Swaziland to Coffee Bay with no brakes

For this post to make sense you have to understand that it takes place after Kruger Park and Before Cape Town. Right then, let's continue...

After our 2 for 1 tire blowout outside of Nelspruit, we headed out for Swaziland again the next morning, this time with a much nicer ride, a VW Polo. We successfully navigated the winding, mountainous and eventually dirt roads through some beautiful scenery and made it through border security at Josefdal (2 buildings, 3 staff members, some livestock). The four of us (we're still with the Maltese couple at this point) had a pretty good lunch at a very local restaurant at Pigg's Peak, Swaziland. However, par for the course and not at all to my surprise, about an hour into the country the dashboard exploded. That is, a warning light and its lovely warning bell came on. This is a good point to note that we lived with this bell for the next 5 days.

A quick consultation of the car's manual informed us that we could be dealing one of three problems: a) I'm driving with the hand brake on (nope); b) the brake fluid is low (nope); or c) "There is a problem with the brake system. Stop driving immediately and seek a certified mechanic's assistance." So faced with option 'c', and the Maltese's phone not working in Swazi, we pulled into the nearest gas station to find a phone to call my now close friends at the car rental roadside assistance. Not having any Swazi coins for the phone, I bought a Swazi phone card, which of course didn't work for calling South Africa (50 Rand down the drain). And if you think the rental company had an office in Swazi you would be kidding yourself. Without any alternative, and not noticing any obvious problem with the brakes, I very slowly drove us the ~50 km to our hostel in Mlilwane Game Reserve.

We were determined not to waste the day, so Les and I dropped our gear in our beautiful rondavel with a breathtaking view of the surrounding vast expanse of hilly savannah and went for a hike around the park. We definitely would not have been able to do this in Kruger, but because there were no serious predators here wandering was allowed. On our way we ran into a few zebra hanging out in a clearing, a family of warthogs, and a beautiful scene of about 50 Impalas grazing in a wooded area. Back at the hostel we cooled off in the pool. Although there was a fence around the hostel property, at least 5 or 6 warthogs managed to get into the yard to chow down on the grass. I can't really explain how unreal it was to be floating in the pool, watching a mom and baby warthog roaming less than 20 feet from me. By the way, warthogs are extremely dangerous as they have sharp tusks and will defend their young like nobody's business. Later that evening we had a 'Braai' or BBQ where we ate.... Warthog!!!

One of Lesley's must-do's for the trip, and something that I was excited about, was a horse ride through the wilderness. So that's exactly what we did early the next morning. We were booked for 9am but the lady came around to knock on our door at 7:30am to tell us that we actually had to go at 8am - "Sorry". We came across some zebra, which was great because both animals are not at all scared of each other, and because they are distantly related, they actually have the same greetings which is a kind of head bob. Very interesting to watch. Unfortunately, Les was the only person out of the five of us with any horseback experience, so we were not allowed to move any faster than a slow walk. Naturally the horses were not informed of this, so when a small group of Impalas got spooked behind one of the dutch girls that was with us, her horse bolted. She made things 10 times worse when she started screaming like a banshee. I hope I won't offend anyone when I say this, because she wasn't hurt more than incuring a few scrapes, but it was quite an experience to watch her get throw over the horse's head to the ground. She didn't get back on the horse. Later on that ride we added another animal to our sighting list: two crocodiles (which, by the way, live in the same pond as hippos, although on opposite banks).

Done with nature, we packed up our gear and move 30 km down the road to another hostel. We picked this spot because it offered volunteer opportunities on a daily basis. As there was an orphanage up the road, we drove over there to find out what we could do. I have to say that I definitely would not have made the effort had Lesley not had her heart set on it. Before participating I felt almost guilty and like a stupid tourist on an adventure for offering only a day of my time. What good can be done in a day, right? Well it turned out that they actually didn't have any food for dinner that night and didn't know how they would feed the 37 orphans. So with a list in hand from the headmistress, we did some shopping and returned with giant bags of maize meal, potatos, onions, fruit and vegetables, and with a dozen childproof scizzors, which we were told was a luxury item that they have never had. We spent the rest of the afternoon throwing a coat of primer (aka painting) on the walls of some of the new classrooms under construction. It did feel good to do something helpful, but at the same time it underscored how much need there is in the world. All in all, the look on the kids' faces just to see us there and to get a hug was worth the trip.

Coffee Bay

Leaving Swaziland in our death-trap-mobile the next morning, we had delusions of driving all the way to Coffee Bay, which is on the Wild Coast abutting the Indian Ocean. By this point I had been able to convince Lesley that the brakes were probably hopefully certainly not a problem (I joke, but if I had any concerns we would have ditched the car immediately so don't worry mom!). Driving all day, we only made it to Pietermaritzburg and gave up, hosteling for the night. Heading almost directly south from Swaziland, we ended up inadvertently driving through the Transkei ('trans' = over; Kei = a river). Those of you up on your history will recognize that this was one of the ten 'homelands' under the apartheid system. Wikipedia says it best: "In South Africa, under apartheid, blacks were stripped of their citizenship, legally becoming citizens of one of ten, theoretically sovereign, bantustans (homelands)... The homeland system disenfranchised black people residing in "white South Africa" by restricting their voting rights to the black homelands, the least economically-productive areas of the country." In my understanding, if you were black and so much as didn't have your passbook, or were unemployed, you could be 'deported' to these arbitrary homelands - permanently. Needless to say, this was our most striking brush with large scale poverty in South Africa. The Transkei appears to be comprised mostly of mud hut villages with no electricity for most people, who are primarily still subsistence farmers. A far cry from the metropolitan areas of Pretoria and Cape Town.

We pulled off the main highway about 3 hours outside of Pietermaritzburg onto the road to Coffee Bay, which quickly became what I want to say is a dirt road but would be more precise to say a 'rock' road half of the distance, with the other half being 'paved' (note: paved means 50% potholes deeper than my forearm. And guess what? WE GOT ANOTHER FLAT TIRE! FUCK! Thankfully this time it was only one, and we had a proper spare, not one of these temp spares that get you 40 km on a good road. A cop stopped and actually finished changing the tire for me, which was nice although my cynical side says he was looking for a donation.

Coffee Bay is essentially the bay and 2 backpacker hostels with the assorted tourist services they support, with the surrounding hills spotted with rondavels. It's absolutely gorgeous. Being here was a complete escape from reality; cut off from hustle and bustle, stress and, for a day and a half, electricity. The bar at our hostel (which was supposedly the quieter one of the two) was always packed with tired, shirtless surfers or surfer wannabees and bathed in laid back tunes coming from the stereo (I dont' remember the last time I heard so much beach boys, or if I had ever before had Surfin' USA stuck in my head for an entire day.) We stayed 3 nights here doing absolutely nothing productive and it felt great.

Arriving late the first day meant it was a writeoff... Day two we went on a bit of a tour of the adjacent village to learn about Zulu culture and contemporary ways of life. As some of you may already know, in many African cultures, when a man wants to marry a woman, he must offer to the woman's father a 'Libola', a type of reverse dowry that usually comprises 12-15 cows. The female, of course, has no choice in the matter. As a feminist, an idealist and someone who always has her heart in the right place (all qualities I greatly admire in her), Lesley had a really hard time dealing with this reality. Essentially, "these women are being bought and sold," was her reaction. And she is absolutely right. It's a human rights issue and although things are slowly changing in the cities, rural African women are being deprived of their fundamental freedom of choice and I've come to the conclusion that it's not ethnocentric to say that this is wrong. I don't know how to change it, but learning about it I think was a great thing for both Lesley and me and I know she is going to use that learning experience to change the world.

On a lighter note, I almost died 3 times the next day. We went out for a surfing lesson at 10am Africa time (11am actual time). Everything was going fine, and I was standing up on the board halfway thru the day. After a quick break to puke up all the salt water I swallowed and to have a drink and catch my breath (surfing kicks your ass, even if you're in shape!), I went out again. I decided to go a bit further so I could catch some bigger waves. After no success, I raised my head up long enough to realize I'm getting pretty damn far from the shore. People are looking like ants. Ok well I'll start paddling back. After about 5 minutes of paddling, I'm close to twice the original distance from shore. I finally clued in that, every time a 3 metre wave came by, I wasn't carried forward on the crest, but I was being sucked back down the tail end of the wave, out toward Antarctica. Hah. Nobody bothered to tell me about rip tides. By this time I've finally accepted that I'm in trouble and I start waving to Lesley who has been watching me (I find out later, in terror) to get help. I also accept that I'll probably have to just hang onto the surfboard and see what happens. Thankfully my guardian angel appeared in the form of our surf instructor behind me and he started yelling at me to paddle across the wave to get out of the current instead of toward the shore. By this time my arms were completely useless and I literally couldn't paddle to save my life. But with his help and my legs and a lucky wave, I made it back to shore. I didn't fully comprehend how much trouble I was in until much later, when it was too late to thank Johnny for saving my life. So thanks, Johnny.

My second adventure came when Les and I jumped on horses later that day and went for a trot around the hillside. TONS OF FUN! Our first stop was the beach where we got to gallop almost full speed on the shore. Who knew cliches could be so worthwhile? Keep in mind that my lifetime horse riding experience is limited to the one hour walking in Swaziland and sitting on a horse for 2 minutes at Travis's birthday party when I was 5. The rest of the ride we did mostly walking but we did a bit of trotting and cantering up and down paths in the hills. Felt great to be going fast on a living, breathing animal with that much power. Near the end of the ride we made our way to the top of a cliff overlooking the ocean. We started galloping along the crest of the cliff so fast that I started to get airborne! Had I not kept my cool and been able to slow the horse down I would have gone flying for sure. And the prospect of doing that without a helmet was not appealing. Not to toot my own horn, but I feel like a natural on a horse; the controls felt very intuitive and Lesley will be happy to confirm that ;)

My third, embellished, near death experience for the day came right before bed. Our room was infested by mosquitos, so I devised a cunning plan to hang my mosquito net from the ceiling lamp. All was well until it pulled the bulb and fixture right from the ceiling. In my slightly intoxicated state, I decided to fix it. As soon as I touched the metal contact with the metal fixture, the sparks started flying. Whoops, forgot to turn off the switch. Not to worry, I'm fine and it makes for great stories!

That evening, before dinner, we walked down to the beach and split a bottle of wine, watching the sun set, and had a great philosophical conversation about something now forgotten. One of the things I love about Lesley is that she's the most intelligent woman I have ever met, and it makes for some amazing conversations. Hearing the dinner bell, we rushed back to the hostel. After dinner, we had a drumming lesson, then the pros got together and put on a show for an hour. 6 African drums, a few beers and no electricity in a lightning storm can combine to be shockingly mesmerizing.

My memory fails me, but for our 3rd day in Coffee Bay I think the only thing we did was chill out during the day. Our failed quest for the internet took up part of the time but I honestly think we spent the day playing chess and doing f* all. That night, however, was the full moon party. The local Sangoma or medicine man came down to bless the party, then we had some traditional dancing by about 10 of the local girls. The way they move is absolutely incredibly and seemingly beyond what a human should be able to do. They make it look effortless. And to see these 12 year old girls beating the crap out of a drum for 30 minutes and achieving that kind of sound was fairly impressive. The rest of the night was spent dancing and drinking and what can I say? Just another day in paradise...

The next day we got back into the car, turned the music up louder than the dinging warning light, and drove the 4 or so hours to East London, the closest place to catch a flight to Cape Town, and conveniently somewhere we could ditch this increasingly troublesome vehicle. The cops were unfortunately out in full force on the highway and I got nabbed for what I think was 100 in an 80. Of course instead of being asked for my license and registration, I was asked for 500 Rand to make my troubles go away. I bartered him down to 200 rand (about $30) and was again on my way. My first experience with bribery!!!! Yay!!!

We made it to the boarding gate with 20 minutes to spare, and arrived in beautiful Cape Town 3 days ago, so I guess sometimes things do work out without a hassle! Lesley and I are trying to make the most of our last 4 days together so I'm going to leave it there and go keep her company while she sketches. After that, I have to figure out how to get to Namibia....