Game for anything Angela Douglas attends a gloriou
Game for anything Angela Douglas attends a glorious bush wedding in South Africa This March a close friend called from Cape Town with an offer I couldn't refuse. `I'm getting married out in the bush at sundown — I want you and Bill with me.' I'd been to Africa once before, filming in Morocco, but had never been south. We flew economy on South African Airways, which was surprisingly comfortable. Watching the cold grey rain splashing down outside the window and hearing the screech of the engines preparing for take-off, I sat back, closed my eyes and let my thoughts fly.
Our destination was a game reserve in the mountainous region of Kruger National Park called Bongaini. I didn't know quite what to expect — grass huts, beating drums, creepy crawlies? Grass huts certainly and creepy crawlies that sent me screaming but with the unanticipated luxury of air-con, flushing loos and our own swimming-pool. Bliss. Arriving in a Jeep after a long and dusty journey it was comforting to be greeted by Big Mama, who gave us cool lemonade and by Billy, who was to be our guide. Billy reminded us that if after supper and one too many `sundowners', we were ever to walk back to our sleeping quarters without him, we were in the wild and might be eaten. We didn't need to be told twice.
Spring is the perfect time of year to visit South Africa as there's no rain and no mosquitos. There were 12 of us in our party; a mixed bag but all in high spirits. We had three days and nights of 'hunting' with our cameras and binoculars, driving around trying not to squeal too loudly, 'Look! Look over there!' overcome by the thrill of being so up close and personal with lions, giraffes and hippos coupled with the shock and distress of coming across a fresh kill. I both wanted and didn't want to look at the lions' faces triumphantly streaked with buffalo blood. This wasn't a soft-focus Discovery Channel documentary, this was death in the raw. But then what did I expect?
There was only one hiccup on what turned out to be the most perfect wedding day ever. No hot water. Actually no water whatsoever. Trying not to panic I washed my hair in several bottles of ice-cold Evian. Needs must.
The wedding itself was a complete dream. The bride, very glamorous, very blonde and very in love, arrived perched on top of a flower-decked Jeep. She was greeted by 15 female members of staff dressed in their traditional robes, dancing, singing, throwing flowers. The groom, tall, dark and truly handsome, wore a suit with dark-blue lizardskin cowboy boots. As they exchanged their rings the heavens opened with a dramatic thunderstorm only to clear seconds later and bless us all with a glorious sunset. We danced the night away to the music, a frenzied hypnotic beat underscored with the chanting of Swazi tribal dancers.
After the wedding we slept outside, falling asleep listening to the eerie silence of an African night and looking up at the stars.
One afternoon as I was sunbathing on the stunning Noordhook beach, concentrating on little else except getting tanned, I felt a shadow crossing over me and heard a young black man saying, 'Make you happy for $2 lady?' He wasn't selling beads. Not today, thank you. I was overly polite perhaps; a touch too British in my rejection of his generous offer. But I have to say his was an extreme example of the warmth and bigheartedness of all the locals we met.
On our last day we were driving, hood down, towards my favourite shop, 'Dolce and Banana, to buy some last-minute gifts to take home. With Amy Winehouse blaring out of the radio, you'd have been hardpressed to find two happier people. I let loose with my own Mexican wave. . . arms flung high and wide singing, 'They wanted me to come to Cape Town and I said yeah, yeah, yeah.' Above the racket I could hear the wailing of a police bike getting louder and louder, coming after us. I stopped singing and sat down. A Morgan Freeman lookalike zoomed up and rested his hand on the door handle. 'Madam, do you not know that it's against the law in South Africa to drive with half your body protrudin' from a movin' vehicle?' Mortified, I said I was sorry. He was a good-hearted man and just smiled and sent us on our way. With the road home dancing before us we drove the remainder of the journey at a snail's pace, dreaming of a return visit to this life-enhancing, magical country. I'd love to go back and spend Christmas there. Do all Christmases have to be white?
Previous page
