We used to wonder why we never get casual visitors calling in at night. We used to live in the city. Our door was always open. Pals of our kids kind of lived at our place. Friends in general were always calling in and our biggest problem was knowing what to do with the empty wine bottles that wouldn’t get the neighbours eyebrows to rise. The doors at the farm are always open too, but we’ve come to understand that we live just too far away.

Yesterday was the day one of the US bloggers expedition into the African hinterland.

This was some initiation. Little more than 24 hours earlier, some had still been in New York. Jet lagged on arrival in Cape Town at the southern extremity of the African continent, they had been ushered to a welcoming party where they had to meet the local support team and eat African food for the first time. Even the most intrepid explorer would just be looking for a bed and recovery time. But these guys and gals discovered that the hazards of time zones bring more than travel fatigue, there’s just no time for sleep.

When the Cape Town crew were tucking themselves into bed on Sunday night, our world explorers were finding the coffee and getting down to work. Bloggers have to publish.  Just when US readers are finding a comfy position in front of the screen and settling down to read the important opinions of the day, everyone in Cape Town is deep in slumberland. Except for the hard-at-work ‘US bloggers in Africa’, pulsing out wisdom.

Then came the rigours of day one. For 40 000 years the San people had the whole of the Southern Cape area of Africa to themselves. Today, they  are limited to a 2000 acre estate where they celebrate their ancient way of life and this was Base Camp One for the travellers. Fortunately they didn’t have to do much more than sit, watch and eat. But then came the lumbering bus and a meandering bumpy ride into the African mountains to find Stormhoek in its hidden valley.

That’s where the footslogging came in. Stormhoek’s mountain roads couldn’t accommodate the giant blogger bus. So everyone had to demount and slog up the pass to the shade and cool drinks of the Stormhoek home. Before anyone had a chance to get a breath or dream up a descriptive phrase, the whole crew were led off into the vineyards and asked to try to tell the difference between the Merlot, the Cabernet Sauvignon and the Pinotage vines, when they appear to be identical green bushes with impossibly small green grapes.  To add to the confusion, the sun circles the sky to the north and the vines are convinced that the season is early-summer, even though it is December.

Then came the obligatory wine tasting. Many people like to compare a wine with the one that came before while they are standing up. Our American bloggers found that this work came more easily while they were laid back in the familiar comfort of a chair. This was like being home and taking it easy. But the hard work wasn’t finished. There was another another long walk back to the bus. Then there was a night-time bus trip enlivened by the nursery-rhyme magic of the conjunction of Jupiter and Mars with the moon in the pitch black sky, followed by dinner.

Finally, at around 11, day one ended with bed for the Cape Town people and midnight blogging for the American explorers.  

Day Two’s hazardous schedule involves satellite rocketry and another lumpy, bumpy ride, this time in a tiny, propeller-driven plane. The destination is deep-sea diving in the icy waters on the coast in the heart of the Namibian desert.   

Hey, couldn’t you guys have spent the day here in the peace and quiet of the Stormhoek valley?