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Adventure and adversity make for more entertaining reading than comfort and kindness, which is a pity since the latter two are generally more enjoyable. But while our pleasant sojourn in Cape Town doesn’t make for the most exhilarating chapter in our journey so far, it is still an important one. After all, journeys, like life in general (I’ll do my best not to lapse into cliché) are shaped by the people you meet along the way. Meeting the Cordles not only allowed us to meet two immensely kind and fascinating individuals, but also gave us an insight into an Africa that we’d otherwise never see; an Africa not many see but, in its way, an important part of Africa nonetheless.

Anthony and Cathy Cordle are family friends of Davy, and were kind enough to offer us a bed for our two nights in Cape Town. Having tessellated in a tent for two nights in Stellanbosch, we were giddy with excitement as Cathy showed us to our respective rooms – each complete with en suite bathroom and double beds blanketed in clean linen. Outside, the garden boasted a quite breathtaking view of Table Mountain (which was sadly enveloped in cloud on the day we intended to visit it), while indoors our bellies were filled with hearty breakfasts, dinners and, as if we hadn’t had enough already, the pick of Anthony’s wine cellar.

Other than take in the sites (for the record; the waterfront and the botanical gardens, while the weather prevented our ascension of Table Mountain), we planned to use our time in Cape Town to address pending issues such as our Sudan and Libya visas, my malaria tablets and extra passport photos, and our finances (or lack thereof). While we managed to address the latter, everything else fell to the wayside as we gorged on the Lotus fruits of the Chordiles generosity.

This said, we didn’t waste our time entirely. We cleaned out and repacked the car, refuelled, cleaned the air filter, checked the tyre pressure and water. Meanwhile, to my horror, Giles was let loose in the supermarket to procure essential camping rations such as virgin olive oil, exotic spices and hard-to-pronounce sauces. The good news: we get to enjoy meals such as chicken rendang, ostrich and bacon ragu and butter chicken. The bad news, I’ll be out of money by Botswana.

As much as I doth protest at Giles’ extravagant supermarket spending, fine dining and lashings of Blended Shiraz Cabernet in the middle of the African bush is, well, quite cool.