We turned directly into the wind for the last five kilometers of our day. Not the most ideal way to end off your day in the saddle. We politely pushed our bicycles through the lush shaded beer garden to the reception of Fringilla Lodge.
Andrew Woodley and his wife Julie were our hosts. We were shown to the pool house, fully equipped with DStv and guarded by the most intimidating but playfull bulbuls I have ever seen. We cleaned up and were entertained by the box while waiting for Andrew to finish work (something of an enigma to Marc and I). Andrew phoned us soon after five to join him in the beer garden. We enjoyed glass after glass of ice cold Mosi; Andrew had caught wind of Marc’s birthday from our previous hosts and kept them coming. Not long and we had a full table of people, conversation and Mosis.
If the seven degrees of separation theory is true – it was put to test that night. Meeting Theo through Andrew, we found we shared the same trade. Not long and I was talking to Ken, one of our suppliers and family friend in Port Elizabeth, after Theo called him on his cell. Small world after all.
Andrew led Marc and me to the dining hall and told us to tuck in. A spread buffet had us satisfying our tapeworms and going back for numerous helpings. The desserts were unreal and put our sugar craving to rest.
The problem when Andrew is your host is that there is no end to your drink. Before you have blinked, your glass has been topped up and you have another drink on its way by the time you halfway. Drinking with Andrew Woodley might be a dangerous business but you enjoy every second of it.
Andrew offered to show us Fringilla River Camp on the Zambezi River, but unfortunately we had to meet friends in Lusaka. I can only imagine the fun and sights at the camp. One day we’ll be back.
