BEHIND THE SCENES

For this issue, copy editor Martinette Louw travelled to the Kalahari in search of good, family-friendly accommodation (page 90). But days before she set off, she noticed thunderclouds on the horizon…

Rain always has the last say in the Kalahari. It’s a bit like cricket: Your chances of seeing the last wicket fall decrease when clouds gather. And there’s not much you can do about it. I compiled a long list of places I wanted to visit, but in the week leading up to my trip, the weather forecast showed that the Kalahari had other plans: rain – lots of it. It’s a sin to complain about rain in the Kalahari, especially during the current drought, but I’m new to photography and I could feel my heart sinking as the rainstorm advanced. Photography is hard enough, but taking photos when it’s pouring outside? Impossible. I’d barely left Upington when the first

drops plopped on my windscreen. Later, it rained so hard that I couldn’t see the road ahead. All that rain turned the gravel section between Askham and Van Zylsrus into a slippery slide, thwarting my plans of visiting the Van Zylsrus Hotel. But it was also a privilege to be in the Kalahari when the heavens opened. The three-thorn bushes next to the road were in full bloom and the veld came alive with red velvet mites, millipedes and brown-veined white butterflies. Water rushed down dry riverbeds and the farming community was visibly grateful. Sometimes it rains sixes even when you’re not on the field.