Go Darke

These instructions make me smile. Drive for 12km, then turn left. Drive for five 5km and turn left again. You’ll see a big tree. This is the drop off point.

Having to look down at my odometer feels burdensome (and very turn of the century¹). But maybe its part of the experience I decide. Warm you up with a little lite cartography. I get the sense that what they really wanted to do was give you a compass and a heading… but then thought better of it.

[1] Somewhat embarrassingly I had to scroll through several menus and sub-menus to even get my odometer reading to show up on the display.

In the case a poisonous snake bite we will take your child to the Hermanus Mediclinic, which is the best place to go to get anti-venom, and meet the parent/guardian there. If you do not consent to us taking your child to the Mediclinic in such an event please let us know.

Haphazardly I wonder who would not consent to this. But I’m sure there’s a demographic that might take umbrage with the transport of their rapidly expiring progeny. (I am not one of those people)

The ‘big tree’, as it turns out, has a graveyard under it. (Curiously omitted from the instructions as a point of reference) Maybe I mean cemetery though, the one that means not attached to a church. (hallowed ground where you could parlay with a fellow Highlander, if one were so inclined)

There doesn’t seem to be anyone else around. ‘Okay bye, have fun’, I say to the four, eight years olds I’ve ferried this far.

I’m hilarious.

Turns out you actually have to walk down the road a bit. And then go through this (lets be honest) fairly nondescript looking gate and then its about a hundred meters on your right hand side.

Vague.

My daughter and some of her friends are on a ‘two day’ camp. (Although because they are not yet ten they can only partake in the ‘daytime’ activities) They whittle spears and on my return are all barefoot, muddy and exceptionally cheerful, having played games like Dassie-run-home² and Capture-the-flag.

[2] A (Rock) Dassie is like… a meat-potato. (more or less) The aim of the game as I understand it is not to be eaten by the eagle. (although how that is achieved remains unclear to me)

A ‘Bush knife’ had been included on their required inventory. For spear making and Lord the flies cosplay (I assume). So I bought her a Victorianox.

If it’s good enough for MacGyver (the Richard Dean Anderson original, not the newfangled abortion)…

… and then we set up a retention system so I didn’t immediately take my money and disperse it into the ether. (check out that bowline)

Which reminds me of a Terry Pratchett-ism from… Hogfather if memory serves. (it often doesn’t)

She did in fact cut herself.

Twice.

Once on the day she got her knife. And once whittling her spear.

Blood-loss is almost always an informative experience though. Assuming you survive the ordeal I mean. Apparently I’m that sort of a parent now. She was also riding her bike on the street with her friends the other night. And it was dark!

I’m pretty sure that’s borderline child abuse.

This gets thrust at me on the way back to the car. (Retrieved from the bottom of the backpack)

Its bread, cooked in an orange on an open fire.

It was delicious. Apparently I’m quite easy to please.

Who knew.

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