Matt and Halszka Covarr set off from England in their 1993 Land Rover to arrive home in Plettenberg Bay, nine months and 17 punctures later,  with a lifetime’s worth of experience and memories. They had also learnt a valuable lesson – next time they’re taking a Land Cruiser.

Matt and Halszka Covarr set off from England in their 1993 Land Rover to arrive home in Plettenberg Bay, nine months and 17 punctures later,  with a lifetime’s worth of experience and memories. They had also learnt a valuable lesson – next time they’re taking a Land Cruiser.

Both Matt and Halszka grew up in Plettenberg Bay where, at the tender age of four, they bumped into each other at nursery school – only to get married 27 years later.

After school they went their separate ways, Matt qualifying as a graphic designer and going on to work in London, while Halszka completed a doctorate in zoology.

Matt’s passion for travel began after he finished his studies, when he and friends headed for Tanzania in an ancient Land Rover. A few months later he was back in London, desperate for cash.

After spending some time washing dishes, painting houses and selling books to make a living, he took on the job of designer at Sotheby’s.

“The benefits of living in the centre of the world brought on further adventures,” Matt recalls. “Like pedalling a bicycle from London to Istanbul (about 7 500 km).

And undertaking a mammoth journey from London across the Atlas Mountains in Morocco to the northern part of the Sahara desert – in an old Citroën saloon car which I’d rescued from a scrap yard for a mere £100 (R1 400*).”

But, after eight years of living in Europe, he realised that South Africa is a hard habit to shake – the colour, the life and the total absence of dull moments that we often seem to take for granted.

“The dream of arriving back with a wad of sterling is why most South Africans land up in the UK in the first place. But then I thought: How about actually blowing all of that just getting home? And so the idea was born.”

“Halszka and I set aside a year in which to make the return journey from London to Plettenberg Bay.”

While Halszka was writing her doctorate at the University of Pretoria, she was able to spend a few months at a time in the UK, during which time she helped with the preparations for the trip.

 In the end the trip lasted nine months. “It was the most incredible transition and gave us a better understanding of what it is that makes our beautiful continent so inarguably unique.”

Exactly six months after completing the journey, the two got married in Plett.

The highlights and low points of your journey?
Our journey took us through Belgium, France, Germany, the Czech Republic, Poland, Slovakia, Hungary, Romania, Bulgaria, Turkey, Syria, Jordan, Egypt, Sudan, Ethiopia, Kenya, Uganda, Tanzania, Malawi, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Namibia and finally South Africa.

It’s often the so-called “troubled spots” that present some of the highlights of a journey. This certainly applied throughout the Middle East.

Turkey, Syria and Jordan seemed to burst at the seams with hospitality. If we’d accepted every offer of tea, accommodation and meals we’d had there, we’d still be trying to move through the place. Sudan was another example of such kindness to strangers.

The fact that you can stop and camp just about anywhere in these countries means you can travel 20 km or 500 km in a day – it all depends on whom you meet and what you come across.

Densely populated countries like Ethiopia, where you are constantly being mobbed or watched by crowds of people, can be exhausting and present a challenge to your perception of yourself as an open-minded person. Ethiopia was by far the most difficult country to pass through, but certainly one of the most beautiful.

Definite highlights that spring to mind are the city of Petra and the Wadi Rum desert in Jordan, the great wildebeest migration in the Masai Mara, tracking gorillas in Uganda, and the Kaokoveld in northern Namibia.

But probably the biggest highlight was the fact that every-thing was unknown. That took a while to get used to. But we soon realised that having no home and not knowing where we’d sleep at night created the most exhilarating sense of freedom. Waking up on the roof rack, as the sun rises, not knowing exactly where you are, is a great feeling.