The Wild is Waiting
It’s a rather obvious point to make, but the last 2 years have been a bit shitty. As we sat hunkered down at home for months on end watching the news, it was as if the sense of physical and mental oppression caused by Covid was being exacerbated by the relentless fire-hose of human-caused catastrophe that seemed to be metastasizing around the world.
I am here to tell you, though, that as the pandemic’s strangle hold on our psyche’s begins to loosen, and the metaphorical dawn breaks, and as we emerge from our bunkers, blinking and bleary-eyed into the morning light… there is cause for hope. You see, the wilderness doesn’t watch CNN and it has been busy getting on with it.
As my work day has shifted from triaging trips that couldn’t travel, and counselling worried travellers, to actually planning trips again, from the dark recesses of my memory came not the grand landscapes or wildlife encounters that I love, but the more minor elements of travel. The things that fill the gaps, the preamble if you will, to the main events: touching down in Botswana at the end of September and feeling the blast of hot Kalahari air as the plane unseals; or the biting arctic wind howling across the Tundra on Somerset Island; or a steaming cup of coffee next to a crackling fire on a chilly morning in northern Kenya.
Sure, there are new realities to travel like wearing masks on long haul flights (it’s not that bad), testing requirements (which we can help you navigate) and uninspiring conversations about insurance that need to be had. Getting out there involves risk, and how you perceive reality will dictate how safe you feel getting out there again.
Once you do though, you’ll realize that the wild is out there – and it is full of wonders.