#Outtogetgrowcerys

We all have those favourite people. The ones we invite over for dinner knowing full well that the evening is probably going to get wonderfully out of hand. We source the best steak, the good wine, perhaps a respectable whiskey (or something decidedly less respectable), and all the ingredients needed for a memorable evening.

We put in the effort because we know what we’re really preparing. Not just dinner. An experience.

The conversations, the laughter, the stories that become increasingly dramatic as the evening progresses. The sort of night that leaves you waking up the following morning, assessing your life choices, and deciding that despite the hangover and your body’s increasingly unreasonable recovery time…

And that, dear adventurers, is exactly how we approach travelling.

Yes, we know how to spell groceries. No, we’re not changing it. Those who know, know. And those who don’t? Well, welcome to the shopping expedition.

For us, going #Outtogetgrowcerys means heading into the great outdoors to gather the ingredients for an extraordinary experience. Sometimes those ingredients come from a wonderfully affordable lodge, where the view is worth considerably more than the room rate. Other times, payday has arrived, your bank account is feeling briefly optimistic, and you decide that fine dining, a spectacular lodge and perhaps a little luxury are exactly what the doctor ordered.

We don’t judge.

Because the best experiences don’t necessarily come with the biggest price tags. Sometimes they come with a blown tyre.

A flat tyre in the middle of nowhere. Hours spent stuck in mud, discussing the questionable intelligence of whoever decided “Ja, we’ll make it.” A tent zipper that chooses the exact moment the wind picks up to resign from its duties.

Or perhaps you’re crawling through dust and wind, camera in hand, desperately trying to photograph a kestrel perched on a lonely pole in the middle of absolutely nowhere. You’ve got the lighting. You’ve got the angle.

You’ve almost got the shot. And then… GRASSHOPPERS.

An entire bloody committee of them. Crawling over your clothes, attempting to enter your ears and apparently auditioning for a supporting role in your wildlife photography. Are they friendly? Hostile? Tiny agents of chaos?

Nobody knows what these devil fairies want. But the kestrel is still sitting there. So you pull up your big-boy boots, reconsider every decision that brought you to this precise moment, and take the damn photograph.

Between us, we’ve got a wonderfully mismatched collection of experience. Some of us have been travelling these roads for longer than we’d care to admit. Some have a decent idea of what they’re doing.

And others are still figuring out which end of the tent goes up first. All are welcome. Because experience isn’t a prerequisite for adventure. Curiosity is.

At the end of the day, we all find ourselves around the same fire. Comparing photographs. Debating the lighting.

Admiring the wildlife encounters. Sharing the stories of what went spectacularly right, what went hilariously wrong, and what we’ll definitely pretend was part of the original plan. And the birds!

Oh, the birds. Give me a beautiful little voëltjie and a camera, and there’s a very good chance you’ll lose me for the next hour. But eventually, the sun goes down, the fire settles, someone pours another drink, and something rather special happens.

The day’s experiences become stories. The stories become memories. And somewhere between the laughter and the crackling fire, a little magic finds its way into the evening.

Here’s the thing about travelling through Namibia. There isn’t one correct way to do it. You might be happiest in a tent, waking up to the sound of absolutely nothing except the wind and a bird with questionable timing.

You might prefer a beautiful lodge, air-conditioning, a proper mattress and someone who brings you breakfast without requiring you to locate a frying pan. Or perhaps you’re somewhere in between. A little dust during the day. A little luxury at night.

Pick your poison. We’ve probably tried it, loved it, got lost on the way there, or developed an unnecessarily emotional attachment to a particular roadside biltong stop. We know the little detours.

The places worth stopping for lunch. The unexpected viewpoints. The quiet corners where you can sit for a while and remember why you wanted to get away in the first place.

And yes, we also know where to find the fancy options, complete with excellent service and the occasional butler. Personally, I’m a sucker for my house on wheels. Half the time I couldn’t tell you where my shoes are.

But if the camera is packed, the batteries are charged, and I’ve recovered sufficiently from looking at the diesel price… We’re going somewhere. I promise I’ll find my shoes eventually.

Probably.

Now, I have a confession. I prefer gravel roads. Tar roads, in my humble opinion, are rather overrated.

Of course, each to their own. Some people enjoy smooth roads, predictable arrival times and keeping their vehicle’s suspension emotionally stable. How terribly sensible. But there’s something about turning off the main road and heading towards a place that doesn’t announce itself with flashing signs and a souvenir shop.

The scenery changes. The pace slows. The adventure begins to unfold.

Sometimes you have to go looking for it. Sometimes it finds you. And sometimes it arrives disguised as a grasshopper attempting to climb into your ear.

Either way, it’s worth getting out there.

Now that we’ve established that we’re not actually heading to the supermarket, let’s talk about where we think you should be gathering your next batch of growcerys. With summer approaching, we’ve put together a few recommendations for those itching to get out, explore and collect some new stories. And because I have a particular fondness for camping and travelling with my house on wheels, we’ll be giving the campers some love.

But don’t panic, lovers of air-conditioning and fluffy towels. We’ve got you covered too.

Life has a funny way of filling our calendars with obligations, responsibilities and all the things we’re apparently supposed to do as functioning adults. But somewhere between the deadlines and the diesel bills, we need to remember to actually live a little. Take the detour.

Photograph the bird. Stop for the biltong. Sit around the fire a little longer.

Spend time with the people who make the stories worth telling. And if the adventure goes slightly sideways? Well, those are usually the stories we remember best.

So get out there. Find your own ingredients. Make something wonderful out of them.

Because the best growcerys aren’t found on a supermarket shelf.

See you out there,
The Travel 2 Namibia Team

Travelling with a sense of self-expression.
#Outtogetgrowcerys