Mamma Afrika

Epilogue

2009-10-13T15:13:00.003+01:00

I’ve been wrestling with this concept for the last few weeks. How should I conclude this epic journal? What can I say after such an experience that will match or even come close to buzzing over Victoria Falls in a Microlite? The serenity of an African sunset, or sunrise? The vast splendour of the savannah, mountains and open sky? The sheer psychotic rage of the river Nile? And what of the freedom of the road or living each day for just that day? The generosity and kindness of strangers? The insight and knowledge gained of oneself?

Priceless treasures, all of them.

I will admit freely that, like our family, we couldn’t choose our travel companions. But, like family, you learn how to deal with their idiosyncrasies, or rather do your best to. In that light I can say it wasn’t an easy trip, but it was an experience. A modern day adventure. There are a great many things I would have done differently, looking back now. But then, I wouldn’t have come out the other end with all the lessons I learnt and still benefit from daily. I learnt a great deal about what it means to be African, about acceptance, about communication and about being genuine. I think for both Annelie and I, we were humbled by these interactions; sometimes fleeting moments by the roadside, others for hours at the border posts or camps. There is so much potential in Africa it’s astounding! And her people are kind, open and down to earth.

Zimbabwe strikes me still as the one country being blacklisted because of the actions of a small band of criminals. Her people are just getting on with it and I genuinely feel that if you have an opportunity to go there, do so. You will not be disappointed. Uganda, for her raw and savage beauty. Winston Churchill wrote of Uganda as “The pearl of Africa”. I agree.

Since we’ve been back in so called “civilisation” we’ve had a difficult time relating to... well... anything. Or anyone. Strange as it may seem, we didn’t feel like we belonged in South Africa or London. Trying to catch up with old friends and family was hard, sometimes overwhelming. Nothing personal, of course. Just, we were still on the road, in essence. It took more than a few tears and encouragement between Annelie and I to get back into the flow of things and start rebuilding our lives here in the UK. You need to know where you are if you you want to know where you’re going? Quite like Alice in Wonderland, when asked by the Caterpillar “who are you?” we could only wring our hands and reply “I don’t hardly know”.

And this is where I have to mention, following on the “How should I conclude this epic journal?” train of thought, that had I posted this a few weeks ago it would have been a gloomy affair indeed! Heh heh heh, yeah, life was confusing, frustrating and downright upside down. We count ourselves fortunate that we’ve had such unprecedented support from our biological and chosen families! Whole apartments for our exclusive use, a living room sofa bed here, express delivery of all our kit we had in storage... it was just heart warming and extremely humbling. We managed to find a fantastic apartment, not far from where we lived previously and for the last two weeks we have been on a mission to make it our home.

Annelie has picked up the majority of her client base and there are very exciting prospects on the horizon. I’ve been digging into the photography (with Annelie’s help) and secured a few quick turnaround jobs to keep the debt collectors at bay. And just last week I secured a 6 month contract for a very well established blue-chip corporation, starting on Monday. Now all we need is furniture! :)

I’ve “burrowed” Paulo Coelho’s “The Alchemist” from a friend’s bookshelf the other day. It’s a fantastic parable about a boy who dreams of travelling the world, seeing extraordinary things and finding his treasure. It’s a short novel I’ve known about it for years but never before picked up. I still haven’t finished reading it yet... I’m kind of savouring it. It has been a fantastic reminder, a beacon of sorts for what it means to believe in yourself, follow your heart, be mindful of the signs, to enjoy life and be in the moment. It is so easy to get stuck in the little things, to blame others for your perceived misfortune and to begrudgingly accept your fate. So many times in the last month I’ve caught myself in the act and what could have been a deal breaker was turned into an opportunity. Even more amusing: it was easy! It’s just a simple matter of perspective.

So what’s my point?

Well, it is this: sometimes you need to do some shit that scares you. Climb out of your shell and leave you’re cushy comfort zone behind. It reaffirms who you are and puts your values and beliefs to the test. Puts your identity in the blender a bit. We feel, perhaps, that we let ourselves down a few times on this trip. But then again, did we? Win or lose we have the luxury of hindsight to see both sides of the situation and learn valuable things about ourselves. What’s more, we can soundboard moments off each other, since we have fully two perspectives of one situation. Powerful stuff.

I was quite adolescent when I thought that Africa would be all about the photography for me. I’d have yet another excuse to hide behind my lens and not interact with the world. Silly rabbit. Instead it turned out to be a perception changing, life enhancing masterpiece. A delicious slice of time captured in glorious detail in this journal! And now, after its completion, I intend to create a physical manifestation of it, in the form of a coffee table book, sprinkled liberally with photos and hand written observations. This is my gift to future Gerhard and Annelie, who may have the benefit of picking it up on a lazy Sunday afternoon and be instantly transported back in time.

So, to you, future Gerhard and Annelie: remember this. Remember your time under the stars and the epic adventure you had together. The smells, the sun, the rivers and valleys. The highs, the lows, the spirit of the road. The journey, which bolstered the powerful foundation you have built your relationship and now married life on.

Be true. Love. Enjoy. Remember this.

Makhtub.

[G & A], out

this is the end, beautiful friend, the end.

26 August, Day 74: "Home" stretch

2009-08-26T13:47:00.000+01:00

At the breakfast table we implore the waitress to NOT bring us any bacon or eggs! I know, I know, crazy right? But my word, we’ve both tired of that combination over the last week. So we’re quite easy this morning, sticking to the muesli and yo-gurt, fruit salads and coffee.

Checkout all done, back in the Bullet for today, our final drive of our tour. Quite sad, hey? I wasn’t so much sad as elated, I kinda get like that near the end of a long holiday.

As mentioned before, Matjiesfontein is only a few kilometres down the road and we make the left turn off the highway to the inconspicuous looking town.

Our first stop is at the train station, which has now been converted into a museum. A great many artefacts are stored in the glass cabinets and shelves, dating from the late 19^th century. One of the coolest exhibitions was in the preserved apothecary (that’s a chemist, kids...) where they had hundreds of really old, ooooold cameras! There was a weird clash of worlds, on my side I was standing with (to my mind) a state of the art professional, digital camera with all the trimmings versus a universe stuck in time; a hundred years worth of history and evolution to get to the point of what I was holding in my clammy paw.

Cool.

The town itself is really tiny, consisting of a short street lined with a handful of detached buildings, with the station/museum on the other side. Our next stop is to explore the set of detached buildings, and we find a coffee house, bar, old post office, the old Standard Bank of South Africa offices and the Lord Milner hotel. All of these buildings have been renovated and restored from about the 1970’s, some like the hotel maintaining their function whereas others like the coffee house used to be a general goods store. That’s actually Matjiesfontein’s original claim to fame: it was a refuelling and restocking outpost. Back in the days of the Kimberly diamond- and later gold rush in the 1800’s, the town was perfectly situated to offer both quality stocks and accommodation, both in high demand. This is technically the middle of nowhere, by most definitions. The Karoo, like I have noted many times before is wide open, mostly featureless and almost barren where it not for the few pieces of flora here and there. And the travel to these parts, you where rocking it with an ox wagon, or on foot.

Jimmy Logan was the man responsible for Matjiesfontein’s fortunes in the early days, having spotted the potential of the town. He started off as a porter in the railway at the age 15 and quickly rose to District Superintendent of the stretch of rail line between the Hex Rover and Prince Albert Road by his 21^st birthday. While still in railway employ, he was granted a concession at Touws River station, becoming lessee of the railway-owned Frere Hotel there in the same year. Within 12 months he had resigned from the service to devote time to his own affairs.

Another bonus of the Karoo is the dry, clear air, a big deal back in the days when all sorts of chest ailments where almost always fatal. So in 1883 he decided to move permanently to Matjiesfontein with his family, gaining another refreshment room concession there in 1884. Between the outbreak of the Boer war he developed the village into a delightful Victorian health and holiday resort, catering to Premiers, Governors and leading political figures of the day. Even Cecil John Rhodes was a regular patron (he suffered from ill health all his life).

The village was also used as a staging area during the Boer War, with 10 000 troops and 20 000 horses stationed on the outskirts and the hotel serving as a hospital for British officers; it’s central turret becoming a armed look-out post.

James Douglas Logan died in 1920, at 65 years of age. By the second World War, the town fell into obscurity and decay, but never lost its potential. The whole of it was bought by David Rawdon in 1968 and in 1970 the hotel was reopened as The Lord Milner. The rest of the village too has been restored and renovated into what we saw today, a living monument to a slice of history. Even in the bar, there was a guy dressed in period garb playing a few diddies on the piano (surprising to see, 11:00 in the morning. More surprising was that he wasn’t alone and the bar was full of patrons!).

So that’s it! A very educational little detour.

One last pit stop at the coffee shop for a cappuccino and a muffin before we head out again. We’ve been treated to some amazing sites during our two and a half month sojourn in all the countries but I can truly say that the Hex River valley can give every single one of those a run for their money. It’s almost spring now, so the vineyards are all bare but by no stretch of the imagination can I imagine what this must look like in the full bloom of summer. Deep valleys and rivers cut through imposing peaks, green and blue, littered with wine farms. It was utterly breathtaking. The snow capped mountains of the Cedarburg came into view next. I tried again to take a few decent pictures of it all but I’m not sure I can do it any justice.

So needless to say, it was a most pleasant drive. Not long before we arrive in Worcester and then on into the Du Toits Kloof pass, an equally stunning drive! I’ve mentioned it before but the same applies here: it’s quite weird to experience vertigo looking UP. But here it was again. Before long we dive into the tunnel and exit the other end into quite overcast and damp weather. Welcome home, it said.

The excitement is quite palpable by this stage as the signs go by: Cape Town – 75 ; Cape Town – 50 ; Cape Town – 40....

And so it was, at 13:51 that we finally rolled into Jacqueline Street, Annelie’s home, to greet her parents. I think they were quite pleased to see us :)

We spent the rest of the day chatting about this and that, after we unpacked the Bullet entirely (I am still amazed how much stuff we ferried along with us!) and eating way too much! In the evening we visited my parents for a quick howdy do, again eating and drinking way too much.

Our plans are pretty fluid for the next week or two. Lots of people to meet and greet and quite a few administration tasks to perform. I think mostly we’d like to spend some time with the family for a change, we always give them the short end of the stick when we are down this way.

And of course, I will need to sit down and get to all the pics I took, upload a few. And really think about how I’m going to end this piece! But all in good time :)

Highlights: Well, we’re home! And in one piece.

[G & A], out

we move like shadows

25 August, Day 73: one thousand twenty three

2009-08-25T13:40:00.000+01:00

We actually slept in a tad today, not really getting our 05:00 start we wanted. I kid of course, we were never going to get up at 05:00!! Andries sorts us some delicious breakfast of fried eggs, toast and left over steak chunks. Mmmmm, steeeeeaaak. It’s the new bacon.

Quick shower, pack up and ready to go by 10:30 and we say our goodbyes and good luck’s. In no time flat we are back on the N1 and grinding away at the last bit of asphalt home, a grand total of 1023 KM’s to go!

We make pretty good progress before reaching our 1^st road works stop. “10 minutes wait”, says the man. Said man returns 10 minutes later to inform us that there has been an accident in the stretch ahead, so we can expect some minor delays. Much later, and after catching up with two Mythbusters episodes on my laptop, I make a call that we double back and try to get onto one of the dust roads running parallel with the N1.

Easy does it, best dirt road we’ve ever seen. :) It snakes through the koppies this way and that, mostly running next to the train tracks and national road off the right so we know we’re heading the right direction. We don’t have GPS, so it’s terribly old skool navigation. A few cars coming the other direction can at least verify where we will end up and we trade directions (since they want to go the other way). Not long before more people catch on to the alternative road and more cars fill the narrow bypass.

Finally, we rejoin the N1 and my goodness, it doesn’t look any better on this side either! Cars, trucks and trailers backed up for kilometres. We make a quick stop at a block in the road where people have climbed out of their cars and I relay the terrible news: you’re gonna be here a while. But I’m a bad news / good news kinda guy and offer them the “secret” route around the carnage. I later found out a truck and a 4x4 bakkie had a serious collision, hence the fire trucks and no doubt jaws-of-life operation that had to take place.

We push on, but it is now increasingly likely that we will not be making it all the way home today. This sentiment is somewhat lightened when we seem to again be making really good time and dashed equally as we get stuck behind yet another few sets of successive road blocks. We’re lucky that they at least stick to the plus-minus 10 minute wait time.

By the late afternoon we roll into Three Sisters, aptly named for the three tall (for this area) free standing mountains. It gets progressively dark by the time we get close to Laingsburg and even though we are in striking distance to Cape Town we make decide that it would be so stupid to rush home now. By our ETA we would only arrive by something dumb like 11 o’clock, and what’s the point in that??

Laingsburg isn’t the largest town I’ve ever seen, but that have 3 decent looking inns / hotels and we’re ready to have a serious sit down dinner for a change, having only had Provita bisquits and cheese (the same cheese we bought way way back in Kenya! Still... delicious!).

The Laings Inn happens to have one double bedroom available and we snatch it up, unpack our sleep over gear and head out to one of 3 dining options at the Cafe Hart Hotel. The other options where Steers and the Wimpy at the petrol station as you drive into town. Heh heh, small town indeed.

The Cafe Hart seems to have quite a rich family history and is quite cosy on this cold evening. The bar is quite buzzing when we arrive. An extensive menu covers all the basic food groups, of meat, meat, fish, and meat. We order the ribs with chips and wash it down with whatever the house red was.

Even before dinner is done I could feel a very real weariness creeping into me and I mention that I am really glad we didn’t push through like lunatics.

Tomorrow we will take our time and pay a visit to Matjiesfontein, only 15 kilometres down the road.

Back at the inn, we settle into the big double bed, have a quick night cap and doze off.

Highlights: Feeling very homesick man, very pleased we’re almost home.

[G & A], out

ya’ll know the lyrics, com’on and sing with me!

24 August, Day 72: a large ditch

2009-08-24T13:15:00.000+01:00

I had to employ some help from the inn manager to jump start the Bullet again, using his very tiny VW Polo 1.3 litre toy. We make a quick stop at Anneke’s but they’re still snoozing. On to the battery store then. R860 later I’m in business with a sparkling new Willard battery, after waiting 20 minutes for the owner of the Sabat battery store to go fetch me a real battery. I love how business is so slow a shop will even sell you a competitors brand! :)

Off to the video store with internet access and I FINALLY get a chance to upload all the journal entries I’ve been hoarding on my laptop! Excellent.

Back to Anneke’s to say goodbye to her and the little one. To kill some time before we head out to Bloemfontein we decided to take in the tourist attractions, namely the big hole.

For those of you who don’t know, this is where the South African diamond mining industry got its start back in the 19^th century. The area played host to a few very influential characters such as Cecil John Rhodes and Barney Bernato, the forefathers of what would eventually become consolidated into De Beers, the world’s biggest diamond company. The “big hole” is quite literally a massive hole in the ground where the blue kimberlite vein was discovered and mined. During the 1^st world war mining was ceased since there was no demand, the same happened again during the second world war. Eventually the entire hole flooded with water and became a very large tourist attraction instead. Kimberly is also where the De Beers head office is, where ALL diamonds mined in the country (and around the world, If I’m not mistaken) are brought to be redistributed, to ensure that the sources are credible and that no conflict diamonds are dealt in.

Personally, I’m not a diamond fan at all. I think it’s the greatest marketing exercise in history. But that’s an entirely different discussion...

So we went on the tour and it was quite cool to see how they lived in those times. There is a big time line in the museum that shows the flow of history of both the world and the region. There is a “underground experience” (no, not a rave club) where you get to go into a recreated mine shaft and see what it was like. Next, we were allowed into a guarded vault with loads of different types of diamonds and replicas of the first diamond discovery here, called Eureka on the banks of the Orange river and the largest uncut diamond ever discovered.

Outside, they’ve restored the surrounding town and preserved it the way it looked back in the 19^th and start of the 20^th centuries. Spooky. No really, it’s exactly like a ghost town. Shops selling shoes or clothes, barbers, bars, wagon dealerships, auctioneers etc etc. Barney Bernato’s boxing academy (he was quite a sportsman and actor too), dental surgery, doctors office, banks, reading rooms, billiard rooms and so on can also be explored. The only “house” that you can enter is that of where all De Beers chairmen lived over the years. Pretty cool, a snapshot of time.

All done by 15:00 and we eventually find our way to the N8 that would take us to Bloem. We’re visiting a friend whose studying architecture there. I figured since we’re practically in the neighbourhood wit would be a shame not to.

It still amazes me how in this part of the world, the nothing stretches for miles and miles, as far as the eye can see and the only thing breaking the great open plains are a few koppies (mountains, little ones) dotted here and there. By about 16:20 we make contact with Andries and he guides us to a Shell garage where we can meet up, which is great since we need to refuel again (the Bullet is THIRSTY). Soon after we’re done filling up he arrives and we say a few hearty hellos. He takes us up to the house he is sharing with another fellow student and friend. The house is freakin huge!! Like, impossibly huge, nestled in a very upper class neighbourhood. We get settled into one of the rooms, grab a few beers and head up to Naval hill, a lookout point where you can check out the whole town.

On the hill we chat a bit about our adventures and he fills us in on his comings and goings. Next we’re treated to a quick tour of the town, the university he studies at, the Chief Justice of the Courts of South Africa’s MANSION (very well guarded, ring fenced and what not) and the local hovels and hangouts, including what is described as “the very,very-bitter-end-bar”, i.e. they’ll still serve you alcohol 07:00 in the morning. Good times.

One the way back to the house we stop at “the Braai shop”. Droooool! What a great concept, it’s a one stop shop for every damn thing you can imagine for a good braai: excellent steaks and meats, sauces, implements, fuel for the fire, biltong... you name it. The guy behind the counter even suggested that for a price he’ll even sell us beer! Awesome! I recommended he franchise the idea immediately, London needs a “Braai shop”.

Good meat in hand, we head back and stoke up a good ol’ wood fire. More mates and fellow budding architects arrive to join in and they’re really cool dudes (and one dudette). We chat about all sorts of stuff, drink too much brannewyn and coke and eat like kings. I learned a few new tricks from Mattie (who happen to have had quite a few Famous Butcher Grills!) on the art of braaing a killer steak and Annelie reckoned it’s the best she’s ever had.

Anecdote: Damn I’m good.

We have to call it a night just before 00:00, since we kind of intend on nailing the last 1023 km’s to Cape Town tomorrow. Of course we will play it by ear, maybe stop halfway or whatever. But if I can help it, I’d really like to reach that checkpoint.

Highlights: Really cool catching up with Andries again! Good guy...

Good steak, enough to kill a donkey

[G & A], out

gimme the mic while i take it away

Sorry for the spam

2009-08-24T09:55:00.000+01:00

It’s a fact of life that internet access is quite hard to track down here in Africa. Even worse is a situation where you DO have a smidgen of internet access but cannot get anything to work on it, or it keeps timing out and so forth.

Point is, It would have been soooo cool to be able to post things on the fly! Good news is that we are almost home in Cape Town where I will be able to finally upload more pictures (you HAVE to see the little elephants!) and finish up the journal.

Until then...

[G], out

23 August, Day 71: to Kimberley

2009-08-23T13:14:00.000+01:00

In the morning we finished up on breakfast, retrieved the washing from the line and packed up the Bullet. It was dead again, very dead. While looking at the caked dirt that’s accumulated on the top of the battery something occurred to me, just then: when was the last time we checked the battery water? After cleaning off the dirt, using a R2 coin, I started to unscrew the wells one by one. Sure enough, four of the 6 wells where bone dry.

...

Well I’ll be. This is basic stuff man, very basic. I cannot believe we ALL missed it. Too late now, this battery is probably toast by now. I grab some distilled water and will the cells up again just for in case, you never know your luck in the big city. After another jump start we’re back in business. We say our thanks and goodbye, load up the food and baked pie we need to take along for Annelie’s cousin and head out to Kimberley. It’s a short drive so we reach Kimberley, about an hour and a bit. The directions to her cousin’s house is as straightforward and we meet up with them there. I’m introduced to Anneke and her boyfriend Brendon, proud parents of a very tiny and ridiculously cute baby girl, Danika. Oohs and aahs abound (mostly from Annelie).

While Annelie and Anneke catch up, Brendon and I chat about this and that. There is an inn quite close by so after another running start we finally manage to push all 3 tons worth of 4x4 down the road fast enough to get it going (this is getting old. Fast). Check in at the Bella Vista Inn (I leave the car running) and get back to the cousins place. The rest of the day we generally spent outside in the sun, occasionally if I was inside I’d be chased outside for “the feeding” of Danika.

In the evening we head out to grab some take-aways (Steers Burgers... delicious!) and call it a night.

Tomorrow I’m going to get this car battery sorted out!

Highlights: uh... BACON!

[G & A], out

right about now, the phunk soul brotha

22 August, Day 70: me time

2009-08-22T09:46:00.000+01:00

Didn’t do much today, just as planned. I had quite a few interesting discussions in between my admin. Annelie and her aunt spent the day chatting. I caught up on a few episodes of American Dad I had on my travel hard drive. Watched some Tri Nations rugby, Australia vs. NZ, NZ won (good times. Take THAT Australia!).

In the evening we took our hosts out for dinner at the Red Sands lodge. I risk ordering the special: ox tail stew. Rubbish, absolutely inedible. It was tougher and rubbery and nowhere near what grandma used to make. The rice was good though, whatever, and the other’s had a good meal so that’s ok.

Anecdote: I place quite a high standard on ox tail stew.

Back home after Dom Pedro’s and coffee’s and into bed (dang it’s cold in these parts at night)

Highlights: Watching some Tri Nations rugby

Getting my proverbial house back in order, somewhat

[G & A], out

Really don’t mind to practice cus you’re my li’l lady

21 August, Day 69: Kuruman

2009-08-21T09:46:00.000+01:00

Another blockbuster break-fest (no moose though, to my utter disappointment). Before we check out we head back to the Valley of Waves because Annelie wants to go on the bungee jump trampoline thingy. Yeah, you have to be “this” tall to go on this ride, at least 7 years old (which she just barely qualifies) and weigh no more that 54 kg’s (which she also just barely qualifies)

Anecdote: I kid, of course. She’s way older than 7

Anecdote: and way lighter than 54 k’s

Anecdote: I love you baby, please don’t hurt me.

The jumping thing is a big hit: they tie you to a harness, suspended from two sides by bungee cords. Next they lift you about 3 meters into the air then a dude on the trampoline underneath you jumps up, grabs hold and pulls you down before letting go. And my homeboy Newton got it right about every action having an equal and opposite reaction, perfectly demonstrated as Annelie goes soaring! Giggles and screams in equal measure. She really is just a kid sometimes, but I love that about her.

This goes on for about 15 minutes, she manages to pull a few sweet back flips before being lowered back down and letting the other kids waiting in line a turn. All done, we head back to the Cabanas to finalise our bill. Back at the Bullet and yea. Battery dead. I give it a slight nudge out of the parking bay and Annelie guides it down the hill before effortlessly popping the clutch and starting it. All good to go, we set our biological GPS’s for Kuruman, about 350 km’s to Annelie’s aunt. First we’re making a stop in Koster to see her cousin, who will give us better directions. We only manage to reach Koster at 13:00 so it has to be a quick reunion. She guides us to the road we need to take from there and we say goodbye. Quick pitstop in Biesiesvlei for refuel and biobreak.

The rest of the day we make pretty good progress as we go, but there are road works on this route so quite a few long wait times at road blocks, to allow other traffic through. Heh heh, funny town names in these parts: Witpan, Vlakpan, Greysloot, Beeskraal, Paardekraal, Jan se Baard, fok, you name it. The scenery is very pleasing, this is wide open farm country, although it doesn’t look like a whole lot is going on. By about 18:00 or so we enter Kuruman and follow the directions to her aunt’s house.

We’ll be staying here for 2 nights since Annelie wants to have a good chat about things and catch up. Me, well, I have lots of admin to do again, like updating the journal, writing some DVD’s and the like.

Highlights: Breakfast again!

Taking pictures of a very airborne Annelie

Care should be taken to avoid tipping while seated

20 August, Day 68: Just the 2 of us

2009-08-20T09:45:00.000+01:00

I’ve never seen so much food in my life! Breakfast is an orgy of everything you could ever desire to eat. Ok fine, they didn’t have baby seal (which is both tender and tasty) and dolphin was off the menu today, but everything else was here. From every conceivable cereal, to flapjacks, cold meats, fruits, cheeses, breads breads breads, French toast, eggs made a zillion ways, juices, pastries... I was in heaven.

We started slow like and worked our way up, put some real effort into it, you know? By the time the shooting stopped I must have packed on 3 Kg’s. Back at the room Mattie finished packing while we headed to the car. Heh, yeah. Battery dead. While Mattie brings his luggage I grab the spare keys for the Ford from the cubby and park it next to the Bullet, get the jumper cables out at proceed to refresh Annelie on the finer points of jump starting a car. That done, we decide to park the car on a hill so that we can at least running start the thing tomorrow, when Mattie isn’t around anymore. Else, whatever, we can always get a jump from anyone.

Mattie drops us off at the entertainment centre and we say our goodbyes and farewells! Then, it was just the two of us, free to do as we please! So we hit the games arcade pretty hard, playing EVERY video game in there. Turns out Annelie really, really likes Dance Dance revolution, too bad the machine was busted so it wouldn’t register the “back” steps on player 1 and the “front” step on player 2. But we laughed our asses off anyway. Then she realised that you get tickets for some of these games, and that you can trade these in for prizes. Groan... the prizes are all rubbish but try explaining that to a 7 year old (yes, I mean Annelie). More games and 60 tickets later she got the little plastic rubix cube key holder she simply had to have.

Next, we headed to the valley of waves. Good thing we took the trouble to do the bridge “thing” yesterday, because it’s down for maintenance. The Valley of Waves has this whole theme cantered around the Lost City, so everything looks like an Indiana Jones film set, Temple of Doom / Mayan / Tomb raider-esq. Quite well done, in my humble opinion. The water park features a big wave pool and artificial tropical beach, 5 water slides, a “lazy river” chill... thing... and shops, rentals and the like. On the Cabanas side, where we live, they have a dam where you can do waterskiing, jet-skis, parachute sailing (or whatever the heck it’s called).

Anyway, we decide to hit the big slide first (I forget the name, but they each have one like Tarantula, Viper, Mamba and so on). I wait at the bottom to snap pictures as she comes crashing down the 10 meter sheer drop, eventually coming to a standstill as the water breaks her momentum. Water gets in everywhere.... trust me on that one. I follow suit, because I’d have to show solidarity. Fak me, the water is freezing! It’s sunny out, but not warm by any means. We decide to stow the camera and gear in the rental lockers and hit the inner tube slides next. At the bottom you pick up a blue inflatable tube, carry it up the steps to the top and them slide down either an open or a totally enclosed water slide. I get SUPER motion sick on the closed one, since it turns me around and around and around... bleh. We do the other one as well, before we move on the last 2, which are just straight water slides.

The Mamba (I remember this one) is the enclosed one, and it takes 10 seconds to drop 15 meters! By the time I reach the bottom of this one, I am done for the day, vision swimming. This used to be a whole lot easier when we were kids!

Annelie goes down the last slide, so now at least she’s been on everything and we can go reheat in the sun on the beach. It takes me a while to get back to normal, a Savannah goes down well and helps things on a bit.

By the afternoon we mosey on up to the entertainment centre again and kill off the last few tokens I had left on a racing game or three. I try to convince my darling wife that I HAVE to see Transformers: Rise of the Decepticons but I fail. She promises me that should we have a chance in any of the other towns we’ll be passing through on the way home, we can see it together.

Dinner is at Santorini again, because at least we know what we’re in for. I have some delicious ribs, and Annelie had a calamari salad. Back to the hotel again and back to bed.

Today was a really good day for us and we got to spend some real quality time together. It actually felt like a solid holiday. Looking very much forward to breakfast again tomorrow. Ima gonna order a moose burger!

Highlights: Quality time, baby, quality time

Breakfast man, breakfast!

*drum roll, cymbal, cymbal, cymbal, hi-hat-hi-hat-hi-hat*

19 August, Day 67: Sun City --- CHECK LINK!!!

2009-08-19T09:45:00.000+01:00

Wowie, spent the whole morning in the Hydro centre! About 2 hours in the indoor / outdoor pool, water temperatures ranging from 25 degrees up to 40, big fountain in the middle. Pruned up real good! After we had enough of that we signed up for a full body massage with an “Aroma therapy booster” (clearly this IS an American run resort...). By 11 am we were practically floating on air. Annelie is quite fine this morning, by the way. She does still get the odd hot flash but we don’t really know what was wrong with her. Maybe she ate something funky. I’m also quite aware that sometimes with all the driving and concentration, it can get quite hard on you if you don’t eat enough or don’t drink enough water. I suspect maybe a piece of that hake fillet we had at the Inn on Great Zim may have been a bit off or something. I had a similar thing way back in Arusha, when the others were on the Serengeti tour. Heh, but it’s such a cliché: Oh shit, you feel bad, must be malaria! Meh.

We spend a bit of time retracing our steps after we checkout of the chalet, because Mattie left one of the flaps of his canopy open and his sleeping bag rolled out.... somewhere. Unfortunately it’s nowhere to be seen, so we leave our contact details at reception in the unlikely event someone turns it in. Mattie is gutted, not because he needs it anymore but it has quite a bit of sentimental value, a sentiment I can totally relate to. Weird huh? Tours the whole damn continent with it only to lose it now! I try to cheer him up over the CB as we head out to Sun City.

We only need to go 150 km’s since we’re taking a short cut over some less than stellar roads. Slightly after noon we arrive at the Cabanas, one of the 3 hotels at the resort, and book in. The resort is nestled in the valley between the Pilantsburg and features more activities and attractions than I can shake a stick at. Check it out.

Mattie and I have been here a few times before, my last visit was in 2001 for a Microsoft Technet conference. Aaaah, good times! This is Annelie’s first time so we give her the guided tour of the main hotel, casinos, entertainment areas and the Valley of Waves (big water park). Sun City used to be quite a big deal back in the day, because it was the only spot in South Africa where you could come to gamble. A lot has changed since, they built the Palace of the Lost city and the Valley of Waves for one. For me and Mattie it was interesting to see that it’s still quite a busy place, most of the hotels are fully booked and loads of conferences happening. The only thing I’d comment on is that a few cracks are showing up here and there, little things, little things. Annelie didn’t care much though, it was all new to her! We even had to wait on the connecting bridge to the valley, because we mentioned to her that the whole thing vibrates and shudders and smoke comes out everywhere on the on the hour, like a clock. So we stood on the bridge for a whole 30 minutes... She enjoyed it, so I guess that’s ok :) She regresses to a 7 year old around this kind of stuff. That, and various fluffy or cute (sometime deadly) animals. Examples include: puppies, kittens, babies, LARGE dogs, hippos, rhinos, elephants, etc etc etc.

Turns out you actually have to pay to see the Palace of the Lost City, Sun City’s premier hotel. Huh, that sucks. Annelie convinces the one gaurd that she really needs the toilet and they let her in. Then the other guard tries to solicit a bribe for us to get in too! Impossible for him to know that I am now a seasoned pro and this sort of thing, but instead of getting some money out of me he only succeeds in evoking my wrath. I only wanted Annelie to see it, and a good time later she returns all smiles. I ask her if she at least got to see the rest of it and she was like “jup, no problem, saw the whole lobby, dining room, everything!”. That’s my girl.

The weather is quite nippy, only about 17 degrees and a slight breeze, but hopefully we’ll be able to get good weather tomorrow. I’d like to at least get Annelie on the monster water slides they have here! But you can check out Sun City and what they have to offer here. Personally, I think the hotels are a little on the expensive side. If you have kids though, I reckon they’d totally dig it here.

In the evening we had a wonderful meal at Santorini, a restaurant at the Cascades hotel. This is our last evening with Mattie before he heads off tomorrow, so we made it count with lots of whiskey, wine and cocktails! It was also very cool just to spend time with him and him alone just because you get to know someone just a bit better that way. We had quite a few very interesting discussions about the tour and what’s next (Mozambique! Cairo! Madagascar! Ok, maybe only next year...).

It was very cold tonight! We must be acclimatised to the tropics by now, Not used to this type of cold anymore. We “walk” to our hotel anyways, through weird jungle paths with bridges and waterfalls, past the golf course bar and around the corner to our rooms.

Highlights: Well, it’s good to be here at Sun City. Lots of memories flooding back (the parts I remember between the hard drinking and parties of the “conference”). Also miss my 20twenty buddies something chronic

[G & A], out

going over to susan’s house, she’s gonna make it right

18 August, Day 66: Great house of stone

2009-08-18T09:45:00.000+01:00

As planned, we’re up and going by 07:20 after a quick coffee and heading down the 10km to the ruins. At the gate we buy tickets ($15 each) and park the cars. It’s a very cold, crisp but sunny morning, no clouds in the sky. At the entrance there is a large map of the area which I snap a pic of for reference. Our first visit is to what they call the “Great Enclosure”, which we locate at the top of a hill.

I’m going to shamelessly plagiarise Encarta on this one, just because they’ve put it so succulently, and I couldn’t take any pictures in the museum we visited later (but it was REALLY interesting!):

In the 19th century the ruins of Great Zimbabwe were found and studied by European colonists, who generally refused to believe that black Africans could have built such impressive stone structures. European archaeologists proposed highly improbable theories that an ancient Mediterranean civilization, such as the Egyptians, Phoenicians, Greeks, Hebrews, or Arabs, built Great Zimbabwe. These theories became widely accepted. Even after early and mid-20th-century archaeological research proved that Great Zimbabwe was indeed the work of Iron Age black Africans, the non-African origin of the ruins was taught in many schools in Rhodesia (as Zimbabwe was known in colonial times) until independence in 1980.

The stonework of Great Zimbabwe is remarkable for its precision. Most structures were built with granite blocks so carefully carved that no mortar was required to hold them together. The focal point of Great Zimbabwe is a high granite outcrop that rises steeply above the valley below. On the summit of this outcrop is a set of stone-walled enclosures known as the Hill Complex. Scholars believe one of the two large enclosures was a place of worship because it contains plastered altars and carved stone birds, which likely represent the spirits of former rulers. The other large enclosure was a residential area, probably either for the king or for the principal spirit medium, the leading official in the Shona religion.

The ruins of the city of Great Zimbabwe are on the hillside and in the valley beneath the Hill Complex. The city consisted of two parts: the residences of the general population and those of the elite. The general population lived in closely packed mud-and-thatch houses and little is known about the way they lived. A small number of elite people lived inside stone enclosures at the centre of the city. The sheltered residential areas were hidden by high stone walls. These living quarters testify to the high status and authority of the Great Zimbabwe ruling class.

The largest of the residential enclosures in the city is known as the Great Enclosure. The Great Enclosure has a complex set of architectural features, including outer walls as high as 10 m (32 ft) and as thick as 5 m (17 ft), and a tall, conical stone tower. Archaeologists have different interpretations of this part of the site. Some believe this was the residence of the king’s principal wife, while others argue that it was the king’s compound. In the Great Enclosure, archaeologists have discovered gold and copper ornaments, as well as fine soapstone bowls and carvings. In addition, they have found china, glass beads, and porcelain dating from 14th-century China, Persia, and Syria. The presence of such luxury items from so far away demonstrates Great Zimbabwe’s valuable connections with traders on the east coast of Africa.

The modern nation of Zimbabwe is named after Great Zimbabwe, and images of the soapstone birds found in the Hill Complex appear on the nation’s flag and currency. For today’s Zimbabweans, the ruins of Great Zimbabwe are a source not only of tourism income, but also of cultural pride.

Anecdote: as said above, the country got its name from the Great Zimbabwe ruins in 1980, changing from Rodesia to Zimbabwe. Zimbabwe is derived from the Shona phrase dzimba dza mabwe, which means “houses of stone”. There are many such dwellings (Zimbabwe’s) scattered all over the country, but this location at Masvingo is the largest and was the tribe’s capital city, hence the “Great” distinction.

Great Zimbabwe had between 10,000 and 20,000 inhabitants shortly before its abrupt decline at the end of 15th century. Historians disagree on the cause of Great Zimbabwe’s fall. Many scholars believe that the city’s population grew so large that it used up the region’s agricultural resources, forcing inhabitants to move away. Another theory is that Great Zimbabwe lost its commercial importance because northern gold-mining regions began transporting gold to the coast by way of the Zambezi River. By the 16th century the city of Great Zimbabwe was almost completely deserted.

Pretty cool, huh?

Back to the inn, pack up and checkout. Heading to Beitbridge today, and our last border crossing of the trip (yay!).On the way we stop at a large road side market where various artists again succeed in blowing us away with their skill. I decide, fuckit, I wanna buy some stuff, if nothing else to support these folks. Mattie picks up a few bowls and a candle holder. A 20 KG solid stone rhino catches my eye and I simply have to have it! No bartering with these folks, if they say it’s $40, it’s $40, done deal! I hold the beast aloft and cry “rhino!!” which evokes cries of rhino from the lady I bought it from. Funny thing happened then: they broke into a little victory dance and celebration amongst themselves, other traders coming over to congratulate her on making the sale! I think this was the definitive moment that the Zimbabwe people finally captured my heart.

Some rearranging required to fit Shida (She-da, named after that big black rhino who’s ears I scratched in Kenya) into the Bullet, but we manage it.

One or two pit stops on our way, Annelie wasn’t feeling too well again, phasing between nausea and hot flashes to shivers and cold sweats. Eish.

Driving quite hard we manage to reach the border post by 14:ish. We get the same old run around, a little self inflicted because we forgot to pay the toll fees and get some forms stamped. But we manage it with our usually flair, didn’t have to bribe anyone this time so that's always a plus. And so, by 15:10, it’s bye bye Zimbabwe!

Over to the South African border, across the Beitbridge over the Limpopo. Annelie feeling just a tad bit worse, so we make a naissance of ourselves in jump the line, play the “I’m dumb” card and get our passports stamps and customs cleared in no time flat.

Hello, sweet Sunny South Africa!

Stop off at the Caltex for a refuel and checkups. Our next destination is still quite far, Bela Bela, about 300 Km’s to go. We deal with the chaos of driving through busy traffic and towns the best we can. Both Mattie and I confess that we’re so not used to these driving conditions anymore, i.e. having to obey traffic laws! It’s much harder than you think, if you’ve driven in the lawless bubble of Africa for over 2 months. Mattie does get pulled over for speeding and manages to get away with a warning. Suave charmer :)

Break our rule again about driving in the dark but that’s ok, at least the roads are good, albeit unpainted in some areas. Lots of toll gates too. We reach Bela Bela just after 18:00 and drive around town a bit looking for a spot to lodge. Heh, I felt just like a farm yokel coming to the big city for the first time. All neon lights and restaurants and civilisation! The Forever resort looks the most promising and we check in. The whole town is built around a natural hot spring, by the way. So all these lodges and inn have some form of hydro or warm baths, Forever resorts have MASSIVE facilities, inside and outside pools, quad bikes, water sports, medical centres, you name it, it’s here.

Mattie goes ahead to the chalet while I drive Annelie to St Vincent’s Hospital a few km’s down the road. She has a chat to the nurse there about the possibility of having a test done for malaria. They reckon they can only do it if she’s running a fever, lest they get a false negative. So we agree to monitor the situation and come back should her condition worsen.

Back at the resort, we meet up with Mattie at the onsite Spur grill and restaurant (Spur is a freakin institution in South Africa! Been eating Spur burgers since I was 6 years old.) and I order the biggest damn Hunger Buster Double patty flame grilled monster I can buy! Delicious.

We have a quick look around before heading back to the chalet, which is very spacious and beautifully furnished. Annelie still feels rubbish but not running a fever yet. We’ll monitor her and hope for the best. Tomorrow we’d like to go take a prolonged dip in the hydro pools and maybe even get a massage.

Highlights: Nothing beats being back home

Scoffing down a Spur burger!

Someone to covet, safe from the rain

17 August, Day 65: Mythbusters

2009-08-17T09:45:00.000+01:00

First things first: Happy Birthday Mattie! True, it’s the big guy’s birthday today, and we start the congratulations early, 05:10, since we are all up and having coffee already. I’m genuinely surprised he made it to his birthday, considering all his been through! :)

Anyways, it’s dark out still and the stars are just about fading. Last rites, as we finish our quick breakfast. Pack up all the loose items into the Bullet, jump start the Bullet first since the battery is D.O.A. Say our goodbyes to Jenny and thank her heartily for her hospitality. Say goodbye to Fanie and Hanneliese and wish them the very best of luck.

The Bullet, Ford and Toyota blaze off into the sunrise, over green mountain passes and through valleys. We sneak a last peak at the very large Lake Kariba just as the sun rises. Not long before we reach a main road and start making our way south-east. On the way we stop at a little market where Mattie buys the most beautiful little John Deere tractor toy, with a trailer and everything! So well made; it’s for his neighbours son.

Around this time we say goodbye to Dirk and Marieke and wish them well. We head on to Harare and arrive in the city proper at around 09:30, passing a few other towns along the way.

And we are genuinely surprised: the city is beautiful! Wide, clean streets, lots of business being done, people coming and going, traffic organised, a police man or woman on EVERY corner (really), tall breathtaking buildings towering into the sky line.

This is the part where we’re a bit confused. We heard all sorts of horror stories about this place, about how your tires get slashed at traffic lights and how armed gangs roam the streets, just crazy-madness and we should miss the city completely. I can confess that it’s NOTHING like that, AT ALL! The people standing at the bus stops, or waiting to cross the road hardly look like they’re fearing for their lives or looking out for an attack at any given moment.

It’s very sad that this place has such a bad rap. I will say that sure, Mugabe and his cronies are terribly out of order, but it’s not a reflection at all of its people. My experience of Zimbabwe thus far is that it’s people are extremely friendly, saying hi to you everywhere you go (as in, just saying “hello” for the hell of it, and not because they want something from you), the cities clean and safe and the infrastructure well established. And clearly, businesses where doing quite well, thank you. Goes to show, once again, if you believe the travel advisories or main stream new media, heck, even pay any attention to peoples negativity you’ll never do anything or go anywhere. I feel lucky that I could have the opportunity to see it with my own eyes and form my own opinion.

Onward to the airport, which we also find to be in terribly good shape and thriving. We’re way early for Marietta’s flight, partly because we weren’t sure what the state of the roads will be like (perfectly fine, NO POTHOLES) or what dangers we’ll have to face in the city (NONE!) or what state of chaos the airport will be in (ZERO, NADA, fokol!) so we have a quick brunch while we wait for boarding. Just before noon we say goodbye to Marietta and off she goes.

We head out to Masvingo, where the Great Zimbabwe ruins are. The road is very scenic, we drive through many farmlands. It’s only here that we are given the grim reminder of how destructive the Mugabe regimes policies where: large fertile swaths of land untended, derelict farm equipment and irrigation systems just standing in fields, butchered for parts and scrap metal. It’s an interesting feeling, if you didn’t know the country’s history you’d be inspired by the beautiful scene of golden fields of tall growing grass, roads lined with green trees and rolling hills. But of course, we know that we should be looking at endless greenery of various farmlands in full swing. Sad, but again, I feel very confident the good people of Zim will persevere and win out over the bullshit they’ve been subjected to.

It’s quite late when we arrive at the Inn on the Great Zimbabwe. We book into one of the chalets, which is very spacious and a steal at $25 per person. The chalet is self catering, bit lounge and kitchen area, 3 very big rooms, massive bathroom and the estate has well tended gardens, all perched on a hill top overlooking lake Mutirikwi. Annelie catches some shut eye while Mattie and I chat a bit about business, properties and all sorts. He’s given me quite a few interesting ideas for my next round of investments, which I will look into once I’m back in Cape Town.

Dinner is hake fillet and chips in the posh restaurant (no shorts, no slops). We agree to get going by 07:00 tomorrow to explore the Great Zimbabwe ruins, a world heritage site. The location was inhabited by the Shona tribe, who lived in the area around 1200 – 1500 A.D. Should be good.

Highlights: Shifting paradigms without a clutch

Seeing Zim for myself, thank you very much

[G & A], out

Echoes, silence, patience and grace

16 August, Day 64: land lubbers again

2009-08-16T09:45:00.000+01:00

Today we’re heading back to Jenny’s place. We’ve reached the end of our journey on the lake but as a recourse for the delayed start we can at least spend more time on board. We manage to squeeze in one last swim and lunch before we reach. Bryan cooked up the last bit of food we have, some lamb cubes, into a very tasty stew which we enjoy with leftover rice.

Around 17:00 we dock back at Jenny’s harbour and begin the arduous task of unloading both ourselves and our gear. Quick photo-op with the crew and we say our thank you’s and goodbyes. Everything is trekked back up to the house and Annelie and I get to repacking slightly so that we can re-arrange the Bullet for the last leg of our journey. Tomorrow we will be heading into Harare, Zimbabwe’s capital city and then through to the airport to drop Marietta off. We’ll also be saying our final farewells to Fanie, Hannelise, Dirk and Marieke, since Fanie will be catching a lift to Lusaka to pick up the Colt, (which they managed to fix up at Moonia’s Uber-Workshoppe, for the low-low price of R16 000! But they couldn’t drive it to the rendezvous point, because, doh!, he forgot to hand them the Carnet for the vehicle. So when they’re stopped (and they WILL be stopped) the cops will think the car stolen. Not a biggie, just a little inconvenient since they have to travel back into Zambia.

Dirk and Marieke will be heading straight on to the border at Beitbridge, and then on to family and friends. So it will be Mattie, myself and Annelie travelling together to South Africa, then hit a day or two in Sun City (very nice resort in SA) after which Mattie too will be going his own way, leaving us the Bullet to drive home.

Tonight though we have a last chance to reminisce about good times, bad times and just plain awesome times!

I’d drink to that.

Highlights: Hard to say. Guess I’m looking forward to getting back home, but it’s a bittersweet since it means the tour is almost over.

[G & A], out

Papa was a gamblin’ man

15 August, Day 63: "futile", triple word score

2009-08-15T09:45:00.000+01:00

More of the same, just chilled on the boat as we cast off to Changa Cherere, more drinking and reading, playing cards or sleeping. I got roped into playing scrabble with the wife and quit about an hour later when all I could manage was crappy-crap-crap words like “go”, “bee”, “noize” (not a word, can you believe it??), “damn” and so on. I mean, come on, I had no less than 3 sets of “i”, one “z”, one “x” (!!) and a “q”. She on the other hand rocked out with classics like “serendipity”, “golden” and “repugnant”. It was quite fitting that the last word she made right after I quit was “futile”. Futile indeed... and stupid... scrabble sucks.

Another sunset booze cruise, this time the sky was the same colour of the water creating the illusion that there simply wasn’t a horizon. It was quite unnerving. And gorgeous: purple hues running into subtle pinks all reflected off the perfectly still water.

At least dinner was worth the wait: Large, man sized T-bone steaks, pap, wors, gravy and relish, bread, salad and spanspek for desertz (see what I did there? Quizillion letter score, cuz I zaid zo!). Huuuuuuuuggh. So.Much. fooooood. Bryan got a standing ovation. Again.

To mix things up, Annelie and I are sleeping on the top deck under the stars. The wind is out a bit tonight but it’s not cold. We lay in bed a long while peering at the constellations through my binoculars. I wish I actually knew all the names of what I was looking at, but it’s all good none the less.

Highlights: Life, the Universe, Everything

[G & A], out

these are my words i’ve never said before

14 August, Day 62: gone fishin'

2009-08-14T09:45:00.000+01:00

The bell tolls from the wee early hours. I drag my ass out of bed in time to witness the first sunrise in a while (I don’t make an effort to wake up for these anymore) and I have the camera handy to snap a few good’ns. Coffee and more rusks, breakfast of muesli and yo-gurt (I say YO-gurt, not “yoghurt”), bacon, delicious, sweet, tasty bacon, eggs and toast with a fruit salad. Yes, we really do eat that much for breakfast, and I usually clean up the scraps. Maintaining this magnificent physique takes that kind of dedication...

Bit of sport today: we’re going fishing! Haven’t touched a rod (oh get your mind out of the gutter!) in a good while. Did some light sea fishing a while back with Dan the Man with a Plan on the Isle of Wight. Or is it “white”, I can never remember! Anyhoo, I didn’t catch anything then either and it wasn’t a serious attempt.

Tender boats are loaded up with booze and snacks and a rather funny looking vegetable rack, full of soil. “What’s that?”, I ask. “Bait”, replies Jenny. Spot the rookie. Indeed, the container was filled with soil and earthworms. After a brief lesson on “How to attach a hook to the fishing line without garrotting yourself” we cast off in search of Breem. The other variety that you can catch for sport around these parts is Tigerfish, mean looking critter, big nasty teeth, not very edible though. Mattie, Jenny, Fanie, myself and Marco (...polo...) head off to a secluded, shallow bay while the other tender boat with the girls, Marieke, Marietta and Annelie head the other direction with Bryan. They don’t feel like staying out too long and opted for a quick game cruise instead.

We find a nice spot next to a petrified tree and tie up the boat. I allow the captain to show me how to hook an earthworm onto the hook... eeeew... and cast my line... badly. I blame the equipment, of course, but it turns out I don’t have to cast the bait too fair, I can just drop it over the side. I do so with elegance and grace. In the short time it takes me to actually get my line wet, Jenny has already caught a sizable Breem! Into the cargo hold it goes. Mattie is next and the captain follows with little ones and then bigger specimens, perfect for filleting. Fanie catches up with more, and Jenny reels in another big fella. Me, well, they sure seemed to like my bait! I couldn’t catch anything, and I was on my third worm already (which I put on the hook myself. Eeew.) I decided to try my luck on the other side of the boat and had a few more nibbles. The others in the meantime have caught a ton of fish, Mattie seems to be a natural catching no less than 5 Breems with ONE worm! Dang, he even caught one without any bait.

Lots of smack talking on the boat, of course, mostly from Mattie. I can’t even join in, since I’m so shit at this point. Just then I got one nibble, another insistent nibble and then a bite and I snap back on the rod and start reeling him in! Out of the water emerges the smallest Breem I’ve ever seen in my life (and I’ve seen at least 10 in my career, all in the space of the last few minutes). I smile for the picture anyway, what the hell :) Into the hold it goes. My next catch, a good time later is even smaller! I comment that it’s perfectly ok, since I enjoy sushi very much, and these are already down to sushi portions so no wastage.

And that was the sum total of my fishing experience. The End.

On the way back we spot the a stricken sister boat dead in the water. As it happened, the girls’ quick 20 minute cruise turned into a full hour of floating. The engine didn’t seem to want to start anymore. Kind of a big deal, not only because it’s inconvenient, but because hippos generally fear outboard motors. They fear silent, drifting boats far less...

The captain expertly zigs and zags between the dead trees towards them and we cast them a line (just like fishing! Only without worms). Next, we drag their sorry asses back to the African Queen, stopping in a bay where a croc has secured a drown Grants Gazelle and was dragging it out to water.

Back on the AQ and the boys get busy with the filleting. They also purchased a few more Breem’s from the local fishermen operating in the area, no doubt to make up for my ineptitude.

A delicious lunch of cold meats, bread, jams and a large salad is rudely interrupted by a swarm (of exactly 4) bees! Mattie excuses himself and retires to his cabin. More bees arrive as we piss off the scouting party and we basically have to grab food and retreat ourselves. The little bastards seem to enjoy the orange slices lining the salad quite a bit, so these are removed. We also cast off in an effort to get away from the nearby bee nest. Once the coast was clear, we could go back upstairs and get back to doing a whole lot of nothing.

Halfway to Gordon’s bay (no, not the Gordon’s bay in Cape Town) we stop again for a refreshing dip seemingly in the middle of nowhere before continuing on.

Chef extraordinaire Bryan dazzles us once again with a wonderful setting battered fish (yes, the Breem. Am I spelling “breem” right? Spell checker seems to hate it.) and chips, salad and “Bryans Patatoes”, which I think is potatoes, cooked and removed from their skins, mashed, creamed and cheesed and put back into the skin! Fruit salad and what was left of the custard for desert. We play more cards and drink coffee before tucking in for bed.

Highlights: I caught a fish! Two, in fact.

[G & A], out

You’re my favourite damn disease

13 August, Day 61: Lake Kariba

2009-08-13T09:44:00.000+01:00

Didn’t sleep too well, kept tossing and turning. An interesting observation: it’s like trying to sleep in the middle of a giant iron bell! Every movement above deck is ampflied into our cabin and Max has been cleaning and sweeping since 05:00.

The cabin itself is quite nice, by the way. They’ve recently refurbished the whole boat so everything seems quite new. It’s not large by any count but comfortable enough for two people, albeit in separate beds. We even have mosquito nets.

Get up and grab some coffee and rusks, bring some downstairs to the wife (Man of the Year, 2009 nominee, winner of 2008/2007/2006...). Breakfast was pap and wors with relish and a fruit salad for starters. The rest of the day was pretty much what you’d expect. I spent some time in the Jacuzzi, played tennis and squash, caught a matinee on the entertain deck and caught some sun out by the pool.

I am of course kidding. We played cards, drank, ate, ate, drank, ate, read a bit, snoozed, tanned, drank, played more cards, that kinda thing. Later on we all loaded into the two tender boats and headed out of the bay for a mini-game cruise. Managed to see more hippos, a few antelope and elephants and a pride of lions. Yawn... (totally spoilt, I know!). Back on the boat and Captain Marco disembarks towards Elephant Point. He stops when we reach the “middle”, or rather “far from shore” so that we can take a dip. Very refreshing! We’re only allowed in the water in areas far away from shore and too deep for hippos and crocodiles. The water here is also some of the freshest in the world. Back on the boat, hit some more suntan action and snoozing while the captain continues to our destination. He guides us gently through great big forests of petrified trees, their white gnarly branches reaching out of the water like skeletons.

Anecdote: I have a morbid fascination with dead trees. Seriously, I’ve got at least 500 pictures of em, from all over. I think I may need counselling.

A few other house boats operate on the lake; I spotted a MASSIVE 50 Pax monster towing no less that 4 extremely large power boats. So when we arrive at Elephant point it’s a bit of a scramble to find a nice secluded bay, out of site of the others.

Around 17:40 we all load back onto the tender boats, witness yet another Epic African Sunset (Yaaaaaaaawn....), the sky on fire and reflecting off the lake. Oh how droll, wake me up when my martini is ready. Back on the boat and more drinking with cards and snacks.

Bryan the Magnificent cooked the best damn lamb joint and roast potatoes we’ve ever had! Topped with a most delicious gravy and punctuated with a fresh fruit salad desert and custard. I stopped eating only once ALL the food was gone, it was unreal. Even more so, if you consider the little kitchen it’s all prepared in. Bravo Sir, Bra-vo [slow clap].

Highlights: Has to be the lamb joint

Just chilling and chatting and getting some me-time

Gnarly dead trees!

[G & A], out.

Still a lil’ life left inside of, me

12 August, Day 60: The African Queen

2009-08-12T09:44:00.000+01:00

Our 11:00 boarding time comes and goes. Boat is nowhere to be seen. The agent eventually arrives and explains that the current charter demanded to have breakfast on the boat so as such we’re running a bit late, but we later found out that the good captain accidently ran the boat onto a sandbank.

We kill more time until about 14:30 when we’re finally given the go ahead. Quite a huge load of cargo we have to trek down to the dock, so we load it all up into Jenny’s modified 4x4 Landcruiser and we walk down the steps. The African Queen is moored below and the crew was getting ready for boarding and loading. Gerald arrived just a bit earlier with two fuel drums packed with diesel on his bakkie, they manage to rig a hose to them and start to transfer the juice. Funny how the trip turned full circle: when we arrived in Zimbabwe (luggage-less!) at the beginning of the trip, we took a boat cruise on the Zambezi on the African Queen. This is of course another, different Queeny, but still. I dig that kind of stuff.

Jenny arrives with reinforcements to help to load all the gear and it was quite nerve wrecking to behold. They first carry the gear down from the parked Landcruiser, down a slippery slope and onto a pontoon platform which is then used as a to transfer onto a tender boat (one of two small powerboats that the African Queen drags behind her) and THEN over to the house boat! Before I can stop them they’ve already unpacked my camera gear and I retrieve it for safe keeping. Just in time for the bag carrying to big-boy lens to open wide and regurgitate it’s contents and drop it onto the floor....

Mmnmnmnmnmnmnmnmnmnmn

A little.... angry... with myself. Good thing it didn’t fall too far so no damage to the glass, but the lens caps still get scratched something horrid, which to my obsessive compulsive tendencies is enough to really upset me wholesale. Danmit, you know... My mood wasn’t helped by the big thorns breaking off into my hand and arm, courtesy of the nasty thorn tree next to the ladder we have to use to actually get onto this freakin tub!

The African Queen is a house boat floating on 3 pontoons, 2 storeys high, with 4 bedrooms (sleeping a maximum of 15 people), 2 bathrooms with a shower each and an upstairs bar, bridge and lounge area with dining room table. Once everyone has figured out which rooms they want we’re all set.

Well, not quite yet. Seems like the agency that organised this cruise forgot about fuel for the generator!! So we have to wait yet again as Gerald and Fanie goes off to hunt for petrol (yeah, it’s a petrol generator). This is Zimbabwe, by the way. Which translates to: “they had to drive to three different fuel stations to find one with petrol, that they were willing to sell”. Tick tock...

My timing was a bit off, because by my reckoning, at this rate, we were only going to cast off by 18:00. I’m pleased to have been wrong. The crew manages to get their shit together by 16:40 and we cast off to cheers and drinks.

Allow me to introduce them: The crew consists of 3 members, Captain Marco (... polo... can’t help myself), Cookie Bryan and Max the deck hand. The good Captain takes us into Antelope Bay and anchors for the night. Bryan cooks up a fantastic meal for us of chicken (ever seen Little Miss Sunshine? “Chicken Again?? Always with the fucking chicken!”) , rice and gravy. Bryan seems to have gotten his measurements wrong however, and we end up with what was about 3 kilos of prepared rice! Oh well, we can always save some for the rest of the trip. Tonight we actually wanted lamb joint (instead of the “fucking chicken!”, because that’s the only dang thing any African restaurant can actually cook...well...) but it couldn’t defrost in time because of the late start so it will move to tomorrow evenings menu. Unfortunately I couldn’t fully enjoy the “f-ing chicken!” and my own bodyweight in cooked rice since I developed a mild case of migraine. I reckon it’s because of the empty stomach, dehydration and diesel fumes, with a dash of bright sun and maybe the excessive late afternoon drinking. I excuse myself, drop an aspirin and tuck into my bunk, which is about 30 cm too short for me, so my legs hang off the end.

Sigh. Early night for me.

Highlights: Passing out

Not smashing a very expensive lens

[G & A], out

Who needs action when you got words

11 August, Day 59: Jenny's place

2009-08-11T09:44:00.000+01:00

Started off with a nice big breakfast of eggs and toast, fruit salad and such. The fruit for the fruit salad, including papaya, apples, oranges, spanspek, almost everything except bananas come straight out of Jenny’s garden! Later I found out they grow at 18 different types of fruit and vegetables on site. They farm with bees (not too good for Mattie, but at least it’s on the other side of the estate), cultivate their own compost via a wormary (did I spell that right? Big heap with earth worms in it...) and recycle pretty much everything. A real inspirational example of self sufficiency, something the whole world is abuzz about for economic reasons. Here in Zimbabwe, it’s a necessity since you simple cannot buy things in shops anymore!

Anyway, after breakfast I unpacked everything from the Bullet and setup a sorting area outside in the sun. Man, this is a really painful process. It’s like repacking your entire closet every 2-3 weeks and re-arranging everything! What a mission. We also meet Jenny’s son, Gerald, nice guy. He runs the day to day operations of the fishing business. Annelie helps me out with a haircut and a beard trim. I reckon she did a good job and I look partly human again!

In the afternoon Jenny takes us to the only store around, which surprisingly has stock of quite a few items. A few items we missed from our shopping list could at least be bought here, including the two crates of soft drinks we intended to buy here. We can then return the crates and empty bottles for a return deposit. We make a turn at Gerald’s house to say high to his wife and to pick up the e-ticket for Marietta’s flight. Before we head back, Jenny takes us to a high lookout point with a fantastic view of the Lake, just before sunset, so everything is that gorgeous golden colour. There is a small market up there, so Annelie buys a little handbag and I add a bracelet to my growing collection of useless trinkets.

Back at Jenny’s, we finish up with the repacking operation and get ready for the braai. Gerald and his wife arrives a bit later and he asks me about the Bullets rear tires, since the rims don’t match up to the front. I tell him about the punctures in Tanzania and how I now have another puncture. He offers to take the wheel in to have it checked out, since as it turns out he’ll be taking a few tires down to the shop tomorrow anyway. Score! Means I don’t have to do it! Awesomeness, I accept his offer, of course.

Meat goes down a storm with our last bottle of wine I discovered during the repack (something good DID come out of it, then!) And that’s about it.

Highlights: A cool lesson in self sufficiency

Getting my admin up to date, DVD backups and the like

[G & A], out

Lady lady love me

10 August, Day 58: dancing with Interpol

2009-08-10T09:44:00.000+01:00

Way before sunrise the others were already off to Moonia’s shop. We take our time with breakfast and repacking a few things before we head out at 10:00, after the pick up our order of meat and eggs from the butcher.

By 12:00 we arrive back at that little shopping complex we used previously, at the beginning of our journey. Shopping is in full swing and 2 full trolley loads are already done and dusted. We offer to pay for the third along with our own stash of drinks and alcohol. It was decided that each couple will cater for their own drinks while the food is a group effort. The girls already worked out a menu for us, since how it works is that you supply the ship’s cook with the foodstuffs and a general idea of what you’d like him to do with it and he’ll cook it up.

Fanie and Hannelise will be driving with us to the border today, so we needed to clear the back seat of the Bullet again. All loaded up with groceries and our new passengers the group heads out to the Zambia / Zimbabwe border. A quick stop will be required before that though at a resort on the banks of the Kariba, on the Zambia side. Here Fanie will organise with the owner of the lodge to receive the repaired Colt so that he can collect it once we return from the boat trip. Moonia has written a letter and made the required calls ahead, so that Fanie can just leave the money with the lodge and get the car keys. Cool, huh?

The road is very scenic, consisting mostly of mountain passes. After a short winding drive we are treated to the first view of the lake. I have to admit, if I didn’t know it was a lake I would have thought we’ve reached the ocean again! Because it was a bit hazy as well it seemed like the horizon never ended, as sky and water met in perfect colour balance.

We arrive at the Lake Safari Lodge and meet with the owners son, Matthias. Fanie speaks to him and hands over the letter and the arrangement is made. We order some soft drinks, in order for me to rid myself of the remaining 675 000 Kwacha I still had in my pocket. The Fantas arrive flat and devoid of carbonated delight. I send it back, saying it’s flat. The waiter argues that Fanta doesn’t have gas in it. I guffaw, and order a coke instead. This time, it has gas.

Turns out, he was right. You see, there is a large bottling plant in Zimbabwe, that still bottles Fanta. Only, they cannot buy the gas to carbonate the drinks anymore. So Fanta does indeed devoid of bubbly. Heh, imagine that.

All done, we prepare ourselves for one of our final border crossing adventures. The Zambian side is quite easily done although the guys that work in the office there clearly have nothing to do with themselves. To get to the Zimbabwe side we are have to drive across over the dam wall and we’re treated to a magnificent site. A few stats: the Kariba reservoir is an expansion of the Zambezi River. Built in 1955-1959 it’s a great hydroelectric facility that straddles the border between Zambia and Zimbabwe. The dam itself is 128 m high and has a length along its crest of about 610 m. Lake Kariba extends upstream for 282 km (175 mi), through Kariba Gorge, and has a maximum width of about 40 km (about 25 mi). When the lake was formed, in 1960 and 1961, some 50,000 persons required resettling, and many wild animals were evacuated in a project called Operation Noah.

We clandestinely snap a few pics, not sure how they’ll turn out...

On the other end we park the vehicles and start dancing through the red tape, in a little LOUD office with a door that slams shut every 2 minutes. We pay our carbon tax (what a joke) and clear the vehicles through customs. Then something unusual happens: we are requested to step around the back and fetch Interpol so that they can inspect our vehicles. Oooo, kay.

So I go around the back to find these two dudes just kicking back on a bench. I humbly request their presence to inspect the 3 vehicles around the corner and after some more Q & A they finally agree to do some work today. Next, they want me to pop the hood so that they can check the engine and chassis numbers to the Carnets details. And wouldn’t you know it, the chassis number of the Bullet doesn’t match up to that on the Carnet...

Fak.

Okay, in all fairness, it’s a small clerical error. The 20 digit number has one “0” missing in the middle, but the rest, including the engine number, number plate, description of the vehicle even the colour of the leather seats are spot on. But this is Africa, and now we have a problem. As I’m trying to figure out a way to explain Mattie goes on a rant about what bullshit this is, why do they have to check the cars, surely a Carnet is enough and and and... (at this stage, he didn’t know the chassis number didn’t match up!). There goes a perfect opportunity to try and clear the border quickly, and now we have a situation on our hands. More back and forth between the two Interpol guys and Mattie, before Interpol walks off. I explain to Mattie, through gritted teeth, that his timing is more than unfortunate, before walking after them. They check out Dirk’s Toyota in the meantime, and I tag along like a god damned puppy holding the Carnet, asking them to please be so kind as to check my vehicle.

I’ve played this game so many times by now, it’s not unlike working with children. They’re feelings have been hurt now, you see, so there is a lot of soothing and making jokes and ass licking involved to get the fucking guy to just do his job. And of course it makes it harder, now that I’m technically in the wrong, since the docs don’t match up. We walk back, he double checks all the info again, Mattie has calmed a bit after my pep talk and they clear the Ford. Back to the Bullet and we still have a problem. I make jokes, explain that it’s clearly a dumb clerical error, that I’ll kick some ass when I get into Cape Town, how observant they are to notice it, how they’re only doing their job (the other, ratty looking one keeps swigging from a little vodka bottle during all of this. I ask him if he’s allowed to drink on the job and he leers at me...) and what we can do to “remedy the situation”. The Interpol talking head explains that the usual procedure in this situation would be to detain the vehicle and have the AA send a letter explaining the fault. It’s 17:00. Oh, and it’s a public holiday in S.A. today, Woman’s Day, I believe.

Fak Fak.

I down to smiling and making sexiest jokes at this point (“oh, it’s woman’s day!? Ja, I didn’t even know that, since I’m not a woman! Stupid woman, why do they need a holiday?? Get back in the kitchen! Har har hahah...)

Anecdote: did I mention I die a little inside each time I have to condescend to these meat balls?

So he looks at his drink-swigging ratty friend and asks “should we do him a favour?”. Slight pause, there is a mention of beer, at least I can buy them a beer, under breath. He stamps the Carnet and starts signing it, I ask how much a beer costs, they say about $1.50 (Ratty colleague mentions under his breath that he needs at least $10 to get pissed. Lightweight...) so I hand them $8 to go have a beer on me, not a bribe, more like “friends buying other friends a nice cold round”. Handshakes, smiles, I’m told that I’m a very friendly guy (thanks. Asshole) and I now have to head back to the office to get the gate pass stamped for 4 people. I do so quickly, lest we get stuck into another round of negotiations.

Get the stamps, go to the gate, and we hit another snag. “Can you open the back please, let me see your luggage.” Annelie says : “what? Really?? HAHAHA, Good luck”.

*sigh*

Please baby, PLEASE don’t aggravate the last damn obstacle to get into this freaking country!! I smile my best game show host smile and say “sure, be my guest!” and open the back. Guy asks what’s in the fridge. I reply meat. Fanie is horrified, says in Afrikaans I shouldn’t have said that. Didn’t have a choice Amigo! So the guy asks me to open it, and I do. He asks how it’s packages and I make a big show of proving it’s from Shoprite and it’s fresh and all good. He pauses and says ok, I can close it. As I do, the other guy with him says “stop, open again please.” He asks how many KG’s I have in there, I say, gee, I dunno, enough for 12 people for 4 days? He says no no, we have to unpack it all and declare it, I protest and say no, it’s food for us, for 4 days. We have to further explain that it’s for 8 of us, travelling in 3 vehicles (4, I mean 3! One is broken!) and then we’re meeting one more person, plus 3 crew on the boat. So how much meat is it? I reply, again, for the slow class, “enough meat to feed 12 people for 4 days”. Pause, uncomfortable one. He loses interest and says we can go.

FINALLY!!

Over to the other side, into Zim (bye bye Zambia!) and meet up with (yet another) cousin of Fanie’s, named Jenny. We all pile in the cars and head out, away from the twilight zone that is a border crossing in Africa.

We approach a rather large looking house through a set of security gates up a slight hill. Before the hill to the left are rows on rows of large blue nets that I recognise from the fishing village we visited in Malawi as drying nets for fish. Once at Jenny’s house, we park the cars and can finally relax. Teas and coffees and a fantastic view of the lake from Jenny’s lawn. The house is perched on a cliff that leads down stone stairs to a harbour and bay about 15 meters below. She owns a Kepenta fishing company, and the harbour and bay with it. It’s quite a large stretch of real estate! Kapenta is the name of a very small fish, a bit like sardines or bokoms. These are caught in droves by Kapenta boats, who look just like cockroaches, by dropping nets behind the boat and luring the fish with a light attached to the back. The boats are quite basic, resembling a poor man’s catamaran built on oil drums, all of them pitch black and gangly looking. But, they sure get the job done! The fish are then brought to shore and dried in the nets and so on I saw earlier and sold to the locals as a abundant source of protein. The fish are consumed as is or added to porridge and other dishes.

Tonight we are sleeping in what is the lounge of a two bedroom bachelors flat, across the way from the house proper. Tomorrow we’ll have a moment to catch our bearings again, pack for the 4 day cruise / stay on the lake and rethink our strategy for the last bit of the journey once we return. Looks like we may go through Botswana on the way to South Africa, or maybe just cut strait South, to Beitbrug. Mattie has organise a plane ticket for Marietta home on the 17^th, so the following Monday. And I think Fanie would need to head back to Zambia to fetch his car, while Dirk and Marieke aims to head straight home on the day we return.

So basically this should be the last trip were the entire group is together before everyone heads their separate way to reach S.A.

Highlights: Only about 2 more border posts to cross before we get back home!

Looking forward to 4 days of being catered for

[G & A], out

One more time, with feeling

9 August, Day 57: on magical items

2009-08-09T09:44:00.000+01:00

Before we leave Loza I take an opportunity to update the online journal with the last week or so worth of stuff. Have breakfast, its sunny but quite windy today. SMS from the stragglers is that they’re about 250 KM’s behind us. We are heading to a campsite called Frangella, or something. It’s not on the GPS so we’ll have to keep our eyes open. There is supposed to be a very good on site butchery as well and this is where we’ll probably buy most of the meat for Kariba.

Mattie has to settle the bill with some Pound Sterling travellers cheques, which we determined works out to our advantage. The hotels exchange rates are quite wonky, and the end total for paying in one currency <> another, taking official exchange rates into account. Total bill for me and Annelie, including drinks and the meals: 570 000 Kwachas. Works out to about R 1 140 or £91. Quite a lot, like I said before, for what we got in terms of room quality. And this is AFTER we negotiated a better price. Our options were limited in this part of the world though.

Speaking of which, it’s beautiful out here. Lots of wide open fields and old farm land that must have been quite successful in its day. Now it’s all tall golden grass but it’s still a very nice scene.

At the next town we finally see signs of civilisation, the first since we’ve crossed the border. After a brief stop over in Kapwe, we just manage to catch the Shoprite before it closes and after much trouble to find an ATM that accepted a VISA card (even though most have VISA stickers on them, but don’t accept VISA).

During our drive we have been keeping up to date with Fanie and Dirks movements. They seemed to be tracking along but we knew that the road they’d have to face was lined with pothole on pothole on death trap. Towing a 3 ton trailer shaped like a Mitsubishi Colt cannot be fun if driving it was such a headache.

Anyways, we make quite good time and the road is very smooth all the way, so we arrive at Fringilla just after lunch. The sign post fortunately is quite large and hard to miss. On arrival we are all blown away by the setup. The best I can describe it is that it’s a rather large farm with an onsite butchery, big restaurant and bar with outside seating, a handful of very large conference facilities, play pens, pig pens, goat pens, chickens, ducks, on site post office, Western Union (for money transfers) and a large camp site. The camp site also has numerous lapa’s for making food and top notch cottages and bathroom facilities. Being Sunday afternoon, the place is buzzing with families and large groups of people kicking back, having a nice Sunday roast lunch and chilling in the sun. We register at reception, camping is a mere 25 000 Kwachas each (about R50, or £4) and setup our tents. We bought some nice boerewors at the Shoprite in Kapwe so that goes on the gas stove and lunch is sorted.

To our great surprise, at around 15:00 a white Toyota Fortuner towing a very broken green Colt rolls into the campsite! Mattie quite literally sent them an SMS 10 minutes earlier asking how they were, where they are and that he would like to offer them some chow if they get here. The victorious towing party gets out and we all greet them.

First things first, and we get another round of drinks and seats and settle in to hear their tale, of the 4 tow bars...

We already knew that the Colt blew up again after the engineered timing belt form another make and model broke again. So they ended up towing the car. When they reached the border, well, they had their own adventure with customs to get the vehicles across. During the circus that is a border crossing a very kind truck driver from South Africa took one look at this setup and offered them a real tow bar, instead of the rope they were currently using. He also advised that it is illegal to tow a car with a rope in Zambia (I thought there may be some interesting traffic law eccentricity that they should keep in mind). Also, a tow bar needs to be tied with a rope at both ends anyways, as backup, for in case the tow bar fails. This was especially important for driving over potholes and such: if the front end should fail off the front vehicle, they broken end could stick into a pothole and spear right through the towed vehicle! They arrange to get the truck drivers details in order to return the tow bar once they arrive in S.A.

But first they needed to clear the border. Which was made double difficult by the abundance of trucks trying to do the same thing. And then by a very aggressive and tall Traffic Control Officer (dun dun dun.... probably the same crotch stain that wanted to fine me two days before). Very long story short, but Dirk manages to con his way through it all with the finesse of a Steam boat gambler and through sheer frustration they finally let the injured convoy through. Speaking of which, this “injured convoy” thing worked quite well for them later on, when pulled over at police stops. After Dirk gave them the whole act they usually apologised and wished them all sorts of luck before letting them through.

Anyway, roughly 50 km’s down the road and *klang-KLANG-klangklangklang!* That’s the end of tow bar number one. The secondary safety rope does the trick from keeping the tow off the road. Cool. Rather, not cool: the tow bar snapped in two. Just a few minutes later, another truck stops and the driver jumps out to offer help. They manage to secure yet another tow bar and secure this to the two cars. Few km’s further, *clang-KLANG-klangklangklang!* Second tow bar kaput, broke clean off at the end. The SAME truck driver from tow bar number one stops to offer help. Between the tools in the Fortuner and the tools in his truck, they fashion another tow bar from a combination of leftovers. They give tow bar number one to the driver to go ahead to the next town and at least drop it off at a metal work shop where they can maybe repair it. Oraait, off they go.

*clang-KLANG-klangklangklang!*, third attempt, broken. Running out of options here! So they take a chance to at least tow the car by rope to the next town to the work shop where tow bar number one should be.

Luck smiles on them and they at least reach the town and shop without incident. But as it goes in African countries, not all the ingredients are on site to bake a healthy, welded tow bar. So the locals first need to go off site to another part of town to fetch the flux. Now they don’t have brackets, so off they go again. And one more time, for the bolts and a chain.

After much applied violence, something borrowed and something blue, forged in the fires of Mount Doom, a +3 tow bar of Superior Towing emerges.

Armed with such a divine artefact, the pair managed to tow the Colt the remaining 350 k’s all the way to Fringilla, through horrible potholes and with the aid of extreme anger management counselling (from both Hannelise and Marieke. Apparently Fanie and Dirk was getting quite pissed off with one another, as you’d expect).

At any rate, everyone is still friends and we’re all happy to be together again. We tell them a bit about our adventures on Zanzibar. Annelie and I also explore the pig pens, with the biggest sows we’ve ever seen, each enclosure filled with little piglets squealing for a teat. Annelie melts, as she usually does around small cute animals. Just before 17:00 we make our orders for meat at the butchery: a few kilos of boerewors, chicken, a lamb joint and 9 large T-bone steaks, to be collected tomorrow morning at 09:00. This will supplement the rest of the shopping list (rather LARGE shopping list) that we will be picking up in Lusaka tomorrow for our 4 day boat trip on Lake Kariba (more like the Kariba “dam”, but anyway).

On the way to the butchery, we run into the owner, George, who happens to be from Kenya and just so happens to know Fanie’s dad and uncles! It may seem coincidental, because that’s exactly what it was. It’s also true that before the Mao-Mao’s drove all the white farmers out of Kenya about 40 years ago, the white farming community there knew each other quite well. I guess it’s still a small world after all.

Later in the evening George came to chat some more and inquired about the broken vehicle. George recommended that they tow the car to Moonia Singh’s workshop just before Lusaka. Moonia is well known in these parts as Zambia’s world rally champion and he has his own engineering shop here. A few phone calls later and it’s done.

So tomorrow first thing they’ll head off the workshop and we’ll catch them at Shoprite.

Highlights: The others making it in one piece in such a short time with so much uphill!

Piglets! Delicious looking piglets!

[G & A], out

Organised and dangerous

8 August, Day 56: Zambia 3000

2009-08-08T09:43:00.000+01:00

Today we’re having our very own Gumball 3000 across Zambia. We’re making good progress though, but we have at least 900 km’s to kill to get to Lusaka.

The day starts quite early, 07:15. Only, it’s NOT 07:15! I wake up, peek outside and see that the moon (which was full, and glorious) was still quite high in the sky. From the murmurings coming from Mattie’s tent I gather that Fanie got it totally wrong, the time zone is NOT an hour later, but an hour earlier. So it was a crisp, bright and early 05:15. I go take a leak and snuggle back into my nest. Annelie didn’t even stir.

At 09:00 (so 07:00) I wake up again and get some coffee going; treat Annelie to coffee and the last crumbs of our rusk supply. Pack up and get loaded up, set all the clocks in the car, cell phone and watch back by 2 hours and officially we’re on our way at 07:52. Very good going for a while before the road degrades into something resembling a quarry. So much so that entire 20 meter bits of it has a bypass road next to it. I muse how trucks manage to cross these insane potholes.

Just before noon we get pulled over by a overzealous traffic official. Unfortunately Marietta wasn’t wearing her seatbelt and we’re ordered to park. They make a call to play hardball with the traffic wardens, bad move. They basically want to through her in jail, they ask me to produce our triangles and all sorts of rubbish. Long long story short, and about an hour later, Mattie relaxes the very tense wardens and greases a palm with 20 000 Kwachas (about R40, or £2.50). He is reprimanded and advised that “you should be humble” when pulled over. Gritted teeth thanks. Man... telling you.

Park off a few km’s further for lunch, make jokes about jailbirds.

The roads improve exponentially with ice smooth asphalt and we race on at a very good pace. Also, being Saturday, there are almost no cars or trucks on the road. The first “inn” we check out is a roach and lice motel, so we head to another place called Loza guesthouse. Very nice place, over priced for what you get. But we negotiate a better price with the Dutch owner. There is a very nice bar area which we go sit in to watch the last 20 minutes of the Tri-nations game between South Africa and Australia, SA wins. Good times.

More info from the stragglers, the car started and ran for a bit but made a weird noisy. Another SMS later noted that they’re back to towing the Colt. They did manage to secure a proper tow bar from a truck driver at the border. I recommended that they check and recheck what the traffic laws of Zambia have to say about towing a vehicle. I can only imagine those very same traffic officials that stopped us with a huge grin on his face as the Toyota and Colt approach. Pay day has arrived...

How the heck are they going to cope with the quarries we had to duck and dive?? Time will tell, stay tuned.

Have a very pleasant dinner, steak for a change. Loza has their very own butchery on site and the meat is fantastic. Not the best I’ve had, but compared to the tired old Maasai cattle meat we’ve been eating, it’s heaven. Good wine to wash it down. Also my mother in law’s birthday today, so baie geluk Ma! Xx

Sleeping in a bit tomorrow since we’re quite ahead of schedule.

Highlights: Good steak

The Bokke beating Oz

[G & A], out

Hooray for promises

7 August, Day 55: Timing is everything

2009-08-07T09:40:00.000+01:00

Left camp just after 08:30. Checked brake fluid last night, filled it up to the max, seems to be holding today. Right rear tire was a little deflated when we checked it, also not a biggie. Find a fuel stop just a few meters on from where the entrance to the camp was and fill up the Bullet.

Heading out to Mbeya again (yeah, that was where Mattie was diagnosed with Malaria and we had to sleep at the Greenview or whatever site with the Minaret RIGHT next to us). Fanie and Dirk are at a Toyota garage a few KM’s out looking at Fanies timing chain predicament.

Schools in: a timing chain is the bit that syncs the cam and crank shaft, i.e. the valves and the pistons inside the engine. So what should happen is the valve at the top of the combustion chamber opens up to fill the chamber with fuel and oxygen while the piston is in the bottom position. As the piston moves up, the valve closes again, sealing the chamber and the spark plug ignites the mix, sending the piston back down again. This up-down motion needs to be synchronised so that the piston doesn’t end up going right through the valve at the top, or that combustion doesn’t occur while the chamber is open. So, if you lose the timing chain at speed, well, bad things can happen, mkay?

They did manage to buy a new timing chain yesterday, but we have no feedback as to how it’s going. We push on past a few police checkpoints, we’re asked to produce some papers and so on, no biggie. Then Mattie is pulled over for “passing on a solid line”, just like everybody else does. But road laws seem to especially apply to foreigners. He asks what the fine is, officer says 40 000 TSH, Mattie says that’s too much, he’s asked how much money her has, he says 10 000, officer accepts, asks “no receipt?”, Mattie replies of course not, smiling officer sticks money in breast pocket and wishes him a safe journey, and “hope to see you again”. Mattie laughs and says he hopes NOT, since it’s too expensive. Officer laughs and off we go.

Round noon we make a pitstop for lunch, pasta left overs and I make myself some 2 minute noodles for later (dunno why, I had as hankering for 2 minute noodles). As we’re having lunch in the sun and out of the wind I look down and notice that we are literally sitting on a pile of money! Torn and shredded 5000 and 10 000 TSH notes litter the area. The 10 000 notes have been shredded the finest, while the 5000 notes where torn meticulously but in random sized bits. Further exploration reveals more shredded money, under our cars and further down the pathway we’ve made our lunch hall. The plot thickens. I’d have to guess that there must have been well over 2 000 000 of the things discarded here. So what’s the story? Fake money, someone had to ditch out of site? Drug money? Were ninjas involved? How much does bacon weigh at the equator anyway? These where all valid and pertinent questions. But I fear we’ll never know. I snap pics for forensic purposes.

On our way again. An hour or so later we reach Mbeya and the Toyota garage, drive past the Toyota garage, Annelie asks: “isn’t that the Toyota garage they’re at?”, we turn around and head back to the Toyota garage and find the rest of the gang camping behind the service centre. Greets and hellos all round, Fanie’s Colt has been gutted and various bits of 3 litre engine scattered around the garage. This is the third attempt to re-assemble it, we’re told. Oh, and that timing belt they got was for an Isuzu and they had to take a few links out to make it fit the Colt. Mmmmm. But word has it the car did start and seems to be ok, miraculously.

Long story short, but the original plan was that while we were in Zanzibar they were going to buy food and supplies for the Kariba boat trip. So now we will be swopping roles while they wait on the injured Colt. We get the shopping list and go over the items and also take an opportunity to blow out the ait filters again on a real compressor. We agree on a new plan in that the mobile crew will continue on to the border, push through into Zambia and onward to Lusaka where there is a big shopping complex (we made a call there way back at the beginning of the tour too). Say our goodbyes, draw some dosh from the ATM next door and bail at about 15:20.

The border on the Tanzanian side was very efficient and we clear customs and immigration in no time. Also take an opportunity at the forex to exchange the shillings for Kwachas.

Bye bye Tanzania!

The Zambian side is another matter all together. I’ve not entered Zambia with a vehicle before, last time we arrived was in Zimbabwe and we just walked across. Man, what a mission this is.

Deep breath: Do the immigration bit, go over with the Carnets to a little office at the gate for a signature (??, she doesn’t even look at the stuff), back to another office where a very kind lady explains everything we need to do, to another office to pay “carbon tax” of 150 000 Kwachas per vehicle (that’s about R300, or say £25), we then realise we already have papers for Carbon tax that only expires on the 31^st of December, go to get refund, nada, have to speak to big chief, speak to big chief who is HUGE and has a voice like James Earl Jones (“this...is CNN), I tell him so and suggest he goes into commercials, he laughs but we still need to pay the carbon tax, since we left the country, and it doesn’t matter that we’ll be in the country a grand total of 4 days, back outside to pay a road tax or some shit, back past the gate and the aggressive guys “guarding” our vehicles (even though the woman are sitting INSIDE the cars), find a little building on the other side of the border to pay a “council levy” of another 15 000 Kwachas (for the honour of driving through the rat hole town on the other side of the fence), back to the cars and almost out, but not before aggressive “guards” want payment for their services, start to drive and I’m stopped by a “traffic control” person who now wants to find me for driving “without his permission” and “for not wearing a seatbelt” when all I was doing is moving out of the way for Mattie, orders me to park the vehicle and starts writing me a ticket, I apologise through gritted teeth because I would really, really enjoy punching this fucknut through the skull right now, lots of trucks make chaos and a soldier with a large rifle orders me to move, the “traffic dickwad” complains that I violated some law or whatever, the soldier laughs, calms him down and orders me to move (guy with rifle ALWAYS supersedes meat-bag with attitude problem) and we’re off.

Breath out...

Good thing I drew too much money at the ATM in Tanzania, because I was now cleared out of Kwachas! A short while later we’re pulled over by a military check point and asked to [produce our carbon tax and “papers”. We do so, and are free to go. Not sure if he even looked at it, but again, big gun... so.

We adjust all our clocks for Zambian time, an hour later. Past the checkpoint we make a quick stop just to grab a quick bite (left over bread from last night, damn I’m good!) and have a drink to clear the dust and garbage from our throats. I’m really getting tired of border crossings, I was standing in the line for the carbon tax and a BIG louse was walking on the little paper I was holding. Like, the biggest louse I’ve ever seen. Man...

We aim for the Kings Highway camp and arrive there at 19:00. Not really a camp site but the Afrikaans speaking girl that manages it reckons we can camp anyway. They have some sort of training facility here too (very common for these campsites, it would seem). I later found out Tania is also a pre-school teacher and that she and another woman teach the local kids.

There is a very nice kitchen area here but it’s quite late and dark already. We’re still stretching our food so tonight I’m making my world famous Chilli Con Carne, with the small packet of frozen solid mince. I still have all the ingredients to make something work and damn, I have to say, it’s the best con carne I’ve ever made! Annelie even says so, and she is famously critical of it if it’s too hot or soggy or whatever. This batch was perfect and we eat like Kings and Queens (see what I did there?). For desert I break out the left over chocolate fudge brownies I made for the Mara, slice them good like, cover in crushed cashews and Amarula. Yum!

After clearing up and packing away everybody tucks in, I spend a few hours chatting with Tania about the camp and what they do here. They farm with lots of vegetables, goats (she has 7, 3 are pregnant) and they’re looking into making bio fuels. The run a school on site for the village and they help out with various village affairs (plenty!). She’s had malaria about 7 times and wrestled with an amoeba of her own. Some of the little kids, no more than 4 years old have had malaria 15 times! Hectic. So it was cool to get a little inside track on life out here, as well as the fire ants, black mambas and other critters they have to contend with.

Head off to bed at 01:00 in the morning and tuck in.

Highlights: Simple one, really: damn good food!

[G & A], out

Not very good at pursuing redemption

6 August, Day 54: funny thing happened to the ferry today...

2009-08-06T08:02:00.000+01:00

Wake up early, first because of the prayer calls, then from the hustle in the camp. I think it’s unfair that the prayer call is a recording, I think that if the deal is to have it at 05:00 that it should be LIVE!

Anyways, whatever. Wake up, make breakfast and as we are enjoying our cold milk with cereal we hear a blunt sounding *thud* *thud* *thud thud thud* sound. I kind of sounded like the noon gun in Cape Town, not unlike canons being fired. After each *thud* we can hear a loud cheering sound. Then we realise it’s not cheering but something else. At any rate, a general excitement. More *thuds* follow at random intervals. We postulate that it may be a parade or something, since we think we say a old busted battleship in the harbour. More *thuds*, more noise from a large crown, this carries on for at least 10 minutes. What is a bit concerning is that the Maasai guards are a little unsure and alert to any apparent danger.

So we finish packing up and get going at about 08:00, hang a right at the camp gate and as we approach the dock we see quite a few fire trucks. The road ahead is charred black and army personnel are turning back traffic. We make a U-turn and I spy the source of the *thuds*: an entire shop and storage cage packed to the rafters with gas canisters exploded! They must have just gotten the fire under control, because everything was smouldering still, shards of canister strewn everywhere. Now I’m no expert, but I reckon somebody messed up.

We are re-directed around the block and stand dead still in traffic. Marietta asks a local man what happened and he mentions that at least one person died and many are injured (this is just one man’s account though. But if you Google gas explosion in Tanzania or Dar Es Salaam, it may have made news somewhere)

We decide that this is going nowhere and take the long way around, adding another 45 minutes slice to the days already long drive. More bad roads and crappy traffic and we hit it all in peak. As I mentioned before, the traffic lights here generally indicate not so much that it’s your turn to drive but more like when you can start pushing in. So we do. Balls of steel man.

The next few days we need to cover about 2500 km’s to get all the way to Zimbabwe for the Lake Kariba boat trip. This is new on the schedule, btw. Remember that we where gonna do Mozambique? Yeah, that’s not happening anymore, too much uncertainty and doubt with regards to the ferries and so on. So we’re skipping the whole country and organised the house boat. It’s 4 days of more sitting on our arses and being served by chefs. Sounds like fun.

I notice that the brake fluid light comes on and stays on. Stop at a garage to buy some more and later on found it to be quite low. Weird. Will need to monitor it. Once we clear the city the rest of the road is quite uneventful. In between all of this we get an SMS from Fanie, reports that his “timing chain has broken” and if we can buy a new one in Iringa. They’ll tow the Colt to the next town which is Mbeya. We don’t hear anything more from them and no one replies to our sms’s...

We eventually reach Riverside Camp just as our low fuel light flares up. Mattie filled in at a station a few KMs before, but the pumps are so slow here we opted to head on and find another one, but where surprised to find that we had already reached our destination! That was a quick days driving, or it felt like it.

The camp isn’t bad, lots of 18 year olds on some kind of mission mission. There is a Kiswahili school here too, teaching young and old alike Swahili. We setup camp and make some chow, tuna pasta and I bake some bread. We’re still on rations or whatever we had left before we went to Zanzibar so we’re making the best of it. There aren’t any shops for a good couple of days, so we’ll stretch best we can. We won’t stave, heavens no! But we have our standards, damnit.

Highlights: Well gee, I’d say NOT being blown to bits while queuing up in the road to board a ferry, wouldn’t you??

The tuna pasta was marvellous, just fantastic. One could even say... DELICIOUS!

[G & A], out

With my mind of my money and my money on my mind

5 August, Day 53: The vomit comet

2009-08-05T08:01:00.000+01:00

Early rise today, pack as best we can and head to breakfast. Finish up and check out, say cheers to Qin and Tian. Apparently their dolphin experience was way better than ours, the key was going out earlier. Oh well. We agree to meet them on the 13:00 ferry. Chollo sent a friend with a minibus for our taxi and it’s a smooth comfortable ride to the dock. Get our tickets and park off at Mercury’s around the corner (we kinda like the place, ok). Pizza was rubbish though, tasteless. Take one last look at the stunning view and move to board the ferry.

The sea is still very rough as we disembark, so much so that they hand everyone sick bags about 30 minutes into the journey. Qin and Tian made it, barely. Movie on TV was Congo, a fantastically stupid 90’s movie with that guy that plays in Nip/Tuck as the goody-two-shoes doctor. Lots of folks lose their lunch in the short 2 hour trip.

Bye Bye Zanzibar!

Arrive at Dar docks and it’s the same chaos again to unload the passengers and baggage. Porters, standing 4 miles deep wait with bated breath to board to “help” people unload their bags. They’re hold at bay by a steward. The porters remind me of the vultures we saw in the Mara, salivating over the fresh Wildebeest carcass. Once about half the people are off the boat they’re allowed access and they swarm onboard. I stand casually to one side and wait for them to clear all the other bags before I can get to mine, way in the back of the pile. I do so with the finesse of a champion weightlifter. Jerk and lift, yo.

On the way to the exit we negotiate a taxi on the fly and get a good deal back to Makadi camp. The Chinese chicks bailed, Tian was feeling motion sick and couldn’t handle the bobbing of the boats in the harbour. We’ll catch them later, I hope.

The trip back to the camp is quite quick, since as we arrive a smaller ferry is already offloading. In no time we’re on the other side and at the camp. The cars are still here and squeaky clean! I can even see the rims on the Bullet, super stoked he didn’t wash the mud off the spare on the roof. Unfortunately, the batteries (yes, plural) where dead. Dead like disco. Yeah, I did unplug and switch off everything, so I dunno. Jumper leads come out and away we go. We’ll put it on a battery charger tonight.

Setup tents, actually feels good to camp again. Go for a swim but it’s high tide, and very dirty. I don’t know where all the sea grass and junk came from. Skip that and jump in the pool instead where Annelie entertains me (and herself, mostly) with her synchronised swimming skills. Difficult to do, since she can’t stop laughing.

Dinner is whatever we have left over and we left in the camp fridges, so sausages and a ton of bacon, with a salad that followed suit.

Annelie’s ear is fine again, btw. Seems the bit of nursing did the trick. I say it was all the cocktails.

Heading south again tomorrow, over the ferry, through the Ass end of the world and out the other end to a spot Fanie and Dirk camped at a few days ago, Riverside Campsite (yeah, yet another “Riverside” whatchmacallit. How original)

Highlights: Not blowing chunks on the ferry, I was surprisingly fine

Being reunited with the Bullet, I dig this bad boy so much

Being entertained by a water ballerina! X

[G & A], out

Like a fat kid likes cake

4 August, Day 52: Jumping on dolphins

2009-08-04T08:00:00.000+01:00

Bit of a farce, in my humble opinion.

Woke up at sparrows fart, grabbed coffee and got my swimming gear on. I should have thought a bit about the weather, because the wind was blowing enough to create quite a bit of swell in the ocean. We get the snorkel gear and meet up with Ali the captain. By the time we launch, there are at least two other boats heading out with the same intention of “swimming with the dolphins”. We find a pod soon afterwards and start chasing them. More boats arrive, more gawking tourists. The whole thing starts feeling quite... shit, all of a sudden.

To try and paint a better picture, there were seven boats now, with two tourists each. One of us would spot the dolphins cresting the water as the head east and the air would fill with the smell of two-stroke as outboards rev and boats almost collide as they chase the pod down. You would then be instructed to jump into the water and swim like a bell-end, looking down into the water to try and “swim with the dolphins”. So you’re one of 14 OTHER star-struck schmucks trying to feel the closeness and awesomeness of “swimming with dolphins”. The dolphins (which I can imagine must be totally perplexed by this erratic behaviour) spend a short while in view before darting down into the darkness.

Coupled with this, as I’ve mentioned before, is some hectic surge and swell / waves from both the wind and the speeding boats, so you end up swallowing quite a bit of water from both jumping in the water at speed and water cresting into your snorkel. Once the dolphins disappear, you have to climb back into the boat and the chase starts again.

Oh, did I mention I get motion sick?

Anecdote: I get motion sick. And pissed off when I’m involved in a blatantly bullshit activity.

So over and above the waves, the wind, the other schmucks all rocking little digital cameras trying to capture the magic of the experience, the high speed chase and navy SEAL precision of jumping on top of the poor mammals on their morning stroll you ALSO run the very real risk of being run over and gutted by another boat. Being frappe’d by a 50HP outboard motor was not on my happy-fun-time list this morning. Disgusted, I instruct Ali to take us back after 20 minutes.

To be clear, it’s not the fact that I didn’t get to “swim with the dolphins”. I got to see them up close, and underwater a few times. But my idea of “swimming with the dolphins” was more idyllic. I thought we’d go out, find a pod and they’re in a playful mood, we’d park off, get wet and just observe, maybe splash around a bit and see what they do. If they come close enough (or if they INVITE you) you get to touch and maybe (if you’re REALLY, REALLY lucky) you get to hitch a ride on a dorsal fin. But this... farce, whatever you wanna call, with the hungry tourists chasing the poor animals down like paparazzi felt unnatural in the highest degree. It was nothing short of a violation and an intrusion. To top it off, it was a money making scheme and the locals where milking it.

I didn’t sign up for this shit.

Back at the hotel I refused to pay for anything like the sort and made my thoughts on the activity clear. I dunno, thinking about it again maybe I’m too damn sensitive about these things. Before we weighed anchor back at shore, Ali offered to take us out at 16:00 instead. There are times when there are dolphins heading back west in the afternoon, and no other boats and tension. So we agreed on that, since we were going to go snorkelling around that time anyway. If it’s more laid back and less rushing off after them, we’ll do it. Else, we bail and head for the reefs.

The rest of the day Annelie and I spent chilling by the pool and roasting a bit. Drank more cocktails and just did nothing. Mattie and Marietta arrived just before noon and suggested we stroll all the way east down the beach, since it was low tide and you can now reach the other resorts. So we join them and see quite a few interesting things in the tidal pools, lots of crabs and sea anemones. I pick up an old rusted steel rod and pick fights with crabs tucked into their little caves. Their strong once they “crab” hold of it. Get it? I said “crab” instead of “grab”. See what I did there?

Ok, let’s continue

We reach another very nice looking resort with a long pier extending out into the water, with what looks like a tanning area at the end. We check it out and are treated to what must be 10’s of thousands of fish underneath the structure. Splash around a bit in the water, wind is still out so water is rough, but shallow enough and very warm. Lunch time so we head to the resort to see if they have a restaurant. Very nice place, called the Zanzibar Dolphin View Paradise (WHO NAMES THESE THINGS??). It seems like there are 30 big houses (which we later checked out. Each house has 3 big rooms, en suite bathrooms, large open plan lounge with 37” LCD TV and fully decked out kitchen, a separate room to store luggage and an upstairs area which consists of another lounge and balcony area, with sea views and sun loungers. Some of them even have their own private pools! You can self cater or hire a private chef to cook all your meals while you stay), with a few more being built (9, in fact, I found out later).

More stats: they have 23 swimming pools in total. One big one in front of the restaurant, infinity pool looking out on the private beach. One in the spa (still being built, it’s also a HUGE Jacuzzi) and then the 21 little private pools at the villas. The hotel isn’t open yet, only launching in December, but they do accept walk in bookings and the restaurant was open. There were a few guests cruising around already. Villas sleep max of 6 people, but I reckon you can stuff 4 more kids into the store room (keep them out of your hair too...). Villas start at $250 - $400, season and location dependant. So for a pool villa right on the water, it’s more. But hey, 5 of your best mates, at say $250 for the whole joint per day. That’s a killer deal!

We head to the restaurant and place our orders. Fish (Marlin) and chips. Apart from the King fish, this is the BEST fish I’ve ever tasted! My goodness, so juicy and tender. Finish it all up and get ready for the long trek back. It’s high tide again so we can’t go back the way we came. Just as we exit the gate, a Suzuki 4x4 exits as well and offers us a lift. We gladly accept! It’s sooooooo hot! Turns out it’s the general manager of the Zanzibar, Collin. He’s a Swede and he’s been running island restaurants for a few years now, last few was in the Maldives. Pretty damn cool of him to hitch us a ride down the 2KM stretch to the Swahili!

Back at the hotel, we dip in the pool quickly before meeting up with Ali for the snorkelling. Head out a bit, no sign of dolphins, still a bit windy. As we do, I hear “SOUTH AFRICA” from one of the rooms. It’s the Chinese chick we met at Kendwa. We never introduced ourselves, but they knew that we were from South Africa. We wave and they scream something unintelligible over the wind. We nod and wave.

No sign of any dolphins, so we make the call to go snorkelling and Ali takes us all the way west, just past Karamba which we checked out a few days ago. Weigh anchor and we dive in. Meh. Low visibility, lots of surge. And, to top it all off, something starts stinging us. Little, teeny tiny jellyfish, in fact. The coral itself is all bleached and unappealing. I get to see a few interesting little fishies, but not in the great numbers like in the Comoros. I see a Scorpion fish, a little Manta Ray, lot’s of black and white fishies, a big, ugly yellow thing Annelie calls a “Paw-paw fish” and a few typical tropical fish. We get back to the boat and ask Ali to take us somewhere else. We move a bit back east and back in the water we go. Sea is getting very rough at this point, and more stinging. Annelie bails out and goes to wait on the boat. I decide fuckit, I’m here now and I’m going to enjoy it, whether I like it or NOT! So paddle around for another 20 minutes, swatting at stings on my legs, arms and neck before throwing in the towel. Today clearly wasn’t our day for water sports.

We thank Ali for his efforts anyways.

Back into the pool at the hotel to escape the stinging, and order more cocktails (A Lost Bikini, don’t remember what was innit) as stay there till the sun sets. Back to the room, shower and get dressed for supper. I invite the Chinese chicks, Qin and Tian (Chin and Tjuen) to join us. We spend the evening chatting about a wide range of topics and having drinks. More chat about our various travels and I share my terrible dolphin swimming exercise with them, since they want to do it tomorrow. I recommend they head out way way early, but if the wind is blowing like the morning, skip it. We swop out our details, turns out they may be in Cape Town near or around the time we’ll be there. So we offer to take them on a few tours around town if at all possible and they’re very stoked about that. They seem to be into wine, and I happen to know a little hood called Stellenbosch that’s been known to produce a few world class vinos.

Go to bed at around 23:00, run back to the restaurant to get my camera I left hanging over the chair (which I NEVER do, and the ONE time I do, I almost lose the damn thing).

Checking out tomorrow and heading back to the ferry. Our time in Zanzibar has come to an end.

Highlights: Meeting up with the Chinese chicks again, they’re cool!

Cocktails. Lots of em

World Class Fish and Chips!

[G & A], out

Ready or not, here I come

3 August, Day 51: More doing nothing

2009-08-03T07:59:00.000+01:00

Phone up Chollo and organise a lift to the Swahili. Pickup at 10:00. Go have breakfast, more fuckwit staff members with attitude problems. I openly mention the pathetic service we’ve been getting after one of the baboons that work there treats another guest like dirt. Everyone around me agrees, it’s the worst they’ve had on the island. WTF??

Finish breakfast (when it eventually arrives, and after they get the order right). Pack up and head for reception, pay the bill. Meet these 2 cool Chinese chicks, who Annelie mentioned earlier was having more issues with the unhelpful staff. All they want is to look at a room, but they were told to come back in 20 minutes. Which they did, and they were told to wait some more. Then they were told that the room they can see can’t be seen right now since it’s being cleaned. Then when they came back they were told the room has now been sold. What. The. Fuck?? So now they’re waiting again, for another room...

We share our experiences on the southern hotels and resorts, I point to a few spots on a nearby map and give them tips on bargaining with these fools, as well as taxis and so forth. Chollo arrives at 11:00 and we introduce him to the Chinese chicks, say goodbye and they swop out numbers. Always good to have a number for a good taxi. We load up and trek down to the south, should be about a 2 hour drive. Mariah Carey in the car today, I don’t care. Annelie sleeps in the back, we drive through a hectic storm, heavy rain, more police stops, more harassment.

By 13:40 or so we reach our destination and off load our luggage. We arrange with Chollo that we will need a bigger taxi for 4 people with luggage in two days and we will phone him tomorrow with the time. All at a steal for 44 000 TSH.

Mattie has bargained us a good room and we check-in and go say hi. He went swimming with dolphins this morning at 06:00 and tells us of his adventure. Also went snorkelling yesterday and it sounds very exciting. We go check out the restaurant and order some chow and cocktails. The rest of the day we lay by the pool and chill. I asked the chef what his speciality is and without missing a beat he says seared King fish. I order that and it arrives on a griddle still sizzling! Man, best meal I’ve had on the island!

Anecdote: the King fish is usually fresh from the days catch, and it had no bones, so...

Tuck in at 21:00. We organised some dolphin swimming action for tomorrow at 06:00. Annelie’s ear is still in pain, but she’s been sticking some Vicks in there and keeping in sealed with a tissue (which I have to keep reminding her to do). She’s also taking some anti-inflammatory to keep the swelling down. It never ends with her, she always seems broken... But she doesn’t care, she wants to swim with the dolphins anyway. I shall reserve comment.

Highlights: Happy to be away from the drag of Kendwa rocks. Actually quite nice to be in a chilled spot away from so many people for a change.

[G & A], out

You know you don’t make it easy for someone like me

2 August, Day 50: Kendwa Rocks (sorta)

2009-08-02T07:56:00.000+01:00

09:04 – wake up. Snooze

09:45 – wake up. Snooze

09:55 – wake up, jump out of bed not to miss breakfast, which ends at 10:00! Good thing they’re on Africa time

10:00 – place order, eat breakfast. Annelie is complaining about ear ache. Oh, and she got the results back from her last visit to Karen Hospital, all clear! Walter has left the building.

10:25 – 4^th cup of coffee

10:30 – on the beach, chilling

11:23 – go for swim

11:41 – tanning

12ish – food, takes forever to arrive, bar not even busy. Deal with kak barman again

13ish – chilling

14:50 – walkies, swim

15:34 – sleeping at bungalow

16:45 – wake up, barely. Annelie goes for massage

17:25 – Wake up (again), get dressed, , I grab a Cohiba Buristo PHAT cigar and stroll down to the beach. Order a sex on the beach, change it to a double Glenn Fiddich, no ice.

17:45 – light up, whiskey arrives. Feel like a king

18:20 – Annelie joins me, watches the sunset somewhat, makes a suggestion we go swimming. Rush to the bungalow and grab our swimming gear

18:29 – in the water, coloured red from the giant red orb that is the sun. Watch the sunset in the warm water, almost totally submersed. EPIC.

18ish – Back in bungalow, shower, get dressed for dinner walk down to fancy no access restaurant built on top of sea

19:07 – have to quick talk a security guard who won’t let us even near the place. Says Annelie’s skirt is too short (it is), and we are not residents to the hotel. We convince him we only “want to look”, since I know once we get there we can get in. He reluctantly agrees to escort us.

19:13 – get to restaurant, smiling concierge invites us for dinner, “no problem” (told ya)

19:20 – bashful guard gives us “visitors passes”. I explain we understand, he’s just doing his job

Still 19ish – grab cocktails at the massive bar / entertainment area. Watch little fishes in the water below the pylons, and birds trying to catch them

19ish – play a game of pool (I win)

20:03 – move to restaurant, very posh! Seated, get welcome drink and bread, menus. We order some wine, Nederberg Sauvignon Blanc, 2008, delicious. No starters, I order the seafood platter (lobster, tuna steaks, king prawn, with basmati rice), Annelie gets the grilled rolled chicken with noodles. The restaurant is seafood Thai fusion. Taiwanese chef sends us prawn a dainty piece of prawn toast, very smartly decorated, with his compliments. This too, is delicious! Bread accompanied by freshly made peanut butter (??), crushed black olives, salted butter and olive oil. (yeah, delicious!)

20:15 – cling cling, KAMPAI! Wine goes down very well.

20:40 – food arrives, and it’s a LOT. Feel like I want to take a pictures, but afraid it may not be PC. So I don’t. Annelie and I swop out some food (probably also not PC)

21ish – the table of snobby Brits next to us are served their food. They ALL take pictures of their food. Meh.

21ish – food finished (finally! It was a lot). Drink wine

22ish – finish wine, move to check out the entertainment. The entertainment is bad. Very bad. We move to the shisha lounge, remove shoes, park on big soft couches. Lounge is very very nice, high ceiling with lots of Persian carpets covering the floor and what almost looks like a private lounge area in the middle. A woman dressed like a genie brings us menus and we order apple flavoured molasses, Turkish coffee and something with frangelico in it for Annelie.

22:15 – Shisha arrives, we are implored to “enjoy our flavour”.

22:16 – we enjoy our flavour, puffing away on apple molasses

22:30 – our drinks arrive, very spicy and hot. The lounge has a really nice ambience, with Arabic beats playing softly (and being overpowered by the terrible entertainment next door)

23:20 – all done, pay bill, retrieve shoes and walk back down the pier towards land.

23ish – we sneak up all the way to the hotel reception. Great Jumping Giant Hotels Batman, this place is a small fiefdom! Another big restaurant on the hill and more swimming pools, including a huge water tower that resembles the Afrikaans Taal monument in Paarl.

23ish – Annelie and I stroll down the long beach in the bright moonlight, sit in the sand and stare at the stars and surf.

00ish – back at the bungalow, all is quiet at the bar area.

00ish – in bed

It was a good day. We decided that instead of staying at Kendwa Rocks another day we’ll bail for the Swahili tomorrow. Nice place, perfectly located on the beach and so on, but the staff irritate us and it’s beginning to cramp our style. They can be assholes, what’s frustrating is that they don’t even try to be helpful or nice.

Highlights: Spending a romantic evening with the wife. And, she paid for everything! Xx

[G & A], out

Tick tick tock, fools on the block

1 August, Day 49: Due North

2009-08-01T07:54:00.000+01:00

After breakfast we finish up our packing (so hot, so HOT!!) and jump on the intertube to check out the places in the north. I bail to find an ATM, get TOTALLY lost, get back to the hotel about 40 minutes later, head back to the room, shower and cool down under the aircon and grab Annelie to show me where the damned ATM was (she has a much keener sense of direction than I do).

Stand in a long queue to eventually be able to draw money in 100 000 TSH sessions (100K TSH is not worth much... so this takes a long time to get to 400K). While we were waiting in the queue Annelie plays taxi drivers off each other until we get the best deal to head north, $25 down from 80. Good girl.

Back to the hotel and say our goodbyes. M&M are heading south to Coral rock while we aim for a few places in the north. The Jah-Mobile arrives at 09:30, a very chilled and laid back, soft spoken Zanzibarian-Rastafarian loads our bags. We head out of Stone Town and make our way north for about an hour and a half. Gangsta rap plays on the stereo, he hands me a cd pouch to change the music, I decline and turn it up. In the Jah-Mobile, with the tinted windows and Rasta stickers the music has a calming effect on us. I do feel an urge for a drive by shooting from time to time, but I override the sensation. Irey.

He gets pulled over at every police check (well, duh) and they smack talk that Swahili before letting us move along. What’s up with the po-po, yo?? Can’t keep a good brother locked down, you know wha’ i’m sayin? No doubt.

Flaming Tree lodge is first on the list but it’s a dud. Chollo (our Rasta brother from another mother) suggest we skip Nungwi all together and head to Kendwa, which has larger beaches. So we aim for the middle of several sites, called Kendwa Rocks. We arrive there just before 12 and check out a room. The staff is either very busy, or very rude. So it’s hard to get a straight answer but we eventually get shown a room, one of only three available. Huge beach, HUGE! Stretches for miles in each direction, bungalows ringing a large cordoned off section of sand with the bar and dive centre about 50 meters away on the beach proper. So you can pretty much walk along the beach to the other resorts. I stall our aloof an rather rude host while Annelie runs to the other places to see what they have to offer. At $85 per night, this place is quite overpriced for what you get. But you can’t beat it with location and the bar and beach area is full of people, so there’s lots of life here.

Annelie eventually comes back panting saying between breaths we should take the room. Every other place is fully booked or won’t allow walk-in bookings. Yikes! So we just manage to secure the overpriced bungalow as 2 more parties walk in and ask about it. The reception area is a mess of bags and travellers, including our own bags and bodies. A porter carries our concrete slab to the room and we strip down into our swim gear post haste. Can you believe we haven’t been in this glorious water yet?? We immediately rectify the situation. Bath water, is all I can say. Clear, clean, warm bath water. Back at the restaurant we order cocktails and pizza, play checkers (I lose) and kick back in some of the numerous hammocks and sun beds. There is a ship, or rather half a ship beached on the sand, called the “Jafrezy Queen”, which also happens to be the name of the bar/restaurant here.

We take a long stroll up and down the beach to the other resorts. There is a massive one on the end of the stretch to the right, but it looks very exclusive and has a HUGE restaurant built right onto the water, perched on wooden stilts. It forms part of an even bigger hotel and pool area starting from the beach and climbing about 3 layers into the hillside. Security informs us that we need to be fully clothed to even go to reception. Not today, bub. Head back to the Kendwa rocks and chill.

There is a party tonight, with acrobatics and fire dancers. After another intense session of doing absolutely fokall we shower and head down to the bar. Here we meet two Brits from close to Manchester and chat away, order more drinks and so on. As luck would have it, another guy sits next to us and ask us in Afrikaans “so where are we from?”. Long story short, but he flew in to meet up with his cousin who is here for one day. He’s cousin is travelling down from London, also by 4x4! So we meet the cousin and it turns out that this is the party another friend of mine in London told me about! It also turns out that we know the same friend from SA Promo, and that he does the video for some of their gigs, while I have done some photography. Small damn world, what are the chances of us two sitting right next to each other, on a little island the size of a relative dot on the globe, on a Saturday night at 21:40, a clear sky evening of the 1^st of August 2009? And his name is Gerhardus. Blows my mind.

We chat about his experiences so far, travelling through Egypt (or, as he put it, the Ass end of the world. I’d have to say I think Dar Es Salaam is the Ass end of the world...), I share a few cool camp sites they should check out since they’ll be heading through Malawi and Zambia. Sadly, he has to go just before 22:00 because they’re leaving early tomorrow. I hope he keeps in touch, Annelie gave him a business card. If not, no worries, I’ll no doubt run into him in London :)

Weird man, weird.

The acrobats were surprisingly good! I grabbed my camera and did what I do best: photographing live shows. They did dome CRAZY shit man! Africans main pride and joy is their physical strength and acumen, and these boys where clearly quite strong and flexible. After the show, one of the guys an albino named Tashatel asks to see me after the show. Later at the bar we exchange details and I offer to send them the banging pics I took of their antics. They call themselves “Kirimanjaro Acrobats”. Very cool, they certainly got the party started as by this point the music was jumping and everybody got down. The whole bar and beach area adjacent to it was filled up. Met these stupid drunk Irish lads and spoke of river rafting the Nile and shared war stories. Good times. Chat more with the brits from Manchester and we had a really good time. Our mission was to find a little life and excitement and we where most successful in this regard.

We eventually track back to our little bungalow by the sea just before 04:00 and pass out. Tomorrow we look forward to doing a whole lotta nothin’.

Island style, baby.

Highlights: Jamming

Grooving

Finding a little slice of heaven. Although the staff is unhelpful and the service terrible.

[G & A], out

Kuwepo saba ninjas ndani hii picha = there are 7 ninjas in this picture

31 July, Day 48: Road piggies

2009-07-31T07:52:00.000+01:00

After breakfast Mattie, Annelie and I head out to find a motorbike rental shop. We get lost, of course. This alleys have a way of doing that, it messes with your sense of direction. Even with the map we bought at a bookstore yesterday we can’t figure out where to go. We ask a few guys sitting on a step to a mosque about “scooter”, gesturing in a “vroom-vroom” fashion. One of them instructs us to “come” and starts walking. And walking. And walking. We stop and ask him where he is going and he’s just “come, here, this way”. And keeps going. So we follow.

After more walking we come across what is probably a main road. Lots of traffic in dual carriage way lanes, cutting each other off and not indicating. Next to it is a petrol station and a few shops with parking lots. Our guide takes us to 3 guys sitting casually on some bikes, a hodgepodge of old Vespas, mopeds and a newish looking 125cc Chinese bike. Some quick Swahili before one guy introduces himself as “you rent bike?” I say yes, yes we “rent bike”. Smiles, “$45”. I guffaw! I don’t think I’ve ever “guffawed”, but it was a natural thing and the situation warranted a hearty guffaw. I say no no, I didn’t want to buy the bike, I wanted to rent it. He pretends that he misunderstood and that we meant that we wanted to rent a 4x4, gesturing to the busted Suzuki standing off to the right. I re-iterate that we want Vespas, and the price is $20. He agrees. Problem is, there only seems to be one Vespa. Mattie wants to rent the newish looking 125cc, but they say no because it doesn’t have any registration tags (we can’t tell the difference). Meanwhile, one guy gets on the Vespa and drives off. I ask what that’s all about and the other guy says he’s going to fetch another scooter, just wait.

Guy comes back with a scrambler instead. Mattie approves.

Annelie produces the international driving licenses (we went through HELL to organise these, so it’s about time we really use them. Thanks mom :) xx) and fills in what looks like a contract form. All the dates are from 2007, and there are a few rather interesting clauses in there which my wife changes and alters with impunity.

In the meantime, the Vespa dude and I head over the busy main road to the dusty parking lot on the other side for a tutorial.

Anecdote: I’ve never driven (ridden??) a Vespa before. And they seem to come in manual transmission only.

For the uninitiated (like myself), here’s the layout:

Left lever on left handle (what should be a brake lever on a bicycle) is the clutch

The left throttle is marked off from 1 -4 with a little dot marked as neutral

The right handle bar has the throttle and front brake (front brake doesn’t work on this, er, “particular model”... this is not by design...)

On the deck of the scooter, by your right foot is a brake pedal (which works. Which is nice.)

The heads up panel has a speedometer and a fuel gauge (which I later discovered doesn’t work either. And then all of a sudden, it does, and it indicates that it’s Tuesday. Which it wasn’t. Not very helpful for a fuel gauge.)

The rest of the body (including that of my own) was in remarkably good shape (that’s cus I work out)

So the action would be to step on the brake, clutch-and-twist into “dot” and kick start this piggy (the “start” button didn’t work. Just like on a Windows PC). I follow these instructions. I fail horribly, as the Vespa shoots forward. I guess I didn’t have it in neutral. Try again, and again, finally manage to start the damn thing! W00t!

Now what? Ok, clutch-and-twist to “1”, slowly release clutch and throttle slowly. I clutch and twist and nearly rip my head of as the little pocket rocket jumps forward before stalling. Twist-and-dot, kick start, twist-and-turn-to-DOT and kick start, try again (this is looking bad) and third time lucky. Ok, twist-and-1^st, pole-pole, POLE-POLE!... haha! We have movement! Very jerkily, the rental and I shoot off into the park lot, legs spread eagle and what must have been a really surprised look on my face. I regain my composure and put my legs into a seated position. Dude, I’m like totally riding a Vespa... so, how do I stop again?? Try the right brake, no dice. Thought I’d try it again just to be sure. Didn’t work the second time either. Step on the brake, bad idea, I’m still in 1^st. Bike sputters and bitches to a stall. At this stage, most of the parking lot was my own, since every pedestrian in a 50 meter radius wisely left the area. That list includes my instructor.

Twist-and-dot, kick that piggy, starts! Twist-and-one, pole-pole, gas the throttle, jerk forward (but less so), head off back to the instructor spread eagle legs finding a home on the floor board. Clutch in slowly, pull front brake (old habits die hard), forget that, step on the brake pedal, come to a stop... eventually. That concludes today’s tutorial.

Yikes.

Now it’s my turn to drive over the busy main road, cars and bikes flicking this way and that. I wish I could say I did so gracefully, but I do eventually pluck up enough courage to make it across. (why did the chicken cross the road?)

There’s a gas station right here and Mattie is already busy filling up the monster scrambler. I go over to Annelie to sign the form, hand over $20 deposit per bike (down from $100 per bike. Never try to out negotiate my wife) and we get a helmet for her. Which I believe is the same kind used for horse riding. My own helmet is the instructors’, and it’s not in any better shape.

Back to the fuel station and the Vespa (who I have now christened “Betty”) is good to go. The instructor asks me when will I bring it back. I reply casually tomorrow morning, 10:00 (it was about 09:45, and we have the bikes for 24 hours). He gets a look on his face of a man that’s walking home tonight. Something fell neatly into place at this point: this wasn’t a rental company. These where these guys very own personal modes of transportation. HA! That’s probably why they wouldn’t let us rent the new 125cc, since it’s owner probably didn’t want some knuckle head tourist trashing his pride and joy. Heh heh heh.

So now comes the hard part: where the hell was our hotel?? Annelie jumps on the back and I realise that I struggle to keep myself upright on this thing, never mind a passenger. She asks if I’m ok and I reply in all the macho I can muster “of course, woman!”. Twist-and-sot, kick, start, pole-pole, really pole-pole as the scrambler and Vespa meanders into the tight alleys and corridors of Stone Town, honking at pedestrians and other Vespas as we go. We get horribly lost and hit at least one dead end but we kind of make it there. By this stage I’ve got the clutch control kind of down. Early morning but it’s already sweltering! We go upstairs and grab our stuff, but not before spending 10 minutes under the sweet aircon in the room. Back downstairs, Marietta is not impressed. It takes some convincing to get her onto the scrambler, but Mattie eventually manages.

I locked the Vespa when I parked it and can’t get it unlocked! After struggling for about 2 minutes the hotel manger (who was standing outside with an amused look on his face) comes over and offers some help. He removes the key from the storage box in the front and places it into the ignition, switches it on and unlocks the steering.

Doh.

He asks us with a worried look if we have international driving licenses. We reply of course we do! We’re men! I think he was really concerned we won’t be back to pay for our rooms.

Twist-and-dot, kick, jump forward, damnit, twist-and-DOTDamnYou, kick, start, horse riding helmet on and I ease Betty into 1^st. No sweat. Only, I was.

Back into the busy, dark corridors and alleys, wires sticking out overhead, trash in corners. Turn into another dead end, lot’s of Muslim men screaming at us (oops), twist-and-dot, reverse (I make little “beep-beeep-beeep”-ing sounds in my head), double back and head down another street, honk honk! Crazy white boys with bikes coming down the road, get out of the way! We come across a market that reeks of fish guts, spot a 1.5 meter reef shark lying on the pavement (charming), inch our way through traffic (people, carts, Vespas mostly). Then the Vespa dies. Twist-and-dot, kick. Nada. Kick. Nothing. KIIIIICK... dead. Crap. People everywhere looking at us, scrambler idling behind me. KICK!!!

Mmmm, now what? Put the bike on the kick stand and try a few more time. A local finally releases me from my limbo and offers help. Takes the key, opens the seat compartment, checks if there’s fuel in the bike. He is genuinely surprised to find the tank full. He seems to approve. He gets on the bike, takes it off the kickstand and leans is all the way left. Then all the way right, and left again. Aaaaah. “I’ve flooded it, haven’t I?”. Man nods. Kicks, sputters, kicks again and Betty springs back to life. Betty chugs out a ton of smoke. I thank the stranger, in the most macho way I can. Recompose, no pressure, I now have to pull away without stalling in from of everyone. I do so beautifully. Well, it was very beautiful in my head.

On with the show! We eventually reach the main road where we “rented” the bikes. That map Annelie and I bought a few days ago comes in handy since Mattie’s GPS seems to be useless in this place. We agreed that we want to take the road south to Kizimkazi, head up the east coast and cut back through the middle to Stone Town. Speaking to a rental guy yesterday he reckoned it would take all day to do the whole island, so we’re only doing half. We want to also check out the resorts down there to determine which one we’ll move to tomorrow.

Back into this mad traffic, Annelie repeating “oh shit, oh shit, oh shit” like some sacred mantra in my ears. Betty roars onto the madness and I even indicate “left” as I turn “left” into the junction that should bring us to the southern road. At this stage, I’ve even discovered 2^nd gear and we manage a whopping 40 km/h. We make a wrong turn and stop, inspect the map. A local asks us where we wanna be, we say south, he says we must head the other direction and hands us his business card for tours. It’s during this turn around action that we lose Mattie and Marietta somewhere. We decide to carry on, maybe they’re ahead of us (they weren’t, we later realised). I was also seriously getting the hang of this and kick it into 3^rd gear. Still going 40 though, traffic is thick, but Betty sounds more content in 3^rd. Before long we clear the city and head into the centre of the island. Very beautiful here, lots of trees line the streets. We pass a few farms and forests, the National park on the island (LOTS of colobus monkeys), a Butterfly farm where we stop to ask for directions and many lush, almost overgrown pastures. The landscape changes to predominantly palm and banana trees as we approach the ocean.

We have to go off road just a bit to reach our first stop, Karamba. Betty doesn’t do off-road, and she almost kicks out from under us. Pole-Pole. Very nice place, it has its own private beach, big bar area, hammocks in the trees and (I’m getting tired of mentioning this) turquoise, clear-as-tap-water ocean lapping gently on white sandy beach. PS: I say sand, but it’s of such a fine texture you could make baby powder from it.

Anecdote: yes, it’s good to be the king.

We ask about pricing and availability before heading off again. I’ve 1^st down now and deftly swing Betty around and nurse her over the loose sand before collecting Annelie (who looks friggin’ ridiculous with the horse riding helmet).

Our next stop is a place called the Swahili beach resort. After shaking the papasi we picked up outside the gate we move to reception. Very nice, upper class joint, huge rooms with sea views, but no beach really as the water is high tide and breaks right onto the break wall in front of the hotel. Big pool though. We bargain down the prices of the various rooms, as we do. Hop on Betty onto the next place, La Madrugada Beach resort, owned and run by a very elderly looking Spaniard and his very young looking Taiwanese wife. Also a nice place, big pool, bar, aircon, etc. Price is right, since they “like South Africans”. We SMS Mattie with our location and agree to meet back a few km’s at a junction to our next pitstop, hopefully we can get some lunch too.

At the junction, in the searing heat I hop off the little Vespa that could and give Annelie a rundown of how to drive it. Being much shorter that I, she has a wonderfully difficult time kick starting the bike, even with all her weight on the lever. I step her trough the clutch-and-twist thing, the brake and so on, before kick starting it for her. Lots of false starts and she goes through the motions of learning the sweet spot for the clutch and getting the coordination down. I video the entire process, of course, in between laughter. Eventually she gets the bike going and I run next to her like a dad with his 5 year old daughter learning to ride her first bike. Now comes the hard part: stopping. She too pulls the right brake lever before remembering about the brake pedal and stops abruptly. Annelie laughs her ass off. Once she’s recovered we try again, I kick start the bike and she pulls off jerkily again and keeps going, screaming all the way (screams of joy, of course). I think she even managed 2^nd gear. By this time Mattie joins us, Marietta clinging onto him for dear life. Apparently the scrambler keeps dying on them when they stop and won’t kick start again, so they were having a hard time. Now regrouped, we head off to another place, Coral Rock. The most fantastical view we’ve seen so far, Coral’s bar area is all open windows and see through plastic. Nothing but turquoise fills your peripheral, it’s like being at the IMAX. We stop and have some chow, King Fish, fresh and delicious! Wash it down with a Savannah (drinking and driving, tut tut). Mattie and co checks out the rooms, seems like they’re happy with the place and book in for tomorrow. We say we’ll keep looking.

PS: I’m very comfortable riding Betty by this stage and we hit 60 on average, with 80 on the long stretches. 80 Km/h seems to be the top end of Betty’s ability. The speedo is marked off to 120, but I think this is very generous. Maybe on the day she rolled out of the factory, on a 30 degree downhill slop, driven by a bulimic 40KG horse jockey, with a gentle 50 km/h backwind she may have managed that speed. I do manage to coax her to 87 at some stage, but downhill, and with a gentle backwind. It also dawned on me, sometime during the day, what will happen if we came off the bike? There is NO ONE around. And then I thought, what are my travel insurance details? Who do I phone? And did Mattie pack his Epipen, for in case he gets stung by a bee? (Answer: no).

I digress. After lunch we’re back on the bikes heading in separate directions. Annelie and I check out one more fancy 5 star hotel, don’t even remember the name but it was fully booked anyways. Full of pensioners and young kids, meh. Our last attempt to view more resorts hits a brick wall, literally. The road on our map is cut off by a very high, very unpleasant looking fortification. We are forced to turn around and double back, to the main road. We try and get to more resorts but eventually end up at the gates of a very large private residence. It’s getting late and we still need to ride all the way back to Stone Town so we go for it. We need to cut through forest and little houses to get back to road, lots of little dead ends too (I ask Annelie more than once “where the fuck are we??”).

Betty doesn’t DO OFFROAD!

I nurse the protesting Vespa back to glorious asphalt and we head north a bit before cutting west across the middle of the island. Very scenic drive again, lots of trees and green to enjoy. Pass a few traffic stops, smile and wave. We fill the petrol tank with another litre of gas, just to be safe (fuel gauge reckons it’s 15 minutes past Winchester cheese).

A few kilos out of town I stop the bike and hand it over to Annelie. We go through the motions again, laughing our asses off. She eventually kinda gets the hang of clutch again and I hop on the back. What’s the worst that can happen? She JERKS us into motion, hesitates half a second and gives it horns! Away we go, into 2^nd and even 3^rd gear. Annelie squeals in delight! I hang on for dear life. Once I relax a bit, and get blood running back to my hands I get the camera out and snap some pics and video. Pretty cool :)

Once the traffic starts to thicken again as we reach town we swop since I’m more comfortable with both traffic (cycling in London is hectic!) and with handling Betty. We get lost and have to ask for directions a few times but we reach a road that looks familiar. I comment that this is the road with the taxi ranks. I didn’t want to drive the road with the taxi ranks. And whad’ya know, here’s the gas station and the spot where we rented the bikes! The scrambler is there already and we ease Betty into the spot next to it. It was a sad goodbye, I really enjoyed that. We hand over the keys and receive our $20 deposit. It’s almost sunset so we make our way to Mercury’s to enjoy it. Breath taking yellows and reds splash the entire landscape of clear water and boats. After the show we head back to the hotel for some brandewyn and coke (we have a fridge in the room, awesomeness). Meet up with Marietta and Mattie and head back down to Mercury’s for dinner at around 19:00. Had the baked onion soup (onion sound, covered with bread and cheese and grilled) and more King fish (not as nice as Coral Rock).

After dinner Annelie and I head to Livingstone’s for some drinks. They have a live band here tonight and they’re very good. Lots of people around, everyone having a good time. And as luck would have it, Annelie runs into an old friend from her university days at Stellenbosch. They make chit chat and catch up, I can’t be asked and get another drink and observe the crowd. Lots of interesting characters out tonight. Lots of white, rhythm deprived tourists trying to dance to African music. Lots of Africans moving like jellyfish to the phat beats.

Tomorrow we need to pack up and head to another place. Annelie mentioned that since it was the weekend we should really try and find a more happening spot and that the south is too chilled. The north beaches are renowned for their wild beach parties. So that’s what we’ll do. Same game as before, we’ll park off with the huge bags at one place and she can go and find us lodgings.

Few more drinks later we stumble back to the Asmimi hotel, again through very dark and gloomy alley ways, shaking off papasi. We wake up the guard to open the door for us (some guard) and get to our room around 02:00.

It was a good day. I dream of Betty.

Highlights: Touring one half of Zanzibar!

Learning how to drive (ride?) a scooter

Wearing my Ray-bans, because catching a kamikaze bug at 80 km/h with your face isn’t as fun as it sounds.

[G & A], out

It’s always better when we’re together

30 July, Day 47: Stone town

2009-07-30T07:51:00.000+01:00

The first thing we do is to get some breakfast going and pack up the tents. The taxi picks us up at 08:20 only. The driver does manage to squeeze four people’s luggage into his car (no mean feat). Back across the ferry, driving on the sidewalk for some whiles, as taxis do.

This time we are quite prepared for the papasi when we arrive at the Zanzibar ferry offices. They still don’t take no for an answer and tempers flare. We are lead into the Sea Star’s offices behind a gate and manage to buy tickets. Having some time to kill, Mattie and I venture out to try and exchange some Kenyan Shillings to Tanzanian shillings. Would you believe that NO bank (and we tried several) would do the exchange?? Even when the counter is clearly marked “beraue de change”? We do eventually locate a small shop that would exchange the currency and complain about all the banks.

Back at the offices in time for boarding. We cast off just before 12:00 and make our 2 hour journey to Zanzibar.

Finally, at around 14:30 we dock in Stone Town. Customs and immigration (I thought Zanzibar was part of Tanzania??) is a joke, but we go through the paces. By 15:00 we’re roaming the streets. Lots of activity around a park area. Turns out we arrived on the official opening of the newly rehabilitated (????) Park. Lots of people and security and official convoys (which almost succeed in running me over. Twice). Walk past Mercury’s on the right, named after Freddie Mercury since he was born and raised on the island. Think his family moved to India and then Britain after that. Very nice place, right on the beach and overlooking the ferry docks, lots of dhow’s and other boats in the water. The water itself is stunning, just light blues and turquoise with white sands, palm trees everywhere. Everything you imagine a tropical island to be, basically :)

The strategy is to locate a hotel and we aim for the Clove hotel first. No luck, it’s full. So instead of lugging these heavy bags around town looking for rooms we take a breather at a restaurant across the hotel and have some lunch. Mattie and Annelie head off in two different directions to find us lodgings while Marietta and I stay with the bags. They eventually return with their findings and after some deliberation we decide on a new place called the Asmimi hotel. Winding through small corridors and old, multi-storey buildings we kind of make our way there with all our gear.

Checkin, shower, relax! What a mission. Not really, it’s just that it’s so damn hot! Good thing the room has aircon.

About Stone Town: it’s a weird place. Many, many many alleys and tight spots winding into each other, lots of activity in the form of people, beggars, scooters, bikes, little Muslim kids returning or going to mosque, prayer calls, the smell of garbage and fish, tourists, papasi, a few cars and taxis, rental shops, more markets. Beyond the din of people is the ocean with it’s perfect colour and fishing boats etc. I’m failing to see its charm though. Many folks we spoke to mentioned that it’s their favourite part of Zanzibar. So far, it’s a ghetto, dotted with upscale 4 and 5 star bars and restaurants where the locals can NEVER afford to go. I’m weird like that, but it feels a bit... wrong. Not unsafe, just, I dunno. Maybe I was expecting something else. It’s early days, it could grow on me.

Before dinner Annelie and I explore some more and have ice cream and one Italian place. Kids playing soccer on the beach, sunset spoiling us rotten. We also find out about motorbike rentals, $20 pp, per day. On the way back we happen past many top, top hotels including Africa House. I pass the manager’s office which was open and call Annelie over. There, on the lady’s desk is a tiny little colobus monkey playing with papers and jumping from table to chair. Annelie effectively melts. After intros (the monkey’s name is Lady) Annelie and the monkey play a bit while we make chit chat with the manager. She happens to be South African also, married to a local man (which I guess was the guy sitting in the office behind her. I have to drag Annelie away from Lady before making our way back to Asmimi.

Had dinner at Livingstone’s, RIGHT on the beach. We where there earlier but now 2 ferries seemed to have docked there (no, there isn’t a slipway) and a big road grader (those massive road working vehicles) is beached in the sand. More trucks are unloading from the ferry and they charge at great speed up the hill, some even make it. So it was dinner and a show! The managed to dislodge the grader at one point, only to discover they don’t have fuel left to even start the thing. Heh heh heh, crazy Zanzibarians. All the drama was over by the time we finish our meal. I had the crab, by the way. I needed a manual to eat the damn thing. I think I may have wasted good crab.

Highlights: Zanzibar! Although Stone Town hasn’t charmed me yet.

[G & A], out

Poa kichizi kama ndizi = cool like a green banana

29 July, Day 46: Wild wild East

2009-07-29T07:50:00.000+01:00

Annelie and I spent the evening after dinner till well into 01:00 repacking a bag for Zanzibar. We settled on one of the big luggage bags and one bag with my camera gear. We started off a bit late though, 09:00, about an hour late. No matter, good road and good weather. I realise now that I was right about Tanga, it’s quite a beautiful city. And most of the way we drove to the hotel is actually next to the ocean. So very scenic views on the way out.

The road to Dar was very packed with all manner of trucks again. Annelie was driving and she did me proud, she managed to duck and weave our way through all the chaos with determination and gusto of an F1 driver. We reach the city just after 13:30. And then full stop, as we enter gridlock. The route into the city we took also runs past a big mutatu rank, so a great many busses and taxis are pushing into the stream from the right. The GPS eventually guides us to were the ferries should be, but so much chaos! We decide to go back around the block and park to find out what the deal is, while Marietta and Annelie wait with the cars.

I read about the papasi in the lonely planet a few days ago. I think it’s quite a coincidence that “papasi” sounds almost like “paparazzi”. Papasi means “tick” in Swahili. Mattie and I are swamped by at least 15 people all talking at once! In all the noise it’s very hard to figure out where we need to go or what to believe, as each of these guys want to lead us off into another “office” where we can “get all the information”. Sheesh. And in-between this I need to calm Mattie down, before he rips someone’s head off. They certainly are persistent. Eventually after some run around to one papasi “office” (which we didn’t enter since it looked like a cave) we turned back to what seemed like the main offices (at least they have signage!!). Lots of frustration from the papasi, “we don’t trust them”, “this is not South Africa” and just getting very aggressive. Man, even the fucking guy in the official office instructs us to come in and “wait, just wait” while he phones someone. Again, ALL we wanted was freaking information!! And this guy was clearly phoning a friend for some kind of commission. We manage to just talk to a new girl as she arrives at the office (not knowing why we are here) and she spills the beans. The other dude says something to her in Swahili afterwards, which I didn’t understand, but the gist was that she spoiled his business opportunity.

Off to another office to find out what it will cost to take the cars over. Too expensive, and they can only accommodate us on Friday. No good. It’s 15:20 already. Back to the cars, meet with the girls (more papasi trail us). Another guy wants to take us to a campsite and then sell us ferry tickets for tomorrow and he’ll bring us back here and and and. Annelie runs off into one direction (without telling me... grrrr.) and finds out about storing the 4x4’s in a hotel parking lot. In the end we call it a day, since we still need to find a safe place for the cars and we’re tired and it’s late. We aim the GPS for the Makadi campsite, which one of the papasi mentioned before (but we know how to find it, so we don’t need his help). We drive a few blocks down to another ferry since the camp is on the other side of the bay.

By 16:30 we roll into the camp and it’s a small oasis compared to what we got stuck in. It’s also still so hot and humid. The camp is situated right next to the beach, little bandas perched on the beach. We take a time out and take a swim to cool down first in the sea and rinse in the pool. Setup our tents just beyond the bandas. There are quite a few overlander trucks here (about 8). We organise that we can leave our cars here, for 2000 TSH per day and get a taxi for tomorrow at 08:00 so that we can get back in time, over the ferry, to the ferry to Zanzibar at 11:00.

Have another braai to rid ourselves of the last bits of meat we have in the fridge, since we’re switching them off while we’re on the island. We left the tent cover off tonight so that we can lay on the stretchers and look at the stars.

In the end I think it worked out ok, since come to think of it we would have arrived in Zanzibar at around 18:00 had we taken the 16:00 ferry. So it would have been dark already and we don’t have any hotels booked. And now we are quite pleased with a nice camp where the cars are safe. We still have about 7 days in paradise, so one less day isn’t a train smash! :)

Highlights: Knowing when to call it quits and not forcing something that wasn’t to be

[G & A], out

What am I supposed to do?

28 July, Day 45: The Sunshine Chill

2009-07-28T14:20:00.000+01:00

Oversleep a tad, but we’re at the breakfast table by 08:00. Basic affair of 2 eggs and toast, coffee. Charles, our waiter is very friendly. We pack up and get going, it’s another 250 km’s to the coast. Many trucks on the road already, but it seems more civilised today. Lots of wildlife too, Dik Dik, little antelope, baboons climbing up Baobab.

Spot the railway track that runs from Kenya to Mombasa and later we race the Rift Valley Rail train to our destination. It’s apparently a very touristy thing to do to take the train between the two cities, so lots of white tourist hanging out of 1^st class windows. Our fuel light comes on. So does Mattie’s. That’s a first...

Arrive in the fringes of Mombasa just after 12:00. It’s everything you’d expect from an industrial, port city. Just multiply that expectation by a factor of 2. Chaos, people, busses, people, trucks, bigger trucks. We meander along the road, doing our best not to be crushed under the freight. We spot the first turquoise green of the Indian ocean as we head nearer to the centre of town. Here it’s a little bit more tame, resembling a busy main road like Goodwood or Parow. Matatu’s (taxis. Called Daladala’s in Tanzania and other places) cut through traffic with their usual lack of concern, little three wheel motorbike taxis, the kind you’d associate with say Indian cities cut through in-between the Matte’s. Mosques call out for prayers (very beautiful Mosques, I might add).

The GPS directs us to the ferry so that we can cross over. Good thing, since we’d probably not have enough fuel to cross ourselves! We wait in line for the next one before free-wheeling onboard, the GPS unit informs us that we are now 15 meters below sea level. Always wanted to ride in a submarine.

A short whole layer we exit on the other side and dash into the first available fuel station. 130 Litres later and the Bullet is ready to go again. Beautiful here man, warm tropical wind, tall palm trees litter the landscape between wild forests of vegetation, framed by patches of white sand beaches and turquoise green water. Little fishing boats (makoros, hollowed out tree trunks) working up and down the coast. Heading down to the border at Lunga Lunga to cross into Tanzania, but first Mattie would like to check out the beaches here. We struggle down one path what seemed to be a logical way to get there but end up driving into a thick forest broken here and there with huge ring fenced houses. We reach a dead end and must turn back. Further down the road we test the waters again before finally heading down a sign marked road. What we end up doing is a well hidden 4x4 track! This place puts Kakamega to shame, as far as unspoilt dense forest goes. Winding path through canopies of trees, mud slides and rocky patched. All awesome!

The GPS assures us we’re getting close so we continue on. And on. And on. We pass a few hidden villages next to the path. Mattie radios in that he just missed a green Mamba (VERY VERY poisonous snake) crossing the road. They (the Green and Black variety) have a habit of coiling up and nailing you right through your open window. You have 10 minutes to get anti venom. Out here it’s We close our windows.

On and on we go, until the GPS announces that we have reached Beach road. Hang a left into beach road for a while until we come across a build site... and water! We turn right into the area, with the intention to get out and have a look. Lots of labourers around, they stop to look at us. Around the corner comes a white dude. Looks like he could be a surfer or something, torn jeans, longs curly blonde hair, unshaven, but with a big smile. Introduces himself as Robbie. We intro ourselves and mention we just wanted to check out the beach. He’s very helpful and friendly, quite a soft spoken way about him, and he walks us to the shore break.

WoW!!!

WOWOWOW!

Paradise. Can’t really put it any other way. It’s low tide, so the rocks are exposed a bit, making little tidal pools. Beyond that, impossible colours of blue, green and turquoise. We explore the water and rock pools a bit while Mattie and Robbie walk around the corner to a small cove. I’m not even going to try and describe the raw beauty of this place. It’s pretty much like that movie “The Beach”: wild, untamed and stunning.

Robbie’s story: German born, 32 years old, worked everywhere in Egypt and other African countries. Married to a Kenyan woman, named Supreme’ just last month. They met in Egypt, where he was an entertainment coordinator. Tried getting Supreme’ a visa for Germany, declined, come over to Kenya instead. 6 Months ago he broke ground here, building a lodge and beach bar, with some help from his folks. Their quarters is the semi finished building with the large water tower, the labourers also live on site as well in a hut on the beach, as well as few fishermen nearby. The fishermen supply them with fresh and cheap fish, octopus, you name it. Good resource for his restaurant one day. Work is slow, not up to German standards, but it’s getting there. He intends to call his beach bar “the Sunset Chill”. Says there is a gap in the market here, there are a great many hotels and lodges up the road but their all for older tourists. And they’re always full, so business is booming. He wants to corner the surfer market.

He invites us for tea and we accept. And this part is really straight out of a movie, or that TV show, shipwrecked. A HUGE Mango wood table right on the beach, under palm trees, with a make shift bbq area and tikihut, We meet his very beautiful wife Supreme’ and they share some maize with us. He comments that when they arrived here in this spot the first thing they did was plant maize, tomatoes, cucumber etc to support them and the workers. Clever boy. Everything grows quickly and wild here. We’re also introduced to a very special little guest, Lucky. A small, must be 3 month old puppy! Annelie is officially in seventh heaven and they spend a lot of time playing. I feed the little girl (the puppy, not Annelie) some corn, and I get licked and bitten in equal parts.

We finish our tea and thank Robbie and Supreme’ for their hospitality. I mention that I’ll be sure to mark his place on Tracks for Africa, so other travellers can locate it and that I hope to come stay at his place one day in the future. We leave Robbie’s place feeling a little sad, like we were leaving good friends.

Back up the 4x4 track, this time with vigour. We join the main road again and blaze on to Lunga Lunga. It’s late again, 16:00 already. We make good time and arrive at the border by 17:45. It’s a first for us to enter and exit a border at this time, and it’s very quiet. So what that means is that everything is checked and double checked. No worries, everything is in order, it just takes time!!

Bye bye Kenya!

Exit into no man’s land, a 6KM drive to enter the Tanzanian border post (weird). Not as much chaos as we’d come to expect, but that’s only because it’s late. Lots of trucks and busses blocking the road though. We do the safety dance through customs and immigration, paying our $25 dollars for the car and road tax (remember that?). We get away with not having to buy another visa, which is pretty sweet.

Out of there by 18:35, and the sun is setting. Shit... here we go again.

Very bad for us is that THIS isn’t tarred road and we now have to drive this pothole ridden dust bowl in the dark, trying to pass trucks and busses kicking up dust which reflects your headlights right back at you. Annelie does the driving while I focus on telling her where people and bikes are (since they don’t have any lights, and she is focused on the right directly in front for potholes). I lose count the amount of times we go airborne. Madness! Also a shame since it was at least clear that we were driving through a particularly beautiful part of Tanzania. But we where way to preoccupied to care.

We manage not to kill ourselves again and reach the city of Tanga just after 20:00. Check in at 3 different hotels and inns, all full or really crap. Settle for the Panori hotel. Like all the other good places here, it was built during the colonial times, and left to their own devices. At least the rooms are cheap, and we are dead tired.

Have dinner, roast chicken with peri-peri and... yeah... chips. Finish up and head to the room, I emptied out the bullet of all our bags and suitcases. We need to reconfigure for Zanzibar and repack. We’ll also be leaving the vehicles somewhere for the next 6 – 7 days, so we need to clear out the perishables from the fridge. The plan is to do breakfast tomorrow at 07:30, and head out as soon as possible after that. We have a good 300 km’s to go to Dar, and the last ferry crosses at 16:00. So we need to get to Dar, find a cool place for the cars, catch a mutatu or taxi to the ferry and hopefully BOARD the thing. All before 16:00.

GPS reckons it’s asphalt all the way. We’re gonna drive the wheels off the Bullet to make it!

Highlights: Not killing ourselves. Again.

[G & A], out

We’ll get there fast and then we’ll take it slow

27 July, Day 44: The race to Mombasa

2009-07-27T14:20:00.000+01:00

Back on the road just after 08:00. Heading to Narok, giving one of the Maasai guides a lift. Roads are pretty crap again, even though we’re taking a slightly different route back today. At Narok we break for coffee and chips before heading further. Marieke and Marietta want to check out one of these roadside “guesthouses” we’ve been seeing everywhere so we do so. I sneakily take a little video of the experience. And what an experience! Shame, I shouldn’t joke, but it was pretty grim.

Head back up that mountain pass with the church and the rickety shops. Today it’s filled with suicidal drivers and huge trucks though. Which makes things... interesting.

Arrive in Smelly town again just after lunch time, back at Pat’s after 14:00. Have a quick tea, say our goodbyes to Pat and the others. Load up Annelie and Marietta and head to Karen hospital. Annelie hands in her samples and contact details, hopefully we’ll know in about 3 days what the deal is with Walter (the amoeba). We head out of Karen, past the Shedrik Wildlife trust and on to Mombasa by 15:30. Slow going at first but then we pick up speed. Spot loads and loads of Baobab trees.

Suicidal trucks!! Everywhere. Overtaking other suicidal trucks, carrying massive containers, on blind corners and up hills. More than once we have to take evasive action lest we be crushed. And then we break our number one rule: don’t drive in the dark.

My word. Can’t believe we did that.

We are aiming for the Tsavo inn that’s inside a national park, but we struggle onward between the darkness and killer trucks. One runs Mattie off the road while overtaking another over a hill. The problem here is that even if you stop in time, the two trucks behind you won’t and the collective weight of a few metric tons will crush us in no time flat. Hey, at least it’ll be quick.

But stupid.

We make a call to pull over at the next available Caltex or whatever, even if it’s just to rest for a few minutes. It’s 19:00 already when we pull into a Caltex truck stop, lots of people and parked heavy vehicles. Mattie asks about a good hotel, and the guy recommends the one across the road, the Savoy hotel. We check it out, and it turns out to be the Tsavo Inn!! The place we were looking for. Thank goodness. We check in, order dinner, unload into the rooms and have LOTS of wine and whiskey! We really are dumb!

Dinner was welcome and the beds slept very well. Tomorrow we have some ways to go still before we get to Mombasa, and then on to the border post. We’ll have to see how we get on.

Highlights: Not being killed by crazy trucks.

[G & A], out

Today is a brand new day

26 July, Day 43: Storm chasers

2009-07-26T14:19:00.000+01:00

Up at at’em by 05:15 (yaaaaaawn!). Grab coffee, wake up Annelie, pack up everything except the tent and the sleeping gear. Yawn. Amos joins us just before 06:00. He’ll be riding shotgun with Fanie today, Hannelise sitting in the back. Off we go, into the darkness. Arrive at the gate but it’s not technically open yet. Amos has a quick word and we pass into the park with ease, without even having to pay, since there isn’t a cashier yet. We can pay when we leave the camp.

As we drive through the park you can spot silhouettes of various creatures on the horizon, lost of antelope and buffalo. And lost of Maasai cow herds. The deal is that the Maasai are allowed to have their cattle graze in the park from 16:00 till 07:00 in the morning, then they have to leave. That would explain the lots herders edging their cows on to the exit.

As we drive we spot bright flares in the side view mirrors. Way off in the distance the hot air balloons flash bright orange and yellow and they are inflated for the days tour. Spectacular, I’ve never seen a hot air balloon in real life and against this backdrop of the breaking dawn and clouds, level wide open horizon and absolute darkness it is truly an awesome sight. They eventually take flight (three of them) and chase us down. The first one passes overhead shortly after we first spotted them. I take a ton of pictures, of course.

We continue on but don’t see much. Amos is taking us to a known leopard area, but no dice. I do my mating call out the window. Still nothing. Amos reckons that if they’re not here this time of the morning, we won’t get to see them so we continue on to where lions are.

Just a quick note here: there aren’t any real roads in the park. Lots of dirt paths but at times you just over the savannah. There are loads of other little paths here and there and lots of other safari operators in Toyota Landcruisers driving around. But other than that it’s wide open spaces, high savannah grass and trees dotted around the landscape. Point is, you really need a guide to show you where to go!

Just before 08:00, true to Amos’s word, we spot a large pride of lions. I counted about 7 females and 1 male. The females caught what looked like a wildebeest and they’re just lazing around and gnawing on bones. The male just walks around them all and flops down, relaxing. He couldn’t’[t give two ticks and none of them pay us or the other Landcruisers any sort of mind. We switch off the motors and just watch them. Satisfied, we eventually move on to where cheetahs are. Sure enough, 20 minutes later we spot one and then another under a tree. Amos says over the CB that these are 2 male cheetahs, brothers, and they will stick together like this for life. It’s so interesting, the call a cheetah makes, sounds exactly like a short, high pitched meow! :) We trail them for a bit before letting them be.

Next up, we are heading to the river, where we hope to see a crossing today as part of the migration. And there they are. Thousands of them! As we drive through the savannah and hills we spot wildebeest flippen everywhere. Congregated in groups as small as 20 to as large as what must be a 1000! Little specks on the far away hills. Zebras here and there, antelopes called Toppies (which are only found in the Mara) standing on anthills and grazing. But mostly wildebeest. We come across a very long line of gnu, all heading in the direction of the river. Looks like we may get what we asked for!

We happen on a wildebeest carcass being attacked by vultures. The carcass seems in good condition still, just a hole in the side from what we can see. And the vultures tearing meat from it, and every other orifice. There must have been at least 14 of them, varying sizes (and I later found out, various species too) squawking, fighting and burying their heads inside the hunk of decaying meat.

Further along (and again, to stress, there are wildebeest everywhere!) we pass more conga lines kilometres long of the animals heading in a neat little line up the hill. A large congregation of buffalo are being harassed by two hyenas. One of the hyenas seem to have injured it’s right rear paw. No doubt if this hyena doesn’t recover he’ll end up lunch for the other before long. Dog eat Dog.

It’s about 08:35 or so when we drive next to one of these huge lines of animals all running flat out to the river! Very exciting, wildebeest, antelope and Zebras kicking up dust and savannah grass. They run across our path to get over the road and we have to be careful not to hit any of them. Not really, since they dodge us very well, some jumping high into the air to clear the road. Quick breakfast break under a tree (far from the high savannah grass. Can’t believe how well a lioness can hide in these things!!). Then we’re off again.

Amos wants to show us the river with its hosts of crocs and hippos, and also points out the various candidate spots where a crossing may occur. Big, fat, lazy crocodiles, averaging 5 meters in length are lazing on the banks and in the rapids, baking in the sun. Seriously, these are the biggest crocodiles I’ve ever seen in my life! The water is quite shallow today, good for animals wanted to cross over, bad for the predators in the water. We drive a bit further down the river, looking back the way we came to see kilometres of wild animal heading this way in a neat little line, just like ants, dust flaring on the flat horizon. It’s a sad state of affairs that modern technology can’t capture the sheer vastness of what we where witnessing! Amos reckons we have some time still, so we drive further down the river. There are already a handful of Landcruisers and safari busses lining the bank in anticipation.

More hippos and crocodiles, one really, really big one on the river back right below us. On the way back to the car we are basically cordoned off by a sea of mammals. They have arrived at the river’s edge. As far as the eye can see back over the hill is an unending stream of more and more of them. Amos instructs us not to drive the vehicles back round just yet; allow the animals to edge closer to the river first. In other words, don’t break their momentum. We wait around for a few more minutes just marvelling at the sight. The animals seem to be testing a spot quite close by us for a potential crossing point. But it proves a bit too steep so they move back a bit before moving further away from us. We get the ok to get back into the cars and drive back to where we came from. We need to basically drive through the line to get to that sweet spot, with the crocodiles. Pole-Pole (almost like saying “polly-polly”, but with a more pronounced “e”. Means slowly slowly). LOTS of other Landcruiser and busses line both sides of the bank. I marvel at the mirror image of all the animals rushing to the river: wildebeest AND humans.

They line has arrived at another potential crossing point, one Amos pointed out earlier. Of course, as all the animals move, the busses and other 4x4’s all do the same, so it’s a bit of a manic atmosphere of tension, apprehension, antici....pation, all under his blazing hot Kenyan sun. The line spends about 20 minutes eying this spot before shuffling back a bit and moving further back up the river. Engines flare up, cars vying for position. Amos instructs us to be patient, and just hang back a bit. They’re going to settle on the first spot he pointed out (with the MASSIVE) crocs.

Sure enough, 10 minutes later there is barely a subtle hint of movement. Amos orders us to drive right, right up to the river bank (a spot right before a big rocky path). We do so and we’re rewarded with 1^st class seats, the “other” cars having to park behind us. Spot on!

We now have a complete view of the line to the right, high on the river bank, with an unobstructed view of the rapids below. The 6 crocodiles that were lazing in the sun are nowhere to be seen. Or rather, they can be seen, once you realise 6 of those rapids below aren’t from rocks. Nobody is allowed to leave the vehicles, Amos orders us to stay put (so don’t even get onto the roof, just yet). Wait till there is a forward momentum, because once the front runners break water, they have one thing on the brain: RUN!

And so the stage is set, an unbelievable amphitheatre. Metric tons of sinew, muscles and horn stretching back beyond all human vision, more arriving by the second charging down the hill, a critical mass building on the precipice of the water. Humans and crocodiles waiting with baited breath. Two steps forward. Three steps back. One big Gnu running back up the line before running OVER the front group, almost looks like he’s trying to inspire movement. More shuffles forward. And more forward, cameras ready, binoculars focused, everybody hushed. Then... nothing.

They retreat 6 more steps, and we are in a holding pattern. More beasts arrive, but much slower than before. I wish I could see an aerial shot of this, a big black ink blot on the landscape with trailing ink running off the canvas. This shuffling motion continues for at least another hour and a half. At least the zebras have arrived and they too now form part of the front line.

Then, almost like there was a collective intake of breath, one lone wildebeest edges forward, shuffles a bit, edges forward again.

It was enough.

A dam bursts, the storm breaks and they plunge into the river! Cameras clicking, excitement all round. My eyes can’t really believe what I’m seeing, just because, well, I never even considered that we’d be this lucky! To see the migration is exceptionally rare. To see it on our very first day in the Mara, statically, is a miracle. Yet here we are, almost like we bought tickets for a show. And not the cheap seats, THE FRONT ROW!

I dash over to Fanie’s bakkie and clamper on the roof. I now have a better vantage point on the kill zone, where the “rapids” lurk. The first line makes it across without incident, but right before they reach the other side there is a dip in the water which they all plunge into before paddling out, regaining their grip and exit. This is where I reckon the crocodiles will strike. I didn’t have to wait long. One stray wildebeest was already tagged, struggling what seemed like the force of the water. Through my lens I spot a triangle shaped mouth latched onto its left flank, it’s owner dragging it under water. More beasts cross, impossible to imagine, but even more arrive and fall in line. My heart is racing in my ears, I still can’t believe what I’m looking at. Everyone is hushed, an occasional “woaw!” escapes from the crowd, followed by a “shhhhh”.

The trapped and struggling wildebeest keeps getting back up, before falling back down, back up and then down and just sits in the water. More and more animals splash into that deadly dip right before the other side, and safety. And then the trapped wildebeest is up! And struggling to the back. It scrambles up a rocky slope, trips and falls a few times, but eventually makes it! Cheers (and “shhhhs”). It looked injured though and I suppose it’ll be lion food later. No matter, on with the show!

Zebras have joined the party now, colouring the featureless black line with dashes of white. The crocodiles in the meantime have repositioned themselves, closer to that deep patch. And while we were focused on the action up front, 3 more have crawled upstream, clearly the smell of blood in the water enticing them. Quicker than you can blink a mighty jaw snaps and locks a zebra in its maw! Screams of agony and shock reverberate off the water from the very surprised zebra. The croc has a good grip on the prey’s left flank again. We think that maybe the little guy still has a chance to escape. That chance is quickly dashed as another great big bag of razor sharp death leisurely opens and clamps down over the zebras nose. They start dragging their victim into the deeper water and submerges its head. The zebra struggles back up but the weight of the two killers drags it back down. Down under the water goes the head. Just in time for a third jaw to lock onto its head. Then a forth, onto its neck. A fifth arrives shortly thereafter and by this time the sixth and seventh are well on their way. No black or white strips are discernable under the weight of dark grey scales, tails and rapids.

No more movement from the kill.

The seven (eight, nine?? Impossible to tell!) begin to tear their meal apart.

First to go are the intestines, one crocodile getting lower guts wraps right around its colossal head, wearing it like a pink ribbon. Chunks for flesh flash out of the water as they grip and roll to tear it loose. Big mouths crest the water and chew gleefully with their mouths open. Hind legs separate from hips. Throat torn out. All of this happens over the course of the next few minutes. No rush here. A hippo (I notice later) is just off to the side, and one more crocodile travelling from upstream runs into it, and attempts to add hippo to the menu. I’ve never seen a croc get smacked down so fast before! And if a croc could whimper and run with its tail between its legs, this was it.

The rest of the line have moved a bit more upstream, away from the kill zone but still going strong. Could you believe that 2 more crocodiles arrived from downstream and they were now moving up into the line’s new crossing point to catch more prey. But they are way too late for this party, most of the animals have crossed. The small group of zebra still left on the right back cease and desist, smelling danger. They will live to cross another day.

Behind us, the plains are barren. Across the river on the hill are thousands upon thousands of little black dots, moving away from us. So too, the other safari operators have started up the engines and in a reverse course start vacating the area. We stick around to watch the crocodiles. I spot a few other things: a few of the smaller crocs (seriously, “small” is very relative in this world. They’re still stupid-huge reptiles!!) who weren’t invited to the buffet have caught a cocky stork right off the bank. Another caught a catfish! A every large catfish (the fish was lured by the smell of blood too. They’re carrion eaters). The zebra has been slowly dismembered by the grip-and-roll manoeuvre of 6 (7,8,9??) crocs working in unison. Fights break out over meat, the current almost carries the catch away, big crocs flow with it. The zebras head briefly bobs above water, so too a pair of legs and a rib cage. The intestine wearing croc retreats with a large hunk of meat. It will probably hide it away for a few days to rot before finishing it off. Charming.

Mattie is smiling like the Cheshire cat and could easily be a poster boy for a Colgate commercial. We still can’t believe our luck and we all commend Amos for a stunning day! Lunch is on the cards, so we head down to the river bank (AWAY from the buffet) and settle in for some tuna sandwiches and coffee. A large pod of hippos are off to the left, but they look fast asleep. They eventually wake to our presence and start calling out (very weird sound!). We finish up our meal and head back to the gate. We go leopard spotting again but nada. See another pride of lions, as well as a loner male lion parking under a tree, breathing heavily in this heat. Spot more Maasai Giraffe, lots of Grant’s Gazelles, Dik Dik’s, all sorts of bird, a few Toppies and elephants. Somewhere Dirk’s GPS warns of a “Wildebeest crossing”. No kidding.

We arrive back at Riverside camp, overpay Amos and reminisce over the incredible event we witnessed today. He collects the money for entry into the park and brings us a receipt. Even better than all of this: we saved two days! So now, we can race to Zanzibar. Awesomeness.

The group will travel to Karen again before heading separate ways. Dirk and Fanie will head to some lake to see the flamingos while Mattie and us will gun for Mombasa. We have a border post to cross back into Tanzania before we can head further to Dark Es Salaam, where we will park the cars, get re-configured and catch a ferry to a tropical paradise.

Highlights: The whole day!

[G & A], out

Cool like a green banana

25 July, Day 42: to the land of the Maasai

2009-07-25T14:19:00.000+01:00

We’re off just before 9 to draw some money for the Mara. It’s $60 per person to enter, per day, plus we’ll need to pay for camping and whatever. The guys reckon we’ll spend at least 3 days in there, so I prepare for that. The idea today is to drive to a camp just outside the Talek gate (named after the Talek river that flows nearby). There are a great many camps inside and around the Mara (25 at least) but we have good info from Fanie’s other cousin, Vallerie who worked in the Mara for a few years. She reckons that he best camps are on the Talek gate side. As it happens too, yesterday while at the Nakumatt (big BIG shopping centre here) they were chatting in Afrikaans about the next few days and what kind of supplies they should be buying when a stranger happened to overhear them. She too was Afrikaans (and STARVED for the moeder-taal) and she JUST HAPPENS to have come from the Mara a few weeks ago. She insists on helping Fanie out and jumps on her cell phone to get another ladies number, who in turn has a number for a very excellent guide, Amos. She reckons that Amos knows the park like only a Maasai can and he was excellent in guiding them.

And again, as fate and luck and all that works out, Amos is based in the Riverside Camp, next to the Talek gate, one of the camps we were going to anyway! Amazing, huh? :) Afrikaaners is plesierig.

Armed with all this knowledge and high hopes we dash off, the same road we’ve travelled before, passing through Smelly town (it really is smelly) and over that treacherous mountain pass where we bought the sheepskin and bark hats, little shops perched over the edge overlooking the rift (I think one may have even fallen off the ledge), pass the little Italian Church until we reach a crossing where we turn left, instead of keeping straight on. Fanie gets pulled over again, this time the cop reckons he was going 95. Fanie asks that he prove it, show him the speed gun. The cop reckons no, the speed gun is 1km down the road. Fanie counters that he’s still within the speed limit anyway, which is 100 (for private vehicles). The cop reckons this is a commercial vehicle (here we go again) and walks behind the bakkie. Good thing we didn’t stick those “80” stickers on the back, which is what commercial vehicles have to do. The cop can’t do anything but ask to see a license, the triangle and once these are prod cud to let Fanie go. Heh heh, score one more for the good guys!

More shitty, dusty, old and newly built roads. More roadworks, more hard driving. Unfortunately we end up at the wrong gate, so we need to travel around the park a bit to get the Talek gate. On this tour we see many, many many Maasai herds, all bone skinny and just sitting there. The entire veld has been totally over grazed and these poor animals are starving.

Another sexy little anecdote: most of the cattle have scars from long cuts on their sides. This is because the Maasai perdiodiaclly cuts them to drink their blood. I suppose this is for nutritional value, or something.

Just after 14:00 or so we arrive at Riverside, with Aruba camp to the left. We’re greeted by the Maasai manager and organise us a campsite. 400 KSh pp/night, free firewood, crappy facilities (hot showers, but long drop toilets). At least there are trees for shade (it’s very hot!). We setup our tent, our chairs are sopping wet from the rain last night. We leave the canopy windows open a little bit for the fridge in the back, but I forgot to close it yesterday. The chairs have to dry out a bit, no problem in this heat.

The gang asked the manager to track down Amos for us and the tall Maasai arrives shortly after, all dressed in red with beads and jewellery. Fanie asks him if he knows so and so and he replies with the name of the man and the woman he is referring to. Test passed. They ask him about the state of the animals and the migration, he reckons that nothing is for certain but there are quite a few animals congregated around the plains at the moment. We arrange for an early start tomorrow, 06:00. While we were at the hospital yesterday the guys organised a fly over in a 6 seater airplane over the Mara. So they phone the pilot to ask what the deal is, but he is unavailable for tomorrow (Sunday) since he’s chartered to fly to Tanzania tonight. Earliest is Monday at 10:00. The big discussion before we commit to anything is: how long do we intend to stay here?? For Mattie, the migration is a very important thing to witness, but you never know when it’s going to be. Back and forth, back and forth, we chip in our 2 cents and it’s simple: we really, really want to go the Zanzibar. As it is, we only have 4 days there, so we don’t want to cut into that at all. Eventually there is an agreement to see what happens tomorrow and if we don’t see any action we do a fly over and hopefully get to see something. Worst comes to worse, we don’t stay longer than 3 days. There are hot air balloon rides in the Mara as well, but at $350 pp they don’t seem worth it. d

It was my turn to braai, lots of steaks while Annelie organised the braai broodtjies. Our steak must have come from one of those mangy Maasai cows, because it was rubber. We offer the rest to the camp reception, since it was very much inedible.

Sleep early tonight, we gotta move early tomorrow. I’m hoping for a quick win here so we can hustle to Dar Es Salaam. I think I’ve seen enough of national parks and animals by now.

[G & A], out.

Danger: wide load!

Updated pics!

2009-07-24T21:03:00.001+01:00

Aye, it’s true! Finally sat down and filtered through the terabytes of pictures. Some of them are even tagged! How cool is that?

I’ve changed the format somewhat, so each day now has its own album. So if you click on the “Pictures” link on the blog, it should work a bit better. It’s become a pig to upload it to one big album, and I’m sure folks with slower (in other words, South African ADSL and dail ups) might appreciate it :)

And if you’re too lazy to even do THAT (you lazy, lazy bum), here’s the link

Cool cool. I’m still a bit behind with the journal, but I thought I’d focus on the pics instead. Got some SUPER cute pics to post still, watch this space.

Till later, G

24 July, Day 41: Visit to the Orphanage

2009-07-24T14:18:00.000+01:00

Sleep in a little bit, only a little though. Pat’s little jack Russels have a habit of filling in for the local rooster. Today we’re going to pay a visit to the local orphanage. We wanted to do so the last time we were here but we had a time constraint.

So we wake up, get dresses have some food and so on. The visiting times are STRICLTY 11:00 – 12:00 so by 10:00 we’re on our way. A little bit of traffic but eventually we enter a gate manned by armed personnel (very friendly, armed personnel. I have to say the sight of assault rifles doesn’t unnerve me as much anymore) and we continue on and slightly up to the main reception. When we arrive there are quite a few other people already, queuing up to enter. A whole school bus of kids I guess to be around 5-6 years old arrive, teachers herding them into little lines. Lots of badly dressed Americans around too. Everybody gathers round the entrance, which is a pathway between some buildings to who knows where. The only thing between us and entry is one little piece of rope (not even the velvet variety, just plain old nylon). Two little warthogs approach to investigate the commotion before dismissing us as wholly irrelevant. The sun is out in full force again, good thing we put on sunscreen

At 10:50 a gentlemen removes the rope and everybody stampedes like wildebeest down the path. After paying our 300 KSH per person (which goes towards helping to care for the little ones) we head between more buildings (curio shop etc) overhung by trees till we reach a large open area, wing fenced with more rope and a bench here and there. There are big pacifiers attached to (what I guestimate) to be 3 litre bottles placed around the area, buckets of water and a horse shoe shaped mud pit in the middle.. A few gentlemen in green overcoats stand in the middle and wait while the everyone gathers round and the teachers herd the kids into orderly ranks off to the left.

Not long after we all settle down the orphans are brought in, about 9 of them. Off in the distance up the hill they come charging down, breaking ranks from the neat little line while more men in green overcoats run after them. They charge straight for the water buckets and men holding the pacifiers, little trunks curling up in delight, over sized ears flapping and gurgling sounds coming from their mouths.

These are the youngest of the orphaned elephants that the Shedrick Wildlife trust looks after, nurtures and will eventually attempt to re-habilitate back into the wild. Off to the right, two of the little guys are aiming for the same teat of SMF formula and making a huge racket. The green overcoat must retreat while another brings more milk bottles. Eventually they see the wisdom of waiting your turn and each is rewarded with a teat of its own. While this is going on, the others have drenched themselves in water from the buckets and are playing, falling over, wrestling and playing in the horse show shaped mud pit. A guide on each side explains what we are looking at (duh! Lots of baby elephants running amok!). This group consists of little ones from about 3 months to a year. He then tells us of each and every one of them. They’re named according to where they were discovered or after the ranger that found them. Most are here because their parents were killed during conflict of poaching. A few rare cases rejected their babies for whatever reason (lots of splashing and dirt flying around behind his back. Lots of attention seeking and little trunks touching and feeling. Lots of “aaaaws”, “ooohs” and laughter, mostly from Annelie)

I wish I’d paid more attention to each story, but Annelie did video the whole thing while I was around snapping pictures.

It’s quite cute, because their way out of proportion! Ears are way too big, legs too scrawny and they have very little balance. They especially have trouble exiting the mud pit and do so on their knees. Not very successful, they usually just slide back in, try again, slide back in, another one climbs on top of it, they both slide in, they both just lay down instead. And so forth. Very entertaining. The guides take shovels and cover them in water and mud while they splash around.

After the presentation they’re all herded back up the hill. More pacifiers are placed around the encampment, but this time they place two at each location. The second, more mature group enters, lead by a big looking matriarch. To see them storm down the hill like the last batch is a little concerning and I think the guides had to scramble to stop them running. I do remember the big mamma’s name, Kenya. She is the leader and oldest of this group, 3 years. She was found near Mount Kenya, hence her name. The guide runs through all the elephants, their names and why they’re here. Again, I’ll have to defer to the video, or check out their website. I think they do fantastic work here!

This group (another 8 or 9 of them) consists of elephants aged between 1 year and 3. They will generally spend 3 years at the trust before passing on to another project for re-introduction to the wild. This could be tricky, since the wild elephants won’t just accept them and they could end up very lonely or very dead elephants instead. One of the elephant stories I do remember was of the tail less little fella. While scouting the park around Tarangire rangers heard urgent little calls coming from around a hill. When they arrived this 1 year old little bull elephant was fighting off 4 very mangy looking hyenas trying to get to the carcass of its mother, who was killed by poachers. Of course, this little guy didn’t know or didn’t give a damn, they weren’t coming near her! At the sight of the rangers, the hyenas wisely retreated. After attending to its wounds the rangers gathered him up and moved him to safety. The hyenas did get his tail though and he was now left with a little stump. I hope the other elephants don’t make too much fun of him. Kids can be mean.

I’m a rubbish story teller, because I can’t even remember the elephants name! Oh well.

Other anecdotes that I found interesting is how lonely and heartbroken these little guys get. They need the same kind of love and attention that humans do, including lots of physical touch. Some of the guides even sleep next to them, especially the new arrivals or very young ones. It’s been known that they go into depression and die from loneliness or heartache and many never reach an age where they can be re-introduced to the wild. Shame.

This group is led off up the hill again, and for the last 10 minutes they enter a very special little guest: a 3 month old black rhino named Malam (after the ranger who found him. I remembered!). Malam was discovered when he was only 2 or 3 days old. Long story short, but there was a project to relocate some black rhinos from one national park to another. The rangers went in to tranquilise all the animals and get them all packed up. As a rule they don’t tranq pregnant animals, but someone didn’t do their homework. The result is that the mother aborted this little guy while attempting to flee.

Though Malam was young, and (apparently) could fit into your pocket, he weighed a whopping 20 KGs!

They bring in and proceed to lather him with mud, using a shovel. He crashes onto his side and waits until he is almost covered, then JUMPS UP and spins around (mud flying everywhere) before falling back down onto his other side for another layer. And so it goes, it’s clearly the life to be a baby black rhino. More oohs and aahs (mostly from Annelie).

And that’s the show. We make our way back to the gate, pass the curio shop where you can help support the trust and there is a big board with all the elephants names and short back story. You can also adopt an elephant or rhino, for $50 per year. The rangers and guides will send you a monthly log of their progress, with pics and videos (all –professionally edited). Very smart, again, I think they’re doing phenomenal work.

What I didn’t mention earlier (as to not spoil the surprise) is that by the main reception there are these huge wooden cages. In one of them is the biggest rhino I’ve ever seen. In fact, the first and biggest rhino I’ve ever seen, in real life. Shida (shee-da) is a 6 year old black rhino who has successfully been rehabilitated back into the wild. Only thing is... he keeps coming back. The guide told us earlier that he has a habit of coming and going as he pleases and he just arrived back this morning. He’s in his pen for our protection, but when we leave they open it up and lead him back out (not sure how you coax what must be a 1 ton black rhino to do ANYTHING). At first, he looks very angry to see you, skulking in the back of the pen. But after a while he stirs and shuffles closer to the iron gate where he proceeds to stick his 1m long horn through the bars (I think that’s how he says hello. Trouble is, you gotta watch where your junk is at that point...). I gather up the guts to reach out and touch his flank. My word. I’ve never felt anything like it before. Tough, thick, impenetrable , what can only be described as armour. It’s the toughest leather I can imagine and I can’t imagine he feels anything through it. He shuffles around the pen and I notice that he rubs his ears hard against the bars. So I reach out and give him a mighty big scratch on the only spot that seems sensitive to touch: behind his ears. His eyes just go dim, dim, and close. He’s LOOOOOVING it! Annelie joins in and we treat the big guy to some attention. He then moves on, back to the back of the pen as more people arrive and then shuffles back and forth, then back to the gate and sticks that big horn through the railings. More ear scratching, other people joining in.

Next to Shida is another guest, a 3 year old Black rhino, blind from birth. Didn’t see him at all, I suppose he kind of keeps to himself. While all the rhino loving was going on, 3 warthogs (2 of which we saw earlier) are around and feeding on little grassy mounds around the area. One scares 3 shades of shit out of Annelie as it squeals and storms off! One of the guides behind us says “don’t go near that one. He has no friends”. Hehehehehe, funny.

Take a few more pics and video of this fantastic creature and head to the car. On the way we head into Karen hospital (and heart unit!). Annelie wants to find out about some tests that we can do to see if Walter has left the building. She is finishing her last round of Flagyl today, but we want to check what we can do before we leave for the Mara. Very, very nice facility, the Karen hospital will put private hospitals in Cape Town to shame!

They advise that she come back in 2 days to provide some samples. They can then give her the results and we’ll take it from there. Cool.

Back to Pat’s, more chilling. Starts to rain and pretty much carries on for the entire night. Everyone is lounging around and chatting, I’m keeping to myself and updating more pics and so forth.

Anecdote: http://www.sheldrickwildlifetrust.org/ . They have the back stories and so forth on there.

Tomorrow, we leave for the Maasai Mara (NOT "masai" like I've spelt it before) in a hope to spot the animals migrating back to the Serengeti. As I said before, this is very much like predicting the rain, only less accurate. You can spend weeks there and not see anything.

Fingers crossed.

Before we go to bed I bake us some chocolate fudge for the road:

500g icing sugar, 80 g cacao, 250g butter, 1 egg (beaten, like a red headed step child) and 2 packs of Marie bisquits. Sift everything together, melt butter and add, through in egg, mix and nuke for 3 minutes. Mix thoroughly, add break up bisquits and gentle mix it. DONE! DELICIOUS!

Highlights: Duh! But I’ll say getting to scratch a fully grown black rhino behind the ears

is way up there on my cool-list

[G & A], out.

I know this much is true

23 July, Day 40: Going over to Pat's

2009-07-23T14:17:00.000+01:00

On our way early, head out to pay for lodgings ($10 per night, per person). Lots of coffee plantations along the way, and more climbs up mountain passes. Today, however, the Bullet has NO problem running up this hill! So lessons learned, after these long dusty roads, take a time out to clean the filter again.

Stop over at Thompsons waterfall. They want me to pay for the priviellage of looking at it and taking pictures. I blow them off. Nothing will come close to Murchison at this point. Phifft. Order a plate of chips and 2 glasses of piping hot milk. Annelie and I mix in some Milo into the milk, NICE!

Off at 12:30, drive through Ol’kalau (where Fanie grew up), head into Gill Gill at around 13:20 (there is a big army garrison here. And aparantly this is like the De Aar of Kenya, were troops gather for deployment).

By 14:45 we drive into “Smelly Town”. Which is.. well... smelly. And rundown. Arrive in Karen just after 15:00. Before we head back to Pat’s place, we go to the shops, have ice cream, draw money, refuel and re-shop. We also need to look into what we’ll need for the 3 or so days in the Masai Mara.

I bake us another 1.4 kg beer bread... which comes out raw (only baked it for an hour, in a gas stove), nuked it for 30 minutes, slapped in back into the oven for 15 and tada! Brilliant bread! We put cubes of cheese into this one, but not hardly enough. Still... DELICIOUS!

We’ll be staying here for 2 days, so more r&r and more DVD burning, journal updatin’ and pic uploading. (I hope you kids appreciate my labours!!)

That’s it, over and out.

[G & A], out

What do you do, in the bath?

22 July, Day 39: maintenance day

2009-07-22T14:16:00.000+01:00

Annelie is feeling quite good this morning, positive. She has a system now where she takes the Flagyl with a ¼ Xanor for the morning and afternoon sessions, then in the evening she just wings it. It works out ok because then she can function during the day and just spaz out in the evening. We can retreat to the comfort of the tent for some chill out time.

On the cards today is some maintenance and catch up. I have a few terabytes of DVD’s to write to clear up some space, clean out the Bullet a bit, repack our fridge (something emptied its contents in there... again) and perform general checkups. Another thing I wanted to do was clean out the Bullets air filter again. With the first few shakes I empty half a cup of fine, orange-red dust out of it. More shaking and bashing against a wooden peg, still more dust but tough to get out. I have a bright idea to fire up the little air compressor we use for the tires. Works quite well, but it’s a long filter so I can’t stick the business end deep enough into it, at a right angle. Another bright idea: page through the filter like a book! While I do this, Mattie blows air through the compartments. After a riveting read of about 400 pages plus, I am now the owner of a relatively brand new filter! The filthy clogged up filter is no doubt the reason why the Bullet took a hiding up that mountain pass, and why our fuel economy suddenly crashed.

At 12:30 everyone except Mattie and Marietta leave to go have lunch at the Trout Tree restaurant. They have this huge sign just a few km’s down the road. Very nice place! Ok, so obviously it’s a fresh water trout farm, so you enter over some wooden decking and can spy the various spawning pools below. The twist is that the entire restaurant is built into a HUMOUNGAS tree!!

We settle in and get some drinks, and order the whole grilled trout. I take some pics of the surroundings, like I said, it’s all a very big tree house that looks like it’s part of the tree it’s mounted It has two levels and very spacious. The best part is the bar: all natural wood underneath one of the bows of the tree, with little saplings and leaves growing in-between the spirits and wine. A living bar! So cool.

The food was top class, well priced and the service excellent. Lots of framed pictures of various people catching and proudly displaying trout on the walls. By the reception, there are numerous articles from Home and Away and other Getaway mags giving the restaurant rave reviews. I can see why. Pity it’s so quiet in the height of tourist season, but at least there were a few other patrons too.

Back at the camp we put in a order for the hotel sauna, which gives us about an hour and a bit for haircuts! Annelie spends some time trimming my beard (apparently she couldn’t see my face anymore) and I get to cut her hair. Of course, my attempt at cutting a woman’s hair can go either way. For the record, I think it worked out pretty well, even layered it a bit! I think if this IT or photography thing doesn’t work out I’m signing up for hair school.

What I forgot to mention yesterday is that we had a very nice supper at the restaurant here. It was all buffet and the variety was quite good. I had everything, basically, but had 2^nd and 3rds of the Hungarian Stroganoff (delicious!! Not the meat, so much, but the sauce went well with rice). For 17:00 – 18:00 the sauna was all ours. Fantastic man, really top class. We had a little room, 2 showers and the whole sauna just to ourselves and it was a really nice change of pace from the dust, cold showers... or no showers... of the last month and a bit.

Just chill.

Had a relaxing super-hot shower after that and floated back to the camp. Making Pap (porridge) and Wors, with chakalaka tonight. Saved the left over pap for breakfast tomorrow.

Annelie crashing again, so we tuck in early. Quite cold tonight, since we’re at such a high altitude (about 2000m above sea level, if I remember correctly).

Highlights: That awesome sauna!

That awesome trout!

Pap and wors!

[G & A], out

I’ve got another confession to make

21 July, Day 38: road to Dodoma, redux

2009-07-21T14:15:00.000+01:00

No hippos or crocs or any sign of life, other than the geese wandering the camp. Woke up at 05:00, then again at intervals. Decided to just stay awake and watch the sunrise. Didn’t get much sleep anyway, the bed was a bucket seat and it was very hot and stifling under the mosquito net. And that noisy fan didn’t help either.

Everyone was awake by about 07:30 anyway and having coffee while enjoying the rich kaleidoscope of the sunrise. Today we are off to Buffalo springs, on the same road that will take you to Somalia. Packing everything up is a breeze, since the dishes and everything is done for us. By 09:00 we’re back on the road. Going well, until we discover that Mattie and Dirk turned LEFT instead of RIGHT into the main road. We spend the next 20 minutes chasing them and trying to catch up. They eventually realise that we’re not there and turn around on their own. With everyone now facing the correct direction we continue on.

We make a quick pit stop and I almost hurt myself. I take a pee-pee against a very smart looking fence that's making this soft tick-tick-ticking sound. Quick evasive action!

Anecdote: never pee-pee against an electric fence.

The rest of the journey starts off quite pleasantly. Then it gradually deteriorates into broken, jagged potholes. The mountain pass clearly had some heavy rain a while back and big rocks are strewn everywhere. Before long, I’ve made up my mind. The only reason why I wouldn’t call this the worst road we’ve travelled is because it’s shorter than that horrid Dodoma route. The high ground does afford us a nice view of the lake below, however. But everyone got rather tense, because it’s hard on the vehicles and the passengers. While I was driving I just caught a movement in my side view mirror and had to make a quick stop . The Cadac gas cylinder was hanging next to the back canopy window, by a relative thread of a elastic strap!

It didn’t get any better once we reached that big road going all the way to Somalia. They’re building the new highway here, but we still have to drive on the gravel. We did get a short reprieve a bit later when we could (at last!) drive on a smooth stretch.

At around 15:20 we arrive at the Buffalo springs national park. Shocking. They won’t even let us in the gate to check the lodge without paying. And for camping you get NOTHING. No facilities at all, not even a toilet. For $60 per person, excluding the vehicles. The so called “park” doesn’t even have a fence around it. The other guys fight with them but they’re adamant. Not worth our while we decide, but we’ve been travelling for a few hours now on very rough road. We make the call to push on, another hour or more to the next town and camp posts. Asphalt quickly turns very dangerous, because there are short stretches that lulls you into complacency before surprising you with very deep potholes that are impossible to miss, not only because of the other traffic and bikes, but because they stretch the entire road surface. The alternative is to risk going off road, but you could easily flip your car like that.

There’s also a heavy military presence in the next town. Annelie and I could feel the tension creep onto us as our group got all sorts of stares from men in camo brandishing heavy weapons. We have to wait at a security check, blocked up with trucks and busses and army personnel forming up into a convoy. Most of the trucks are jammed with everything from people to medical supplies, and troops. The others reckon this is a convoy getting ready to travel to Somalia. The tension was palpable.

We hurry along as best we can, between the potholes. Still very hard going, and we climb another 1000 m in no time flat. The Bullet STRUGGLES up the hills, for some reason losing all its bite. The others carry on and we play catch up. The landscape is very pretty at least, with lots of commercial farming activity. Marieke mentions that the greenhouses we were passing are rose nurseries. I also spot fields of corn. BY 17:00 or so we reach and cross the equator... again. Stop to take pics anyways, but my smile is false. I’m fucking wrecked. This road man, this road... And Annelie is still on the heavy drugs, so lots of tension between us as well. I’m also pissed off since I couldn’t do my typing in the car like I’d usually do (but this is a manufactured gripe. I’m really just battered and bruised from the hard days driving).

A few minutes later we roll into Noromoru, but get lost a bit trying to find the access road to the camp. We eventually locate it and drive the pathway next to the train track to the gates. Very nice lodge and camp site, we opt to camp. They facilities are suffice, they have a little kitchen area with big basins, a fridge and chairs. And as an added bonus all the water here is from an underground spring, so we have an opportunity to refill all the water tanks.

Annelie and I setup quite a far ways from the rest. It’s quite windy and stormy, to match everyone’s mood. But then a magical thing happens. The clouds clear a bit, just enough to reveal Mount Kenya! Everybody seems to forget the hardship of the day. It’s quite rare to actually see these big mountains, ala Mount Kilimanjaro, since their almost always hidden behind cloud cover. I snap a few pics.

We’ll be staying here for 2 days, so it’ll give me some time to look after Annelie and to regroup.

The stars are out tonight. I read back in Arusha that the new moon is on the 22^nd of July so it should be the best time to see the milky way in all its glory. Annelie is already in bed, I stay up after everyone to take a few extra long exposures of the stars. Takes a while, for every say 4 minutes, it takes the camera 4 minutes to produce a pic. Happy with the tests, I setup for a 30 minutes exposure, lay in bed a bit and bring the camera inside the tent once it’s done. I’ll leave it to process and check it out tomorrow.

Highlights: Not electrocuting my vee-vee

Awesome sunrise

[G & A], out

Don’t need a credit card to ride on this train

20 July, Day 37: hippos have right of way

2009-07-20T19:45:00.000+01:00

So last night it was decided that given our schedule we won’t stay on here at this camp, but as a compromise for those who did we’d only leave at 10:00. Annelie slept ok, so did I. We’ll see how a quarter Xanor goes today. We hop through the shower, cold shower. Someone left a whole bag of “Outdoor Essentials” in the shower (the overlander left at 07:30 this morning already). Guess we’ll hang on to it :)

After chatting to Raj (did I mention he looks more like a Navaho Indian than, well, an Indian Indian?? Must be the Mohawk). Anyways, Raj. He spoke to his cuzzies down South and they reckon they migration only started last week, so if you really want to catch it in full swing, including some big cat kills and so on you should go there in three weeks. We say we don’t have 3 weeks. He says that’s unfortunate. In an effort to make the best of it, we’ve decided not to head to the Mara today (we were gonna camp just outside the park) we’ll turn the program on its head and head the other way, to Mount Kenya first, then down to Karen again to crash at Pat’s. That buys us about a week or so. Raj recommends two camp sites we can go see on route as well as a most excellent dairy factory in town. Turns out Raj not only owns and runs (and lives ON) this marvellous camp site, but he owns a huge textile factory in town. I recognise the logo from his business card from the signs I’ve seen on the way in. They make blankets etc, called “Ken-Knit”. Overall Raj is overly hospitable and very friendly, and his insight into the Mara helped us out a lot, on spots to see while you’re in the park and so forth.

Off we go just after 10 to go try some cheese! We follow his directions, get lost, try again and find the place: tucked behind a graveyard for old trucks and tankers, next to a carwash and you pretty much need a 4x4 to reach it! But find it we do. And... well... I think they had a power interruption or something. The window where you get to sample the cheeses is right next to this massive generator, that’s running like a bat out of hell, blowing heat and fumes right into you. And it’s LOOOOOUD. So Marieke just goes up to the window, he smiles, writes something on a piece of paper (“cheddar”) and places some cheese on it before handing it to her. She retreats to where we are standing and we all sample some “cheddar”. Dirk rates the cheeses according to his tastes on a separate piece of paper. She then goes back and the smiling gentlemen hands her the next piece of paper (“gouda”) and so it goes. We end up tasting about 7 different cheeses this way before deciding on our order, which we jot down on a piece of paper and hand it back to him (all while this generator is churning away). He then scrambles to make up the order, while handing you another piece of paper which you take to the window on the opposite side for payment. You then take the invoice back to him and he hands you the goods.

It’s all very hilarious! I ordered 2 “choc sticks” which he pointed to and gestured “no”. He tried to ask me something over the noise, I just gave him a thumbs up and decided to leave it at that. Turns out I now ordered a small ice cream tub. He looks at me (there are about 10 other people crowding the window at this stage, and he left a bit earlier to find help. So there’s a bustle of activity both this and the other side of the window), bites his lip and scribbles something on my invoice before handing it to me. I grab it between the other bodies filling the space and study it. I retrieve my decoder ring and finally decipher it as: vanilla, strawberry, pine apple or chocolate. I circle “pine apple” (because I don’t think I’ve had pineapple ice-cream before) an hand it back. He looks at it (after wrapping some cheese, packing some cheese and scribbling some other persons invoice, all at the same time) nods and proceeds with my order.

All in all, we walked away with a few kilo’s of really great tasting cheese and the pineapple ice cream was awesome!!

Back in the cars and away from the madness, dodging people, trucks, bikes etc as we go. Refuel stop is next, Annelie is crashing pretty hard. So lots of love and attention. Shame. On the way I request we stop at a bakery, and my words aren’t even cold when Fanie spots one and pulls over. The friendly lady at the little store sells us a whole bag of scones (about 24 little ones!) for “wholesale” as well as a fresh bread, for a mere 110 KSH (not even a quid). And they were HOT, fresh baked. I devour about 7 (3 “tasters” she brought out, and 4 from my newly acquired stash) before I even get back to the car. That sorts lunch out! I fetch the butter and jam, cheese from the back and Annelie gets busy with prepping more.

The rest of the drive is a stunning one! We climb for many meters, up to about 2500 at one point. The Bullet takes it in its stride. We stop off at “Kerio View” which offers a magnificent vista of the rift valley (I think we’re on the other side of it now, remember, we passed it a few weeks ago when we bought those funky hats?). Very beautiful, a great big scar in the earth, but it’s a bit hazy (Fanie reckons it’s always hazy) so visibility isn’t as good as it can be. About 3 kids around, so we give them each a scone.

Anecdote: we often see black men walking hand in hand. I asked a while back, when we were in Arusha what this means. It’s a sign of friendship, “One Love”, peace and so forth. Given the hectic political turmoil of all the African countries, this is how people show unity. So they’re not gay or anything, it’s just a sign of brotherhood. It still seems weird to me, but hey...

Up and down we go over the mountain pass, stopping at a few viewpoints for pics. Dirk comments that a particular stretch of cliffs reminds him of the Amphitheatre of the Drakensberg. Wow, just, wow. So stunning. More climbing and climbing and climbing (ears popping) we arrive at a town right at the very top of the pass, called Kabernet. It’s quite an advanced town, very green, lots of nice looking buildings and schools / collages. And down we go again on the other side.

Push on to Baringo and arrive there just after 14:20. We pay a small fee of 500 KSH per vehicle to enter (a steal!). The camp site looks good, and they have lodges so we ask about them. There is one house available, for a mere 13000 KSH per night. As in, a proper HOUSE, with rooms, a kitchen, 2 bathrooms and a huge stoep (porch) overlooking the lake. The manager also informs us that the lake is full of hippos and crocs, and given the proximity of the house to the water (I reckoned about 30m) we should that care at night. The hippos DO and WILL come out of the water once it gets dark. Also, early morning you can expect to find a bank full of crocodiles. We say “cooooool” :)

Everybody nominates a room and settles in, hook up the vehicles fridges to the house’s power and start chatting about dinner. The view from the stoep is incredible. Lake Baringo stretches out before you, little islands in the middle, and the light and clouds are playing on the water. Lots (LOTS) of little birds around. I almost stepped on one, they’re that tame. I noticed later that they all hive little metal tags around their right foot. The cleaning lady (yeah, the house comes with a cleaning lady, who also makes us coffee and tea!) mentioned later that there is a German researcher close by who is studying these birds. Lots of old or dead trees pepper the bank, with little bird nests in them. There is a pier off the left, and a couple of boats marooned close by. Lots of comfy chairs and couches for everyone to lounge on, kitchen right next to the porch. No sight of hippos or crocs and no hippo calls (you can hear them for km’s). The lake is a turquoise dirty green and very very calm.

I setup my mobile office in the lounge and get my charging station and memory card readers working for their keep. There is also a trampoline nearby which Annelie sweeps (it’s full of leaves, since it’s under this huge thorny tree). We lay on the trampoline and watch the birds flutter about, little nests hanging in the tree above. So peaceful. Annelie is feeling better again, but such are the lulls between taking the drugs. We chat a bit and spend some quality time together (don’t get a lot of that on this trip). I explore the bank a little, take pics and notice these interesting indents in the soil. Hippos! I call Annelie over and have her put her foot next to and into rather large footprint. Yikes! That’s a biiiiig boy. So the legend is true... Nab some very very cool sunset shots.

Dinner is a delicious meat pasta, courtesy of Marietta and I over eat again. Unfortunately, Mattie peppered the dish with a kilo of garlic (well, not a kilo. But a lot) and Annelie is kind of allergic to it. So after dinner we walk over the reception/bar/restaurant and order her some grilled chicken. It’s dark already, so we are accompanied by a guard with a stick. I later asked how useful the stick is, he reckons not much. Hippos fear light more than anything, so just shine a torch their way. If that fails, throw a rock. If that fails, you’re boned. RUN!

We settle in at a table on the grassy area outside the “Thirsty Goat”. It’s quite hot and humid, bats fluttering around everywhere. As usual, there’s the resident hungry kitty meowing away for attention. We spot a little bat as it flies in and hangs upside down on a skirting board on the bar. Cute! Dinner arrives and it looks very good. Annelie reckons it is. The next minute we hear a rolling thunder running towards us, off to the left! I shine my torch just in time to catch 2 very large hippos trampling bushes and kicking up dust just a few meters away, running towards the camp gate, 3 camp escorts branding flashlights in tow. Before long the same pair runs back towards the lake *THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP CRAAAASH!* into the trees and bushes. Gets back up *THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP thump thump thum...*. Guards arrive at the scene and scan the area, nothing. At this point Annelie is about ready to run, half a chicken sticking out of her mouth. I tell her to relax, what’s the worst that could happen? (she hates it when I say that). All the drama seems to have played out, and we settle back down. But man, it was the closest we’ve gotten to hippos yet, couldn’t have been more than 8 meters. And they were piiiiissed OFF! They make these hectic, weird growling sounds when they’re angry, and it’s quite loud.

Annelie finishes her meal, and I down my second Fanta (I’m going to have to go into rehab to recover from my addiction to the Orange Dragon. Anybody know a good Fanta and Savannah recovery clinic??) and we hail a taxi. Taxi arrives with torch and guides our way, but Annelie clings to my left arm, still in fight or flight mode. I have to admit, I was scanning every dark corner and bush with my own flashlight! The trick is NOT to shine a torch directly into their eyes, because it startles them and the storm. So you do this sweeping motion instead. The guard shows us the spot where one of the hippos tripped and fell (the crashing sound we heard... and felt).

We arrive back at the house and tell the others. They say “we know. Those two caught an awful bee in their bonnet and thumped their way past the porch earlier.” But not before crashing into a tree! They’re not very spatially aware, are they? They also mention that one hippo walked half way up the stairs to the porch before looking up, seeing lights and running off. Coooool :)

On the porch, I scan over the bank and water. Yellow eyes reflect back at me. Multiple, malice laden, hungry eyes sparkle back at me. I grab my binoculars and try my best to identify the owners. I count about 3 crocodiles and 2 hippos. We switch everything off and wait a while, since the hippos won’t come closer if we keep lighting them. A few minutes later we had a big fella grazing a few meters away from the porch. The crocodiles didn’t move. But I was willing to bet my bottom Shilling that there were many more of them tucked under the surf.

I’m setting my alarm for 05:00 tomorrow. I want to snap some pics of these guys coming out of the water. Or rather, returning to it.

Mosquito nets are pretty useless over the beds. And it’s so hot and humid! The nets just make it worse. There’s a fan in the room which I switch on, and it makes this high pitched squeaking sound as it pivots. Swell. Annelie and I are sleeping in separate beds (again). That’s just how we end up with our room assignments! Just as well, it’s too hot to have another body lying next to you.

Till tomorrow. Ima goin’ croc huntin’ (crickey!)

[G & A], out

Something there for me

PS: i fixed the comments

2009-07-20T19:42:00.000+01:00

My bad. Thought it would be sexy to have the comments section as part of the same page, instead of a pop up. Didn’t test it, of course. DOH! And I make a change today, only get internet access again in a week, and well, ja.

So all fixed. Don’t be shy!

19 July, Day 36: and then there was this Cheshire cat...

2009-07-19T19:44:00.000+01:00

Mattie is sticking us for breakfast at the hotel and we arrive at 08:00. Pretty good spread of chow, didn’t expect anything less from a 5 star joint. Eggs, bacon, croissants, all sorts of juices, the works. Feel like royalty.

Last night Annelie spoke to her mom about Walter (the Amoeba). A medical expert down south reckons she should organise another course of quite potent antibiotics, Flagyl to rid her of her unwanted guest. They also reckon should you choose to ignore Walter too long he’ll be selling upscale apartments in her liver, kidneys and the penthouse suites in her brain to his new extended family of Clan Walter. And once the whole family moves in, you’re boned. As in, you almost need chemo to get rid of them. So, we’re off to the nearest chemist first to pick up a batch of heavy weapons. Playtime is over, asshole!

While we park off in town, we also refuel and do all the pre-flight checks. We’re back on the road by about 10:00, pass a lot of rice paddies on the way. Fanie gets pulled over about an hour later for speeding, and doesn’t have enough Ugandan shillings to pay the spot fine. He’s expected to park the vehicle until he can pay the fine. He says that he can’t do that and that the officer should let him off with a warning. The officer asks why he should do that. He replies because the officer is a good man. The officer asks what currency does he have. He says Kenyan Shillings. The officer gladly accepts 1000 KSH and lets him off with a warning. Fanie thanks the officer. The officer no doubt pockets the money. Just another day in paradise.

By almost noon we hit the Kenyan / Ugandan border. I’m immediately confused. I ask in quite seriousness if we’re sure this is a border post. Because there are asphalt roads all the way. Trimmed gardens and grass. NO chaos. No money vendors swarming the vehicle. No old, sad, broken trucks and chickens and bikes and crowds. Lots of parking. I’m a little taken aback. We park the vehicles and walk over to the big concrete and glass building (also, in a well maintained condition). It kind of resembles a flight control tower. Step into a very organised and clean office, friendly gentlemen in bright traditional Kenyan garb invites us to sit. We hand him the carnets and he points us in the direction of immigration. Off we go, fill in the cards, get the stamps. Walk over to fetch the carnets, handshake and away we go. Smooth. Real smooth. I’m beginning to think this is going to be a first. Excellent service, sunshine day, birds chirping (yeah, this border post even has BIRDS!). Drive the vehicles over to the Ugandan side and start all over again.

Still a pretty building, clearly painted a short while ago. Go through the motions, but the clerks behind the counters have way bigger attitude problems (my take on Kenya thus far. Arrogant morons, some of them). Hand over the carnets while we deal with immigration. On the way back we hit a snag. Long story short but the $40 we paid for a temporary vehicle license (i.e. for the privilege to drive on Kenyan roads) is now invalid, since we left the country. We argue that it’s still valid, for at least another month, says so on the disc. The argue that this is not the case. We say that the border official at Busia assured us it’s ok, since we told them of our travel intentions. They stick to their guns. 4 Pissed of Souf Afriken Males. Around and around we go, we demand to see the Road Act, article 7b that deals with these discs, they say they don’t have it on them. We want to see the boss. He goes to see the boss. Back to square one. We explain that this is utter bullshit. We want to see the boss. They look at the carnets and see 3 of the 4 vehicles are classified “pick ups”, Dirk’s Toyota is a “station wagon”. Pick-ups are commercial vehicles, according to them, so another $40. We argue that they’re private vehicles. They stick to their guns. In between all of this we learn that if we say we’re only in Kenya for 7 days, we don’t need to pay for the vehicles. But that’s ONLY if they’re NOT commercial vehicles. Which they’re not. But they think they are. We demand to see the boss.

Eventually we get to see Mr Personality. He repeats what’s been said. We explain our situation, on how 2 wrongs can’t make a right, on how we were duped, we prove that we were only in Kenya for 5 days the first time ANYWAY, so we overpaid. The other customs clerk still fights his case (the little weasel). The Boss explains how he can’t bend the rules because his colleagues made a mistake. Round and round we go. Eventually he instructs the peon to give us 7 days and let it be. Peon, now dejected since his authority has been overruled takes about 5 months to walk back to his desk, fill in the forms, in duplicate since they now need to keep a record of this, before handing it back to us. We thank him anyways.

Off to the police desk to sign in the book. Again, shocked! Clean office, police officer standing up straight, as opposed to slouching over the counter, barely swatting the flies crowding him, and he takes our details one by one, double checking all the info. Shocking. Usually I just fill in any crap, Name: Daffy Duck, Occupation: Meat Popsicle... and so on. No no no, that’s not how it goes in THIS office. He even stamps the carnets with his official stamp, which is a first.

It is now 13:00. We’ve now been here for over 2 hours. The rest complete their inputs. I find Annelie making friends again with the street vendors (all kids). Meet a most inspiring young gentlemen, Wilkins. Chat a bit, he’s clearly a diamond in this rough. And a DAMN good salesmen! Almost had me handing over my cell phone so I can buy a new one! Sneaky sneaky. I pay him a few hundred shillings and Annelie gives them a stack of pens, about 2 each. Also hand each of them a banana or three. Feel very humbled by that little interaction with Wilkins.

Anecdote: When you go the AA for the Carnet de Passages, you tell the useless bastard at the desk that they should NOT classify a PRIVATE, enclosed DOUBLE CAB bakkie as a “Pick up”. The engine capacity should also be indicated as “2.99 litres” and not “3” or above.

On our way again, rubbish asphalt. It’s been driven to destruction by these huge trucks. And I suppose it gets quite hot here, so the road has been remoulded to resemble a failed pottery class project. You end up driving in these ditches and if you want to change lanes to pass a truck or whatever it feels exactly like wake boarding! I’m a rubbish wake boarder. This wasn’t any better. I handle it with my usual flair.

Anecdote: damn I’m good.

Later the afternoon we arrive in Eldoret. We got a hot tip from Nat (of Adrift fame) that we should totally check out Raj’s place, the Nariberi River Camp. We do, and we are not disappointed. It has to be the most well thought out site I’ve seen to date. All plants and forest almost, the stands have a big entertainment area, with a washing line, a basin for washing up, benches, 2 grills... all covered by a high straw roof. But the real surprise was yet to come. At reception I hang a left and see this big, dark portal heading into what seems like a tunnel. I head down it a bit, thinking I’ll just peek my head in. The tunnel just keeps going, and going, and going. It’s lined with flower beds with all sorts of plants, and the ceiling has clear Perspex panels every few meters for light.

So, how deep does the rabbit hole go?

Quite a while.

And just like Alice, I finally exit the tunnel into a hidden world. A big, round bar and lounge area, with lots of couches and nooks to chill in. Off to the side is a pool table, the other, a poker table. A huge hearth dominates one lounge area. Behind it, a water feature sprouts water into a channel that criss crosses through it all (and I later traced all the way down into the forest). The whole thing is covered in a thatch roof with the same clear panel to allow natural light in. Beautiful. But that's not all. It leads out into cascades of tables, ending in a bright blue swimming pool with a little water fall. Beyond that is another entertainment area with its own little bar, big grassy area and finally, a forest. All very tastefully decorated, and all stunning. What’s cool is that from the reception (on the higher level) all you see looking down is this dome, with clear panels. Only once you’ve taken the plunge into the tunnel does the whole design become apparent. No pot smoking caterpillars though.

Annelie is dealing with the antibiotics as best she can. It’s quite powerful stuff. Makes her ratty, anxious, emotional, suicidal, paranoid, tired and gives her heart palpitations. Eish. She’s doping herself with some Xanor, just a quarter tablet, to even it out. She had a half today but it’s WAY too much, almost clocked her out. She was as cool as a green banana. So only quarters from now on, let’s see how it goes.

I made some hash browns (artappel koekies) tonight, which went well with the steaks and salads (Marietta makes KILLER salad!!). The dinner conversation generally centred around our next moves. We want to enter the Masai Mara to catch a glimpse of the Migration. All the critters should be in the process of returning there, but we need to find out first if it’s even on. The migration process, as Fanie elegantly puts it, is like a gathering of clouds. More and more clouds gather until finally, almost random, it starts to rain. Why and when the beasts decide that that critical mass has been reached, no one knows. So if we arrive too early, we won’t see it. Just a bunch of animals biding their time. And at $60 per person per night, and given our tight schedule to reach Zanzibar in 2 weeks, we REALLY want to time it right. The guys put some calls in, as well as chatting to the guy in charge of the overlander (that’s a big truck full of back packers, that travel from camp to camp. The trucks are kitted out with kitchens, bunks, the works!) about what they know. Raj may also have some contacts in Kenya, so we’ll chat tomorrow and see.

Till then.

[G & A], out

Before you slip into unconsciousness, I’d like to have another kiss

18 July, Day 35: Due south

2009-07-18T15:09:00.001+01:00

Slept better than Moses in a basket. Woke up a few times, thought I heard hippos outside the tent. Ignored it, Nile whispering sweet nothings to me. We’re heading back to Jinja today, and it’s a helluva journey. After we pack up and have breakfast, it’s quite warm again. Annelie rinses some washing in the river before we strip down again and get our bath on. One last time. We’re waiting for the others to join us so that we can start the trek back to the border and onwards. The idea is to work our way back so that we’re in striking distance of the border tomorrow. We’re not crossing the border in Busia again (for obvious reasons, and it would be a detour for where we wanna end up. So Malaba it is.

Mattie, Marietta, Fanie and Hannelise joins us just after 09:00 and we make another quick visit to the falls to pay for the camping fee. Goodbye, you magnificent thing!

Very pleasant drive back to the camp gates. More baboons with babies blocking our path, before disappearing into the bushes. Stop for a few pics. Drive through 100’s of butterflies dancing on the wind (and some being sucked into the radiator. The Bullet is quite unfazed). By 11:20 or so we reach the gate and exit the park.

Interesting bit of road ahead of us, since we have to go via Kampala again. Eish. Before then we reach that same stretch of road with the speed bumps every 10 meters, men at work creating more bumps. We partake in a bit of slaloming again, driving over the bumps at an angle. Not long before we arrive back in Kampala, but it seems a bit more chilled today. Maybe we missed the peak traffic, it’s only like 13:45 or so.

Strange thing happens next. We make a call to try and drive on the brand new road that they’re building here. Now usually they’ll block your way, and they do after a few meters with planks of wood riddled with nails. But before we get too close, a worker jumps up and MOVES the barrier... So we continue driving. Next barrier (past these big concrete blocks) again, a worker moves it for us. There’s other traffic going through this ballet as well, bicycles, motorbikes, odd van or car. But it’s clear that you’re not technically supposed to drive here. The “halt, who goes there, ok, wait while I move the spikes” goes on 3 more times before we reach the last one. And here we are halted, by a very angry looking Ugandan wearing a bright yellow safety vest. Dirk chats to him, think he played dumb and just said we’re lost, and we didn’t know, etc etc. He doesn’t buy it, calls someone on the cell phone, more gesturing. Speak to Dirk again, we’re stuck here, right at the END, by this last obstacle.

No problem. Nothing a 1000 UGs can’t fix. Smiling broadly, he welcomes us to his stretch of the road. We smile and wave.

Onward we go, driving through sugar plantations as far as you can see. We arrive back in Jinja around 16:50. Mattie and Marietta pulls into the Nile River Resort (yeah, that 5 star resort I wrote about earlier). We head on to Adrift, that 1^st camp site we checked out last week but camped at the Nile River explores instead. Still the same deal, we can’t park the vehicles next to the tents. No worries, we’re not cooking tonight. We’re opting for the restaurant instead. Couple of folks doing bungee jumps when we arrive, so out comes the big-huge lens and I’m snapping away. I offer to email the guys some pics, and they’re very chuffed.

We place our order for 19:30, Pizzas (the other grab pork snitchels) and hit the showers. Sit and have a drink, and right next to us in a bush two big spiders are prepping the parlour, probably putting their orders for chow in as well. Two crazy British chicks who I took bungee pics of buy me 2 large Nile beers (thanks!). Food arrives and we join the others. Nat, the manager (from Australia) is very friendly and makes chit chat. She buys us another round of beers! The other guys bail out, and I have to finish all the left overs. By the end of the night, I’ve had about 4.5 litres, excluding the sundown Savannah we had.

Needless to say, I slept like a rock.

Highlights: Free beer!

Morning bath in the Nile!

[G & A], out

Promise me you won’t stop when I say when

17 July, Day 34: Murchison Falls

2009-07-17T15:08:00.000+01:00

Totally flaked out on waking up for the sunrise. Damn. Today we want to go check out the star of the show, Murchison Falls. Only, we want to drive there and see it from above, since we've now seen it from below. The two Swiss campers (a Biochemist and Doctor) told us last night of a campsite right by the falls. The facilities are Spartan at best though. It's about an hour and a half drive to the falls from the Nile River Resort, on these bumpy roads. The option is to pack up totally, check out the falls and if it's ok we camp there. Or, leave everything here, drive to check the falls and return later. We're also keen on crossing the Nile via ferry to the other side and do a quick safari around the park. The ferry leaves at 10:00. It was 08:45.

Annelie and I opt for a quick saddle up, breakfast, shower and rush to the ferry. So do Marieke and Dirk. We're the last ones to leave the camp site (as usual). We wave Sidilla goodbye and blaze off into the sunrise. Everybody is queued up at the docks in line for the ferry when we arrive 4^th in line. A school-truck (flat bed truck with railings) arrives full of school kids. And we wait. And we wait. 10:00 am comes and goes. 10:30 comes and goes. And it's HOT! We park off under a tree and wait some more. Fanie and Dirk takes a car to the gate to find out what's up. I go chat to the other guys, when I get back to Annelie she's started her very own cult. Seems like the school kids have taken quite a shine to her, posing for pictures (there was a camera guy there, using an old film camera) and the teacher in charge asking her questions and so forth. Everyone was having a good time, including Annelie! They were posing with her while holding out her hair, to prove it's real and straight (they ALL had shaven heads, even the girls, and everyone was dressed in blue uniforms). I get asked to take pics with my camera so they can see what they look like on the digital screen, then I was roped into a photo session with the boat owners, and then I had to pose with them for photos. Quite funny. Some of the older gentlemen took quite a shine to Annelie also, requesting if they could have a personal pics with just them and Annelie. Meh, why not, all good fun. In the meantime, Dirk and Fanie return with some officials. It's 11:00 already. Long story short, but it was labelled as "human error". The ferry driver didn't organise enough diesel for the day, so he left the ferry right there to go organise more. Turns out he DID have enough diesel for two more trips, but still. What should have happened is that they should have organised it last night. In the parks board defence, they were very surprised at this and kicked some ass. Before long we where off, in this blazing heat. All the cars loaded up, school truck and this ferry became awfully cramped. More pics with Annelie (what am I, chopped liver??). Not long before we reach the other time and drive off into the park. Baboons everywhere, nursing baby baboons and scratching themselves.

And wow, what a treat. Some of the most green, lush and beautiful savannah we've ever seen (I must say, typing that is beginning to smack of cliché, but I'm truly limited in describing the indescribable!). Just wide, wide open spaces, dotted with thorn trees, or palms and chest high Elephant grass. Wildlife everywhere, Kob's, Water bucks, Buffalos, Warthogs, a whole TROOP of elephants, about 17 of them (one big fella scratching his side against a tree), Impala, a whole savannah FULL of Giraffe of every size, lots of birds (forgot all their names!), and rolling hills of green. Marieke has a natural talent for this kind of thing, her wildlife spotting ability unsurpassed. She radios in an antelope spotted in a tree. Dead, of course, it's head just hanging in the nook. Clearly a very big kitty dragged a kill up there. But to our dismay, no kitty was around to claim responsibility. Still. WOW. What a good spot! We reach a stop off point next to a river that flows back into the Nile, where we say cheers to Mattie and Fanie and drive the full circuit all the way back to the dock. Dirk, Marieke, Annelie and I continue on. Very interesting elephants along our way, including a lone, OLD, big fella, large tusks, just standing under a tree, taking a drink from the nearby waterhole now and again. Very cool, spend about 15 minutes just watching him, and him watching us. Such a noble spirit. We continue on. It's during this time that we reach our Northern most point of our journey: 2˚20'37" N (Lat) / 31˚33'52" E (Long). From this point forward, we're south bound, on our way home.

Back at the ferry, and it just docked, cars are driving off it. Two other vehicles muscle their way into the queue. The result is that Fanie and Mattie can't be on this particular trip and have to wait. Annelie expertly reverses the Bullet into position and we cast off. Funny thing happens while Mattie and co wait for the 15 minute return trip: a baboon jumps through the open passenger side window, into the cab and tries to steal whatever Mattie was stashing behind the seats. Marietta was scared senseless! Mattie charged the baboon, which give him one sour look before leaving the scene of his own volition. Cocky son of a gun.

Disclaimer: No damage was done, article stolen, or animals harmed in this production.

Onward to the falls proper, deeper into the national park. A few baboons hold us up as they crowd the road. They're very shy of cars though and duck into the bushes as we approach. The road turns a bit nasty, lots of sharp turns, sharp exposed rocks and potholes. A small inconspicuous board indicates "campsite" to the right. The first spot doesn't really inspire us with much mope, so we turn around and turn left into the second area. Time for low range. The path down to the river is all 4x4, at an incline of about 20 degrees down slope, lots of rocks. We park the bullet on the hill instead to do recon first. We're very pleased with what we find: 3 open lots, divided by trees all round, right next to the Victoria Nile (the "Nile's" name changes depending on which lake it flows out of). As it stands, we're above Murchison falls, which flows to the left and onward. The water is just one rapid on the next, if I had to grade it, I'd grade this entire stretch as one big grade 20. The river seems to flow violently in one direction on both banks, and then flow in the opposite direction in the middle!! It's all very beautiful and mesmerizing.

One or two other boggles, namely a little sandy bay, very inviting for a swim in the refreshing water, especially in this heat. The pod of 4 hippos lounging just a few meters away. The other two look more... prudent. Annelie and I choose the left most stand that leads to a little rocky platform, where previous campers created a fire pit. The spot overlooks the entire stretch of river, as far as you can see before it bends around the left to the falls. It also looks like a most excellent spot to chill and have a beer later, as well as take a splash, since it's unlikely hippos or crocs will hang around in this area (water is way to choppy).

Before we setup we take a trip further down the main road to the falls.

What amazing violence. Even with the windows closed you can already hear the roar. Difficult to explain what I was looking at. It's like somebody flipped a switch on a blender, frappe. Just one big mess of masses of water crashing into each other before cutting deep into black rocks to form the waterfall proper (also known as Kabalega Falls). It falls about 10 meters into another small pool and then again deeper, must be 50m down into nothing but foam and white water. It smashes into the left, then the right, then back to the left before finally becoming something more resembling a river further away. Back in '63, the only little bridge they built across this... madness... was destroyed during a flood.

But.. my word. Mesmerizing, hypnotic, raw. So loud, you can't hear yourself think. Not that you'd want to. I mean. Look at it!! I try again, in vain, to capture some of the essence of it, but there is no way a video camera or photo can cut it. Or rather, it's way beyond my ability to do so. The entire mass of the Nile (Victoria Nile, whatever) is forced through a relative door frame gap of unrelenting stone about 6 m wide, before it plummets about 120 m in three separate cascades.

Later on in the evening, we returned here to watch the sunset and Annelie and I spent a good half hour just sitting and chatting. I came to an epiphany that:

a) I'm in love with the Nile, which sparked the discussion if whether or not it's possible to be love struck by an inanimate subject

b) There is no such thing as an "off" day, for the falls. There's no "the Ocean looks so peaceful today, it's almost like a lake". The Nile, the waterfall, everything we're witnessing at this moment has been going and going and going like this for Millennia. Back when the Pharaohs and Cleopatra and all those folks where around, Kabalega was here. Maybe it was called something else. But this raw, unrelenting violence has almost always been here. 24/7/52/3000+. Wow.

Back at the camp, we had crackers with tuna and mayo and Doritos (cheese flavour) and enjoyed the brief tropical rainstorm (of exactly 37 rain drops) while sitting in our camp chairs on the rocky platform next to the bedlam, with a nice cold Savannah, of course. Before it got too dark, Annelie and I mentioned to Marieke that we will be taking our bath now, so they must kindly excuse us. We stripped down naked and plunged into the water, lather up in bio-soap and washing ourselves down with the lukewarm water (keeping an eye on the hippos. And hoping no enterprising crocodile happens to be surfing some gnarly rapids at that point). We felt like royalty!

Made a huge campfire to keep the hippos at bay, had some wine and tucked in at 21:00, after dowsing the fire a bit. Anything after this time is fair play for any hippo, and I suppose they'd want to get out of the water at this point. (read: we were way too shit scared to sit there by ourselves after Dirk and Marieke tucked in!)

Highlights: Bathing in the Nile, like a Pharaoh!

Seeing lots of wildlife!

Best campsite so far, by far.

[G & A], out

*instrumental*

16 July, Day 33: rolling down the river

2009-07-16T19:40:00.000+01:00

Making bacon this morning. Restarted the fire, was attempting to chop wood but this axe is way too blunt and it’s way too hot, and it’s only 09:00! Get bacon and eggs going and all fed by 11:00. Have it on some left over, freshly baked beer bread. We’ve got a little downtime until our boat trip at 14:30, so we make the most of it by doing nothing. It. IS. SO. HOT!

Walk up to the lodge, through a little path underneath a canopy of trees. Park off on the chairs, Mattie buys us cold drinks. I think I’m addicted to Fanta, orange. It’s soooo hot. Lodge bar reckons only 30 degrees. But this humidity is the real killer. It costs $10 for a splash in their pool. Steep, considering we’re paying $10 per night to camp! But at this stage, I’d pay a 100. I hop through the shower for the 3^rd time this morning, for free, at the camp site. Hot...

At around 14:15 we drive down to the dock and board the catamaran. We’re joined by quite a few Dutch speaking nationals as we cast off. Even before we do, we spot a rather large pod of hippos across the way, and Buffalo on the bank. We continue up stream towards Murchison falls, spotting many more hippos and baby hippos, crocodiles, fish eagles, loads of buffalos and even 2 Crown Cranes, Uganda’s national bird! The guide tells us this is quite a rare spot. The banks are high with grass so all sorts of birds and animals can conceal themselves easily from view. I manage to snap quite a few really nice photos. As soon as we approach a pod of hippos for instance, they kill the engines and we’re instructed to be silent. The hippos generally allow us to get close-ish, which is more than close enough for this big big lens I have attached to my Canon! The severe sun and heat is somewhat lessoned from the cool breeze coming off the water, as the boat cruises on.

As we approach the falls the guide points out a blue signpost on the right bank. This is the spot where a certain Mr Ernst Hemmingway made a crash landing in 1954, in the treetops. He was rescued a few days later, walking away with a broken arm. Interestingly, on his rescue flight out of Uganda they had another crash! Which he also walked away from.

The water is slightly more choppy here, framed with a subtle roar in the distance. Closer to the falls there is a little bay off to the left. The approach looks like something out of the Lost World or Jurassic Park, high overgrown green cliffs and rocky outcroppings. And of course, the 25 crocodiles lounging in the bay off the left. The guide mentions that this is called the Crocodile Pool (as opposed to the Voodoo lounge, or piggy splashy pool). They camp here because they’re opportunists: they gobble up any dead fish that met their end in the violent falls just around the corner. Coming back to Mr Hemmingway, you can imagine that he may have been quite perturbed by the presence of the crocs and the multiple pods of hippos in the area.

The boat moors off a rock in the middle of the stream (far away from the croc buffet) so we can disembark and take touristy shots. I take touristy shots. Mattie slips and falls. Bounces back up, all good, just a bruised ego. All done, we board again and head back. Just in time to race a MASSIVE storm cloud rolling in from the direction of the falls. Almost like the waterfall demands penance for our intrusion. I think I shot some of the most beautiful pictures of the trip during this time, full-awesome, mayor dramatic skies, gusts of winds that make even the hardiest hippos duck for cover below water. And our little boat racing to stay ahead... and losing. Frame all of this with a sunset of epic proportions and, well, I was in heaven.

At around 18:15 or so we dock again and disembark, running to the vehicles. I just had a realisation that our tent is half open (because of that damned heat!) and we kind of left our washing et al outside. The Bullet roars over the dark red, bumpy dust road as big rain drops hammer the windshield. Still hot and humid though, and I drive with the windows open to smell that fresh wet earth and scents rolling off the Savannah. Mud is splashing everywhere by now and I engage 4x4 (smiling slightly. This is way too much fun).

We arrive at base camp to find it pretty much destroyed. Well, the gazebo is a heap of metal and tarp, the tents are still standing, barely. Amos (our day-shift guard) had very thoughtfully closed our tents and packed the perishables (which was under the gazebo) in a spot out of the rain, and out of harm. Still wearing my swimming shorts from earlier, I just remove my shirt and dive into the carnage. Lightning flashes in the distance (so, exactly how good of a lightning rod DOES a gazebo make??). The 3 other guys jump in and we raise the gazebo and start knock in pins. Also tie the guy ropes down and add more ropes to the joints to support it in this wind. Bring the vehicles closer to act as anchors. All done, and holding! Just in time for the storm to pass, and the rain to stop.

Typical.

But still fun!

We all laugh and thank Amos ever so much for helping us out. Interestingly, that fire pit was still going through all of this, and it takes no time flat to stoke it up all the way again. First, we re-organise everything into a working kitchen again and get going. Salad, lamb chops, rolled lamb (yum! Deboned lamb joint but rolled up into a tube) and braai rolls (kinda like the bread I baked last night, but rolls.) Delicious. Of course Amos gets some chow as well, as well as a handsome reward in cold hard cash.

Annelie is feeling much better still, after her second round of antibiotics. Walter doesn’t seem pleased.

Highlights: Witness the crash site of Ernest Hemmingway

Hippos! Crocs! Buffalo! Oh My!

Workin' on my killer tan

Annelie feeling better

[G & A], out

Taking my time

15 July, Day 32: To Murchison falls

2009-07-15T19:39:00.000+01:00

Annelie is feeling better today, which is great. She slept a lot better too, we all did. The camp is up and ready to go by 09:00 and we head out to the Murchison falls National park.

And, it’s Marietta’s birthday today! Cheers and congrats all round. Marieke and Dirk hung flowers on Mattie and Marietta’s tent, and her birthday gift was a 2 Stoney Ginger beers (her favourite) wrapped in plastic with flowers. Very cool :)

Stop off at the shopping complex to buy lots of drinking water and pick up a new MTN simcard, which I can hopefully use for 3G access. On the road again!

TRAFFIC!! Oh my Lord, the Traffic. Grid lock, morning traffic, absolute bedlam and chaos. Bouda-Bouda’s overloaded with furniture stacked 2 meters high, sugarcanes, planks, people, you name it. Traffic wardens trying to direct it all, the 4 4x4’s (Powered by Souf Afrikan driving Vernuf) give as much as we get (that’s is, not a single inch!) in this madness). Fanie gets reproached by a traffic warden: “We drive in a single lane here!”. Clearly she needs to open her eyes a bit more, I see 4 lanes in this round about (which I have aptly renamed a “circus”, since that’s what they’re called in London, and it seems more fitting).

Slow going to get out of Kampala, but we make it eventually (not before a pit stop for Annelie). Off we go, with a sigh of relief. Beautiful fresh asphalt all the way and we cruise along at 120km/h. Then something strange happens. I radio over the 2-way about these strange white marks on the shoulder of the road, every 10 meters. Probably nothing, may be a construction artefact. A few kilometres further, we discover the answer. Speed bumps. Speed bumps, every 10 meters, without fail, for what was going to be 6 kilometres. WTF?

Ingenious, that’s what. As Dirk aptly put it: “Say what you want about these bumps... they WORK”. The intention was clearly to slow down traffic for the construction crews downstream. They really did work. But we were well tired of them after about 1 km!!

We eventually adopt a slalom technique, where we veer right to left, left to right to drive over the bumps diagonally. This worked out quite well, and we managed an even pace, other traffic notwithstanding.

Turn off the sexy asphalt onto a dirt road that’s a little worn by weather. Arrive at the gates to the park were we’re taken to town again, $210 per vehicle to enter, but we stay for 3 nights. Again they have issue with $100 US dollar notes with a series date of earlier than 2004. Again we argue that it’s legal tender. Again we get stonewalled. Again we have to swap them out for other currency.

Anecdote: when travelling Africa, exchange LOTS of US dollars, so you don’t run out like we did. And make sure they’re all of a series later than 2004. Unless, of course, you enjoy arguing with underpaid government officials...

Enter the park and we’re treated to a beautiful drive through thick forests creating a dense canopy over the bright red, dusty road. Starts to rain too, which makes it even more interesting and beautiful. See lots of baboons, warthogs and antelope.

We arrive at the Nile River Lodge (not to be confused with any of the other Nile river lodges around here). Mattie would like to stay in a lodge and treat Marietta on her birthday. No luck, all the lodges this and the other side of the Nile are fully booked. We arrive at the Red Chilli camp (yeah, it’s a franchise). No bars or Mosques or dogs around. Good start. Crappy camp site though. Speak to Andy, the manager about boat trips on the Nile and safaris etc, and book a sunset cruise to the falls tomorrow.

All done, we opt for the Nile River Lodge’s campsite. Nice grassy patch on a hill, 5 mins walk from the lodge (and use of the bar), with a staggering view of the Nile! But, it’s going to be very very hot up here, good reason to break out the gazebo I’ve been lugging around all this time. There is a shower and toilet off to one side, boxed in with green corrugated zinc sheets. Very... interesting.

Spot LOADS of hippos in the water and you can hear their calls all the while. There are 2 other campers here, their tent off to one side.

Our guard this evening, Sidilla who will be looking out for us tonight. Dirk and Marieke breaks out the deboned lamb joint for this evening’s meal, and I bake a 1KG beer bread. This takes about 2 hours to bake, since I used to bigger cast iron pot. Doh! No matter, we have the fresh bread with apricot jam as desert, and there’s a lot leftover for breakfast tomorrow. We share some with Sidilla. The 2 other campers arrive back, they’re from Sweden. I share some of our bread and jam with them too.

Off to bed, to the soothing sounds of Hippos, Fish Eagles and the Nile thundering in the distance.

Highlights: Beer bread!

This view!

Hippos!

[G & A], out

The wheels on the bus goes round and round

14 July, Day 31: One month and counting

2009-07-14T19:38:00.000+01:00

Got Annelie some coffee and rusks in bed. She’s looking frazzled, didn’t get much sleep. Don’t blame her, the bar was loud till 23:40, the guards at the gate make a racket and the dogs... the DOGS! Incessant barking all night long. Coupled with this cacophony, Walter had Annelie running for the porcelain throughout. Oh, and our zip to our tent was broken, so it stood half open. I counted a grand total of (at least) 11 mosquitos in our tent this morning, all fat and well fed. Faaaaantastic. Fanie helped us out later on, pinched the zipper closed a bit with pliers. Good as new! But we were still chowed last night

Mattie is still man down, on some myprodols. Grab breakfast and a quick shower. Mattie and Dirk are off to town to get the Ford checked out. Annelie and I head to town and take a LEFT at the only traffic light in town, instead of the right we took yesterday. Arrive at a fully decked out shopping complex, with a Shoprite, Game, MTN, 3 banks, 2 foreign exchanges, fuel stops etc etc. And, a chemist. Annelie decided to skip go and head to the chemist instead, since she knows what’s up. Explains the symptoms to the chemist and gets the required antibiotics. Apparently, Walter can make a comeback tour again and again. If that happens, she’ll need intravenous injections for 21 days straight to clear Walter out. Problem, since we won’t be stationary in one place for 21 days. And I hate injections, both receiving and administrating. Let’s hope this round evicts our squatter for good.

Off to game, huge! Stroll around, buy Fritos chips and water so Annelie can start eat something and start taking her meds immediately. Do some shopping for supplies. Check out the tents in the back, our zipper broke last night! So the tent won’t close entirely, not good for keeping mosquitoes out.

Draw money, grab a few things from Shoprite and head back to camp. Go laze by the pool in the sun (its soooo hot!) and my best to keep cool. Everyone is kinda doing the same thing. I hang out at the bar area for the free wifi, but it’s SLOOOOOOOOOOW. Lots of tropical rains in the afternoon, we had a flash shower just after we arrived yesterday. Today was a few drops. They have these super comfortable wicker chairs that you can lounge on. Great for comfort. Not so great because their full of fleas! Courtesy of the dog and numerous goats and chickens cruising the yard. I get bitten lots of time, 7 times around my left elbow by the time the shooting stops.

We have a guest tonight, Geriesa from the Netherlands. She’s on tour here through Uganda, Kenya, Tanzania and Zanzibar. She’s doing the river rafting thing tomorrow so we have lots to talk about. Mattie is up back to his old self again, whiskey in hand. Dirk swears by his muti (that’s African witchcraft), so whisky it is! I setup the laptop and show the others our video. Share some food and hospitality before we’re all off to bed. Check in on Annelie, still a bit shaky. That’s a wrap for today. Tomorrow it’s off to Murchison falls.

Anecdote: we’ve been on the road for a month!

Highlights: We’ve been on the road for a month!

[G & A-Moeba], out

The best of you

13 July, Day 30: Kampala

2009-07-13T16:19:00.000+01:00

Slept very well, dreamt of seahorses and unicorns. And raptors. They cannot be trusted! Kicked out of bed earlier than usual, checked on the bullet, which was parked next to the ablution block. They have a power socket right there in the men’s bathroom, and I had a black extension cord snaking out of it into the cabin to keep the fridge running (better to ask forgiveness than permission). I befriended one of the cleaning staff, an elderly gentlemen named Bobbo yesterday and mentioned that I need to keep the power plugged in. He said he’ll make sure it does, and true to his word, it was still hooked up. They use the dame plug for cleaning etc. Later on we rewarded him with a few thousand shillings and 3 pairs of clothes from Annelie’s stash, for his granddaughters :)

Fanie’s birthday today! Congrats and pics. Coffee, breakfast at a little shop just outside the gate. A breakfast chapatti with egg, avo and onions, DELICIOUS! On the road again by 09:15 or so, we’ll be heading out the capital today, Kampala. The road takes us along v very much the same route as yesterday morning to the backpackers lodge, and over the dam spanning this part of the Nile river. I ask Annelie to take a pic of the “Nile River sign”. What I didn’t notice where the military personnel chilling underneath it!!!

We are flagged down and interrogated. I explain with zeal that it was an honest mistake, we’re dumb tourists from Cape Town and we just wanted a pic of the sign. We show the pics and are forced to delete them. We apologise again but still, we have to reverse for further questioning. I radio to the others that we may be delayed a bit. 10 minutes of more reviewing all the pics on my point-and-click, deleting anything that may look like sensitive info and getting another lecture we are finally allowed to continue.

Phew.

And DOH!

Comparatively the rest of the day’s driving was uneventful. We reach Kampala about 2 hours later and it’s quite clear from the offset that the city is quite mad. Kampala traffic makes Arusha look well planned, organised and streamlined! Lots of little streams of the side of the road, where truck drivers and motorcyclists (bouda-bouda’s, motorbike taxis) have parked their vehicles right in the middle of it for a car wash. The city is staggeringly huge, with rolling hills packed with houses. Marieke mentions that back in the day it was called the city of seven hills. I counted more, but that should give you an idea. Pass the Mandela stadium off to the right. Roll past more shops and houses perched on very unstable looking mounds of dirt. Eventually pull into the Red Chilli camp site. It’s another back packers lodge cum campsite, but it looks less busy here. We decide it’s as good a place as any and setup shop near the gate. A few hours later we realise the error of our ways: there’s a bar right across the road. The others are quite sleep deprived at this point, but Mattie speaks to the bar / restaurant owner and he assures us it will only be noisy till 22:00. Dogs. Lots of barking dogs. Again. No sleep in Uganda, it would seem.

More bad news. Mattie is feeling feverish again, cold sweats etc. May be malaria again, but he reckons it’s food poisoning. We think it’s a simple combo of dehydration, over exposure to the sun and lack of sleep. Nevertheless, he takes a time out. Later we decide we may as well stay here another day, so he can recover and we can all take a load off. The vehicles need attention too, the Ford needs new shocks, the Colt needs a new timing chain, the Toyota needs new oil. We were going to grab a bite to eat at a restaurant, but given Mattie’s condition, we’ll just braai here instead.

Annelie and I take the Bullet for a spin around town, after asking a guide that dropped some folks off at the camp site for directions. We get it wrong and get lost somewhere in some industrial area. The traffic!! THE TRAFFIC!! And the half meter deep potholes! Reminds us of the killer rapids we faced-off yesterday. Man, it’s beyond belief. And when we try to make a u-turn, we find the way back closed off and on detour. Lost in Kampala without a GPS. Or map. Swell.

Good thing I noticed a few landmarks, the Mandela Stadium being a right big one. This time we pass in front of it, so we know we’re going in the right general direction. More landmarks, schools, shanty shacks gives us clues. We locate the campsite shortly before 17:00 and decide to call it a day.

Back at the camp, Mattie is still chilling. Annelie starts feeling that same ol feeling. Walter, the Amoeba, is back. And he’s inviting all his bestest friends north of the colon for a killer banquet in Annelie’s gut. She’s feeling both nauseous and runny at the same time. Walter is back with a vengeance.

Food was great, lamb chops we bought in Karen with salad I had to make (since Annelie was down and out, and drained).

Anecdote: I make fantastic salad.

Back to the hospital tomorrow.

Highlights: NOT being arrested by Ugandan military!

[G & A-Moeba Walter], out

I need a little room to breath

12 July, Day 29: let's get wet

2009-07-12T16:18:00.000+01:00

No sleep. None. Nada. Nie eers ‘n bietjie nie.

The catch with a backpackers lodge is that it’s generally expected. The assholes kept playing LOUD obnoxious music till 6 o’clock in the morning. I got up at 04:00 to take a leak and to check it out, and there was a grand total of 7 people there: 2 blonde chicks and 5 guys. I took stock of the situation rather quickly and decided that the reason the entire camp was losing sleep was entirely down to the 2 chicks who wouldn’t just go to bed, with or without one of the cavemen trying to score. Remove the blondes, and the whole party will collapse. On the other side, some guys just can’t get their shit together. Close the deal or call it a night, if you’re STILL trying to score by 04:00 (hell, by 01:00) it’s not going to happen.

Meh.

So. No sleep. On a day I would have really liked to have some. Wake up bleary eyed. I take solace in the fact that at least one of those idiots are hanging out their asses today.

Coffee and rusks jala-jala, grab my jacket (for in case it’s hella cold when we get back), sunscreen, rocking my swimming trunks (leave the banana hammock in the tent. Uganda is not ready for its glory) and head to the truck. Everyone piles in and transported to the other backpackers lodge for breakfast. Quite a good setup they have, hard boiled eggs, chapattis, toast, butter, jams, honey, coffee, bananas. Bees everywhere, as in, IN the honey and jam. That’s really fresh honey! I make another banana-jam chapatti and try to store up enough energy for our 30 KM, all day long boogie down the Nile. Luke and the Danish babes (Sanne and Kathrine, NOT Sienna and Catherine as I spelt it yesterday) are there and join us at the table. We also meet 2 lads from London, Paddy and Tom. They’re doing some interesting shit out here! Basically it’s a bicycle powered cinema they trek around the country and have viewings at various villages and so forth. I later found out that they started with a similar thing back in London, where they cut the power and the whole club is powered by the patrons, peddling about 6 bikes. They stop, and the music dies. Pretty awesome, checkit: www.CitiesInTheDark.com. Tom is doing a documentary about it all. I also found out later that they’ve covered quite a few interesting events in Kenya (was it Kenya?) like a bike race. Funny story, I should tell you sometime...

Anyhoo, we chat more about what to expect today. Annelie and I watched the video of yesterdays group at the bar/lounge last night and... ja. It’s gonna be wild.

One of the guides calls us to the grassy area and gives us the run down. Gear around the corner, no loose items, expect to get wet (duh), sunscreen, sunscreen, and sunscreen, make sure you sign your indemnity form etc.

Grab a life jacket and nipple-pink helmet. Lather on another layer of sunscreen, the sun is already out and ferocious! Ons gan lekker kak vandag. Back on the trucks and busses, take off the life jacket and helmet cus it’s blistering hot and we’re off. We travel over a dam and then into some more rural villages and dust roads for about half an hour before we arrive at the launch point. Lots of activity there already, with more trucks towing the inflatable’s arriving in waves. I kept feeling like I was in the way! If it wasn’t an inflatable dropping on my head I was getting run over by huge rafts with legs. Bunch of local present too, doing their washing in the river. I’m sure they’ve seen this exercise countless times: the guides shouting out instructions, rafts being inflated and deployed and lots of white people with more money than sense or brains looking both excited and nervous at the same time.

We’re told that we need to make groups of seven, and as luck would have it, we were! Annelie, me, the other Souf Afrikan, 2 Danish babes and the London Massive. Instructions are to find our guide, Paulo and report for duty. Off we go. I try and organise a team name for us. Nobody likes “Chocolate Puma”. I call us “Chocolate Puma” for the rest of the day anyway.

Paulo was born in Jinja (probably in the Nile, I comment. He agrees). He’s such a cool laid back Ugandan, super dry sense of humour and a damn good guide at the end of it all. He takes us through the motions, the various commands he may use, like :

“hard left / hard right” - everyone on the left / right side of the boat

“get down” – stand upright and do the Robot, or any other sweet, sweet ass disco you can manage. Kidding, it means get your ass in the boat, and hold on for dear life

“Lean in” – grab the rope, paddle locked between your arm, side of boat and lap (as to not whack yourself / someone else with it) and lean to the centre of the boat

“Take a breath” – we’re going under, inhale

Forward – all paddle forward

Backward – all paddle backward

Left forward, right backward / right forward, left backward - ...

Hard forward – give it horns! No no, keep both hands on the paddle, just paddle really hard (and still do horns, for extra points)

Stop – stop (now, what’s that sound, everybody look what’s going down. Yeah, EVERYTIME that song played in my head)

Run through these commands a few times. We’re spread out evenly over the boat, 2 front, 4 middle and 2 back. Paulo does the steering. The boat gets flipped deliberately so we can get a feel for it. We spend some time underneath the flipped boat just to see it’s perfectly safe, boat gets flipped back while we hold on to it (so we duck underneath the flipping flipped boat, popping out the other side.). Get a few rounds of practice getting back into the boat, how to help someone get in the boat, how to work the entertainment centre, order chicken or beef. We also learn about the kayak support team. These guys are super quick in the water and they’ll be the guys saving your bacon in the event of an emergency. We are shown how to hang on to the front and the back (if you hang on the back, you must help propel the kayak by kicking).

Before long we’re all off, all 88 of us cruising down our first rapid! A mere grade 2, nothing hectic at all. Fun! The next rapid is a grade two which we bail out and swim through, just to feel what that feels like. MORE fun! I’m beginning to think I may just swim the Nile instead.

Back in the boat and we find our first grade 4, which is the rapid I spent some time with swimming yesterday, at our camp site. We pretty much nailed it, but it was a bit rougher than the grade 2’s. Cheers all round and everyone feels much more confident about doing this thing. Go Chocolate Puma! (still doesn’t catch on). Rib Cage was next, so named due to the shallow rocks lurking underneath. This is exactly the reason that, when you’re inside the boat that you should kneel, since rocks can hit us from below. Ideally, you’d want to stay in the boat for this one, and fortunately we do.

Time for the training wheels to come off. Our first big grade 5 of the day: Bujagall Falls. Lots of shallow rock and a backwash that will strip the white from your teeth. No worries, we totally own that shit.

before we get to a biggie: 50/50. So called, since there is a 50/50 chance we’ll flip. Feeling very confident in our river mastery, we boldly give it horns. And flip the bejeezes out of the boat! In the drink we go (just chill, don’t fight it, wait for the life jacket to pop you back up). I laugh my ass off. This is really so much fun!

A few little rapids in between, total gunga and surf city before we hit our first grade 5 of the day: Silverback! Just like the gorilla, this is one big hairy mother. Before each rapid we all park off in little eddies or capes, outside the current to wait for the videographer and support boats and Kayaks to get into position. During this time Paulo goes through how we are going to approach a particular rapid and what to expect. Things like, should you fall out, try to stay with the boat. In other cases he advises that you get away from the boat as quickly as you can, and so on.

The other boats make a circuit and approach Silverback, one by one. We go “ooooo!” and “oooow!!” and “should he’s leg bend that way??” as we wait our turn. A few boats make it with flair. Another note about some of the bigger rapids: they usually have 2 or 3 approaches. So they can be sub rated as a 4 and 5, for instance, depending on the route we take. We opt for maximum carnage!

Off we go, “Hard forward”, HARD FORWARD, GET DOWN! My stomach sticks in my throat as we’re plunged 2 meters into a torrent of white water, filling the raft instantly. White knuckle grip on the rope, everybody is screaming. Somewhere in the distance I hear a maniacle laughter, and realise it’s me!

About 2 hours later we clear the rapid, in one piece and floating! W00t! (I watched the video afterwards, it was more like 10 seconds. Time is relative when a ton of water is trying to kill you).

In between fighting for air and screaming like little girls, we paddle to the next bad boy, Jaws. I don’t recall it being a especially tough one, but the same sequence of events apply: stop, have a chat, line em up, into the grinder, sink / swim, full joy.

In between the carnage, there are 2 lull periods of gentle paddling and just floating down stream. These little interludes are partly due to the new hydro electric dam being constructed, so the flow of the Nile has been altered. The sun is blazingly hot, so these respites are a perfect opportunity to re-lather with the sun cream and take a little splash off the boat. Also a good time to get to know your neighbours and we make chit chat about this and that. Oh, and it’s also cheesy joke telling time! Paulo has a wide repertoire of both PG and filthy cheesy numbers and coupled with his dry soft spoken Ugandan demeanour provides ample in flight entertainment.

Over lunch time we dock with the support boats, each with one oarsman. To see these guys in action is a marvel in itself. They stand upright in a inflatable that’s almost double ours and row with these massive wooden oars. To watch them fly over the rapids with such non chalant grace is a real treat. Lunch is a light affair of a quarter pineapple with glucose bisquits (that’s how I say “biscuits”). They chop pineapples in quarters, slice them along the skin and chop the quarter into about 7 pieces. The pineapples where sugar-sweet, right from the husk. Also took some time to drink water (not like we needed MORE) which is tied to the back of our raft.

“Forward”. Lots more fun to be had. The yellow make a line for the shore, they’re on half-day rides.

Retrospect , Bubogo, Itanda falls, followed by Bad place (also known as Kalagala falls). It doesn’t take an expert to figure out why it’s called “Bad Place”.

Vengeance, Hair of the dog, Kula shaker and Nile special are next (little lull and more paddling in between).

And then, Other Place.

The big boy, the grade 6 and last rapid of our journey. I’m really struggling with the words to try and describe the sheer malice and power of this thing. You have rapids in rapids folding onto waves of white water 3 meters high. This is after you’ve plunged 2 meters off a waterfall, of more violent water of a river that will (WILL!) kill you if you attempt it. We approach the death trap with caution and paddle “HARD FOWARD” towards a rocky outcropping off to the right where we disembark and walk around the first 100m of the “Other Place”. You can’t hear the person next to you without screaming at them, the roar is deafening. I think my mouth must have hung open at some stage, because I swallowed a bug. For our last test we will be rafting the final stretch of this long violent rapid.

It will consist of 2 parts, a hard forward before a get down into the first wave, that drops us about a meter into a backwash of white foam. If we make that, we’re in for a treat: another hard HARD paddle into the next 2 meter drop and hopefully a clean exit out of the maelstrom. Expect a breath-in because we will take on a ton of water. If you fall out, get away from the boat and safety. And enjoy your swim.

Other helpers have carried our boats across the DMZ to where we can launch again. We watch 3 other groups go first. One makes it, two bug out on the first drop. Kayakers have their hands full mopping up victims. Here we go!

HARD FORWARD!! STOP! GET DOWN! (at least, that’s what I think Paulo said, I couldn’t hear shit over the deafening roar!). My stomach gets caught somewhere in the tonsil region and I can barely get a “W00t!” out as the raft grabs some serious airtime before slamming into a 2 meter wave going the OPPOSITE direction!

Pause... (in mid whimper)

Anecdote: it is inconceivable that water can flow violently in BOTH directions at the same time. I ponder this as a cling white knuckle to the rope secured to the raft. The only object keeping my soft, tender meat sack away from the Aqua-Grinder outside the raft!

Play...

Down we go, water in the boat (which is a good thing, gives us more stability) and we cling on for dear life. Screams, I think. Few seconds later we’re out and everyone is still here. HARD FORWARD again, GET DOWN for the big one. UP and PLUNGE down. Then something goes wrong. We’re still here! I mean, sure, we’re still here, but I mean we’re STUCK in the rapid! Smack bam in the middle and being shaken like a kitten by a pit-bull. Screams. “HANG ON!” The raft is caught in the opposing forces of two very, very strong waves, momentum pushing us into the left, then slamming us into the right. Wash, rinse, repeat. And again. And again. I get knocked halfway out of the boat, manage to hook one leg back in. I ditch my paddle and cling onto the rope with both hands. Screams, horror (we’re not moving out of it!!). I consider maybe ditching the boat and flushing out to safety. I get knocked halfway out and back into the boat again. I quickly scratch that idea. More and more momentum, more water. More screams. The raft starts tearing apart, the middle supports coming right out. That’s when the raft folds up like a clam shell and Annelie pops out. I notice this almost immediately, but can’t do anything about it. Something in that folding action must have granted us enough momentum to crest the wave that kept us in limbo, because a few seconds later we’re out and over. And exhausted.

I scan around franticly and see Annelie’s yellow helmet bobbing above water, legs curled around the nose of a canary yellow kayak, and safe. She looks winded and very shaken, but conscious. We make eye contact and I make a fist sign above my helmet (are you ok??). She replies with a fist above her helmet.

Phew.

Cheers and laughter! LOTS of cheers and laughter. Still worried about Annelie, but I reconfirm that she’s ok. We pick up a few stragglers that were thrown from other boats and they help us paddle upstream to shore.

Meet up with Annelie, shame, she really took a beating. Thought she was drowning at one stage, but that she remembered what Paulo said, in that don’t fight it, just relax and wait for the life jacket to pop you back up. Good advice. I give her a hug while she chokes back tears. We share a moment before heading up the hill to the busses and trucks waiting for us. Catch up with the others, Mattie, Dirk and Fanie. They had a great time. Dirk’s patent to keep his glasses on his face worked beautifully.

Load up and agree to meet the others for that killer BBQ waiting for us at the camp site. Arrive back at NRE and dish up: spit braai lamb, dices of lamb, rolls, pastas, sauces you name it! Get some Nile beer and park off for a chow down. Man, best ,meal ever. Luke, Sanne, Cat, Paddy and Tom join us and we laugh and joke about the day. And what a fantastic day it was. Finish up and hit the showers, agree to meet back at the bar before 21:00, when our video will be shown. Later on, I grab my book and get everyone’s details. More drinks and lots of interesting conversations. Sanne and Kathrine may be in Zanzibar around the time we’ll be there, so we agree to meet up. More drinks, feeling tired!

At 21:10 we cosy up in the lounge area to watch our movie. Lots of “oooows!” and “aaaahs!” and cat calls as we get a third person perspective of the day’s events. Goosebumps. Last rapid, that bad bad “Other Place”. I reset my tachymeter and begin timing as we enter the 2^nd part, tastefully overlaid with Foo Fighter’s “All my life” (I think it’s called “All my Life”, I forget).

1 Minute, 6 seconds.

I lose the bet, I thought it was 30 seconds. Way out! Lots of WHOOP-WHOOPS all round!! Best part of the whole damn video, I tell ya! I shovel out the $30 and buy the unlabelled DVD on the spot.

As an aside, it was such a shame I couldn’t take a camera. SO many good pictures out here out there on the water, of huge fish eagles swooping down to catch their prey (distant calls echoing off the water), impossibly beautiful vistas, storm clouds rolling in, king fishers... etc. In the same breath, it would be impossible to truly capture the majesty of everything we saw today. I am truly humbled by the Nile’s beauty, and violence.

Tonight we close the bar, staying behind with the London guys (the others have all made off to bed, we say our goodbyes and good lucks). Whiskey, whiskey and more whiskey before we call it a night at 02:00 and bid the two dynamic Britons a good night.

Got my iPod out, since tonight there is a huge party at the bar down the road, next to the camp site. Don’t care, I’ll be sleeping like an absolute baby tonight.

Linkage, for a gallery and info, since I didn’t have my camera on me (damn shame, but it would have been ruined): http://www.raftafrica.com/rafting.htm. I’ll have to show you the video when we get back to civilisation. :)

Highlights: Experiencing the world’s best white river rafting!

Not killing ourselves!

Feeling the weight of history and awesome beauty of the Nile river.

[G & A], out

All my life I’ve been looking for something.

11 July, Day 28: To Uganda (ho!)

2009-07-11T13:06:00.000+01:00

Breakfast was a pleasant affair. Had Kellogg’s (I think it was Kellogg’s) with cold milk, a piece of watermelon and pineapple. Hit that back with some strong coffee, before we placed our order for eggs (done “ice”. This I was told means “soft”, so ice it was). The lottery started shortly after, since Mattie put in a order for “raw” and Annelie for “relatively hard”. There was also a “scrambled”. We all got over cooked, although mine was pretty “ice”. Scrambled eggs REALLY fucked them up, but after the second plate of “ice” they eventually understood.

We thanked the “big chief” for the stay, even though the showers didn’t work. And even though they got folks in to fix a shower in one of our rooms yesterday, and the same folks tried sticking us with the bill. I’m learning that here in Africa as long as you still have a strong stomach, you haven’t been poisoned, you actually got a good night’s sleep, your car was still intact and tires inflated you’re ahead and should be thankful. And I was.

Looking forward to the border party again. Uganda is the destination, only about an hour or so away. The first town we’ll be arriving at is Jinja (think I may have spelt that wrong in a previous posting). Close by is where all the Nile rafting action is at.

Traffic was a breeze (by that I mean the taxis, busses and even bicycles still run you off the road, but somehow today they seem nicer about it) when we crawl to a standstill of people, shacks-an-shops, taxis, cars, big trucks and the usual fauna all blocking the road. This... was the border.

I really do wish I could take my camera along, a true spectacle to behold. All the players are there, only the currency-exchange executives all wear yellow over all, with “Money Exchanger” printed on it, and they all have calculators in hand. I discovered a new species today, the “Customs Liaison”. Friendly bunch of guys, all falling over their feet to help you. Dressed smartly, all wearing a very official looking tag on a lanyard around their necks, the live to serve as a facilitator of easy border crossing. Of course, they immediately attempt to touch my documents... which makes me understandably uncomfortable not to mention fucking pissed off. But I do smile and politely refuse their advances, which they only hear as “yes please”. No still means yes in Africa. I think Yes means “yes please, and here, have my wife too”. So I’m careful to use it, lest we start an international incident. I point to the see through plastic folder, the words “Carnet de Passage” emblazoned on the (now glowing, in the presence of Orcs) golden paper. And like most Holy Artefacts, it soon repels the heretics, the leeches and th3e stupid. I smile.

But not for long.

What a god damned mess. I mentioned all the cars and trucks blocking the road already, but picture a huge dustbowl of garbage and you’re almost there. Hey, at least there’s a Barclays here (which didn’t accept any of my 3 visa, Barclays cards). In the queue, get a blue form this time, fill in the useful-useless information, stand in line, bat the horde of “Exchange brokers par excellence” in over coats (but with pretty words and numbers printed on the back, so, they MUST be trustworthy), hand over passports and $100. Cars next. Find the office next door, informed we should go to their other office next to the gate. Walk the 200 meters to the gate where there’s a little booth perched on this mound if earth. Someone seems to have dug up a 3 meter stretch next to the road to install water pipes. The same someone probably got tired of the idea eventually. We now have a 3 meter wide, 1.5m deep, standing water, garbage infested and who knows what else barrier to reach the little office, perched on soil. To their credit, there are 3 sections of concrete pipe here! But something had started to grow on them since.

We get our climbing gear, say our goodbyes and vault the chasm. Success!

Well, success is relative. We now have to fill in reams and reams of forms (even though we HAVE the Carnets) and then walk back the 200 meters to the Barclays (yes, Barclays) and pay 47 000 UGs (yes, Ugandan Shillings, 1000 UGs = 4 S.A Rands, or about 28p in Old Country money) and then come back here. Not pushing our luck, we find another route off Customs Island and trek back to Barclays. Btw, I’m sweating like a moose at this time, it’s the hottest day yet! On the way to the car I gear up (or down?) into shorts and a lighter shirt.

Back to Barclays, 47 000 UGs become 49 000 (bank charges, you understand...). More waiting. And more waiting, then batting other Africans who thinks it’s savvy to jump queue. We show them that it’s not. That 4 pissed off Souf Afrikan male syndrome is coming on again. Annelie in the meantime has received our passports back, and eagle eyes as she is, she spotted that they only put my name on the paper for the visa. “Oh, sorree. let me correct(sic)”. How kind.

Grab an airlift back to Customs Island (where the margaritas as extra frosty). We don’t bother to balance on the precarious ledge in from of the window and just open the door to his cage (which is air conned!). This exercise is truly designed for maximum discomfort. I marvel at the thought. We hand over our slips and finally get the Carnet’s back (we persuading him to fill in the forms while we went to do his bidding). “Any other surprises?”, asks Fanie. None. “Where do we get a gate pass?” (this seems dumb, but if you don’t ask, and you’ve paid, and then you come back to get it, it’s a case of convenient memory loss for the clerk, or a major attitude problem to contend with).

One hour, fifty minutes and random seconds later, we pass the “gate” and leave the madness behind. I so look forward to doing that again.

Uganda is what you imagine the tropics to be. Road was shit up until about 30 KM’s in when we finally saw or 49 000 UGs at work in the form of pothole-less asphalt and even road signs. Oh, and painted lines on the road. Taxis still ignore them. And would you believe, a DUAL carriage way?! Impressive. I take pictures of this marvel of engineering.

I reckon it was around 14:00 or so when we arrived just shy of Jinja and pulled into the first Nile Lodge. Think it was called Jinja Nile Lodge and campsite or something (I didn’t jot it down, I was still in shock from the border). Adrift! It was called Adrift... just remembered. Very nice place, lots of backpackers mulling about. They have camp facilities and lodges, but our cars can’t park next to the tents. Big bar and lounge area overlooking (what I found out later) was the 1^st rapid if you were doing the river rafting) and a 70m bungee jump platform. But, all the bandas (little huts) where full and we couldn’t park the vehicles next to the tents. Pat, the manager recommended another spot just down the road, Nile River Explorers. Good rates, good food, although she has better showers.

On the way out, Annelie and I stop at this 5 Star hotel (which EVERYBODY knows about, but again, for the life of me, can’t remember the name). Woaw. Fully stocked has a new definition. Marble floors, immaculate woodwork and finished, big pool, pool table, vaulting stair cases, mosaic windows... etc. A real classy joint, at $200 per night. No camping (I think the concierge even snarled a bit. I do look like a beach bum though. But I drive the dirtiest, most bad-ass 4x4 in Uganda).

Off to the NRE and we find the camp site very suitable, also next to the Nile, further downstream, with fantastic views from the bar / lounge area, big pool, secondary lounge area, back backers lodges and room to camp. For Annelie and myself there was also the prospect to mix with the other travellers. The place also had that chilled backpackers vibe that we realised (much later) that we’ve been missing this entire tour.

Setup and head down the stairs the river. There are some folks there already and we strike up a conversation. The spot where you can swim is right next to what is the 1^st rapid if you were doing the river rafting so it’s like a mini waterfall, with interesting currents and eddies. 4 Kayakers are getting their orientation nearby. The Nile water was cool and very welcome in this blistering heat. I try swimming upstream, like a majestic salmon. Impossible! I walk it instead and go down the rapid (weeee!) but a few rocks along the way discourages me from trying it a third time.

Luke and Sam are 2 guys from South Africa and we chat a bit about what they’re studying and what brings them here and so forth. Later on we also met 2 Danish chicks, Sienna (think I’m spelling that right) and Catherine. They’re also keen to do the river rafting and we chat about lots of stuff. By sunset I’m semi sunburnt and hungry so we say our goodbyes and head back for meatballs and rice. Later at the Bar some of the guides put on a jam session of drums and acoustic guitar. The days rafting expedition arrived at around 18:00 to a fully decked meal of spit braai pork, lamb, all sorts of side dishes... all awesome! So they packed the bar / lounge and everybody was drinking and being merry. Annelie and I convince some of the others to join us tomorrow for the river rafting and Dirk, Mattie and Fanie agree. It’ll be a full day, about 32 KM’s down the river, 7 big grade 4, 5, and 6 rapids. Breakfast, lunch and that kick ass dinner (with 2 drinks, anything you want) included, up to 88 people can go, half days available, and we launch at a spot 45 minutes down the road from the other backpackers lodge (also owned and run by NRE, and were we will be having breakfast tomorrow). Truck leaves at 08:30 to this secondary backpackers lodge. Total cost, for a full day, all the gear, 3 meals, 2 drinks and 2 night’s accommodation thrown in: $125. What a deal!

We spend the rest of the evening enjoying the jam session and chatting. I snap a few pics of the band and the people. Looking forward to trying out the rafting. I’ve always wanted to do it, for some reason always missed out on the Orange river tours.

[G & A], out

Let’s get together and feel alright

10 July, Day 27: Kakamega forest

2009-07-10T11:40:00.000+01:00

We’re all ready and breakfasted by 09:00. Abraham was on site by 08:45 already. Today’s walk is from a pre-discussed parking spot down to the Yala river. It should be about 3 hours. The other walks are up to one of 3 vantage points to see the entire forest. Annelie is quite keen to do both, so let’s see how it goes

We all load up and drive to the Forest offices where we each have to pay 600 KSh (divide by 10 for Rand. Divide by another 13 for Quid) for entry. One walk is 500 KSh per person. Back into the vehicles and we’re off to the parking spot, a short drive into the forest proper. It’s quite east to tell right from the get-go that Abraham is very knowledgeable on the forest. He shows us many interesting plant species and trees, most of which I have now forgotten. Some interesting highlights are trees that basically consume an existing tree (mostly of the fig tree family). They start at the top and slowly envelop the existing tree until only the fig tree remains. That’s why you sometime see totally hollow trees, because the primary tree has totally died off and disappeared.

Many of the trees in the forest have strong medicinal properties, up to 80% of them. As such, their well protected by the government and forest rangers. Many cancer curing remedies can be harvested from the forest. Seems a shame that more research into these remedies aren’t funded or allowed. Saw an interesting tree that has sandpaper leaves! Very popular among the local woman, who use it to file their nails. We continue on through the forest, Abraham stopping us at intervals to explain the significance of one or other plant or tree, to point out monkeys (blue tail, I believe) or to see butterflies and so on. 240 Tree species and 260 plant species.

The walk brings us to a grass land clearing. Abraham points out that the part of the forest we just walked through was once grassland but the forest claimed it back. He said in about a few years hits patch of grassland will also be overgrown.

We reach a bank next to the roaring Yala river. Very cool! Snap a few pics, water is nice and cool and runs clear. Lots of rocks and rapids here, I kinda feel like jumping it. Another path takes us back to the cars, but along we way we are treated to more butterflies and loads of orchids. Ok, so my idea of a orchid is a bit skewed, all the orchids we’ve seen look like little dying twigs. But oh well.

3 Hours of walking I tell Annelie I’m done walking today. Abraham pointed to a hill and says that that it one of the vantage points. I reckon nooit, I’m done, and hungry, and sweaty. The forest is cool, but still humid. On the way back to Savona we stop by Ronda Retreat, just to see what the others were talking about. Wow. Wow wow. Huge, well manicured lawns, very well tended little cottages and tall tees. It really is another dimension to the world outside. Abraham shows us more orchids... meh. We come across nuns doing a photo shoot. No there’s a first.

All done and back to camp for lunch. We thank Abraham and pay him his well deserved 500 KSh each. The dude has way more knowledge and scientific names of things that we could ever care about, and he clearly loves what he does. If you ever need a full blown tour of Kakamega Forest, feel free to contact him on kakmegaforest[at]yahoo[dot]com :)

Lunch consists of Dorito’s Fiery Habenero chips, with cut cheese, tomato and avo (I had a hankering for Nachos, this was the best I could do). Delicious, and super unhealthy. We lounge by the pool even take a quick dip (which cost me 100 Ksh. Apparently I had to pay for the privilege).

Helped Mattie with his canopy, the seals have come out and as such was now leaking water into the back each time it rains. Had a quick afternoon nap after that, having placed our order for dinner 1^st. Having the grilled chicken tonight, since it looked like a safe bet last night. And it was, very tasty. Kitty was there again, pawing me for food, he got a few scraps.

Leaving for Uganda tomorrow (get your safety dance on!). Leaving just after breakfast at 08:00. Spoken to Mattie, Annelie and I would dearly love to go see the gorillas, if we can get in (only 30 tourists a day, and at $350 per person, it aint cheap) and we wanna do some white water river rafting in Jinya (best in the world, or so I’m told.) Spoken to this American chick at the bar tonight, but I lost interest after all the “it’s extreme”, “not so extreme,” “totally extreme”, “extreme man, EXTREME” extremes she simply insisted on using. I gathered it was a pretty cool thing to do when you’re in town, so, that's what we’ll do.

[G & A], out

Who’s got the rain

9 July, Day 26: All the tea in Kenya

2009-07-09T11:40:00.000+01:00

I’m up way early today. Sun is already blazing by 07:00, so I un-cocoon myself and hop out of bed, get some coffee and rusks for the wife (man of the Year, 2009 nominee) and start packing up.

Mr Tea pot (I call him now, since I cannot for the life of me remember his name...) collets us at 09:00 and walks us around the back to the tea plantation. As with the 1^st plantation we saw coming into town, this one is every bit as impressive. I later found out the big one we saw was Lipton’s. The other big tea company operating here is Finleys. A few interesting bits:

The trees at this plantation are 60 years old. They were planted in 1965. The trees (because that’s what they are, not bush or shrubbery. The Red bush variety is a bush, of course.) are allowed to grow waist height. This allows for easy picking, since you don’t have to bend too low or reach high. Picking is done by hand, in gangs of up to 60 people. They get paid 7 KSh per KG, and on average a single picker can pick 60 KG’s. The better ones can go up to a 100KG’s. Work starts at 07:00 to 16:00 each day and they rotate plantations every 2 weeks, to give the top leaves time to re-grow. As you can as such gather, they only harvest to top leaves, by hand, with a scissor like motion, and chucks it into a basket on their backs.

At every interval you see a higher growing stem (as opposed to the seemingly perfectly manicured uniform height). The trees look very thick and almost insurmountable but you can actually walk through them with ease. Each picker will return to the same block every 2 weeks, so he picks up where he left off. This is so that they don’t inherit another pickers mess, since it’s in your best interest to pick carefully so you don’t damage the leaves below the top most leaves and that, 2 weeks later, you have a intact, fresh batch to harvest (quite cool, I thought).

Each picker walk around with a little stick, called a picking stick. They place this on top of the tree as a measure. Any part that sticks out above that is plucked. Just like getting a haircut, but using a comb! Quite smart.

Employed workers are given housing on site and their children go to schools on site too. No one younger than 18 can work in the plantation, although during school holidays the kids can help out if they want (more for fun, really. Remember, the trees are waist high, for an adult. So very high for a kid).

Dotted around the plantation are eucalyptus and gum trees. These are used at the factories as fuel to aid the fermentation process. Fermentation is done naturally, no additives. The leaves are chopped finer and finer and left to ferment before being packaged. Flavours may also be added, depending on the end product. No pesticides are used in this particular plantation, and old, inferior tea plants and recycled as compost (the squishy bits we were standing on).

New trees can be cultivated from stems cut off an existing tree. These are cultivated in a lab in a tube with soil for 3 weeks. The new sapling can then be planted outside and allowed to grow for 3 years before it too can be harvested. Tea trees can grow up to 25 meters or more if they’re not pruned or harvested. Pruning takes place every 4 years and new branches grow back in 3 months. Some of the trees here had moss on them! A testament to how old they were.

After the tour, we are invited to the hotel for some tea and biscuits. Delicious! We also pay 200 KSh per person for the tour. Do some quick math on that, and he made a cool 1200 KSh. How much do plucky pluckers pluck in a plucking long day? Was it 60KG’s @ 7Ksh per KG? And that’s for a full day. He worked one hour. Mmmmm. The man clearly has a niche. Whatever. It was worth it. The hotel was quite full as well, so no doubt Mr Teas Pot made a killing.

We’re outta there by 10:30 and Annelie and I stop at the gate, at an old fuel station which now served as a curio shop. Cool stuff, very impressive workmanship. We buy some coasters for that awesome Tanzanian dark wood table I’m gonna buy. One day. When I’m big.

Onward to Kakamega (that WAS the right spelling). By 13:47 exactly we reach the equator! Well, we kinda drive over it, by a few meters, reverse, drive forward, reverse a scotch and stop. Everyone gets out and starts debating where the REAL line is, since the GPS units are all RIGHT, but we’re standing in different locations. We decide what’s a few meters between friends, draw our own lines in the sand and straddle them while we snap some pics. The locals think we are supremely batty. Weird thing is, this aint nothing like Greenwich, with a nice tidy garden and line showing where the equator is. Just little run down shops, only ONE with “Equator” in the name (they sold hardware). This being Africa, I was expecting a boom, with a toll of at least $5 and a shit ton of the same, tired, souvenir shops selling globes cut in two or whatever trinket you’d associate with, I dunno, a line half way through the planet. Whatever, we had fun anyways! I look forward to the toilet water turning the opposite way when I pee-pee.

We reach the forest reserve about 3 hours later and start checking for a spot to deploy. Pretty slim pickings, even if the 2 places we visit weren’t full already. We are also introduced to rain forest conditions: rolling thunder heralding a bit rain storm in exactly 3 minutes. Swell. We decide that camping in this rain is the pits and proceed to another Lodge. But at $50 pp according to the locals, Annelie and I opt for the Savona Isle Resort, which according to my Lonely Planet is not bad. The Savona wasn’t on any of the GPS units, however. We pick up a tour guide who can show us the way.

Rock up at Savona, and it looks quite good. For the price, it’s a steal at 2600 KSh for a room. Big bar area, nice restaurant, pool, steam room (hasn’t worked in 10 years, from the looks of it) and located in the middle of the river (hence the “Isle” bit) surrounded by huge bamboo and trees. We check in and just as I SMS the others they arrive. Apparently the $50 pp Rondo was PARADISE! But they too are fully booked. Everybody checks in and orders dinner (seems a common thing in African lodges, where you have to order in the afternoon already so that they can prepare everything). They have a HUGE menu, even “Chainese”. Yes, that should be Chinese. We gamble on the mutton curry. We get... something. Very chewy, I suspect it was goat. I feed half my plate to the cat begging next to my chair all night. The chips where fantastic! As where the chapattis, a doughy pancake thing.

Tuck in at 21:00. I’m quite tired today, don’t know why. We setup the most useless mosquito net in Kenya and hope for the best. The tour guide we picked up earlier turns out to be an official Kenyan tour operator. Name is Abraham, speaks with a lisp. We’ve singed up for a 3 hour walk in the forest, tomorrow after breakfast. Looking forward to it.

Highlights: The equator! Well, MY equator line was more right. So...

Learning all about tea

[G & A], out

It’s all just a little bit of history repeating

8 July, Day 25: Funny hats and tea-mazes

2009-07-08T06:37:00.000+01:00

Get up, have some coffee (some instant brand, Mexicana. A little more tangy than the Africafe, still ALL good). Have some pronutro (breakfast of champions) pack the bullet and say our goodbyes. Pat may actually be joining us on our way back from the Northern bits of Kenya. Maybe. She’s in two minds still. Say goodbye to Neill(tche, Neilltche) and little Mia. She’s not saying much today, I steal a hug anyway.

We have a long drive ahead of us to reach Kakamega (I think I’m spelling that right). About 6 hours or so. Kakamega is a rain forest reservation. The area was once just one big rainforest, but, you know. Humans.

Quick pit stop at the local petrol station for some juice. We get out of Karen at about 09:30. Along the way we climb quite a few meters, beautiful views down into the rift valley, that runs from Jordan all the way to the bottom end of Lake Malawi. One great big tear in the earth, very green and over grown. What’s even more interesting is that the rift is widening still! By about 10mm a year, give or take. This is also a reason why there are so many active volcanoes in the region. Well, not active right NOW, but...

Anecdote: Mt Kilimanjaro is the highest mountain in Africa, but it’s also the highest free standing mountain in the World. It’s tallest peak is Kibo, at 5895m. Mawensi is 5149m. Oh, and it’s a dormant volcano. Big badad boom!

The second highest in Africa is Mt Kenya. Also a volcano, but extinct. Elevation of 5199m. Kilimanjaro and Kenya are the only two objects in the world to be covered with snow all year round next to the Equator. Pretty cool, huh? :)

Back on the road... we spot these funny little vendors, wooden shacks built on stilts that hang over the side! As per usual they all sell the same stuff, all 30 of them (Africans have zero imagination. They spot ONE guys doing something and copy it, and the next copy him and so on. Over saturation for them, good bargaining grounds for us). We make a quick stop to check out the wares. They have huge sheepskin pelts, sheepskin hats and the usual trinkets and ornaments (dust collectors). I buy Annelie and myself a sheepskin hat each and pick up a cowboy hat made from bark! Yes, tree bark!. Amazing. Probably last me all of 1 month, but dude... a hat... made of bark! Very soft btw, not what I’d normally associate with tree bark. The sheep skin hats need a wash though. I think the vendor may have worn it to work today. It has a pungent odour on the inside...eeeew.

One more stop to admire a little church, where some police officers have setup a road block. We’re cool though, they’re stopping trucks and busses. The church has a plaque saying it was erected in 1942. The locals mention that the Italians built it. Very beautiful stonework, a little chapel, even a steeple!

The roadside display very nearly turns into a rainforest of huge, huge trees. There is also many tree plantations that add the canvas. Lots of ravines and valleys as we climb ever higher. The sky is quite ominous, looks like rain tonight. GPS reports we are 9” (that’s minutes) from the equator. It’s so beautiful here we decide that we should setup camp and travel on to Kakamega tomorrow. Great plan, since it’s almost 16:00 already.

By the time the road levels out again we are treated to hectares upon hectares of tea plantations! As far as the eye can see, rolling up and down the hills, plantations and other trees dotting the landscape. They look like thick, waist high, very well manicured hedges. But miles of the stuff. We stop and explore a bit, little pathways criss-cross through them and standing on the roof of the bullet, they begin to look like midget mazes to me. I imagine a TV show featuring midget mazes. Heh heh heh.

Push on to Kericho, and turn into the Tea Hotel and campsite. Very colonial, the hotel I find out later was built in 1955. But the decor and maintenance was probably last performed in 1956. So wallpaper peeling off walls in the art-deco dining rooms, patio sets made out of hangover-puke green fibreglass, little tulip bucket seats. A pool area that must have been a real happening spot back in the day. Now... no. Not so much. We’re assured we can swim if we want.

The campsite itself aint bad. Nice soft grass, little shelter for making food. We setup and get drinking before long. A man offers to take us into the tea plantations behind the hotel tomorrow for a tour. We gladly sign up, 09:00 tomorrow. Our iPod transmitter seems to have malfunctioned, wont switch on. Power switch doesn’t “click” anymore. I grab a soldering iron from Dirk, brannewyn and coke handy while I attempt to short the power switch. It starts raining shortly after. The other move the very fragile fire we finally got going under the shelter. I get a little wet, but the iPod tuner works again! It is however stuck on 108.0 (for your most banging awesomnist tjunes!).

The evening is easy going and jovial, lots of merry making, eating (in sessions, since the fire was so crap. We had salad, then chips, then fried chips on the gas stove, then steak, eaten by hand, then marsh mellows, which we toasted on what was left of the fire). Marietta sang for us, very beautiful and laughter at crappy dirty jokes and stupid shit. It was one of the better evenings we’ve had with the group so far.

We pack up and crawl into bed, not raining anymore. I get up again 20 minutes later to pack up our chairs (paranoia settling in) and a big black dog darting out of the big black shelter we sat in earlier. It manages to scare 4 different couloirs of shit out of me, I let out a “yelp” which I quickly turned around into a “I-totally-meant-to-yelp-manly-BEGONE-youMANGYmutt” man-command. Because I’m manly. And shit listens to me when I speak.

Don’t tell my wife.

Sleepy time.

Highlights: Good evening of drinking and good chatting.

My first view of a tea plantation!

[G & A], out

I’m a soul man

Postcards from the road

2009-07-07T15:33:00.000+01:00

7 July, Day 24: Another day of rest

2009-07-07T06:36:00.000+01:00

Spent a lot of time doing sweet bogger all today. I went out to buy some groceries and exchange some TSh for Kenyan Shillings. The prices is pretty decent, I divide everything by 10 to get the Rand value, and convert back to pounds from there. Long way round.

The whole place reminds me a lot of home, as in Cape Town. Lots of quite advanced shopping centres and arrogant locals and taxis. Seriously, I could pick up the latest Sony Bravia 52 inch LCD if I so wish. Run across a cellphone store and buy a 3G dongle. Got home and spent the next 3 hours trying to unlock it, so it’ll work on any network. I’ve got it figured out now, but the catch 22 is that I need to be online to do it! And Vista doesn’t like both internet dongles being plugged in at the same time. Later, later. I’m good for Kenya and we’ll be here and around for about 2 – 3 weeks.

The rest of the time everybody just lazed about. Fanie took his car in to fix up the one CV boot. I updated some pics, Annelie chatted with Pat and the girls (no place for a warm blooded male). Other random repairs and useless reconfigs on the vehicles were completed.

Went out to the Panari Sky Centre, a brand new hotel and conference centre in Karen. There’s a very nice buffet restaurant called Pampa there, Brazilian food. It’s the same concept as Roizio Rico in the Angel high street. Basically it’s not a ala Carte menu. You arrive, sit down and you can start with a starter or salad from the salad bar. You have a paper disc in front of you, red for “Nao Obrigado” (no thanks) or “Bring it on” green. Every 2 minutes or so a gentlemen with a large skewer of meat and a very, VERY sharp knife comes over to stand next to you. He proceeds to cut a slither of meat which you grab with a little tong. Meat ranges from beef, beef, more beef (top side, ribs, steak, lamb, pork etc etc), fish (dolphin mostly, even though it’s a mammal technically), crocodile and mountain gorilla. The gorilla is surprisingly delicious, not as tough as I would have thought, while the dolphin tastes very close to a mix of tuna and chicken. I’m told the gorilla is so tender because they only serve baby gorilla, although silverback is quite nice in its own right.

...

Ok, I’m totally kidding about the dolphin and gorilla. Gorilla is actually not so good.

...

Ok, I’m totally kidding. No endangered species were are on the menu. In fact, a law passed about 3 years ago bans all hunted wild life to be served in restaurants, unless they’re raised on game farms specifically bred for it.

Seriously. NO GORILLA OR DOLPHIN. We good? Ok, let’s continue.

We kept it going as long as we could. They served this beef loin dish that tasted EXACTLY like the ox tail Grandma used to make! Damn it was good man. Had quite a few deep fried bananas too, my favourite at Rodizio in London. All done and out, Annelie was the very last one to flip her green disc to red. They clear our plates and bring us desert: Fried pineapples covered in cinnamon. DELICIOUS! Followed by cappuccino. Oh my goodness, what great espresso! I buy 500g of the stuff. I now own 1.5 KG’s of coffee beans.... so far. Kenya has quite a few good coffee spots, and Trevor mentions that even in the supermarket I should look out for a few names. Mia was the belle of the ball all night, migrating from lap to lap, spending most of her time on my lap, sharing my food and exploring my camera (which she really enjoyed seeing her own picture), my leather bracer, my beard, Annelie’s fluffy jacket etc etc. “Meeaow”. “Tappy”. Trevor and Neill thanks us for keeping her busy. They haven’t had a quiet dinner in the last 2 years! They say it’s quite unusual that she stays occupied for so long.

No, we are not broody.

Traffic is way better back home and we’re all home safe and sound by 23:00. Very good evening. Tomorrow we leave on the next leg of our journey into the rest of Kenya.

Highlights: enough meat to kill a donkey

[G & A], out

What’s your name again?