Karin Brynard writes: Old hens on safari

The invitation was for an all paid, all girls safari.

It landed in my lap via an acquaintance. Of a friend’s mother. There was no time to think, the plane to Hoedspruit was leaving. So I grabbed the last seat.At the other end, the “girls” turned out to be a group of five – all of them pushing 80 and beyond. They’d been bosom buddies for “millennia”, they explained.

Widowed, one and all, they were here for one last grand adventure. They welcomed me warmly into the fold and promised me a fun-fun-fun time.