The Last of South Africa

Wow, so here we are again. I swore to myself that I would get the South Africa piece finished as soon as my feet were on the ground and I had a computer to use whenever I fancied but alas, that was not the case and today marks a week from the day I left Cape Town. What a shock going from 33º C to snow. Thank god for Sus who showed up at the airport with a big down jacket and a fuzzy scarf in her hands. I was barely out of the arrival gate when she thrust them in my hands and said “You might need these, hon!” Up until then I was just thankful that I had a wool hat, socks, gloves and a scarf packed in my back pack. I am still not sure how they actually made it on the plane back with me and not dumped in a donation pile but I guess somewhere in my little head my brain was screaming, “Keep them, keep them! You are going to London after all”.

Now back to South Africa, which seems so far in my mind these days. We were just about to climb Sentinel Peak in the Northern Drakensberg, I believe. Having acquired our near useless sunscreen we headed off down a dirt road that wound its way around the edges of the mountains and up, up, up to the car park. After signing in – apparently the fog/mist gets quite bad and people often get lost – we were allowed to head through the gates and on our way to the top where we would hopefully see Tugela Falls, the highest falls in Africa, at over 3000 feet (second highest in the world). Sorry if I am repeating myself, I can’t remember what I have already written. The path started out quite easy and in fact, was paved, and then it sort of dropped off and we edged along the mountain up some switchbacks and over a few boulder strewn sections. Along the way we had a huge cobra cross our path. A South Africa walking by swore that cobras couldn’t live this high but after showing the pictures to the guards at the car park, it was confirmed that, in fact, we did see a cobra. It was actually quite beautiful and when puffed, had a bright yellow head/neck with some orange tinges to it. Fortunately he/she was not too bothered by us and slithered across the path and down into some bushes and rocks below rather than stopping and doing the full stand, which would have been quite spectacular.

At the end of the main path, we were presented with a metal ladder that went up a sheer cliff about five stories to a plateau where the falls should be. It actually was not that bad as long as you didn’t look down and realize what you were climbing up. Once on top, there was not a whole lot initially apparent. We could see back to Mont Aux Sources, the source of three major rivers and supposedly the Orange River, which goes all the way to the Atlantic (however, someone told me that this had been proven otherwise). Ahead was, well, open grasslands with a smallish stream/creek running across it. Being the adventurous ones, we decided to follow the river along to the other side. We figured there had to be a waterfall more spectacular than the one next to the chain ladder. And guess what? We were correct in assuming the Tugela falls was on the other side, however we couldn’t see it. Mist and fog was swirling up from the base so thick that all we could see was that the mountain came to an end and we could only hear the falls, not see them. That said, it was still spectacular watching the mist swirl about and clear slightly, giving a small glimmer of hope, only to close again and come rushing in as if to capture and engulf us. We did get a touch of clearing on the way down and were able to see back across the area called The Amphitheatre and realize how high up we actually were. The view was spectacular with bright green patches amidst the dark grey rock and sparking white mist. Best view I have ever had while taking a pee break (OK, you didn’t need to know that now did you?)

We returned to the hostel to a massive thunderstorm, lightening every few seconds followed by thunder and buckets (really) of rain pelting us as we ran across the lawn. It was spectacular to watch. Wayne unfortunately had to head to the airport to go back to reality but I curled up with my latest book, next to an open door, and enjoyed the storm from the dry interior of the building. I wish there was some way to capture it all on film (OK, you can on video but not snapshots). After the storm passed, the evening was clear and fresh, sparkling with the droplets of water still clinging to buildings, chairs, trees and the grass.

Having decided to give the Baz Bus a try – hmmm, should probably back up and explain what the Baz Bus is. Well, some brilliant person came up with the idea of creating a special bus just for backpackers. It goes from Cape Town to Jo’berg and one can either cut through the Drakensberg Range or go up further and through Swaziland. The bus stops at most of the better hostels along the route and if it doesn’t stop there, connects with shuttles to the hostels. The idea is that it is a safe and easy way to travel around South Africa and you never really have to schlep your bags very far as you are almost always dropped on the doorstep of the hostel. That said, you are often stuck to their time schedule and if the bus is full, you have to wait a day or two. On some of the routes, the bus only runs three times a week so you better be pretty happy with the hostel you are at if you have to wait. Reviews from people on it were mixed but in my case, it was the cheapest and easiest way to get from The Amphitheatre to Southern Drakensberg and the Sani Lodge. After giving the Baz a bit of a try, I am not so sure that it was the best way to go as they weren’t that great with info but then again, the mess (OK delay relay) was partly the hostels fault. I also could have made the trip on public transport with little additional money and bought myself an extra day in the Northern Drakensberg

So I wake up happy and excited to go on my next little jaunt. It is a Sunday morning, the sun is shinning and The Amphitheatre mountain range is unbelievably clear and spectacular before me. My morning was spent lounging, journaling and waiting for the Baz Bus, which showed up on time (for once apparently) at around 1:30. When I boarded the bus, I asked if I needed to call to arrange my transport to the Sani Lodge at the other end (Sani Lodge was a bit in the mountains but I really had no idea how far). I was told that no, I should call when I arrive. That bit of info was fine as the hostel had also given me a phone number to call when I arrived and said to call as soon as I got there to arrange transport. So, happy little me goes the two hour journey to Pietermaritzburg thinking that all will be well and when I arrive. I’ll call and wait a bit and then catch the next bus. Well, about ½ hour out from the stop, the girl next to me informs me that Sani Pass is a 2 hour drive from where the Baz Bus drops off. Well, at this point there isn’t much I can do so when we arrive at the drop point, I again as the Baz Bus driver where I need to go to catch the shuttle. He then tells me that gee, it is Sunday and well, the last shuttle would have already gone and that the public mini taxis (my other alternative) don’t have taxis that late on a Sunday and I should just ask the guy running the hostel. Funny, I thought it was Sunday two hours ago as well, hmmm, maybe not! Why he didn’t say that it was Sunday earlier and that I should plan on staying in Pietermaritzburg, I do not know. Or why the hostel, when I told them how and when I was arriving in Pietermaritzburg, didn’t say, Oh, gee, it is Sunday, you must wait until Monday, I am also not sure. Seems to be very typical in Africa, only providing half information and then when you speak with them later, they say “oh, yes, of course, that is right”, as if it was quite odd that you didn’t know in the first place.

In any case, the hostel manager was quite nice and helped me sort things out but it did mean that I had to stay the night there and get up bloody early the next day to get on a local taxi. So, early the next morning a Dutch girl (also in the same boat) and I got up early to head to the local taxi stand where we were smashed into a little white mini van. Since we were so early (well really on time but the bus won’t leave until it is COMPLETELY full) so we ended up sitting there for about an hour until the van was as packed as possible with four people per row and loads of luggage piled on top of our laps. Murielle (Dutch Girl) and I were lucky in that being so early we were able to stash our bags below our seats before anyone else could. It was quite a long drive and, as is always the case in local transport, the gentlemen between Murielle and I (we both took window seats) had quite a fragrance about them – not of roses in case you were wondering. The man next to Murielle kept stretching his arms out across the back seat wafting his odour across the entire row while the man next to me was quite happily dozing on my shoulder as I tried to get my head out of the window in hopes of fresh air.

Two hours later and with limbs that no longer wanted to function, we were unceremoniously dropped at the town of Underberg. From there we were supposed to call the hostel and have them pick us up. Well, we did call and alas, they had no driver for the day. Again, why they didn’t tell us this the day before when we both called (separately and at different times I might add), we will never know. They told us to take local transport. We trudged along back the way we came to the local transport stand and had a right difficult time of finding the taxi we needed. We finally broke down and ask a woman who turned out to be a Canadian aid worker. She helped us find the taxi but then told us it was completely full and that we would have to wait until who knows when to pick up the next taxi. It could have been hours. I think our crestfallen looks made her take pity on us and she offered to drive us to the lodge. She did, though, comment a number of times about how she shouldn’t do it as this wasn’t actually her car but an aid car but well, she offered so I guess we can’t feel too bad.

Finally I arrived at Sani Lodge (yeah!) it was incredibly beautiful there and very very different from the Northern Drakensberg which was massive mountains jutting out of the flat valley. Here the mountains rolled up and up and up until they hit Lesotho, the highest country in the world, which is why many people come to this area – to head up Sani Pass. That was mostly why I was there but also to see how different it looked from the Northern part. My plan was to take a trip the next day up to Lesotho through the Sani pass and then to spend the next day hiking. Well, the hostel decided to cancel their trip to Sani Pass and Lesotho as they didn’t have enough people. Just my luck I was thinking as it had been a trek to get there and then my one big thing in the area was shot to hell. Oh well. The hostel booked me on another company’s trip, which was shorter and, of course, much more expensive. At that point, I figured that I had gone all that way and I was damn well going to make it to Sani Pass and Lesotho.

My first day in Southern Drakensberg I spent on an incredible five hour hike through a valley, up a mountain, across and plain and finally down to a river with waterfalls and crystal clear pools to swim in. It was quite enjoyable and a lovely way to spend the afternoon walking about in the lush scenery and splashing in the pools. Thank god for the map/directions that they gave me, though, as I might never have returned. There were a number of spots where the trail became quite questionable and I wandered aimlessly for a bit until I found some landmark or the other that was noted on the directions. A machete might have even been useful in a few spots. I don’t think the trail is used very often, which made it all the more lovely.

The next day, I joined the group up through the Sani Pass to Lesotho. It was quite the road. You really do actually have to have a 4x4 to make it there. Often roads said you needed them but if you drove slowly, you could get by. This road – no way! It took about an hour and a half to wrap our way up the switchbacks over the boulder strewn road and when we finally got there, we were all so jostled we could barely stand. At the top, we spent some time visiting a Lesotho village and seeing how these mostly nomadic people live. Basically we were at a small village/rest post type place where the traders, shepherds and traders stopped on their way up or down to Underberg. Huts were made of grass with grass and cow dung mixed floors (no, they didn’t smell). They were quite small but had a cozy warm feel to them. The lady who hosted us gave us some local beer to taste and some bread. The bread was fantastic but I can’t say that I would go back for another sip of the local beer. It was a weird yeasty, vinegary smelling concoction that was milky tan colored if that makes any sense at all. A German woman on the trip gave some kids balloons and it was great watching them play. She had to explain to them how to blow the balloons up and before you knew it, 10 kids were standing there in their blankets (that is what the Lesotho people wear as part of their clothing) blowing as hard as they could into these brightly colored plastic things. A number of them were quite successful. After we had lunch in the highest pub in Africa and watched the locals wander about and the clouds shift in and our covering the road down and then revealing the horror of it again.

Back down safely, I spent my last night at the Sani Lodge enjoying a home cooked meal (of my own doing) and talking to a Korean guy and British woman. The next day, I began the adventure back down the hill to the hostel in Pietermaritzburg where I would catch the Baz Bus to Durban. The ride down was much more pleasant as Murielle and I caught a lift with a local errand runner and it was just the two of us smashed together in the front seat on the trip down rather than us with a whole bus load of people and their bags. Had a bit of a layover when we got to town but managed to fill some time with internet, reading and just wandering about to see what Pietermaritzburg was all about. Nothing much really. I had one quite night in Durban and then was off the next morning to Cape Town for my final five and a half days.

Cape Town was lovely and I had expected that five days would be more than enough to see and do everything that I wanted to do (especially since I had already spent a few days there). In reality, I probably could have spent another three days wandering around. I didn’t scrape the surface of the museums available and only managed Robben Island and District Six museum. Neither of which was very uplifting in terms of what the blacks and coloreds (they are different) had to endure at the hands of the white South Africans. Robben Island is where all of the political prisoners (Nelson Mandela being the most famous) were kept and District Six is an area of Cape Town where the blacks and coloreds lived and which the whites decided they wanted. The blacks and coloreds were relocated to Townships outside of town that barely had facilities to support them. The land was never built on by the whites and still sits empty just outside of downtown. They have recently started initiatives to get the land back to the rightful owners, but as expected, this moves quite slowly. The rest of my time was spent chatting with other people at the hostel, looking for jobs in the wine industry, wandering around the city, going on hikes, checking out the beach areas and trying to get last minute souvenirs. Funny, that doesn’t sound like it should have taken up five days…guess I did do a lot of just walking and looking and enjoying the nice warm (and sometimes too hot) weather.

So now, I am in London at my lovely friend (and ex tent mate from Africa) Sus’ house. We are just outside of central London in an area called Dulwich. It is quite lovely and have everything you could need most importantly the local “spit and sawdust” pub (as Sus would call it). I am currently working on my next steps and will have to update you on that later as I have now filled four and a half pages in a word doc and don’t think I can write any more or have you read any more for that matter!
PS - several pics posted below (five I think).