One rainy day in Sydney, I started thinking about my time in Southern Africa. It was the most stunning driving I had ever experienced in my life, through a continent exquisitely beautiful, dangerous at times, misunderstood by many, and utterly alluring.
I opened my computer in my bedroom and began typing in a crazed frenzy of clicking and clacking iMac keys – absolutely everything that I could remember about the adventure. After a couple of days, it was all there; a huge story about my travels in southern Africa.
It was all there, from my thoughts about the moonscape deserts, the night we heard lions outside our tent, the motorbikes on Zanzibar that didn’t have brakes, the machine gun-wielding soldier who inspected our car in Mozambique; even the dodgy hamburger we ate in Maputo. It inspired me to start this blog when I departed on my round the world trip.
We were driving from dawn til dusk almost every day, a colossal distance of about 12,000km (with all our many detours included). Point to point, that’s about the same as driving from Cape Town to Paris.
The route took us through never-ending highways shimmering with midday heat, insect-filled wetlands, tropical paradise beaches stolen from postcards, stomach-lurching mountain passes, and thick jungle that slapped the windscreen as we drove through it.