Sunday, 13 May 2007
Graskop
I've been spending a few days in Graskop, in Mpumalanga province. At somewhere over 1400 m altitude, the nights are cold, while the fierce sun and fresh air make the days very pleasant. If you are ever in this area, I can't recommend Valley View Backpackers enough. It rocks! ... in a quiet sort of a way.
The very amenable Dutch owner, Edwin, picked up from Nelspruit, stopped at scenic viewpoints on the way and made me feel very at home. Which was just as well as I was the only guest here that night - although two cats kept me company on and off as they jumped in through the dorm windows. I had time for a late lunch at the famous (and highly recommended) Harrie's pancakes, followed by a lazy evening.
The next day Edwin led me off on a mountain bike trail which showed me how unfit I've become. It was quite a nice trail and took in the delightful Forest Falls, where we downgraded from the proposed swim to a sit with our feet in the water. After visiting the higher but less scenic Mac-Mac Falls (named after the profusion of Scottish gold prospectors in the region) we got to a pub where I was invited to soak up some true South African culture - an afternoon of rugby and beer. We tried to avoid too much of the beer, although the free glasses of punch seemed to be somewhat compulsory, being thrust into your hand by a barman who expected you to empty the glass sharpish so that he could refill it for the next victim. Luckily the way back was not as hilly as the route there, or maybe the alcohol had numbed me to the pain.
I can now answer my own earlier question about South African men - they don't all look as if they're about to leap onto a rugby pitch - mostly they look like Australian beer-swilling blokes, or possibly British beer-bellied bar bores. Although they do seem to like wearing very short shorts. I obviously just got lucky! And I'm only talking physique here, not personality. But while I'm taking back previous thoughts - I will definitely take back what I said about South African accents - I rather like the sound. At least, men's accents. It doesn't seem to work so well at a higher pitch.
Today I took a gentle walk on the "Jock of the Bushveld" trail. This Jock appears to be some sort of a local Greyfriar's Bobby, though I don't think he sat around any graveyards. It was a nice stroll, through long grass and between lots of strangely-shaped rocky outcrops. From the top of the escarpment there were big but not very exciting views of miles and miles of forestery plantations. In the other direction were more appealing views of some rather Pentland-like hills, and beyond them in the haze layer after layer of hills faded from blue-black to white-blue as they receded. Of course there were also some dramatic views down from the occasional precipice, into the straight-sided gorge below.
This is a great spot and I reckon I might be back - so much more still to explore.
The very amenable Dutch owner, Edwin, picked up from Nelspruit, stopped at scenic viewpoints on the way and made me feel very at home. Which was just as well as I was the only guest here that night - although two cats kept me company on and off as they jumped in through the dorm windows. I had time for a late lunch at the famous (and highly recommended) Harrie's pancakes, followed by a lazy evening.
The next day Edwin led me off on a mountain bike trail which showed me how unfit I've become. It was quite a nice trail and took in the delightful Forest Falls, where we downgraded from the proposed swim to a sit with our feet in the water. After visiting the higher but less scenic Mac-Mac Falls (named after the profusion of Scottish gold prospectors in the region) we got to a pub where I was invited to soak up some true South African culture - an afternoon of rugby and beer. We tried to avoid too much of the beer, although the free glasses of punch seemed to be somewhat compulsory, being thrust into your hand by a barman who expected you to empty the glass sharpish so that he could refill it for the next victim. Luckily the way back was not as hilly as the route there, or maybe the alcohol had numbed me to the pain.
I can now answer my own earlier question about South African men - they don't all look as if they're about to leap onto a rugby pitch - mostly they look like Australian beer-swilling blokes, or possibly British beer-bellied bar bores. Although they do seem to like wearing very short shorts. I obviously just got lucky! And I'm only talking physique here, not personality. But while I'm taking back previous thoughts - I will definitely take back what I said about South African accents - I rather like the sound. At least, men's accents. It doesn't seem to work so well at a higher pitch.
Today I took a gentle walk on the "Jock of the Bushveld" trail. This Jock appears to be some sort of a local Greyfriar's Bobby, though I don't think he sat around any graveyards. It was a nice stroll, through long grass and between lots of strangely-shaped rocky outcrops. From the top of the escarpment there were big but not very exciting views of miles and miles of forestery plantations. In the other direction were more appealing views of some rather Pentland-like hills, and beyond them in the haze layer after layer of hills faded from blue-black to white-blue as they receded. Of course there were also some dramatic views down from the occasional precipice, into the straight-sided gorge below.
This is a great spot and I reckon I might be back - so much more still to explore.
Thursday, 10 May 2007
Johannesburg
As the truck headed off towards Namibia, Mckenzie and I were left in Maun, having ended our trips. We were whisked off to the airport and flown on a nice little 16 seater to Jo'burg. Chris had organized a pick up and hostel, so soon were were settled in to the odd and rambling "Backpackers' Ritz". It was a strange, deserted feeling place, even when it was full. Situated in some squeaky-clean northern suburb, I felt as if I'd left Africa. The wide leafy streets bathed in hot autumn sunshine reminded me of Australia. The malls could have been in KL, but populated by the mix of people you'd find in London.
It was good to have a chance to shop for boring essentials and to see a movie (The History Boys - I'd recommend it to anyone who hasn't seen it), and of course to eat some excellent meals and sleep in a real bed. But I could have been anywhere.
Found a travel clinic where I saw the very expensive Dr Saner - shouldn't he have been a psychiatrist? - for a restock of deadly anti-malarials. Also showed him my legs which appeared to be being colonized by a rampant infestation of ringworm. See how much fun you can have a big city?
Went on a tour of Soweto, which was very interesting. Our guide Max was vigourous in his views, cheerful and positive in his outlook. Soweto looked on this sunny morning like a pleasant suburb full of smiling happy people. Even the squatter houses didn't look too bad - better than sqatter camps in Malaysia. Some parts were very well kept - apparently Soweto is home to a number of millionaires, and now that people own their homes, they are well looked after and improvements are being made. The population is still growing and building has yet to catch up. We hopped out of the van a few times for a look around and also spent some time at the Hector Pieterson museum. This gave a really good insight into the 1976 uprising. We also took a quick look at Mandela's and Tutu's houses (the latter a big place with lots of security). It was hard to believe, looking at Soweto, that it would be in the least bit dodgy to go and wander there on your own.
The next day, one of the guys from the hostel was mugged downtown. Seems he'd had a pretty grim experience, being strangled while another man held a knife in his face. A third man removed all his possessions. Eventually the French guy passed out and woke up on the pavement. All this while surrounded by hundreds of pedestrians and hawkers. As he bemoaned the loss of his lonely planet guide, I couldn't help thinking it might have been wise to have read it before setting off. He was in a real no-no zone, looking like a perfect tourist, right down to the "been there, done that" stickers on his daypack. Still, felt very sorry for him. I know it could happen to me too, and though I like to think I'd be more careful, there's still a lot of luck involved. Hey ho for Jo'burg!
Am now in sunny Nelspruit, on my way to Graskop. Have gone back and added photos to parts of the blog. Will try at least one more post before the course, then will leave you in peace for a while as the camp has no electricity.
Saturday, 5 May 2007
Okavango Delta
From Chobe to Maun was a longish and not very interesting drive. We camped near Maun - a cold night - before setting off by dugout canoe into the Okavango Delta. Here the Okavango river disperses five and a bit parts and hundreds of narrow channels. Little, if any, of the water flows on from here.
We were poled along in our canoes by local guides, following narrow channels between tall reeds. We set up camp near a small pool, and happily whiled away a couple of days. We went on a short walk on the first evening and a longer one the following morning. There were hippos and elephants, a couple of zebra and some antelope. I spotted a small snake which turned out to be a baby puff adder. It was an idyllic bushcamp, with nothing to do except sit around the fire, swim in the very refreshing water, or take a canoe for a punt. As the sun set a huge full moon rose on the opposite horizon.
I love the bushcamping. The simplicity of life. Using river water to wash and wash up. Having to strain water for tea through a shirt because it's so full of ash and bits of firewood...
Went for an exploratory canoe trip with Nick. Enjoyed punting us along, but enjoyed even more lying back in the canoe while he poled us back. Standing bare-chested in the stern, outlined by a perfect blue sky, he was quite the vision of youthful loveliness. Aah... Even better was his charming company. And don't worry - I'm not lusting after the dear young boy. Everytime it got too hot in the sun, we jumped into the water for a bracing cool-off. Back at camp, an elephant mooched about by our toilet hole.
The second evening, our guides took us for a "sunset cruise", which turned out to be a brief ride to a nice sunset viewing spot. Predictably, and prettily, the sun set. For the first time since arriving in Africa, mosquitoes came out to feed on me - so finally I hope to have got some use from my hundred pounds' worth of psychosis-inducing drugs.
We were poled along in our canoes by local guides, following narrow channels between tall reeds. We set up camp near a small pool, and happily whiled away a couple of days. We went on a short walk on the first evening and a longer one the following morning. There were hippos and elephants, a couple of zebra and some antelope. I spotted a small snake which turned out to be a baby puff adder. It was an idyllic bushcamp, with nothing to do except sit around the fire, swim in the very refreshing water, or take a canoe for a punt. As the sun set a huge full moon rose on the opposite horizon.
I love the bushcamping. The simplicity of life. Using river water to wash and wash up. Having to strain water for tea through a shirt because it's so full of ash and bits of firewood...
Went for an exploratory canoe trip with Nick. Enjoyed punting us along, but enjoyed even more lying back in the canoe while he poled us back. Standing bare-chested in the stern, outlined by a perfect blue sky, he was quite the vision of youthful loveliness. Aah... Even better was his charming company. And don't worry - I'm not lusting after the dear young boy. Everytime it got too hot in the sun, we jumped into the water for a bracing cool-off. Back at camp, an elephant mooched about by our toilet hole.
The second evening, our guides took us for a "sunset cruise", which turned out to be a brief ride to a nice sunset viewing spot. Predictably, and prettily, the sun set. For the first time since arriving in Africa, mosquitoes came out to feed on me - so finally I hope to have got some use from my hundred pounds' worth of psychosis-inducing drugs.Monday, 30 April 2007
Chobe National Park, Botswana
Went on an excellent morning game drive here as soon as we arrived. The park was full of dead trees, reaching up eerily above the bushy smaller trees and scrub. Botswana has a non-culling policy, so the growing elephant population has done great damage. But as our guide said, "nature will take care of it."
Not surprisingly, we saw lots of elephants. Also kudu and a sable and a baby crocodile. There were marshall eagles and fish eagles and lots of pretty little birds I can't name. The Chobe river is still in flood, so there was plenty of water to add variety to the scenic wonders of the park. It was hard to tell which was the river and what was just flood-plain, but in amongst it all were some distant crocs and hippos.
In the afternoon we returned to the park for a game cruise. Again there was lots to see and oodles of lush scenery to soak up. Most of all there were elephants. Hundreds of them. All along the bank we saw groups coming down to drink from the river. Adults tried to shield babies. Babies suddenly shot off in a wobbly galloping toddle. And gradually the golden tones of sunset gave everything a wonderful warm glow.
A fabulous day. (Yes, another one!) A beautiful park, with so much to see. Only limits of time stop me waxing on...
Back at the campsite, I spent a very pleasant evening with a dashing (well, rather appealing) Afrikaaner called Willie :) Do all these Afrikaaners look as if they're warming up on the touchline and about to spring into action, or is it just the ones I've been meeting?
Not surprisingly, we saw lots of elephants. Also kudu and a sable and a baby crocodile. There were marshall eagles and fish eagles and lots of pretty little birds I can't name. The Chobe river is still in flood, so there was plenty of water to add variety to the scenic wonders of the park. It was hard to tell which was the river and what was just flood-plain, but in amongst it all were some distant crocs and hippos.
In the afternoon we returned to the park for a game cruise. Again there was lots to see and oodles of lush scenery to soak up. Most of all there were elephants. Hundreds of them. All along the bank we saw groups coming down to drink from the river. Adults tried to shield babies. Babies suddenly shot off in a wobbly galloping toddle. And gradually the golden tones of sunset gave everything a wonderful warm glow.
A fabulous day. (Yes, another one!) A beautiful park, with so much to see. Only limits of time stop me waxing on...
Back at the campsite, I spent a very pleasant evening with a dashing (well, rather appealing) Afrikaaner called Willie :) Do all these Afrikaaners look as if they're warming up on the touchline and about to spring into action, or is it just the ones I've been meeting?
Sunday, 29 April 2007
This 'ere truck
For those of you who've been emailing and leaving comments requesting more info on the truck and its inmates, here we go...
L to R: Marina, Nick, Phill
Phill, otherwise known as Sargeant Smutt, is really good company. And not always smutty.
A typical interior scene, featuring Denise, Aaron, Marina, Nick
Nick with his trusty guitar. He claims not to remember the night he serenaded me in Vic Falls.
The Truck.
Those of you who have been paying attention will know where and when this was taken. Also featuring Mckenzie modelling a classy camp chair and Sam cooking, with Steve trying to look useful in the background.
The driver.
That's him on the left. Sorry, Chris, not your best look.
Chris is our driver / guide / cook and all round good guy. Good company and really passionate and knowledgable about Africa.
A clearer, but not necessarily better, view of Sam. Another all round good guy. Guaranteed to say exactly what he thinks. Likely to remove his clothes when inebriated.
Steve. Another nice guy. Wow, the truck must be full of them! Something of a hidden gem I think, this one.
Tanya
Tanya had a certain something with her royal wave. Sweet girl, from Costa Rica. Lusted after by every male on the trip. Sadly she hopped off in Vic Falls.
Nick again. Well, really he deserves an entry of his own, but I don't want him to get ideas. Nick is a fabulous guy. "So nice," as he would say. Interesting to talk to and really interested in everyone he meets. Can usually be found surrounded by children or learning the latest local language or arranging to meet supermarket shelf-stackers in downtown bars. He's full of enthusiasm for everything: "I wish I had a trunk - I'd swing it about," or "Wow.. it's like I've got magic in my fingertips!" Plans to start med school and I reckon he'll make a lovely doctor. As long as he remembers to treat people after chatting to them...
To be continued...
Vic Falls revisted
Went back to the falls the next day. It couldn't possibly have the magic that it had when experienced on my own, but it was still awesome and we had a good time. The wind must have changed, as it wasn't nearly so wet. Although sitting at danger point still had a saturing effect.
We stayed in town for a few days. Went out for a couple of good meals - warthog, impala, crocodile and ostrich all went down very well.
Lots of our group went bungee jumping, and again I longed to jump. But too late in the day. Hey, ho, maybe next time - I should be back at Vic Falls in a couple of months.
The whole group booked on to a sunset cruise (for sunset, read booze), which was only mildly scenic, but great fun nonetheless. It all got more exciting when the engines failed and we drifted helplessly downstream towards the thundering falls. No, not really. So we made our own, strange, entertainment.
The evening carried on in a beery vein when we got back to the campsite. Lots of people decided to go swimming, but I chose to sit and sip quietly. Then noticed Nick and Sam striding purposefully towards me - I just had time to rip off my shorts and shirt before being hurled into the pool. Fun and games in the pool, then later back in the bar... more fun and games. 'Truth or dare' soon became 'truth or truth', though I don't think anyone was called upon to reveal anything we didn't already know. Hugs and kisses were freely given by the lovely boys. Sam appeared naked, clutching his shorts and shirt and asking if anyone had seen his clothes. Or was that another night? Then there was the evening in the truck with Nick and his guitar...
There were a few green faces as the boys poured themselves onto the truck in the morning.
So we left Vic Falls, a place of rapture by day and partying by night, and headed for Botswana.
We stayed in town for a few days. Went out for a couple of good meals - warthog, impala, crocodile and ostrich all went down very well.
Lots of our group went bungee jumping, and again I longed to jump. But too late in the day. Hey, ho, maybe next time - I should be back at Vic Falls in a couple of months.
The whole group booked on to a sunset cruise (for sunset, read booze), which was only mildly scenic, but great fun nonetheless. It all got more exciting when the engines failed and we drifted helplessly downstream towards the thundering falls. No, not really. So we made our own, strange, entertainment.
The evening carried on in a beery vein when we got back to the campsite. Lots of people decided to go swimming, but I chose to sit and sip quietly. Then noticed Nick and Sam striding purposefully towards me - I just had time to rip off my shorts and shirt before being hurled into the pool. Fun and games in the pool, then later back in the bar... more fun and games. 'Truth or dare' soon became 'truth or truth', though I don't think anyone was called upon to reveal anything we didn't already know. Hugs and kisses were freely given by the lovely boys. Sam appeared naked, clutching his shorts and shirt and asking if anyone had seen his clothes. Or was that another night? Then there was the evening in the truck with Nick and his guitar...
There were a few green faces as the boys poured themselves onto the truck in the morning.
So we left Vic Falls, a place of rapture by day and partying by night, and headed for Botswana.
Vic Falls Photos
Managed to take a few photos in the drier places on my return visit, though none of them do justice to the falls. No words nor pictures can capture what I saw and felt.
Saturday, 28 April 2007
Victoria Falls
When I saw Victoria Falls, I cried.
It is the most spectacular sight I have ever seen. It's staggering.
The trail leads to numerous viewpoints, each wetter than the last. Some were dryish, some just sprayed you with a fine mist, but some were beyond belief. The spray fell like rain - as heavy as anything a Malaysian storm can throw at you - but from all directions - above, below, this side, that side. Rivers of water ran down my back and stomach, into my shorts. It smacked me in the face and under my chin. I ran through it, stood in it, held out my arms to embrace it, and laughed.
The falls are on the opposite side of the gorge from the trails and there was really only one place where I could see the river below. The water must only have been halfway down its fall when it met the spray coming up.
At Danger Point there is no fence, and I lay on the rock with my head hanging over the edge, into the gorge. My face was battered by a gravity-defying power-shower. There was nothing to see - a total whiteout - but it was fantastic to be there, to hear it and feel it and be part of it.
In other places I stood and gazed, hypnotized by the water till I wanted to fall with it.
A small horde of Chinese tourists juggled optimistically with a hopeless combination of umbrellas, ponchos and cameras. One dear lady kept determinedly tucking me under her umbrella. And before I knew it they were all taking turns to pose with me for photos. They were a sweet crowd, but I was glad when eventually I made my escape.
Another trail led to a point where you could see the Zambezi bridge and the gorge beyond the falls - a view interrupted every few minutes by someone plummeting down from the bridge attached to a large rubber band. For the first time ever, I wanted to bungee jump, just for the sensation of leaping into the gorge which had been tugging at me all morning.
In a dry sunny spot at Livingstone's feet, I sat and steamed. Soon I was dry enough to go and get wet again. And so the day wore on. Finally leaving, it felt all wrong to turn my back and go.
It is the most spectacular sight I have ever seen. It's staggering.
The trail leads to numerous viewpoints, each wetter than the last. Some were dryish, some just sprayed you with a fine mist, but some were beyond belief. The spray fell like rain - as heavy as anything a Malaysian storm can throw at you - but from all directions - above, below, this side, that side. Rivers of water ran down my back and stomach, into my shorts. It smacked me in the face and under my chin. I ran through it, stood in it, held out my arms to embrace it, and laughed.
The falls are on the opposite side of the gorge from the trails and there was really only one place where I could see the river below. The water must only have been halfway down its fall when it met the spray coming up.
At Danger Point there is no fence, and I lay on the rock with my head hanging over the edge, into the gorge. My face was battered by a gravity-defying power-shower. There was nothing to see - a total whiteout - but it was fantastic to be there, to hear it and feel it and be part of it.
In other places I stood and gazed, hypnotized by the water till I wanted to fall with it.
A small horde of Chinese tourists juggled optimistically with a hopeless combination of umbrellas, ponchos and cameras. One dear lady kept determinedly tucking me under her umbrella. And before I knew it they were all taking turns to pose with me for photos. They were a sweet crowd, but I was glad when eventually I made my escape.
Another trail led to a point where you could see the Zambezi bridge and the gorge beyond the falls - a view interrupted every few minutes by someone plummeting down from the bridge attached to a large rubber band. For the first time ever, I wanted to bungee jump, just for the sensation of leaping into the gorge which had been tugging at me all morning.
In a dry sunny spot at Livingstone's feet, I sat and steamed. Soon I was dry enough to go and get wet again. And so the day wore on. Finally leaving, it felt all wrong to turn my back and go.
Thursday, 26 April 2007
The Road Ahead
Driving through Malawi, Mozambique, Zimbabwe, I've started to get a sense of the vastness and varied beauty of this mighty continent. Watching the road reach out ahead, I found myself wanting to run towards each receding horizon.
Chris had a simple (so obvious!) solution, which didn't actually involve throwing me off the truck and driving away. Set off early in the morning, then walk till the truck catches up. So today I did that. And at the lunch stop I did it again. With an idiot grin on my face each step of the way.
Chris had a simple (so obvious!) solution, which didn't actually involve throwing me off the truck and driving away. Set off early in the morning, then walk till the truck catches up. So today I did that. And at the lunch stop I did it again. With an idiot grin on my face each step of the way.
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