A strange year...

Having left 2014 behind, it seemed appropriate to do that clichéd thing of reflecting on the year gone by.  As has been true for several years now, 2014 brought more than its fair share of bad news, so I make no apologies here for focusing on the positive things.  The word that seems to sum it all up was... unusual.

Within the last twelve months, I've climbed into the caldera of a volcano, cycled round a Greek island, run naked into an iced pool in the middle of a city and my bald spot has appeared on BBC One.  I've eaten a kudu, been chased by a rhino, kissed by an elephant and charged by a warthog.  I've dived with rays, hunted for gnomes, danced with Zulus, queued for Wimbledon and swam in a desert.  I've been to shows as diverse as a hip-hop concert, some fantastic comedy and Pinocchio in Polish and have experienced a Mauri haka done to Scottish ceilidh tunes accompanied by a didgeridoo.  I've learned to lay slabs, catch termites, vote by proxy and finally grasped the subjunctive tense in French.

None of this could be regarded as ordinary, but all of it has been great fun.  Who knows what 2015 will bring, but part of the fun is in the unknowing.

Happy new year!

The morning after the vote before

Friday 19th September

Woodridge Palms, Near Rustenburg

We awoke to the news that Scotland had voted no to independence, by a margin of 10 percentage points.  I must admit to being relieved, though I remain pleased at the way the referendum has engaged so many people in the political process, with turnout at 85%.

The reaction of people here seems to be positive, with South African politicians remarking on the peaceful, democratic way the whole thing was conducted.  Some have seized the opportunity of Scotland's vote to remain in a union to suggest that the people of Lesotho should be offered a referendum on forming a union with South Africa.  Given the failed coup there just two weeks ago, there does seem an element of opportunism (and a sense of inevitability) to this.

We have now left the mountains and travelled west, through Pretoria to a farm holding called Woodridge Palms, about 40km west of Rustenburg.

It's a rather quirky property set in quirkier grounds with an owner who is quirkier still.  Stepping outside, one is surrounded by free-roaming rabbits, peacocks, cats, doges and even an emu and the whole place has an artificial river running through it, crossed by a Victorian-style iron bridge.  Port Merion eat your heart out.

Not expecting to see much wildlife in this area, it was a pleasant surprise to pass springbok, waterbuck, impala and zebra on the road.  The only thing we haven't seen much of is people - once again, we have arrived in the middle of nowhere.

In search of gold

Thursday 18th September

Sudwala Lodge, Mpumalanga

Post Office, Pilgrim's Rest

The irony was not lost that on the day of the referendum we should find ourselves in an old gold mining town founded by Scots trying to make themselves more prosperous.

Pilgrim's Rest was founded by a Scotsman who struck gold in the area in the late 1800s and it has been preserved as a heritage village by the government since 1984.  In fact, the whole area is known as "Mac Mac" after the succession of Scots who arrived here believing they would be better off here than in the UK.  Some were successful, others not.

It saddens me that so much of the debate around the referendum - on both sides - has been about how much money will be in our pockets.  There have been few arguments of substance or even ideology, and staking the future of our nation (either way) on the hope of striking gold seems as bizarre as the hopes of these prospectors of old.

Village Store, Pilgrim's Rest

As I write, polls will have closed and Scotland's fate lies ready to be counted.  There has been a reasonable amount of media interest here, so hopefully we should be able to find out the result tomorrow.

My personal hope is that Scotland will take this opportunity to affirm its place within the United Kingdom, but that the vision for a fairer society and huge political revival generated by the 'yes' campaign can be harnessed and used to work for social justice across the whole of our islands.

While South Africa bears the scars of its British colonial past, its modern form also stands as testament to what can be achieved when diverse people with different values and different political ideals can unite and work together.

Whatever the result of today's poll, it will leave me no less Scottish and no less British... and no more likely to strike gold either.

Rhinos, rhythm and the referendum

Giraffe, Hluhluwe-iMfolozi National Park

Monday 8th September

Hluhluwe, KwaZulu-Natal

I awoke at sunrise to find we were surrounded by a herd of nyala, who soon moved on when our water pupm started up.

The reason for the early start was our first proper game drive around Hluhluwe-iMfolozi National Park.  Originally two separate parks (hence the mouthful of a name), this is now a "big 5" location and we were not disappointed.

Within moments of entering the park, after waiting for a family of warthog to cross in front of us, we quickly spotted significant numbers of white rhino, a magnificent creature to see in the wild.

Less than a century ago, there were fewer than 100 white rhino left in the wild, yet they have now been removed from the critically endangered list almost entirely thanks to the conservation team in Hluhluwe-iMfolozi - there are now around 10,000 in this park alone!

Every bit as impressive were the many giraffes, one of which even gave us a real performance, strutting back and forth as if it had been asked to pose for photos.  At one point, he passed within about 6 feet.  Whenever we saw giraffe, zebra were not far behind and before long a sighting of buffalo gave us our second of the big 5.

Heading south into the iMfolozi section of the park, the rivers and waterfalls were dry, and the trees and veld charred from recent fires set by the rangers to encourage new grass growth.  This meant not many animals to see, and certainly dashed any hopes we may have had about glimpsing an elephant.

All-in-all, though, a successful day's game viewing: warthog, giraffe, zebra, white rhino, impala, nyala, kudu, buffalo, blue wildebeest, red duiker, waterbuck, helmeted guinea fowl.

At one rest camp (Centenary Centre), we found a local craft market where I picked up a carved wooden Zulu drum for under R500 (about £30).  I've no idea how to get it home yet, but that's for another day.

As this is our last night here, we dined at Hluhluwe River Lodge.  Kudu steaks were served up and were absolutely delicious (very lean, cooked medium-rare and a richer flavour than beef) although there is something very strange about eating kudu while watching kudu innocently pass by on the plain.

(While here, we were visited by a different, smaller, but equally gallous genet.)

We leave South Africa tomorrow for an overnight sojourn into Swaziland, a small independent nation - three words resonating with any Scot at the moment as referendum day looms.  Part of me regrets not being physically present to cast my vote (we're voting by proxy instead), but another part of me is glad to be out of the heat and bluster of the debate, instead enjoying the slower pace of life dictated by a crossing family of warthog.