It was such a relief to walk through the pearly gates at OT Tambo Airport in Johannesburg. I finally made it. Pieter Adendorff had already spotted me as I quickly scanned the waiting public for new arrivals. I heard a familiar voice calling out my name, a voice I hadn’t heard for six years. Last time we spoke was in Walfis Bay on the west coast of Namibia.

Has it really been this long? It seemed like yesterday as I gave Pieter a Big Bearhug in waiting. It felt so good to be reunited, he smiled even more than myself. Pieter arrived with neighbor and good friend Hannes at 2 pm, two hours before the plane’s scheduled touchdown. Just in case.

It seemed like a never-ending expedition from Coffs Harbour, New South Wales, Australia to the Adendorff Castle near Limpopo, Kwa-Zulu Natal, South Africa. Roundabout 28 hours travel time, stopover in Sydney not included. It was a smooth transition from train, plane, and bakkie (car). The train journey from Coffs Harbour was pleasant with calm sunny weather all the way to Sydney. It wasn’t a speed train as we stopped on all stations on our way down south, but I wasn’t in a rush either. I am not Russian after all.

A fully loaded Quantas boing left in time the next morning from Sydney, to fly across the southern ocean into Johannesburg. 15 hours non-stop. I had a friendly neighbor, who was visiting her sickly dad in South Africa. Thanks to onboard entertainment, time flew relatively fast.

It was a tight fit in Pieter’s pick-up ute as we made our way south the N11 out of Johannesburg. ‘It’s chaos here in South Africa’ Pieter said. ‘You wouldn’t believe it’. Oh, I can see it right in front of me. The highway was jam packed with vehicles swerving left to right without indicators, trying to squeeze in any little gap that appeared. A semi trailer used the highway drive-off ramp to drive on to the highway. Driving straight towards us, he was looking for a spot to turn around. ‘Ja, he will turn around somewhere and block the highway for some time in the best case scenario’ Hannes calmly said. This is Africa after all.

The full moon shone over hazy fields of the ‘Free State’ as the two of them carried on with their government fudge-up highlight list. It really makes you wonder. For those who wonder if I will be sending a postcard from South Africa;? The Post Office is bankrupt and non existent anymore.

We arrived home around 09:30 pm and I was happy to reach my final destination. Zimba stood next to the house smiling and shining lightly in moonlight. Mariette and Ruhan waited eagerly for my arrival, it felt just right being here on the farm again. Ozzi and Jakkel wagged their furry tails just as well.

They remembered me from 6 years ago it seemed. There’s nothing like a good belly rub.

It was a chilly but calm morning as I watched the sun rising onto the veranda.

‘Chateaux Furstenau’ was build two years ago by Pieter and family, from start to finish.

What an extraordinary achievement. A perfect spot for a nice cuppa coffee. Bliss.

We took Zimba for a drive around the paddock. The cattle wasn’t sure what to think of Zimba. Jessica came around to investigate.

Neighbour Riaan remembered us though as we entertained with a coffee in hand.

Pieter took me into Newcastle the following day and reintroduced me to his work colleagues Louie and Donny. Both were excited to see me again and asked for my plans on this upcoming adventure. ‘I have a few ideas’ I replied, ‘but only time will tell’.

Nico was next on the visiting list. He is a busy entrepreneur with a heart of gold.

Nico took us out fishing in Namibia last time around, it was the perfect ending for a perfect adventure.

Last but not least, I visited ‘Maarmannshoek’ a week after my arrival.

This is the place where and how my adventures with Zimba had begun.

Dina and Dirk, as well as son Connie and wife Amoré, and youngest son Thabo and partner Alida welcomed me with open arms.

I stayed for the weekend and we had such a pleasant time, baking, laughing and chatting. What else I could I ask for?

I feel humble and overwhelmed by such enthusiasm and effort shown by all my friends, there is no other way to say it.

Not only here in Africa, but with all my friends around this beautiful planet. We may not be in touch often, but when we meet, it’s just like yesterday. Count yourself lucky, if you can count true friends on one hand. I am the luckiest man alive.

It truly shows that friendship, based on honesty and respect is worth more than anything else,

all confirmed and sealed with joy and a big bearhug.

No matter how much money you have,

how important you think you are, how many followers you may have on the matrix,

it means nothing to common people with common sense.