On the road again: My great reopening!

The promises we made to ourselves during Covid are now due – not least those heartfelt undertakings to “get out there and experience life”.

Strange how easily they can be forgotten. It’s like, yes I know we can travel and explore the world again, but I’m depressed now! From all the staying at home. I just want to watch all nine series of Gilmore Girls and drink 11 coffees and stress about some personal admin I’ve been meaning to do since September last year!

Leave me alone! My mental health!

And sure, it is the personal prerogative of each of us to experience the great reopening in the way that works best for us.

For me, now that I’ve got over my newfound fear of crowds and the great outdoors, that has meant playing rock ‘n’ roll shows with our band The Feel So Strongs, and actually leaving Johannesburg.

These are not giant steps, but they are significant when your biggest outing for the past two years has been a drive across town to exotic Northcliff.

Now, I have set myself goals. With my curious little daughter in tow, I will leave town every weekend. Not necessarily by much, but I will exit the Johannesburg metropolitan area. That has been my promise to my post-Covid self!

So far, I can confirm that a small piece of the outside world is indeed still out there.

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There is a pleasant piece of outside world at Nirox sculpture park, northwest of the city in the Cradle of Humankind. Rolling lawns recline alongside lapping lakes, where esoteric works of creative art surprise the strolling visitor. Bees bustle beyond the thickets and fens, thickened by relentless rain. Here and there we find ourselves ankle deep, but we splash forth and discover further.   

At Stonehaven on Vaal, we probe the southern limits of our province. A river cruise has us marvelling at the sheer volume of recent precipitation on this defining waterway of our region. So this is where it all went!

The potholes of Vanderbijl and a rare responsibility attack have me eschewing the hell out of the bar. But one day that place will make for a cracker getaway, with hotel rooms and all. Not even an hour out of the city. And a mere hundred bucks for that boat ride.

On the outermost skirts of what could plausibly be deemed Johannesburg, my bandmates and I find ourselves at Tweefontein Melkery, a converted barn in the Far East that now hosts music events. Just off the R21, there as it loops around between Kempton and Pretoria.

As a biblical storm vents its spleen upon the earth, we play our hearts out at a tribute concert before an audience of our peers and some interested observers. Love was in the air. Afrikaans is the lingua franca, and so our punk version of Loslappie wins them over. Dit was darem lekker.

The drive home less so, through another obligatory cloudburst, a rash of potholes and only cameo appearance by the streetlights. We finally roll off the N3 with new appreciation for being alive.

And that is the point, after all. We are alive – through tenacity, through prudence, through luck. And we appreciate it. So this year, every weekend, when the week’s work is done, we’re going to do something. Anything. But something. To show our appreciation!

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