At the pinnacle of her career, orthopedic surgeon Ava King conquers the lucrative medical field of London.
A wild and intimate night with competitive Formula One driver James Ellis ends with Ava being stood up. The rejection leads her straight into...
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Christmas came and went. And during a heat wave, no less. I'm not complaining! My colleagues and friends in London were all rather green with envy when I sent pictures of my unfiltered sea view with perfect sunny blue skies.
On Boxing Day we took a long, but beautiful, three day road trip along what is known as the Garden Route. We stayed over at guest houses or B&B's on the way, enjoying the landscape change from ocean views and sprawling mountain ranges to plush vegetation and desert land, until we eventually ended up alongside the Olifants River, to my home in the bushveld. My own slice of heaven.
Situated in the legendary Sabi region, which is world renowned home of the Big 5 and countless other species, where it's not uncommon to be woken up by roaring lions in the distance, cackling hyenas, and chirping impala. We've often had uninvited, thirsty neighbours with huge trunks and tusks drinking out of the pool.
This has always been my ultimate dream. It's a five bedroom home with en-suite bathrooms and outdoor showers to get that true bush experience. The deck is set like a tree house, using natural trees as pillars, and views of the African bush.
We have our own safari vehicle, with the estate providing us a game ranger to take us on safari drives twice a day. He's also equipped to take us on Bush walks, my favorite thing ever. You just don't know what's lurking behind the next bush. The rule of thumb: never run; but if you do, make sure you can outrun the slowest person there.
It's the best place to just vegetate and be free and well, wild.
New Year's Eve is a chilled, quiet affair. We decided to have a dinner at the boma, a simple fish braai after our sunset game drive, while playing cards, smoking hookah pipe (Ryan's favorite pastime), laughing, dancing and having fun. As a family who doesn't drink, we sure know how to keep each other entertained.
I head back to the kitchen for dessert, half laughing, half answering my buzzing phone... who calls on New Year's Eve?
"Hellloo??"
There's a long silence. I look down at my phone seeing a +44 number and realize it's a call from the UK, so there usually is a delay in the connection. Plus, being in the Bush means my signal is terrible; one of the many perks of this place.
But this is a very delayed delay.
"Hello??" I say again.
And then I hear it. A hike in breathe followed by a familiar Scottish brogue.
"Ava. Hi, its me... I mean, me, James."
I'm dumbfounded. And I panic, desperately tapping the red end call button on my screen and throwing my phone onto the kitchen island as though it were on fire. Then I take a slow step backwards.
"And now?"
I startle as Farah walks in, eyeing me suspiciously while. "Are you ok? You haven't looked this pale since you stepped off the plane." She teases at my newly acquired, more natural crispy olive tan.
