“With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come”
So said the bard back in the 17th century before he passed away at the tender age of 52, never having been to Africa or spoken of the golden joys he had written about in Henry IV.
Those words rang out in my hearing-challenged ears when I turned 70 and began to wonder if I would fulfil a lifelong dream to visit the rainbow continent.
Would I die before I saw an elephant in the wild?
Would I ever visit Nelson Mandela’s cell at Robben Island?
Would I see a whale leap out of the ocean at Hermanus?
Would I, could I? … walk like a penguin at Boulders Beach on the way to the Cape of Good Hope?

The answers are a resounding yes. Thanks to a serendipitous announcement, last January, that South African Airways was resuming direct flights between Perth and Johannesburg with a special of $1450 return per person.
My husband and I, and two like-minded friends who share our disdain for big ship cruising, bus tours, Hush Puppies, high-waisted shorts, sensible hats and money belts, seized the opportunity.
Together we walked the Camino trail, drank shots in Melbourne laneways, drove the Gibb River Road and danced to Paul McCartney in Sydney.
But nothing compared to this trip of a lifetime which was planned by Take Off Go, the travel agency specialising in bespoke itineraries for Africa. Ours included Johannesburg, Victoria Falls, safaris in Chobe National Park in Botswana and South Africa’s Sabi Sands Nature Reserve, Capetown, Hermanus and the wineries and food of scenic Stellenbosch and Franschoek.

But the reaction from friends, as we shared our plans, was somewhat alarming.
“Be careful in Jo’Burg,” said some. “Don’t wear jewellery or show your mobile phone. Don’t venture out on your own at night, use a taxi.”
Others warned we would get stomped on by elephants, eaten by hyenas or chased by lions.
With these thoughts in mind, we emerged – stiff, tired and hunched over – from our 11-hour economy class journey to be met by a smiling, young man holding a sign with our names.
That’s how things flowed over 24 days as we were seduced by surprises each step of the way, beginning with the deeply moving experience of seeing our first elephants in the wild.
We watched in awe as the majestic, gentle giants marched softly past in a silent parade – a contrast to the extremely rare wild dogs trotting along beside the jeep in a joyful, energetic pack reminding us of the West Coast Eagles running out onto the ground.
More contrasts came in the silent contemplation at the confronting and quietly moving Apartheid Museum in Jo’burg.
We cried silently on driving past hundreds of shanty towns where people live in cardboard boxes and tin shacks – a huge juxtaposition to the grandeur of the fiercely-pounding Victoria Falls, the cable ride up to the top of the imposing Table Mountains or the excitement at whales leaping just off the coast at Hermanus.
There was an overwhelming sense of respect, too and more emotion, while standing on the most south-westerly tip of the continent and remembering Vasco De Gama, the Portuguese explorer who was the first European to reach India by sea, via the Cape of Good Hope.

There was also, paradoxically, an upbeat positivity as we laughed and joked with the Black South Africans, the San and Khoekhoe peoples – the original inhabitants who have endured wars and takeovers since the first European settlement in 1652.
Despite it all, they remained welcoming and charming, exuding an astonishing generosity as they guided us around their extraordinary rainbow country.
There was wine tasting too – lovely drops of Pinotage and Chenin Blanc – and beautiful food at wineries like Tokara, Hartenberg and Delaire Graff – the icing on the African cake.
We soaked it all in like the intrepid travellers we were back in the 70s doing Europe on $25 a day.
Did we feel old at any stage?
Only when one of the guides on our jeep safari asked if we would like to go on a walking safari in a rhino-dotted reserve before announcing the age limit of 65, explaining that participants had to be fit enough to run, if chased, and be able to climb a tree.

After a mini uprising from the senior citizens he agreed we could venture out on the walk which was, literally, a doddle.

So, if any other seniors are contemplating an African safari, just do it. You don’t need to board a bus with 50 others. You can do it in a small group. And you, too, will speak of Africa and its golden joys.
And I promise you will experience enough mirth and laughter to let the wrinkles come gracefully.