There was a time, not too long ago, that I seriously considered chucking it all in and heading off into the bush for good. By ‘it’ I mean all things citified and civilised: all the skyscrapers and fashionistas, the sales and salespeople, the bustle and the hustlers. Leaving it all behind me and trading it for the soft swishing song of the bush, for the animals and the game trails, for the trees and the birds, for the sign and the lore of the bush.
I had a grand plan, I’d sign up for a six month game ranger course with &Beyond (then Cons Corp the pre-eminent luxury safari service provider in Africa) and spend at least two years guiding and ranging in my beloved African bush. The only thing that stopped me was that even though I’d be deeply ensconced in my aforementioned beloved bush, I’d also be surrounded by my antithisisisedly-hated people. And not just any old hated people: tourists, and not just any old tourists: foreign tourists: Americans and Germans and Italians and Frenchies and the Dutch and the English and the Japanese and the … eeeeewwwwwwww … Israelis. And not only would I be surrounded by them, I’d have to be nice to them, all of them, all the time, everyday, for ever.
Yeaaaaggggghhhhhh!!!!
So I chose to stay in the world of cities and towns and malls and up-to-50% off sales. But every now and then I come back out here, into the bush and listen to the grass stalks rubbing up against each other and watch the Impala peering through the trees trying desperately to spot the lion that they’re sure is creeping up one them, and all of a sudden just like that my shoulders relax, and my deeply etched frown lines smooth out, and just like that I’m part of everything again, and that’s just cool.
So, wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, stop, just for a second and relax your shoulders and uncrease your deeply etched frown lines and listen for the grass. It’s out there and it’s rubbing against itself, and it’s making a little noise, and if you listen for it, you may be able to hear it.
Bottom Line Verdict: There’s nothing like the bush. Nothing at all!
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