I wasn’t expecting to have an trouble with my passport going through customs, but it seems it got a bit moisture-damaged on my last travels, when I was constantly wearing it in a money belt under my clothes, and I’m told I should replace it because the photo is discoloured on one side (although no details are lost and despite it being a terrible photo you can still identify me from it).

I’m starting to believe I’m in Africa.  Getting on the plane in Brisbane, then on another in Perth didn’t really do it. Even arriving in Johannesburg: just a big, bustling airport. I did manage to hire a router from Vodacom to connect with Internet throughout my travels here, and my iPhone finally started working when my husband Denis called Telstra from Australia and asked them to change one of their settings for roaming.

Flying over the Drakenburgs as we approached Neilspruit: now, I suddenly thought hey, yes, this is Africa. The bush veldt vegetation as we came down for a landing, and the very African-style airport all looked great. And although it seems a bit silly, somehow seeing my name on the boarding pass just before boarding the plane had suddenly excited me: yes, that’s me, the same as the little girl who dreamed constantly about exploring Africa more than half a century ago. That’s me, and I’m in Africa.

I was a bit nervous about picking up my little Chevron hire car, after all I’d heard about dangers of women driving alone in Africa, but soon started enjoying the drive to Hazyview, through what could at times have been the Adelaide Hills with its pine plantations, eucalypt plantations, orchards  and hilliness, but then there’d be some dramatically different plants or an African market and yes, I’m really in Africa. I found myself going the wrong way on a street in White River, but met nothing but friendliness when I asked for directions and got on the right track back towards Hazyview.

I’m staying at Gecko Lodge, a cosy, attractive place that has guest rooms, backpacker accommodation and camping surrounded by bush and very comfortable.

Tomorrow, off to see for myself one of the elephant sanctuaries.  There has been a lot of talk about all elephant riding being cruel, but I suspect some establishments are much better than others, and Elephant Whispers sounds very good. They seem to do a lot of educating about elephants, and activities other than rides, and their elephants were not deliberately forced away from their mothers in the wild, but from what I understand were brought in due to injuries or taken from other situations such as circuses.  Anyway, I’ll see it tomorrow.