Saturday, May 24, 2008
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The Adventurers
The three adventurer couples were Frank Hagel and Marcia Walker, Jo and Pat Hillyer and Ken and Jeannie Colling; All brought together by the allure of darkest Africa and charitable auctions.
How it Began
The common denominator for this trip was Frank. He knew all three couples, and he knew that they had each purchased a safari to the Zulu Nyala Private Game Reserve in South Africa through various charity auctions.
It was Frank who suggested we travel together, and since Frank had convinced me (Jeannie) to bid on the safari while Ken was gone from the table, we decided it was okay that he should also be the one to find people for us to travel with.
It was also Frank’s suggestion that we put ourselves into the capable hands of the Renee Mills Tours travel agency to make our plans. Her home, where we went for the planning, is filled with African artifacts and taxidermied African animals, including a full sized lion. It was a bit overwhelming, but her knowledge of the continent was extensive, and she created an exciting, fun packed, educational, not to mention, expensive tour for us. Ken and I rationalized the expense by saying the trip was our 40th wedding anniversary present to ourselves.
It started on Wednesday, April 23rd for the Hagels’, who were flying business class on a separate airline from we more common folk. We and the Hillyers met up all sleepy eyed at the Seattle airport on Thursday, April 24th for a 7:25 AM flight. Well Jo, Pat and I were sleepy. Ken was busy walking around the airport, getting his 10,000 steps in.
Our first leg was the five hour journey from SeaTac to Washington DC on United, in the cramped, uncomfortable coach seats. Pat introduced us to the term “TB”, tired butt. We switched from United Airlines to South African Airlines at Dulles for the next two legs of the trip. It was a bigger plane with more comfortable seats, but TB had already become a fact of life. We left at 5:40 P.M. and arrived in Johannesburg at 3:05 PM the next day, unslept, disheveled, weary and a little nervous.
The airport is large and rather intimidating. We had to get our luggage, stand in line for passport stamps, change our money into Rand, find the ticket counter and get checked in for our flight into Capetown. People were most anxious to help, but one wasn’t quite sure if we were being helped by the ones with our best interests in mind. Since we didn’t have the energy to question or argue when we were latched onto, we meekly followed our “volunteers” for what seemed like several miles through the airport to domestic departures and hoped for the best, and sure enough, it all worked out—except we probably overtipped, and we didn’t get a chance to exchange our money.
Jo, we discovered, is an enthusiastic tipper, and turned into our go-to person when tipping was necessary, which was often. We would ask her, “How much?” and then consistently be shocked at her answer. We departed Johannesburg at 5:00 PM and arrived in Capetown at 7:10 PM.—29 long hours after we had left our house in Seattle.
At Capetown, we had a chance to exchange our money, and, much to my pleasure, were greeted by a driver carrying a sign with our names on it. I felt quite important. I have always wanted to be greeted by one of those sign guys.
He took us to our bed and breakfast, the Bluegum Hill Guest House, passing an auto showroom along the way with a TR3 in the window, much to Pat’s delight. The Guest House is located on Signal Hill with lovely rooms and sweeping views of the city. It is owned and run by two sisters who had grown up in the home and then converted it to a bed and breakfast after their parents passed away.
It was Frank who suggested we travel together, and since Frank had convinced me (Jeannie) to bid on the safari while Ken was gone from the table, we decided it was okay that he should also be the one to find people for us to travel with.
It was also Frank’s suggestion that we put ourselves into the capable hands of the Renee Mills Tours travel agency to make our plans. Her home, where we went for the planning, is filled with African artifacts and taxidermied African animals, including a full sized lion. It was a bit overwhelming, but her knowledge of the continent was extensive, and she created an exciting, fun packed, educational, not to mention, expensive tour for us. Ken and I rationalized the expense by saying the trip was our 40th wedding anniversary present to ourselves.
It started on Wednesday, April 23rd for the Hagels’, who were flying business class on a separate airline from we more common folk. We and the Hillyers met up all sleepy eyed at the Seattle airport on Thursday, April 24th for a 7:25 AM flight. Well Jo, Pat and I were sleepy. Ken was busy walking around the airport, getting his 10,000 steps in.
Our first leg was the five hour journey from SeaTac to Washington DC on United, in the cramped, uncomfortable coach seats. Pat introduced us to the term “TB”, tired butt. We switched from United Airlines to South African Airlines at Dulles for the next two legs of the trip. It was a bigger plane with more comfortable seats, but TB had already become a fact of life. We left at 5:40 P.M. and arrived in Johannesburg at 3:05 PM the next day, unslept, disheveled, weary and a little nervous.
The airport is large and rather intimidating. We had to get our luggage, stand in line for passport stamps, change our money into Rand, find the ticket counter and get checked in for our flight into Capetown. People were most anxious to help, but one wasn’t quite sure if we were being helped by the ones with our best interests in mind. Since we didn’t have the energy to question or argue when we were latched onto, we meekly followed our “volunteers” for what seemed like several miles through the airport to domestic departures and hoped for the best, and sure enough, it all worked out—except we probably overtipped, and we didn’t get a chance to exchange our money.
Jo, we discovered, is an enthusiastic tipper, and turned into our go-to person when tipping was necessary, which was often. We would ask her, “How much?” and then consistently be shocked at her answer. We departed Johannesburg at 5:00 PM and arrived in Capetown at 7:10 PM.—29 long hours after we had left our house in Seattle.
At Capetown, we had a chance to exchange our money, and, much to my pleasure, were greeted by a driver carrying a sign with our names on it. I felt quite important. I have always wanted to be greeted by one of those sign guys.
He took us to our bed and breakfast, the Bluegum Hill Guest House, passing an auto showroom along the way with a TR3 in the window, much to Pat’s delight. The Guest House is located on Signal Hill with lovely rooms and sweeping views of the city. It is owned and run by two sisters who had grown up in the home and then converted it to a bed and breakfast after their parents passed away.
Blue Bum Hill Guest House
Deck View from Blue Gum Hill Guesthouse
We were just enjoying the incredible view when Frank and Marcia arrived all perky from their 6 1/2 hour sleep in first class. We sneered at them and went to bed, still not quite believing we were in Africa.On Saturday, April 26 we awoke to a cloudy, coolish day which later turned to blue, blue skies with temperatures in the 70’s. We had a delicious breakfast at the Inn.
Promptly at 9AM, Alfred Wagenstroom, our Capetown guide, appeared to take us on a tour of Capetown and the South African wine country around Stellenbosch. We also had a driver named Raymond, whose responsibility was to drive and to keep track of Ken. He was better at the former than he was at the latter. Pat, started the tour, by climbing into the van and leaving a divot of his scalp on the roof, so we drove slowly by the auto dealership again, to cheer him up. After that we let him sit up front with Raymond. Capetown is a lovely city with a European feel to it. Alfred was an accomplished guide. He loves Capetown and is proud of its beauty and its progress.
Alfred & Raymond
Alfred
April 27 is Freedom Day in South Africa—not much noticed by the whites, it seemed, but deeply felt by the blacks, as it marked the first elections after apartheid in1994. Alfred had us mesmerized with his story of going from being a stone thrower (a very good stone thrower) in the township to standing in line for nine hours for the opportunity to vote, to forgiving a white person after realizing hatred would keep him from moving forward in his life, to owning his own successful business today.
Ironically much of his work comes from Renee Mills, whom he has never met in person. He is also in the process of getting himself elected to public office. The wine country is about an hour from Capetown in stunningly beautiful countryside.
Ironically much of his work comes from Renee Mills, whom he has never met in person. He is also in the process of getting himself elected to public office. The wine country is about an hour from Capetown in stunningly beautiful countryside.