As we drive past the total nobody, our thoughts inevitably lead to the times in the past when we reminded ourselves that, in the bigger scheme of things, we are all nobodies – you are mistaken if you think you are, or should be, more important than others. We are all equal in the eyes of God. I will show you where to find the total nobody when I get to that point in my story…

We depart at check-out time from Shingwedzi. We drive via Mopani rest camp to the Phalaborwa gate of Kruger in the hope of seeing wild dogs that have been eluding us for years. But no luck. We refuel in Phalaborwa (diesel is a lot cheaper outside Kruger), a town that is many times in the news when run-away lions are seen walking along its roads.

The road all the way to Polokwane is in a good condition. We pass Tzaneen, a beautiful, green town with orchards of subtropical fruit like bananas, avocados and pawpaws. There are many informal stalls next to the road selling fruit, but you can never be sure if it is stolen goods or not.

In the Magoebaskloof Pass we stop for coffee at the Magoebaskloof Farmstall & Cafe. It is very wet in this area – almost like a kind of rain forest. Water dripping from leaves and exotic plants in the gardens. After our regular caffeine fix, we move on. It is quite dangerous to join the road again from the café because it is very close to a hairpin bend and the cars move fast and everything is wet.

We are now on our way to Polokwane, the Limpopo province capital. We pass the Zion City Moria, home of a church of about 4 million members. The roads cater for the big rush during Easter weekend every year, but today it is quiet. And then it is time to meet the total nobody. As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, Anette and I do not live for recognition. We live to experience and to inspire. About 25km before reaching Polokwane on the R71, you get to a crossing where you will see this amazing (to us at least!) road sign: Total Nobody. It is a Total fuel station in the village of Nobody. So it is just another fuel station in the middle of nowhere, yet it catches our eye every time we drive past.

Do not ask your children to strive for extraordinary lives. Such striving may seem admirable, but it is the way of foolishness. Help them instead to find the wonder and the marvel of an ordinary life. Show them the joy of tasting tomatoes, apples and pears. Show them how to cry when pets and people die. Show them the infinite pleasure in the touch of a hand. And make the ordinary come alive for them. The extraordinary will take care of itself. – William Martin

Polokwane is actually quite a big place. There are lots of suburbs spread across the plains surrounding the city. One can bypass the city centre using the freeways. We still have a couple of hours to Pretoria, so we move on. The N1 flows smoothly. I note that the railway line running alongside the N1 must be totally dysfunctional – all its overhead power lines are hanging on the tracks (in the places where they are still present). I cannot fathom why a country would let its public and freight transport infrastructure, which was in excellent working order, go to ruins.

We arrive late the afternoon at our friends, Rodney and Mariette. They live in Waterkloof, Pretoria where many diplomats and other high-ranking government employees live. Rodney is just an engineer as I am, so we do not care much about this. They treat us on a great braai. We have many stories to share.

The next morning is very special for Anette. All her school friends, who live in Pretoria, agreed to join a mini-reunion of their 1981 Beaufort-West matric class. Anette is the organiser for their reunions and this year would have been their 40th anniversary in Beaufort-West. But it all had to be postponed due to the Covid pandemic. We are all meeting at the Padstal in the east of Pretoria. It is clearly a place that caters for big parties. I believe the place belongs to the guy who came up with the Buffelsfontein brand, famous for its hilarious social media ads. If you’re lucky, he may even pay your table a visit. 

People from the Karoo are very close and share a special bond that those from the city, like myself, can only envy. Our party starts at noon and carries on until after five in the afternoon. Lots of jokes, stories and Afrikaans. The food is good. The drinks cannot go wrong. We part with friendships renewed.

The next morning Rodney and I are going to fly with his plane. Well, he knows about flying – I am merely interested. The plane is a Dornier DO27. Beautiful plane with most of its instrumentation and insignia still in German. I think it is the first planes Germany was allowed to manufacture after the Second World War. The plane is parked near Kempton Park. We take off and head towards the Bronkhorstspruit dam. Not long after taking off, Rodney asks me if I would like to fly the plane. Although an exciting prospect, it is initially quite scary. But the plane has dual controls and Rodney can quickly take over control if necessary. I “fly” for a couple of minutes, mostly just trying to keep the plane level and pointed towards our destination. Rodney takes control again as we approach the Bronkhorstspruit dam. As we circle the dam it is clear to me that it is a very upper-class place to live with lots of very fancy houses all around the dam. We then head off for the Kitty Hawk airfield nearby. I find it disconcerting, as a novice, that control of the airspace is entirely based upon the pilots being able to hear each other on their radios and keeping a lookout for each other based upon the altitude and direction the other has provided. There is no airspace controller involved at all!

We land at Kitty Hawk but took off soon after again. Then we head to the Brakpan airfield. Landing there, we have some cold Cokes in the bar and a chat with some of the regulars hanging out there. One is an ex-air force pilot with many interesting stories. Afterwards, I walk up to a mock-up Mirage fighter that is parked on the tarmac. During the Border War quite a number of them were built and parked on airfields (probably not this one, but rather another military airstrip) to confuse enemy reconnaissance as to how many Mirages actually exist. The mock-up even has working lights and a dummy for a pilot!

We refuel and then take off to return to our home base. As we approach the airstrip, Rodney asks me to do a low fly-by. This is a routine you have to do to check if there are any debris on the runway. I make a weak attempt to fly low but being this close to the ground makes me feel extremely uncomfortable. I suddenly realise that if he dies next to me, I am totally scr3w3d! He encourages me to fly even lower but to avoid clipping the trees at the end of the runway. I’m getting really nervous. Then we line up with the runway and start the final approach. Rodney says I must land too. Now he is taking it too far! This is playing with the devil. I love Anette and my children and my life dearly. I refuse to obey, but he insists. I take my hands off the yoke to show him I am serious. He grins savagely and then lands the Dornier. I need another Coke to mix with something stronger.

After parking the plane, we head home to Pretoria to meet with our ladies for dinner at a pizza place. Tomorrow we will be returning to my son’s home for his birthday and some more fun.