Chris Allan

I handed in my first letter of resignation last Friday.

Since then life has picked up pace dramatically. Suddenly the prospect of packing up our lives, saying goodbye to our 1^st home, fitting everything we might need for the next 4 months into a couple of bags and hurtling off into the great unknown, has become very real. Doubts about doing it all in the middle of a recession need to be bulldozed aside as we prepare to rent out our cozy little home to strangers. 

I long for that happy-go-lucky backpacker state, of not worrying so much. Of trusting fate. Of making a plan on the fly and taking each new day as a potential opportunity to change tack, try something different, stack up the experiences and not depend on the everyday routine comforts, which ultimately left us feeling stifled and horribly “normal”.

With an intro like that you would expect that I would be writing this in between piles of boxes and bubble wrap, but, over the top of my laptop, I am watching the sun rise from a tent verandah, in a bush camp in Natal. An orchestra of birdsong fills the crisp morning air and every now and then I lift up the ancient pair of binoculars, tip up my Cape Union Mart bush hat that Indiana Jones would scoff at, and flick through pages in the paperback Roberts bird book. More often than not I am faced with an army of similar looking species, and I decide to turn my attention to the steaming cup of coffee beside me instead.

This morning I was woken by the sound of Sunbirds wings, as the team of 10-15 of these little guys descended on the flowering tree outside our tent, and made whirring passes at the open flowers and each other, like crazy little fighter pilots.

Last night the bushcampfire conversation drifted from photography, to having babies while James, my musical, theatrical, philosophical and all round pretty unique tent bunk mate, strummed on his guitar and sang softly to whoever was listening. The fire crackled, popped and glowed, the red wine bottle slowly got emptier, and we argued about the origin of the different night calls.

So, apart from a thinly disguised opportunity to brag about my current situation, what is this blog entry actually about?
I think it is about this moment right now. It’s about taking time to appreciate what is going on around you. Too much routine, too much work, too much planning, and you don’t have time to think. To re-align. To make sure the course you have set is the one you want to be on. I got invited on this trip and dropped everything at the last moment. I brushed aside some pretty major plans, said g’bye to my wife and tried to ignore the rising guilt that came with the decision.

But a holiday done right, is all about rejuvenation. It’s about giving yourself time to sleep, time to think, time to ask important questions. I know that the next five months are going to be incredible. I now know we will have the energy needed to maintain momentum long after we have pressed the restart button. I think this time was more valuable than six weekends in the big smoke keeping nose the grindstone, walking well worn paths and doing the same thing I did six weekends before.

In a sentence “holidays are great�. Take one. You won’t regret it!

Now, its time for another cup of coffee and an Ouma.

Check out the new Gallery on the Left called “Back to the Bush”