Ben Welsher | Writings

Day 4 - Johannesburg How scared should I be? It's a question I've asked myself many times in many places across the world. Some offered up the answer without pause. Belize City had policemen too terrified to go down its dark alleys. Tegucigalpa simmered with a viscous air of menace. San Pedro Sula was the official murder capital of the world. Looking from the window of the taxi every building we passed had a sign affixed promising a swift, overwhelming, armed response to any attempted break in. Residents seem to contract a security company with the same normalcy as they would a gas or electricity supplier. Houses were surrounded by thick walls topped with electric fencing. How scared were they? Did they erect these barriers and carry on a normal life behind them or did the crackle of the electrified wire never let the perceived danger be forgotten? My eyes flicked nervously to the wing mirror at every stop of the taxi, the stories of people pulled from their cars and shot for...

Day 3 - Kruger National Park I rose early to find the enthusiasm for birds that Mike had inspired in me the previous day slightly diminished. Some feathered bastard had sat himself out the back of our tent and called for hours straight during the night. Hopefully he'll have been eaten by an eagle by the evening. I should perhaps have been a mite less enraged though as over a cursory breakfast Mike and Bridget reported hearing hyenas outside their tent. All this is perfectly normal and fine. As we mounted the jeep a change in the wind direction reminded us again of the first stop on our safari. The elephant was even less fresh than the day before but still the vultures and hyenas raced the bacteria to gorge themselves. A pair of white rhinos mooching in the dawn gloom presented a more arresting sight and was another of the big five ticked off. I feel like I should be allowed to count half an elephant on the list but, alas, not even a whole elephant counts (despite their excellent ...

Day 2 - Kruger National Park I've been to some unexpected places born of random ideas thrown into wine-inspired conversations. Istanbul and the Balkans, Rouen in search of Rollo, Amsterdam not Nottingham. I can't help but feel that the unpredicted trip begets the unforgettable experience. The joy of it will always stay with me I think even as the opportunity becomes rarer. And if this is a final hurrah then it is a good one. Our wider family crosses oceans and now stretches to the the Southern tip of Africa. Fifteen bleary hours had left time without meaning. Was this beer for breakfast or was it for dinner? I often enjoy monotonous transit for the blank page it offers my mind. For the space it creates between me and the often oppressive admin in my life. It feels my thoughts have been quieted of late, that the violent struggle to glean life's purpose has reduced to embers. A greater contentedness perhaps, if so I shouldn't mourn but if something of me has been laid t...

Ever you & I, we have moved in ellipses. Often small, a mile or a day. But sometimes great sweeping arcs carrying us across the globe, to the greatest unknowns we couldn't have dreamed of. A bond not given but chanced upon like an acquaintance in the street. Who could have known such affection was within? But we built and we grew and what times were ahead. Provoked by the other to new experiences, to the 'where?' and the 'when?' and the...'alright, let's go!'. Our tapestry of recollections are different yet inextricably shared as once again our paths intersected. Far flung we were but like comets returned to a singular point. From sunrises in Brum to sunsets in Sydney. From one pound nine and 'any change?' to schooners under soaring white sails. From the sound of wailing sirens to the crash of smashing steins. And to all of those we met on the way, Andrew & Louie, Gunter & Brad, that sheep that had seen better days. We saw the world...