Starry, starry night

Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.

Photos taken from the Namib Desert
Song Lyrics - Vincent, by Don McLean

Hiking in South Africa

Up until now my stories have been a lot of, I did this ... then I went here and did that ...
So far that has worked reasonably well as a form of narrative, particularly since I only visited most places for a short time. Once I was in South Africa though and had a car I would cover a lot more distance, and see a lot more places, so I am going to do some themed posts, rather than focussing on a chronological order of things.

As always I will try to focus on the highlights, the stuff I found interesting and exciting, and the challenging stuff that makes for an interesting tale (i.e. when things turn the shape of a heavily bottomed yellow fruit).

So for my first theme, I did a lot of hiking in a number of different places, with some really awesome scenery. The advantage for you guys that follow my travels is this post will be heavy on the photos and somewhat light(er) on me gabbing on about random stuff. But first, a little gabbing about random stuff ...

I have some friends I know from Perth who now live in Eastern Cape, in the former "homeland" area known as the Transkei (area around the Kei river). This area has now been renamed far more interestingly, as The Wild Coast, and as you will see from the photos, it is an appropriate moniker.

I spent a bit of time visiting with my friends Mark and his wife Kate, and used their place in Zithulele as a base to visit the surrounding area. Before I get into the hiking part, I have to give these guys some praise for basically being really awesome people, and that story also needs a touch of history. I first met Mark's twin sister Laura through a mutual friend, and through her, Mark and Kate. Laura worked at the Zithulele hospital as a physio for about 3 years and left last September to study a masters degree in London (about a week before I got to Africa). Mark and Kate only just moved there, arriving in December. Kate is a doctor working at the hospital, and Mark is spending time at Jabulani, one of the NGO's there which is helping the local folk to get a better education and also to get jobs. He is now also the go to person for any issues around the doctors accommodation (they had a few break ins, and he was dealing with security stuff and the police investigators etc.). He's always busy sorting stuff out for someone.

I won't go into too much detail, but the hospital is definitely a challenging place to work, but also run and staffed by an incredible team of people, who all work really hard, doing on call at nights and weekends as well as working Mon to Fri every week. I'm sure my many doctor friends at this point are thinking yeah, all hospitals fit that description, but I can say a rural hospital in Africa is definitely high on the list of challenging workplaces. Mark gave me a tour once, and while there are plenty of buildings, almost half of them, built I think in the 50's, have been officially condemned, yet patient requirements mean they are still in use. Within Kate's first couple of weeks she stitched up a guy who had been sliced and stabbed 20 times with a panga (machete), wielded no less than by his own son, I saw photos, it was pretty gruesome. She also delivered an extremely premature and extremely small baby weighing it at only 900 grams (less than 2lb in the old terms). Two months later it went home with it's devoted mother at twice that weight. See, awesome people.

Ok, now the hiking stuff (and photos) ...

The Wild Coast

From Mark and Kate's place I first did a day hike to a place known as Hole in The Wall, accompanied by Marius, who was on his summer holiday visiting his girlfriend Ashley who also works at the hospital.

There were some long beaches ...

And some cliffs ...

With some slightly adventurous climbing (I know this isn't particularly challenging, but the more difficult bits needed both hands) ...

A precariously hanging rock ...

A goat up a tree ...

 

Yes, really, a goat up a tree, at the top of a steep gully ...

And a rocky island ...

With a hole in it (and therefore famous for being careless and losing a piece of itself) ...

It's kind of like the old adverts for aero chocolate if anyone remembers those - it's the bubbles of nothing (the missing bits), that make it really something ...


I went away from the area for a couple of weeks (that will get mentioned in another post), but to stick with the area, I came back this way again to visit Mark and Kate again (another break in had happened), and I hiked off for a few days to a really nice backpackers called Bulungula (to be discussed in yet another post).

From Zithulele to Bulungula was a good 5+ hour hike along some pretty impressive coast.

It was a hot day, so there were lots of people swimming at the beach ...











Yet I was doing a 5 hour hike in the middle of this hot day, smart man that I am, where there were no shady trees, but lots of green spiky things ...












A rock with a cleft chin ...

A new island being created, also topped with spiky things ...

And some really cool looking grasshoppers ...

I stayed a few days at Bulungula and then hiked back to Zithulele via a different route. I had a recommendation to head inland and find a forest trail. At one point I came up to a ridge and realised I'd missed the trail as I could see the forest about a kilometre away in the direction of the coast, but I'd also already walked past half of it, so I carried on the way I was going. By this stage I was walking through farming area, and regularly going past clusters of huts. There were very few fences, they fence small compounds for the animals to spend the night, but during the day roam the countryside, often under the watchful eye of young boys who quite possibly could have done with a little time in school, but this is their way, and how they've done things for a long time.

At one stage I stopped for a rest break and sat down on a concrete block close to one of the huts. Coincidentally I just happened to choose a block in front of a hut belonging to possibly one of the few people along my route with really good English. Most of them have a basic knowledge of English, but as I learned this guy had gone to East London (big town on the SE corner of Sth Africa) so he could get a much better education than was offered at the local schools. After finishing school he had returned to his home area, but now was unable to get work. He approached me on this basis, hoping that there was some way I could help him with a job, (I got these requests periodically, from hitch hikers I gave lifts to, and people I passed when out for a walk.

After I explained I was an Australian and could neither provide him with employment, nor seek any for myself, I got up to set off hiking again. Asking if he could join me, we set off and continued chatting. I think more than anything he wanted to practice his English, and commented to me that all the people we passed would be surprised to see him talking to a white person, as they didn't know of his language capabilities. At one point someone called out to my companion. Although I don't understand the local language, Xhosa (X pronounced with a click), I guessed at the meaning of what was called out as it was obviously phrased as a question ending in the word Xhosa. My temporary companion confirmed that yes they wanted to know if this whitey could speak Xhosa.

He was very surprised when he asked if I'd ever been there before, "no", and didn't have a map. How did I know my way, without a guide, or getting lost. I explained that I had hiked from Zithulele to Bulungula along the coast, and didn't need directions as the backpackers there faced the beach. Hiking back it wasn't a concern as Zithulele was on top of a hill, I knew what it looked like from this side, and so long as I was pretty close, I could find it no problems. To demonstrate this, I point at a far off ridge line near the coast with a slope of exposed red dirt, and indicated that immediately to the left of this was the 'Wild Lubanzi backpackers' (first beach photo above is the view from the ridge). He was astounded that I could know this and recognise it from so far away having only passed by there once. I frequently hike off into the wilderness alone, I need to be good at spotting landmarks and able to know where I am and how to get back out again, something I often do by dead reckoning, rather than by having been there before.

On the topic of his first question, I didn't really feel I could tell the guy that the chances of getting a 'proper job' as he wanted, and why he went away to get a good education, was a bleak scenario if he also wanted to live with his people in one of the poorest rural areas of the country. In fact a large portion of the able bodied men work away, sending money home and only visiting occasionally, particularly Christmas time. With lots of 'young' men, relatively flush with cash, and home for a short time, Kate and her fellow doctors were kept very busy. Sounds vaguely familiar to Perth, with the cashed up bogans who work FIFO on the mines coming home with more money than brain cells, especially after they've spent the first three days 'home' at the pub.

Anyway, back to the hiking, and the photos (in a minute). After leaving the Wild Coast, I continued on to East London myself to visit with my German friends Michelle and Andy who had been part of my trip to Kruger. I spent the night with Michelle and her husband Andy (different Andy, and to avoid confusion I will refer to him as Andreas). Along with their friend Tim, we had a Braai dinner, and then proceeded to spend half the night playing Grass (a card game I taught the Germans on the Kruger trip).

The next day Michelle, Andreas, and I met up with Andy and another German working for Mercedes Benz, and headed to Hogsback to go hiking. This was my next planned destination, so worked perfectly for me, at the end of the day I just had to arrange accommodation, rather than drive 2 hours back to East London.

Hogsback is 'famous' for being the area that inspired Tolkien for the setting of the Hobbit and subsequently the Lord of the Rings books. I think that it may have just been the inspiration for The Shire, and he used other places for different settings in the book. There is also a place just near the town of Hogsback called Hobbiton.

The hiking involved lots of forest ...

Waterfalls ...

A big tree (known as The Big Tree) ...

A lady bug ...

My friends Andy ...

And Michelle ...





















Both of them sitting at the top of a waterfall ...

The view of the plains below ...

The group hiking out ...

And the mountain range for which the town was named, with the three Hogs Backs ...

After we'd hiked back out to the cars, and tried 5 different places to be able to get something to eat and drink, we eventually gave up on the food, and just had a drink. Then after saying our goodbyes I set off to camp for a few nights before heading for the south coast and the famous surf break at Jeffries Bay.

Unfortunately Supertubes really only comes to life in winter, and in the summer months the surf is erratic, when I was there it was dishing up ankle high ripples, to my supreme disappointment. The surf might improve on Friday or Saturday I was told, it was Tuesday, so after one night, followed by an early run on the beach and a quick swim, I carried on to the Garden Route region.

Where I found a really big bridge ...

Not this bridge, but an almost identical one stretching I believe over the same river very close by is the world's highest bridge bungy jump of 216m. I'm not quite that crazy, but met a few people along the way who are.

I arrived at a place which had been recommended to me called Wild Spirit backpackers (run by the family of the guy who runs the previously mentioned Wild Lubanzi). I will cover this place in a different post on awesome places, so will just focus on the hiking.

The backpackers has a couple of short walks, to a waterfall, a big tree (yes very original I thought), and a magic forest. Much more interestingly the surrounding area known as Tsitsikamma had loads of great hiking, of which I didn't do as much as I might have liked, but did cover a reasonable amount. I didn't get to do the Otter Trail, which had been recommended to me. It is ridiculously expensive, and you need to book ages in advance, and then take 5 days to hike 42 kms. Two days would be tough, three however would be relatively easy, five, really? I had thought of doing the first and / or last days, in and out as a day hike, but it was exposed coast and brutally hot, so I never got around to it.

I did however do some hiking, and in the interests of variety of pictures, I saw some wildflowers ...

A spiders webbed collection of leaves ...

A view of the coast and lagoon, and a nice twisty road climbing the mountain (would have been nice on a bike) ...

Later on I was trekking along that same coast (to the right of the above picture), and came to a few difficult sections ...

And I understood why the sign at the start recommended hiking at low tide. Further on I got to some really interesting stuff that involved climbing rather than hiking, and some planning to be able to place my water bottle on a ledge, climb up to it, and then repeat. On my way out following the trail I'd come to, I realised that all the seriously difficult stuff could have been avoided if I'd just noticed a sign. Still I was happy for the challenge and a bit of mild rock climbing, but also quite glad to not have to climb back down those same rocks. The bit in the photos was part of the trail though, just along the top of the black rocks.

Capital Punishment - Tribal Style

When I was in Tofo in Mozambique, this location was pointed out to me and named the Assassin's Hole (the notch in the rock at the far right of the cliff face area).

Basically as a form of fatal punishment, victims were thrown on to the rocks in front of the crashing waves. Even if they survived the initial impact, and could swim well enough to get through the pounding waves, the nearest beach they could get out of the water was about 1km away, and the executioners could easily walk it faster than an injured person could swim.


Whilst I was horse riding in Swaziland, I was shown their version of death by large rock. This mountainous rock is known as the Rock of Execution.

There was no second chance possibility here, unless they sprouted wings on the way down.



Elsewhere in the Drakensberg Mountains of Sth Africa there was this ...

Speaks for itself really. (Photo: Claire Norton)

Horse riding in Swaziland

I got a lift into Swaziland with a german couple, Nikolas and Johanna. The border crossing was simple, even with a car, the border security guys didn't even bother to have a look at it. We were heading towards the capital where Niko and Hanna (as they preferred) had a place to stay lined up. I as usual had no fixed plans or bookings, but a couple of backpackers in mind that I would like to get to.

On our way we saw a sign indicating a waterfall, so we decided to take the turn and investigate. After about 15km of gravel road we came to a lodge in the bush, and we had to pay 50 Rand to access the walking trails. By this stage we figured we'd come this far, we may as well have a look. It was a nice enough walk, and a reasonable waterfall, but borderline whether it was worth the distance and the price.

Back out to the main road and we were soon approaching the capital Mbabane, Swaziland is not that big. Some complicated directions and we'd found Niko and Hanna's contact, and then they gave me a lift to the bus depot near the centre of town to get myself out into the countryside where I would stay. I was glad to carry on, Niko and Hanna were great company, but I didn't feel envious of them staying in a fairly dinghy little cottage with the principal at a high school. I'm sure she was interesting to talk to, but my gut feel first impression was that I was really glad to be going somewhere else, and could we perhaps, you know, get a move on.

It seemed to be a general feel I got in the country, and I can't really explain why, but there wasn't much there I found particularly exciting that first day, and even the backpackers which was rated highly for the area had the loveliness of a dentist drill. OK, so it wasn't that bad, it just wasn't good. So I was off again first thing the next day, my next planned stop was a backpackers within a nature reserve, I had wanted to get here the first day, but time and local buses were not in my favour.

So following the instructions I got to a cafe where I could organise a shuttle transfer into the backpackers, it was 9:40am, sure we can be there at 5. I'm sorry, did I mention I am already here, 7 hours is quite a layover, any chance you could come sooner, like before lunch? OK, we'll be there in 10 minutes. Now I know that nothing stated as 10 minutes in Africa actually happens that quickly, but it was more promising that a 7 hour wait. It was more like 25, and I could live with that, it fit my expectations, and I was soon arriving at Sondwela Backpackers.

It was technically in the Mlilwane Wildlife Sanctuary, but separated by a kilometre or so from the forest itself, and almost empty. I stayed two nights and met about 5 people, one of whom was a weird guy (french I think) who always had a pair of headset speakers tied onto his head with sort of bandage. They didn't seem to be plugged in to anything to play music, just strapped on to his head. There was also a really nice couple from America, the guy, a teacher, with the surname Polite. I don't mean to mock Gijon (if you read this), I still find it a hilarious name for a teacher.

There was a number of activities that you could do in the park, and so I set of walking to the main park admin area. It turned out to have its own chalets, camping, and these weird grass huts built kind of like a cross between an igloo and a beehive. The doorway was so short that to enter it even my arse had to duck, possibly to avoid visits from the resident hippo that walks around at night.

The activity I was interested in was going on a game walk, sort of, only I wasn't the one who would be doing the walking. I booked in for an early morning (8am) horse ride the following day, it got really hot during the middle of the day and I wanted to go for a decent ride for a couple of hours.

After meeting my guide, and introducing myself as an experienced rider we set off at a slow walk. I expected that like most "riding for hire" kind of places we would mostly walk and have an occasional trot. I was pleasantly mistaken. As it was only the guide and myself, he soon asked if I was OK to trot, I said yes please, that would be great. Leaving all directions and decisions to his horse he started trotting with his hand on the horses rump looking back at me to see if as I had claimed, I actually knew my shit, or had just been talking it. He was quickly satisfied and urged on to a canter, still watching me rather than what was coming up ahead.

Over the next two hours we had a great ride, much of it was strangely familiar as a lot of the low land forest is eucalypts, and only up on the mountains was the forest mostly native. So it felt rather similar to horse riding in the forest near where I grew up, that is, except for the occasional antelope ...

... some native stripey equines ...

... and a bloody big crocodile ...

... sorry, let's try that again ...

OK, so not really like where I grew up.

Not long after we'd passed the crocodile, "Would you like to go faster", "Sure, that sounds good", and with that he was off, not just a steady canter, this was fast, and we dashed along this track through the forest at a flat out gallop, this was more like it. Along the way we went past a train track that had been abandoned to nature.

Later in the ride we had another race, a long flat gallop on a track through a field of long grass, and no matter how hard I encouraged the horse, leaning low over her neck, we couldn't catch the guide in front.

I hadn't been hugely impressed by Swaziland thus far, but this was definitely a great start to a day. Returning to the main park centre I past this trio of baby warthog ambling through the grass.

There was also a very wet horse heading back up the hill, unlike all the others who had been within a fenced paddock. I asked the guide about this, and he said that every day in summer this horse got himself out of the paddock and took himself down to the dam for a swim. Three times he had been attacked by a crocodile, claimed the guide, but he still made his daily trip down the hill for a swim.

Back at the park centre there was a large waterhole, so I got myself a late breakfast and enjoyed watching a number of weaver birds busy at work on their nests.

Swaziland claims to have all the different types of terrain you get in South Africa, all condensed down into a handy, get around in two days sized country. Having seen most of South Africa by the time I am writing this, they're dreaming. What Swaziland does have is a dysfunctional monarchy, and rampant AIDS. I read that 75% of all deaths are AIDS related, i.e. they had AIDS and dies from some medical complications (mostly tuberculosis as I later discovered, the combination is pretty much fatal). Also a very high proportion of the (sexually active) population has AIDS, possibly higher than 50%.

Despite proclaiming to his people that the Swazi should have smaller families (fewer wives), so they could look after them and provide for them, the King still follows tradition and every year at the reed festival picks himself a new wife. The reed festival is basically where all the unmarried girls go and cut reeds and then do a dance / parade in front of everyone else, topless and with only a skimpy beaded skirt. The royal princesses lead the dance, and any girl betrothed, but not married, wears a coloured ribbon to indicate she is not available.

I felt that maybe the King, in his late 40's should probably not be taking more teenagers as wives, he has 40 something already. Then I found out the previous king, his father, who had died in his 80's (remarkable in Africa, but at a time before AIDS), had over 120 official wives, and possibly as many unmarried mistresses.

Possibly, just possibly, this level of promiscuity could explain the previous horrifying bit of news. I'll discuss my observations of Africa and its many problems in separate posts.

The following day I caught up local bus to Manzini, the other capital city (the King decided to move town and so Mbabane became capital), Manzini is much larger and is still the functional centre of the country. I wasn't staying long, I just wanted to catch a bus to Durban. I found the bus and got myself a ticket, it was nearly full, I was optimistic about departing soon-ish. It took almost as many hours to fill the last 4 seats, and while the local buses will hit the road knowing they can fill the bus along the way, the long distance buses don't leave until they are full.

I spent much of the ride sitting next to a 17 yr old Swazi girl who had just finished year 11 at school and was leaving the country for the first time ever to visit her grandfather in Sth Africa. I found her difficult to understand at times, a combination of a quiet voice, unfamiliar accent and a lot of road and wind noise from the bus. I did however discover that she wants to be a doctor and that she would like to have 13 kids. In a country with a life expectancy of barely 40 I don't like her chances of hitting that kid tally, and hope for her sake she doesn't, I do however hope she succeeds in becoming a doctor. If only so that she discovers that the Swazi myth, that AIDS was a disease brought by the whites to control the blacks, is not true. It is quite probably a belief held in many places, but this was the only time I have heard of it.

When I passed back into South Africa I realised that as it had been a transition area for me between a number of African countries, I had now entered Sth Africa more times than any other country outside Australia.

I arrived in Durban about 6:30pm, with, as usual, no plans or bookings. I was dropped off near the middle of the city, and it didn't look like I should stay long, as it was soon going to be dark. The second backpackers I called had a room, but they were 30+ mins drive away, the fourth also had space and were only two suburbs away. Described as a party backpackers, I didn't envisage staying there long, such places are generally crowded with noisy drunks and stoners.

Whilst that was an apt description for some, I got a room in the quieter part of the building, and over the 10 or so days I stayed there, I met a number of really cool people. I was in Durban for the sole purpose of setting myself up with a car with which to explore Sth Africa and Namibia, but did spend a few days looking around and going to the beach.

I looked at buying a second hand one, a long term guaranteed buy back lease, and in the end courtesy of some lovely german doctors in training who were about to start a 4 month placement, I hired a car via a german website which gave me a great price, inc. unlimited kilometres and insurance coverage. Unfortunately the car the german girls selected wasn't available when they wanted it, so they had to hire a different car for the last week they had to explore before starting work / training, before collecting the long term hire car as the came back through town.

I never told them, but not only was my car choice available when I requested it, but I also got a free upgrade from a Kia to a VW. I was now ready to go exploring Sth Africa, and after 10 days in Durban I was ready to leave.