A Lady in London

After my harrowing bush plane journey from Windhoek to Sossusvlei, I was relieved to be greeted on the ground by the driver from Little Kulala, our safari lodge in the great Namib-Naukluft desert.

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A week before we left for Namibia I asked my boyfriend to remind me of our itinerary. He rattled off the locations of our safari camps, talked about driving from Etosha back to Windhoek, then casually mentioned the bush plane that would fly us to Sossusvlei—

“Wait. Bush plane?” I asked.

“Yeah. I asked you about it months ago. You were fine with it.”

“Um, no. I’m petrified of heights. There’s no way I would have ever agreed to fly in a bush plane,” I told him. “Ever.”

“Oh, hmmm. I thought we talked about it.”

“Well it’s already booked so there’s nothing I can do about it now, but if I die it’s all your fault,” I said. He wasn’t too worried. I was.

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I spent the last two weeks of December traveling to countries 49 and 50: Namibia and South Africa. Warm weather, safaris, sand dunes, and good wine; what better way to spend the last two weeks of the year?

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