Adventure trip went wrong
BY DIMPHO LEGORENG
Pulled off by my thoughts,I suddenly regain the momentum of the trip to Polokwane once more. We are to use the Martin’s drift boarder post. I am on a trip to some unfamiliar place near the city of Polokwane for the Dutch Reformed Church interdiocese competitions. The annual competition have a way in unravelling something in me that only me can resonate with.
The hired Mahube bus is driven by a regular face that gets to transport us every year when we make these cometitions. This time he drives slow and that only gives me a rage that ignites my impatient being. I am much more raged because of all the hard work I have to put in between writing news stories for the news body that has employed me and also my newly owned online platform together with the endless rehearsal in preparatory for competitions.
The adventure is brought to play when we reach the Martin’s drift boarder post which is separated by the long bridge that goes above the Limpopo & Madikwe rivers. I’m immediately taken aback by the creations around me both man-made and naturally formed. The bridge is a one car pass only friend and it gets my soul to crawl out of my skin because of its height. I am a cronic fainter which has resulted from my anxiety disorder and I’m starting to feel like I will faint just by having a look at the water deep within. Upon finishing up at the boarder our destination is not so far off.
Tibani lodge which is our place of stay for the two competition days is in the outskirts of the town. Its mountains and greens are what all travel writers I have read their books have always described the country lodges to be like. I’m instantly hit and feel awash with love for this place. It takes me off the computer keyboard umconsented anxieties that I have to deal with every now and then.
The choir is granted the randavel houses from 5 to 15. Two hours later we are all expected to report for rehearsal and I have a feeling my feel will lose me because they have suddenly went numb. In my head I have lost the interest to make music deliverables but I want to go all out into the mountains,into the greens and have the birds play at me. The rehearsal last longer into the night leaving no room to check the greens like I had planned. My biggest fear of stepping up on a snake is brought to play when we walk bavk to our rooms and somebody shouts there is the evil creature.
It turns out it was only sarcasm. On the day of the competition my feet gets so boiled up because having been a professional tennis player all my life,I’m unable to wear formal shoe for long. There is final rehearsals as is the norm but I’m sure away from the competition because my thoughts are plastered around the great natural facets the greens and the mountains at Tibani have for us. I am disappointed because the competition runs until late in the night. My adventure ideas got ruined.
