Accidental Tourist: Why chaos is a cool thing

Holidays in first-world countries are fine - but offer no surprises. Hurray for the unpredictable, writes Kate Sherry

Stepping out of one's front door can be an uncertain business. Bilbo Baggins knew all about this, and although my chances of having to wrangle dragons on a trip to Pick n Pay are small, I too like to leave home prepared. Emergency snacks and some reading matter at the very least, jump leads and a fully charged cellphone non-negotiable.

South Africa has a pretty high "anything can happen" index. A train carriage could explode. You might strike up a friendship with a township music mogul in the Home Affairs queue. Or witness an elderly lady face-plant on the pavement and end up driving her home.

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Visiting the Netherlands, I'm struck by the contrast. The first thing to notice is not just that the Dutch are always on time but also that they are never early.

Waiting for a train, I find myself alone on the platform until mere seconds before its arrival. Then, as if from nowhere, a tide of passengers sweeps up the escalators and into the carriages. It's almost as if they know ahead of time exactly what is going to happen and plan their lives accordingly. This is new to me.

Through the window of my punctual train, I look out on smooth fields bordered by precision-cut canals. Homes are built a mere foot above the water level, no worries about flooding or tides. I imagine the early Dutch fathers, wresting this land from the sea with engineering ingenuity and their bare hands (including the odd pinky in a dyke). Small wonder their descendants expect a world predictable and conformed to their convenience. It's soothing but not very interesting.

Landscape might have more than a little to do with national psyche. Picture the hills of the rural Eastern Cape: vivid and picturesque, tortuous contours, wandering livestock. In the rainy season, flooding rivers sweep tractors from bridges and clay roads turn to impassable marsh. The ground itself declares that human beings are not in control. By contrast, suburban Cape Town is impossibly predictable and secure.

Yet it would not occur to my Dutch hosts to be pleased to find their cars still parked outside their houses in the morning. Or to keep a spare gas canister and set of rechargeable lights in the cupboard. Or, for that matter, swimming gear in the car boot, on the off-chance the day ends at the beach.

I think guide books should offer an uncertainty index, advising would-be travellers on the levels of predictability versus possibility on an average day in the selected destination. On the one hand, can you truly expect public transport to work as advertised, or should you allow wide margins of time and patience, in case your bus hits a cow?

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On the other, how likely are you to find yourself suddenly an honoured guest at the wedding of complete strangers? A higher measure of uncertainty can go both ways.

In my experience, higher uncertainty often goes with more general friendliness. Europeans, who can expect punctual trains and a comfortable retirement, are more likely to treat all strangers (especially friendly ones) as potential axe-murderers. Places more likely to feature famines, floods and impromptu riots (i.e. much of Africa) are famed for their hospitality.

Even within a country, such an index can vary widely. I lived in London for over a year without making friends with a single English person. Within days of moving to a small town in the north, I found myself invited on an overnight Midsummer-Eve fell-hiking expedition, followed by a village-green cricket game to celebrate the birthday of a friend of the housemate of the boyfriend of my new neighbour.

So take your pick. If you want a holiday (or a life) somewhere safe and efficient, be prepared for nothing more interesting than your coffee not spilling on the train. If you can tolerate some inconvenience and a few surprises, all the interesting people, beautiful landscapes and crazy travel stories of the world are yours.

• Do you have a funny or quirky story about your travels? Send 600 words to travelmag@sundaytimes.co.za