5 Nov 2011
I open my eyes, register.. and then open them fully.
Across the river a line of fever trees have stepped out of the night. In the soft dawn their pale limbs glow like a reflection of my morning mood. It’s Day One; and it’s beautiful.
Outside the shade cloth windows of my tent lies the wild bush of the Mozambique frontier, the place I have chosen as my new home.
It took me eight hours to get to this idyllic spot on the Shingwedzi river from the last town, Phalaborwa, where I’d stocked up on supplies. Two hours’ slow driving through the breadth of South Africa’s Kruger National Park, then an hour to deal with formalities at the lonely Giriyondo border post, and then five hours along the winding, dipping dirt tracks of the Limpopo Parque Nacional in Mozambique
I arrived late in the evening, grateful for the GPS which had proved itself on its very first trip. It had been a tiring journey, the last leg of a few hectic days, and I had simply crashed to bed.
So here I am, finally. It’s Day One.
Did I really?