The Farewell: Back to Reality
Sunday morning came too quickly, bringing with it the bittersweet task of packing up. As we drove out of the reserve, The Man declared the trip a success, though he lamented not having caught “that one big fish.” The Man Cub, meanwhile, recounted his mamba escape with the exaggerated flair of a boy who had just conquered the unconquerable.
Sister and Niece, ever the pragmatists, were already planning our next trip. “Somewhere with spa treatments,” they suggested. I nodded in agreement, though secretly I knew we’d be back at Nagle Dam before long. After all, where else can you laze with book in hand staring at fish eagles and Kingfishers, and witness The Man battle both fish and fire – all within an hour’s drive of the city?
As we hit the main road, leaving the bushveld behind, I glanced back at the reserve, its waters glinting in the morning sun. It had been a weekend of laughter, adventure, and the occasional mishap – everything a family getaway should be. And as The Man Cub proclaimed loudly from the backseat, “I’m faster than a crocodile!” I smiled, already looking forward to our return to this little slice of Africa.
