The editor
I had a van in Africa
She was baby blue with a matching canopy. What made her extraordinary was a Rover V8 engine that took her from nought to VWTF in no time. I bought it from my uncle. ʻItʼs not the car for you,ʼ he warned. Hell, I was a mixed-up hippy with no perception of carbon footprint – it was just the car for me. Despite the exorbitant fuel costs, she took my friends and I from Joburg to the Drakensberg, Magaliesberg and beyond at great speed. Weʼd pour out of the cab having laughed all the way, and she became our baby blue base for mountain hikes and summer swims.
She was also my daily commute. On my junior advertising salary I was living off two-minute noodles just so I could afford the petrol, but no price is too dear for freedom.
I eventually got a job in New York and my parting trip was a lone drive around South Africa. Camping in Addo Elephant National Park, I watched as the parkʼs gentle giants gathered at the waterhole in the main camp where they flung great dollops of dirt over their skin. I thought: ʻShould I really be leaving this for giant skyscrapers?ʼ But I did.
After the attack on two of those skyscrapers and almost three years in that claustrophobic city, I spent three more years in Norway where the largest animals were moose and the wildest carnivores had been killed by farmers. You could count the wolves on just one hand; the lynx were virtually nonexistent. The landscape was stunning, I loved skiing over it but squeaky clean snow didnʼt have the allure of that particular brand of dirt Iʼd left behind. It was time to go home.
Iʼve been exploring South Africa ever since. The more I travel here the less alluring overseas travel becomes because we have such a vast, wild and extraordinary nation right at our feet. Despite spending a good deal of time studying Getawayʼs pages and screen, itʼs incredibly rewarding because I learn so much more. While putting this issue together, I enjoyed finding parts of Addo through Dale Morrisʼ eyes, that I havenʼt visited, and Iʼm thrilled to present two areas that are new to me: the alluring Richtersveld, brought to life by Johann Lanz, and the rugged West Coast by our talented deputy editor, Catherine Hofmeyr, who sadly leaves us after this issue, no doubt freer to roam.
Johann, Catherine and Daleʼs stories are my guides for new adventures and, after reading about ʻvan lifeʼ in our gear section, Iʼve been reminiscing about my old VW and eyeing out classic campers to travel in. My wife has even bought a beaded baby blue replica, so I take it sheʼs on board. Now, if we can just find one without a V8 engine…