After Karongwe Anel drove Marli and I home, via all the scenic parts of the Blyde River Canyon. It was good to be travelling with them, prolonging ecoTraining by another day. The view of the Three Rondavels was stunning, the company was good, and the pancakes in Graskop were of course delicious.
It was good to be back in Graskop, much like going home. Edwin turned my tin of beans into a tasty dinner and even invited me to stay and help run the hostel. I was sorry to have to decline, but with a flight to and tour in Namibia already booked, it didn't seem practical. It was easy to while a few days there, cycling to Lisbon and Berlyn waterfalls, sorting out my Karongwe photos and just enjoying doing nothing for a change.
My plan had been to head to Nelspruit on Thursday, catch up with a gorgeous bloke I'd met for a beer, then fly out on Friday morning. Edwin's suggestion though was to hike a local hill on thursday, then he'd take me direct to the airport on Friday morning, which seemed like a perfect plan. Of course it meant forgoing the opportunity of meeting up with lovely man... but need to be realistic here - well out of my league! The hike was great, excellent views of the area and especially dramatic was where the earth seemed to end at the escarpment.
My flight to Jo'burg from Nelspruit was in a little 30 seater plane, with a fabulous no-nonsense stewardess:
"Hi, can everyone hear me? Good. Do you all know how to do up a seat-belt and breathe through an oxygen mask? Great. Let's go!"
She then showed the two of us at the front of the plane how to open the door in an emergency and asked if that was ok. The guy across the aisle from me said he didn't understand, so she turned to me and said:
"Ok, you'll have to do it - he doesn't speak English."
And off we went.
Spent a couple of hours in Jo'burg airport, discovering that you can't take duty free into Namibia from SA, and buying a thermal vest.
The flight from Jo'burg to Windhoek was only noteworthy in that we were served lunch by the most ridiculously camp man I have ever met. And he had an alarming pudding-bowl haircut.
Windhoek is tiny. Hard to believe it's a capital city. The backpackers was a bit iffy too, though they did do free pancakes and coffee for breakfast. And so to the south...
Showing posts with label South Africa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label South Africa. Show all posts
Sunday, 17 June 2007
Tuesday, 12 June 2007
EcoTraining, Karongwe Game Reserve
Four weeks sounded like a long time, but it turned out to be very little time in relation to the amount there was to learn. This was an entry level course, leading to FGASA level one guide qualification and/or EcoTraining’s own certificate in field guiding.
Days consisted of walks, drives, lectures, study (or volleyball) time and meals. On walks we learnt to identify trees (at least 33 of them), grasses (20!), animal tracks and dung, and, in theory, birds. I say ‘in theory’ because personally I struggled with this. Trees, even though most of them were mere shrubs, are somewhat larger and less likely to fly off, giving one a bit more of a sporting chance. On drives, we learnt about whatever was around, including more tracks and birds, while trying to find some elusive game. Learning manoeuvre the Landrover, brief our ‘guests’ and generally be a guide gave us all plenty of opportunities for amusing mistakes.
On our first morning, we came across a giraffe with a newborn calf, its umbilical chord still hanging long and fresh as it pottered about. That afternoon we tracked lions on foot and with the help of some vultures, found them. When the adult male gave us a verbal warning we slowly backed off, still watching, the sense of wonder and adrenaline adding up to a true feeling of awe.
Another highlight was watching a cheetah feeding on an impala. This cheetah had been hand-reared as a cub, so although fully rehabilitated into the wild, she was comfortable letting us come much closer to her than you would normally be able to. She was beautiful to watch. We saw how she had separated the stomach and intestines from the rest of the carcass, which she was eating. The stomach parts are eaten last, as their smell will attract more scavengers. The cheetah’s belly looked huge, so full of meat, and her face and jaws showed only the smallest traces of blood – such a tidy eater! The next morning we returned to the same spot and found her still there, finishing her last round of the meal, having managed not to lose her kill to the hyenas or anyone else during the night. We must have stayed with her for nearly an hour and even then it was hard to turn and walk away.
One morning as we set off on the vehicle, a hyena came walking towards us on the road, carrying what looked like a leg – of what, we weren’t sure. Her stomach showed that she’d already eaten well, and her teats that she had cubs. Clearly she was returning to her den to feed the cubs.
On drives when we saw nothing much, we still learnt plenty and this is what made the whole experience for me. By day, we followed tracks, by night we used a spotlight to search for the red reflection of nocturnal eyes. Our night-sightings were mostly bush babies, civets, jackals and hyena. One group saw a pangolin and at dusk one day we saw a beautiful honey-badger. And then there were the ‘near leopards’. For example, Rob’s:
“It’s a leopard. I don’t believe it. It’s a bloody leopard!” (a civet)
and Phil’s:
“Woh. Woh wohh wohh wohh wohh! “ (a bush)
As you may have realized, Leopards were our most sought-after and elusive animal. Sadly, we never did see one, although one ran in front of the vehicle as Theuns and Lizzie set off to pick up food one day.
There were impala aplenty, regular kudu, bushbuck, warthogs, giraffe and hippos. Occasional white rhino, elephants, crocodiles and lions. And of course birds. Did I mention the birds?
Sometime during the second week I became aware that when I closed my eyes, I saw trees. Well, leaves really. We seemed to spend a lot of time learning, then being tested on, trees. Notebooks allowed, tests were still tense with nervous excitement (well, nearly). Theun’s method involved lengthy lists of trees (“was this one over here number eight?”) whose names had to be written down – no fun on cold mornings when the fingers were too cold to hold the pen that had frozen and wouldn’t write anyway. With Rob the angst was dished up differently – whisper the tree and be sent to stand here or there depending on what you had said. Once everyone had answered, one group would be told they’d been right. And just to mess with our minds, Rob liked to send one person who was right to stand all alone, even when they were right, along with the others.
The same range of methods were also applied to learning tracks, poos and grasses. The whole business of tracking was fascinating, but not easy. Middens and scrape marks weren’t too bad, nor was digging your fingers into rhino dung to see whether it was still warm. And I’m not sure that an impala dung spitting contest was strictly necessary, but I imagine that after that we were all pretty sure what an impala pellet looked like.
Our lectures ranged from Ecology, Geology and Birds to the inner workings of a Landrover, by way of Mammals, Tracking and Conservation Management… the list goes on. One day we had firearm theory, which reminded me of “Today we have naming of parts” – who wrote that? The shooting was more fun, especially as Doreen, who’d never held a gun before, turned out to be the best shot in the group, earning herself the title of ‘silent assassin’.
Then there were the tests. For EcoTraining there were three tests, spread through the four weeks. In the final week there was also a lengthy field test which involved naming trees, listing their uses, naming grasses, tracks, poo and even rocks. And of course bird calls (“what?”) and birds (“where?”). Twice we had to give presentations to the rest of the group on subjects we’d chosen and researched, and of course this too was assessed. The much-hyped FGASA exam was almost a relief compared to Rob’s tests, being slightly easier and very much shorter. This test had a 75% pass mark, which if achieved qualified one for a FGASA practical assessment. This also doubled as EcoTraining’s practical, but those unfortunate enough to have just missed the 75% had to do a purely EcoTraining practical, which turned out too be much harder as well as more nerve-wracking, as it came in the form of a one-on-one with Rob. On FGASA drives one got a vehicle full of fellow students posing as guests, with the assessor sitting in the back corner. I think we were all agreed that it made a huge difference not only having ‘guests’ to talk to, but also knowing that they were all rooting for you. More on the assessment drive later…
The Camp
A normal day started with a six o’clock wake up, a quick cup of tea and then a three hour walk or drive. On returning to camp we had a huge hearty breakfast, followed by a lecture. After this was study time, volleyball or relaxation, followed by tea at three o’clock. Then there was either a two hour walk or a three and a half hour drive, followed by dinner and campfire and more study or relaxation time.
There were twenty students on the course, with two and a half instructors (one left halfway through, but Rob and Garth managed to put up with us to the end), so we were split into two or three groups for walks and drives. We had a good mixture of ages and of foreigners and South Africans, exam-takers and just-here-for-fun folk. There was no-one not to like and we all got on pretty well. Evenings round the campfire were always fun, not only thanks to Phil’s inexhaustible humour and Garth’s wicked joke-telling, but also because there were just so many interesting people.
Sometime during the second week I became aware that when I closed my eyes, I saw trees. Well, leaves really. We seemed to spend a lot of time learning, then being tested on, trees. Notebooks allowed, tests were still tense with nervous excitement (well, nearly). Theun’s method involved lengthy lists of trees (“was this one over here number eight?”) whose names had to be written down – no fun on cold mornings when the fingers were too cold to hold the pen that had frozen and wouldn’t write anyway. With Rob the angst was dished up differently – whisper the tree and be sent to stand here or there depending on what you had said. Once everyone had answered, one group would be told they’d been right. And just to mess with our minds, Rob liked to send one person who was right to stand all alone, even when they were right, along with the others.
The same range of methods were also applied to learning tracks, poos and grasses. The whole business of tracking was fascinating, but not easy. Middens and scrape marks weren’t too bad, nor was digging your fingers into rhino dung to see whether it was still warm. And I’m not sure that an impala dung spitting contest was strictly necessary, but I imagine that after that we were all pretty sure what an impala pellet looked like.
Our lectures ranged from Ecology, Geology and Birds to the inner workings of a Landrover, by way of Mammals, Tracking and Conservation Management… the list goes on. One day we had firearm theory, which reminded me of “Today we have naming of parts” – who wrote that? The shooting was more fun, especially as Doreen, who’d never held a gun before, turned out to be the best shot in the group, earning herself the title of ‘silent assassin’.
Then there were the tests. For EcoTraining there were three tests, spread through the four weeks. In the final week there was also a lengthy field test which involved naming trees, listing their uses, naming grasses, tracks, poo and even rocks. And of course bird calls (“what?”) and birds (“where?”). Twice we had to give presentations to the rest of the group on subjects we’d chosen and researched, and of course this too was assessed. The much-hyped FGASA exam was almost a relief compared to Rob’s tests, being slightly easier and very much shorter. This test had a 75% pass mark, which if achieved qualified one for a FGASA practical assessment. This also doubled as EcoTraining’s practical, but those unfortunate enough to have just missed the 75% had to do a purely EcoTraining practical, which turned out too be much harder as well as more nerve-wracking, as it came in the form of a one-on-one with Rob. On FGASA drives one got a vehicle full of fellow students posing as guests, with the assessor sitting in the back corner. I think we were all agreed that it made a huge difference not only having ‘guests’ to talk to, but also knowing that they were all rooting for you. More on the assessment drive later…
The Camp
A normal day started with a six o’clock wake up, a quick cup of tea and then a three hour walk or drive. On returning to camp we had a huge hearty breakfast, followed by a lecture. After this was study time, volleyball or relaxation, followed by tea at three o’clock. Then there was either a two hour walk or a three and a half hour drive, followed by dinner and campfire and more study or relaxation time.
There were twenty students on the course, with two and a half instructors (one left halfway through, but Rob and Garth managed to put up with us to the end), so we were split into two or three groups for walks and drives. We had a good mixture of ages and of foreigners and South Africans, exam-takers and just-here-for-fun folk. There was no-one not to like and we all got on pretty well. Evenings round the campfire were always fun, not only thanks to Phil’s inexhaustible humour and Garth’s wicked joke-telling, but also because there were just so many interesting people.
The Sleep-out
One night we slept out in the reserve, beneath the stars. Ignoring all the advice they’d given us during the bushcamping lecture, our instructors (sorry, trainers,) took us to a carefully selected site in a riverbed, where we built a huge fire. Leona dug us a terrifying toilet, dinner was cooked on the fire and sleeping bags were rolled out. We took turns to keep watch through the night on instructions not to wake up the instructors for anything non life-threatening – “You can scare off hyenas yourselves”. I was lucky enough to draw an early watch, the only difficulty being identifying and learning to ignore each new grunting or snoring sound as another person fell asleep. After handing over our watch, I snuggled down to enjoy the show. I didn’t want to sleep – it seemed such a waste to lie sleeping with such a beautiful wonderful night all around me. I watched the enormous constellation of Scorpio slowly arc overhead, in between gazing in wonder at the Milky Way and rolling over occasionally to lose my thoughts in the fire. In the morning, drinking tea by the fire, I ached with the joy of being there and the sadness that this was not my real life.
The highs and lows
The highs were many – every drive, walk, lecture, every starry night and evening fire, every cold morning had something to make me pause and wonder, smile. The low was knowing that this was only some sort of dream – what are my chances of ever living this life? And how could I ever know enough? Be good enough? There were times of huge frustration and disappointment in myself. I wasn’t going to do the practical – didn’t think I could – but after being a guest on other people’s assessment drives, I decided to give it a go. So if nothing else, I overcame my fear of failure enough to try. That should give me some satisfaction, but it doesn’t. I passed exams and assessments, but on a personal level I didn’t pass a thing. Rob asked me if I’d ever believed in myself, and I thought no, but only later did I realize or remember how I used to be, just a couple of years ago. Although there should have been little time for it, there was a lot of opportunity for introspection and reflection. But of course no answer to the big question – can I ever be the person I want to be?
On a cheerier note: the ultimate warm fuzzy feeling was Rhodes putting his arms around me and saying "I'm proud of you".
Also warm and fuzzy - but this time, literally - was Rob pulling my beanie down over my face every time he passed by.
Other things that make me smile to remember:
- Everyone whistling the French national anthem as Alex drove us off into the night (and a rock),
- Carole and her obsession with Amarula
- Sarah hopping up to the vehicle in her sleeping bag - and getting in,
- The study group that disintegrated into a rowdy quiz-show,
- Alex's presentation on the 'orny plates of the pangolin (imaginez s.v.p. un accent francais tres fort)
- Leona telling me I should be a safari,
- Phil trying not to feed his legs to a lion, and trying not to look worried.
- Actually, Phil at all times.
- The night drive where we spent ages star-gazing with Garth
- Andi singing "hey mr karongwe" (actually, I'm not convinced, but it was funny at the time)
- The lion chasing the vehicle, Garth saying "Stop!" then seeing the lion and changing his mind, "Go!Go!"
- Michael identifying a grey heron as a black-headed oriole, without a moment's doubt, a hint of a smile, or any embarrassment. Calmly confident, I'd say.
- All those visions of virility on the volleyball court (eat your heart out, Denise)
- Matt singing
- Andi and Äneri (no further comment - minors read this)
- Carl's obsession with the black mamba
- What was Sarah carving from that piece of wood?
- Dorinne's giggle, and jokes, and animal spotting
- The flying spaghetti monster
- Cliff and Phil and Matt, getting me through that drive...
no doubt more will follow as I remember
The assessment drive
(coming soon!)
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.
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