Johnny Clegg opened this years summer sunset concerts held every Sunday at Kirstenbosch. Johnny Clegg’s performance had loads of energy and got the crowd dancing to he’s beats. The atmosphere at Kirstenbosch is great and you’re surrounded by beautiful trees, lush lawns and colourful gardens.
Bands will be playing every Sunday afternoon from 22 November till 4 April 2010 with some real cool acts to perform in the coming months. Some of the bands performing will be: Fokofpolisiekar, The Dirty Skirts, aKING, Astray Electric, Tidal Waves and many more. Prices range from R65 – R95 and you can pack your own picnic basket with drinks.
Gumtrails hosted its first sponsored competition in its 10 year existence with prize money totaling R5000. Sponsors DC, Fox, Red Bull and OSP got involved to make this event happen along with the organizing and hard work of Wayne Reiche.
The day was a great success as both riders and spectators dressing to the Halloween theme. Riders from across the country came down to Cape Town for the event and it was an awesome get together. The riding was on levels with some crazy stunts performed. The trick of the day had to go to Wayne Reiche for his in rhythm Front Flip on the sideline.
View the web edit I filmed and Colin Loudon put together.
My good mate Michael Moffit had his birthday party on the weekend. You read the header about shark cage diving and must be wondering how a birthday party and shark cage diving links up?Well, Michael had the great idea of taking 10 of his close friends to go shark cage diving as a birthday event.
Our crew of 11 people stayed at Michael’s house in Hermanus.
We had to be up early on Saturday morning to drive to Gansbaai where we would board a boat to go view the sharks from an underwater cage. Everyone was excited for the day though most of us had a bit too much to drink the night before. Amongst the excitement we were joking about how we would probably get motion sickness and feed the sharks.
Upon arrival in Gansbaai we received a big breakfast and coffee. The excitement started to grow as we were briefed about the day that lay ahead.
We jumped on the boat with about 25 other people and took of in the direction of DyerIsland.
At DyerIsland we through anker at a viewing spot and then waited for the sharks. The sharks live here in an alley called shark alley where they feed off the vast seal population. It wasn’t 15min before the first shark appeared and for the next 4 hours we would see almost 6 sharks making turns to visit the boat.
I went into the cage with the 3rd group. By this time the sharks were prominent. The visibility was great and we could see for at least 10m in front of us. The sheer size and beauty of these animals can only be captured when viewing them in the water. Several times the shark would swim up to the cage and view you in the eyes. This did not feel like intimidation, but rather curiosity.
We had the opportunity to go into the cage twice. By the second time the sharks were almost against the cage. They were so close that you could see the detail on their skin.
None of us got motion sickness and after 4 hours we were back on land. This was truly one of the greatest experiences I’ve had. Thank you Michael for an awesome weekend!
Rocking the Daisies is an annual music festival held at Cloof Estate outside Darling. This festival is also very concerned about the environment and if you are willing to cycle the 80km from Cape Town to Daisies then you get your ticket for half price.
Last year we were a group of friends that did the cycle to the daisies. It was easy and fun so we decided to do it again. Pieter, Dewald and I dusted our bikes off, filled our water bottles and met up with the other cyclists outside the CTICC in Cape Town. The group was three times the size when compared to last year. The recession might be to blame for more wanting to save money, but I think it was a lot better advertised than last year.
The group of about 100 left the foreshore through the harbour and up to Blouberg strand and Melkbos where we turned away from the coast to Atlantis. In Atlantis we stopped for a break, had some fruit and cycled the last 20km to the festival.
If you walked to the festival with a pre-arranged group then you get in for free. Leon Bester that cycled with us last year decided to do the walk to the daisies. It’s a 2 day walk of 30km per day. The three of us cycled pass Leon just before we arrived at the festival. He was looking strong and said it was easier for him to walk when compared to last year’s cycle. (I don’t think so)
At the festival we dropped our bikes and opened the beers. The beers started to flow and bands got better as the night progressed. We partied till late and passed out in our tents.
The following morning we awoke as the sun baked us out of our tents. The skottel was started for a big breakfast and the next beer was opened. By mid day we where sun burnt and walking felt like playing a TV game.
There were more than just cool bands playing till midnight. The comedy tent was entertaining and I had the biggest laugh with good friends.
I am not going to elaborated on how wasted we got or how many hot girls there were. As it happens at most festivals your feet get cut, you drink too much, you don’t shower and taking a shit becomes a problem as the toilets seem to overflow.
Rocking the Daisies was an awesome festival. The cycle was easy and the atmosphere great. It was a lot better organized than last year and it can only improve. Next year the festival will be even bigger. Let’s hope we get to see an international band headline at Rocking The Daisies in the near future.
Its been almost a year since our group of BMXers and Skaters went on this trip. I've been wanting to share this news with you for quite some time.
Adriaan Louw and I are busy making a full length documentary of this adventure that took place in December 2008.
Here is a brief write up of the trips concept:
Via the Backroads! – a BMX / Skateboard Adventure
Via the Backroads is an Extreme Sports Adventure based on traveling through South Africa, Swaziland and Mozambique. Our group of 10 guys consisted of 5 skateboarders, 4 BMXers and one 1 filmer braving the backroads to explore new spots of BMX and Skating interest. We promoted our respected disciplines by taking it to towns and areas never before exposed to BMX or Skateboarding.
This exploration adventure took us to more than just new spots. We met people that were open-minded to our lifestyles. In cities people would prejudge Skateboarders and BMXers as vandals or trouble makers. In places like Swaziland, Mthata and Fort Hare we were welcomed with open arms.
For 25 days BMX, Skateboarding and Adventure was everything! It took us to amazing places. Places that are overlooked by others. And it was here that we encountered the greatest experiences.
Finding a virgin spot or drinking a beer at your hut while overlooking the Trankei landscape was what made this trip so enjoyable.
The Urban Extreme Sport that contrasts the unique and beautiful Southern Africa landscape was captured on camera and is sure to be an interesting and enjoyable documentary.
I recently did an article for the newspaper (Die Burger) where they published the story of my trip to Namibia. Die Burger approached me do another article of an off-road Motorbike Adventure that took place on the weekend. I thought this to be a cool opportunity, so I decided to join in on the fun.
Moto Adventures are organized by Mouton Van Zyl and each trip takes a different scenic route. The trip I joined went through the Swartland district and took the gravel back roads up to Elandsbaai.
The sceneries were beautiful and the route was lots of fun. I had the chance to sit on the back of one of the bikes and cruised with the 40 other bikers. Wearing an open-face helmet was not the brightest idea as I was soon covered in dust. I drove with Mouton in his bakkie for the rest of the route, stopping every now and then to take a photo.
Our accommodation was at the Rivera Hotel in Veldrift and the next morning everyone went their own ways back to Cape Town. I really enjoyed this trip, even though I was not on a bike. Anybody is welcome to join the group and for a small fee you get to see some beautiful back roads with back-up assistance and a bed.
If you are into off-road bikes and want to share a good time with laidback people, then this trip is for you. One day I would love to do similar trips, but for now I’ll keep to my scooter.
I’ve recently returned from a 2 week trip to Namibia. My long time school friend Emile Borman currently resides in Windhoek Namibia where he is a pilot. We remain in contact all the time and he’s been telling me about all the great places he’s been to in Namibia. He also told me that he flies over the Namib Desert for scenic flights and that there are often an extra spot on the plane.
“Albert, I am quite sure that if you make it to the Desert next week, then I’ll be able to take you on a scenic flight” – Emile Borman.
With this opportunity in mind, I started to plan a trip up North. Last year I went traveling through Southern Africa and paid a brief visit to Namibia. I haven’t been to the Namib Desert since 1997 when I had the opportunity to go with my parents. In April 2008 I visited the Southof Namibia, but I’d always wanted to go back to the Desert.
I arranged a lift with a truck driver last year before leaving to Namibia for my Southern Africa trip. Unfortunately the Margarine order due for Windhoek that time failed and I opted to go up with the bus. This time, a year later, I contacted the same truck driver and asked for a lift up to Windhoek.
With hardly any money I would try to make use of free or cheap transport to visit Emile and hopefully be able to get a scenic flight over the Namib Desert.
The journey up north started on Sunday morning. My father dropped me at Fritz Brandt the truck driver’s house in Porterville. We journeyed up to the Namibian border through Namakwaland’s flower region. The sceneries up to Namibia were beautiful. Past the border we stopped for a braai next to the highway and grilled some lamb chops and sausage.
I would catch this free lift with Fritz and then hitch to the deserts edge to meet up with Emile. I packed enough food for the road to last me 2 days. With my tent, sleeping bag, gas stove, pots, canned Tuna and water bottles I was prepared for the adventure that lay ahead.
Fritz dropped me early on Monday morning in Windhoek where I met up with Emile for a brief hour. He was on his way to fly a group of tourists to a lodge in the desert. Luckily I had made it in time to meet up with Emile in Windhoek as we shared valuable information about the travels ahead. I took a quick shower at Emile’s flat, filled my water bottles and told him that I’d most likely make it to our meeting point in 2 days time.
He then dropped me at the side of the B1 highway to start my hitchhiking journey westwards to meet up with him again.
Within 20 minutes I was off with my first lift. This lift took me back south to Mariental where I climbed off and headed west to Maltahohe. The man that had picked me up was originally from Denmark and had been traveling and working through out the world as a UN refugee consultant. He’d been traveling through Africa numerous times and all the stories inspired me for my journey ahead.
At the turn off westwards I got a lift with a baster from Rheboth. He and his farm worker drove into town to buy bullets to kill the baboons on the farm as they were a threat to his livestock. He poured himself a double brandy and coke in a foamlite glass and said that it’s because of the baboons that he was drinking. This lift took me only halfway to Maltahohe and I had to wait 3 hours for my next lift.
I got a lift on the back of a bakkie from Matlahohe in the direction of Sossusvlei. By this time my boere-tan started to take shape.
I was dropped at an intersection and within 10min a German women and her son picked me up. This was my first encounter with the Germans as Namibia has more German tourists than Jacob Zuma has wives. I climbed into the rented car with Sonja and Felix and we started off with a wheel spin. At first they thought I was from England and when I told then I was from Cape Town they thought I was American. Welcome to Africa, Cape Town is 1600km south from here, be careful of the lions. They dropped me at the intersection I had to take and took off in the sunset.
As the sun started to set the horizon became more colourful and I realized that this would be where I’d have to spend the night. In 2 hours not a single car had passed and I started to walk to the nearest tree. The girl in me decided to build a fence with thorn branches incase there were some Hyenas. I started up my gas stove and made a filling tuna meal where after I went to bed in my one man tent. That night there were no hyenas though I was kept awake by an owl in the tree above me.
At sunrise I was up and standing next to the road. The first 4x4 convey that came past picked me up. We did not have much to say to each other as they were Italian and I was American/English/South African.
I was only 60km away from where I was supposed to meet Emile. The Italian group took me to the turn off for the lodge and Emile told me that there would be cellphone reception at the gate (I bought a Namibian Simcard in Windhoek). Arriving at the gate there was no cellphone signal. It was a 20km hike to the lodge and there was no way I would make it. I only had 500ml of water left.
A German group in a rented 4x4 came from the opposite direction and I opened the gate for them. They looked at me as if I got paid to stand there for a day opening gates. Before driving off I stopped them and asked for some water. Again they looked at me as if I was some dirty backpacker Bushman with hidden water in Ostrich eggs behind the gate that I open for the 5 cars that pass per day.
Off they went without giving me water (I hope they got a puncture and could not read the instructions on how to use a jack and ended up being dehydrated). I had 500ml left, so I would make it.
Within 5min the staff of the lodge arrived at the gate. I asked them for a lift in to the lodge and 20min later I knocked on Emile’s door where he was still in his boxers watching The Hangover.
It was Tuesday morning and I had made it to the edge of the Desert. I washed all the desert dust off, drank a cooldrink and joined Emile to watch The Hangover.
The day before I was nursing a boere-tan, taking a shit in the bush and being a girl about Hyenas. Here I was clean and chilling at a 5 star lodge with 3 meals a day having a laugh with one of my best mates.
Emile had a scenic flight booked for the Wednesday morning. A French couple on their honeymoon wanted to view Sossusvlei from the air and this gave me the opportunity to join. Emile asked them if I could join and they approved.
At 07:00 we where up and flying across the dunes. I had the front seat next to Emile which gave me a great opportunity for taking photos. Flying over the desert gives you a different perspective and you realize the sheer size of this massive sand landscape. We took an hour flight and only viewed the start of this enormous desert.
Everywhere you would look there would just be more and more dunes. I am sure that some pilots could become bored by this landscape over time, though I was so excited and privileged to be flying over the Namib Desert I did not want the flight to ever end.
The scenic flight took us up to Sossusvlei, Deadvlei and through the dune corridor back to the Lodge.
Emile and Norman Esplin refueled the planes and we spent the rest of the afternoon just chilling.
The whole mission to get here was worth it. I had the opportunity to fly over the Namib – for free!
That night we drank lots of beers and red wine. I had a 4 course meal in the lodge and went to bed quite late.
Life in the desert can become lonely as one of the staff members pointed out:
“Tjom, dis die woestyn die, hier naai ek enige iets met ‘n hardklop, behalwe ‘n pofadder” – I am not going to translate that into English.
Both Emile and Norman would leave the next day to take their guests to other lodges. I arranged a lift with the lodge’s staff shuttle to Sesriem for the next morning to go view the dunes from ground level.
At 06:00 I was on the shuttle still half drunk driving to Sesriem. The August east winds were blowing sand into my eyes and I was not excited to be standing next to the road. I left my backpack at reception, bought my park ticket, filled my water bottles and went to stand next to the road to hitch a lift in to Sossusvlei.
At first no one wanted to pick met up, could they see I had a hangover? Then a French group stopped to pick me up. The Combi’s door opened and there sat a beautiful girl. Hell yeah, driving into the desert with a hot girl. I then found out they where French and could hardly speak a word of English. The girl sat in front of me reading the whole way. Could she also see I was hung-over? Her brother with his designer clothes sat next to me also reading. He did not look up once. I wanted to tell him: dude, look out the window, you’re in the f**king desert! But who am I other than a hitchhiker. At the drop off to Sossusvlei he grabbed his jacket and bubblegum and walked to the shuttle thinking he was boarding a party bus with his hot sister. From the drop off to Sossusvlei is 5km and you can only cover it in a 4x4 vehicle. If you don’t have a 4x4 then you take the shuttle for R110 or you walk like me.
I started to walk and thought I was never going to reach my destination. Even the crows knew I was hungover as they kept hovering over my head. Then as most tourist destinations would have it an idiot would get stuck in the sand. I helped them along with some other people and grabbed a lift with one of the other helpers for the last 2km to Sossusvlei. At first I paid a visit to Deadvlei and it was amazing. All the dead trees standing between the dunes like statues. I took lots of photos while raping my water.
I then walked across to Sossusvlei, but before I could climb the dune I had to take a nap under a tree. It was in the heat of the day and I first had to get my powers back. The hot French girl and her gay brother passed me on their shuttle heading out. They had taken all their photos and were heading home while I still had/wanted to climb the dune.
I eventually reached the top with each step feeling like I might be climbing Everest. Took my photos and back down I went. An empty shuttle passed me and picked me up – for free. He could see I had a hangover that by this time was close to heatstroke.
From the drop off to Sesriem I got a lift with an Overland truck. They stopped halfway for lunch and I went to go lie under a tree again. Before departure one of the German tourists asked if she could empty the sand in her shoes in the parking lot. O my God, you’re in the f**king desert, look at all the sand around you! What question is that?
Back at reception I made some enquiries about camping. At first I thought it would be R150 to camp, cool, but then they informed me it would be R150 pp plus R300 for the site totaling to R450. I hadn’t even spent that much money to reach Sesriem. So I walked to the only garage, filled my water bottles, bought a sandwich, lost my South African simcard between the rocks and took off in the direction of the mountains to find a quiet place to camp. Getting back into the Sossusvlei nature reserve to find a tree or something would be a different story as the fences where raised and the park rangers where driving Germans around for sundowners or something. I felt like a Kudu looking for a place to jump the fence. Up and over the fence I speed walked to the river bed, hiding behind the bushed as the Land Rovers came past. I pitched my tent camouflaged between the bushes and made the same old tuna meal while the jackals kept crying in the mountain. The morning I woke up to the sound of a grunt. I zipped open my tent and saw a heard of Springbok standing around my tent also camouflaged from the German tourists.
Just after sunrise I was back at the garage for breakfast and on the road again north towards to Swakopmund.
At the Sesriem garage I met a man building garages around Namibia. He was a grown up jock, but we had a cool chat. Knowing everything and everyone he asked the fuel truck drivers to take me to Walvis Bay. The drivers are not allowed to pick up hitchhikers as they transport fuel and are one of the biggest logistical companies in Namibia. They said they would give me a lift to Solitare from where I would hitch further north. I was not allowed to take a photo of the truck as the driver was paranoid I would do something with it. So respecting his wishes I climbed into the truck and listened to the repetitive Owambo music all the way.
Solitare is a very small place with a garage and some tourist attractions. There is a nice bakery where I bought a big cinnamon bun. Solitare is similar to Ronnie’s Sex Shop as it is a place where everyone stops on route to their next destination.
I don’t like asking people for lifts while they refuel. I’ll rather wait outside or next to the road for a lift. Maybe if I was desperate I’d have a different strategy, but standing next to the road worked through out Namibia. This may sound arrogant, but playing the White-card also helps.
Manfred picked me up just outside the Solitare garage. I waited for about 40min. He drove a Corsa bakkie with a Speed and Sound sticker in the back window. With a sticker like that I knew I was in for a ride. We passed all the people that did not pick me up as we were cruising on the gravel roads between 120 – 140km/h in an air conditioned car while listening to loud Nama music.
He was on his way to Swakopmund and at the Kuiseb Pass we made a brief stop. A truck had rolled over the week before and the driver died. The truck was transporting flat rocks and Manfred stopped so that we could pick up the rock for him to build his braai area. While sweating in the sun helping Manfred load rocks the hot French girl and her family drove past. She waved at me smiling as if she could see that today I did not have a hangover though I was twice as dirty.
Manfred dropped me in Swakopmund’s town centre from where I walked to the backpackers and booked in for the weekend
As I arrived in Swakopmund so to did the mist. This time of the year sees the West Coast being covered in mist.
The first day’s weather was grim and I decided to pay a visit to the museum. I remember this museum from 1997 and I loved all the stuffed animals back then. This time I walked straight past them and read up on Namibia’s mining sector, fishing resources and local tribes.
When you first enter the museum you’re bombarded by German colonialism and stuffed animals. Tourist friendly artifacts for the millions of Germans that visit here. Walking around I wondered where the other cultures and influences towards the modern day Namibia was. And there in a hidden away extended wing you find info on the Himba’s, Owambo’s, San and others. Since my visit in 1997 they extended the museum to cater for everyone.
One thing that stood out for me was at the cashier till where you can buy a sticker of the Old South African Flag, this next to the current Namibian President Hifikepunye Pohamba’s face,
“Does anyone buy this sticker?” I asked the cashier.
“Yes, lots do. Mainly South African’s” she replied.
I assume it’s for those guys that also have blue balls hanging from the back of their bakkies tow-bar or the one’s only brave enough to wear 100% Boer T-shirts in Hartenbos and maybe here in Namibia. I am sure Mr. Pohamba would not approve this sticker in his Government museum. But hey, it’s misty in Swakopmund, why visit now?
At night I went out for a few beers. The town was empty or maybe it was because I went out at 19:00. I was tired and went to bed early.
The next morning I slept late and went for a walk around Swakopmund. I watched the Rugby at a local pub, paid a visit to the aquarium and saw some cool colonial buildings.
That night I went to the local hang out Grunen Kranz and played pool till the place closed.
When I arrived I played pool with Goofy. Goofy thought he was a mean gangster and told me about all his criminal records, showed me his petrol bomb scars and 8 ball tattoos. It feels good when you beat a mean gangster at pool. I only won the first game and he won the next two till his brother apparently phoned to use his gun. Goofy left the pool table and I was joined by some of the locals. We played till late and I could see my pool partners becoming drunk as the night progressed. By the time the place closed I was on their level and walked down to the Backpackers to pass out in my tent.
I was up late and decided to go view the flamingos in Walvis Bay. Walvis Bay is the harbour port of Namibia and is about 30km south of Swakopmund. Two lifts later and I was dropped of at the flamingos. I walked around and snapped some shots. From there it was three lifts back to Swakopmund.
Arriving back at the Backpackers I met up with some German girls. They were going to eat out at the Lighthouse Restaurant and invited me to join them. I’ve mentioned this before on my Southern Africa trip: “seeing a good looking girl in Africa is like spotting a Leopard in the Serengeti. They are there, but hard to find”. I only saw the French girl thus far, so when four girls invite you out you say: Hell yes! They were really cool and we had a good party (even though none of them could play pool).
The weekend was over and I was ready to leave the mist. On Monday morning I walked to the station and booked a ticket for the night train to Windhoek. Taking the bus would be much quicker but almost triple the price. I wanted to investigate the Namibian trains. The train travels through the night arriving in Windhoek early the next morning. I was over hitchhiking and thought I could take the train from Swakopmund to Windhoek then south to Keetmanshoop and further on to South Africa, but soon found out that this option did no longer exist.
Everyone I spoke to had different opinions regarding the train. Most of then did not know much but still had something to say. Goofy said that it was dangerous and that I would need to be able to fight. The owner of the backpackers said that in the good old days they traveled by train but now all the blacks took over. Michael Mackenzie that gave me a lift to the flamingos said it was awesome and a cool experience.
I was at the station an hour before departure. The train came in from Walvis Bay and was an hour late.
Whenever you board a bus or train you always look at the people around you thinking who would I sit next to? Leaving for Namibia in June 2008 I sat next to the coolest girl I’ve ever met on public transport – Sam Murray. This time would not be the same.
The train arrived and everyone boarded. It was empty and we could choose our own compartments. I walked into an open compartment and put down my bag. Behind me stood a figure that I could smell a mile away. This slangoog (snake eye) character asked me if he could share the compartment with me. Not wanting to be rude I said yes. The whole train was open, why share with me. Then he started going on about how he was not an Alien but a Human being and I should not judge. He was drunk and repeated himself several times. I was quick to say: “sorry friend, you speak too much. I am finding somewhere else to stay”.
I ended up sharing a compartment with a middle age black man and his young son who were on their way for a doctor’s check up. The compartments did not have doors and the Alien luckily did not bother me again.
In Windhoek Norman picked me up in the city centre. Emile was only arriving the next day. I made us a filling chicken stir-fry and we just chilled at the flat.
The night of Emile’s arrival we went out in Windhoek for some beers. Norman, Emile and I pub crawled between Joe’s, Zanzibar and Kiepies. In Zanzibar and Kiepies I met some of the guys I played pool with in Swakopmund on the weekend. I also met an old Simonsberg friend of mine, Frey Ulrich. Namibia is such a small place. Everyone knows each other.
I find Windhoek to be quite behind. Behind in terms of music, fashion and trends you’ll find compared to cities in South Africa.
If there is one thing that will never ever be behind in a small town or a place like Windhoek then it will be the latest in Afrikaans Sokkie Music. Kurt Darren’s Kaptein span die seile is more prominent than all the Chinese investment being pumped into Namibia.
In Windhoek I mainly spent my time with South African pilots. If there is one thing all these pilots have in common then it is that they don’t want to be in Windhoek.
I only spent a short time in Windhoek. I wanted to take the train further south to Keetmanshoop before the weekend rush. Thursday morning Emile took me to the station and I booked my train ticket for that night to Keetmanshoop.
Emile dropped me at the station and I immediately found my compartment. This train was a lot busier than the one I took from Swakopmund to here. The platform was active and we left two hours late. I had another character that fitted the slangoog profile in my compartment. He was a friendly guy wearing a faded Fubu sweater and slops with feet that looked like he walked barefoot through the desert with eyes fitting the slangoog profile. He soon decided our compartment was to boring for him and moved next door to the party cabin where the Nama tunes played through the night.
I was left with three women, an old man and his grand child in my compartment. The old man and the child was in a ‘who could speak the most’ battle but soon went to bed. The babies did not cry once on the trip, but coughed as if they had TB. The compartment had a door and we closed it because Slangoog and his friends were partying next door. It was hot and stuffy in our compartment. I had the top berth and the babies slept on the floor. I had a good night sleep rocking to the movement of the railway tracks.
From Keetmanshoop I wanted to take the train South to Karasburg and then to Upington, De Aar and Cape Town. The Karasburg train only went the next day; there was no passenger train from Karasburg to Upington and also no passenger train from Upington to De Aar. From De Aar I would only be able to board a 00:00 train to Cape Town. This option seemed stupid and I decided to rather travel back by road to Cape Town.
In Keetmanshoop I asked around for the next bus south. Intercape and Ekonolux would only be leaving Keetmanshoop at 23:00. It was 09:00 and I had all the time in the world. While walking to the ATM to draw money for an Intercape bus, I thought of giving Fritz Brandt a call. I’d been in contact with my father and according to one of his sources Fritz was in Namibia. Fritz told me he would only be in Namibia in 3 weeks time. It was 2 weeks on, but I called him anyway.
Fritz was loading fish in Walvis Bay due for Cape Town. He would be in Keetmanshoop around 04:00.
“I’ll give you a lift if you’re willing to wait till then”
The bus would only arrive at 23:00 and they might even be late. With Fritz I had a free lift to Cape Town. One time, I was taking the truck.
I walked 4km out of town to the Engen garage where I sat waiting, killing time by reading and listening to my Ipod.
After sunset I moved to a seat in the Wimpy watching the Leopards VS Griqua’s rugby game. When the game finished I moved back outside and pulled my usual stunt by sleeping under the tree till Fritz arrived.
It was as if I had seen him yesterday. Two weeks passed and I told him all my adventures.
Back in South Africa we passed through the same flower fields again. In two weeks the landscape had changed and new flowers where prominent.
I arrived back in a wet and cold Cape Town on Saturday 22:00.
In my short two week trip to Namibia I met up with an old friend and made new friends along the way.
Had some great experiences and took nice photos.
The trip hardly cost me anything with most expenses going towards food and booze. It was almost cheaper to travel than stay at home.
What an amazing trip I had all by just making use of opportunities, being flexible, tolerant, patient and having faith in others.
Cobus, Warick, Monique and I teamed up for another unemployed outing. This time we headed in the direction of Ceres, hoping to find snow.
The Ceres information buro informed us that we had missed the snow by a day. We came all the way from Bellville and didn’t feel like turning back. In the distance we could see the snow on the mountain peaks and decided to drive in the direction.
We got to the snow before it started to melt as we were driving with rally driver Monique and she was on a mission.
Warick wanted to see the Yeti but soon decided to rather use his snow sculpture techniques to shape a huge penis for our snowman.
This will probably be the last snowfall for the Western Cape as the winter season comes to an end.
Cobus La Grange and I teamed up for a photography drive in the direction of Philadelphia outside Durbanville. With a combination of Beautiful Landscapes, Cool Tunes in the car and a filling Chicken Pie in Philadelphia - I enjoyed being Unemployed, but only for this day though.
I was away for the weekend in Riversdal and went walking next to the river on the look out for something to shoot. Up ahead was a hawk, but as I got closer it flew away. I had this feeling that there was something behind me and as I looked around I found this Spotted Eagle Owl sitting in the tree next to me.
The Owl was taking a nap and I started walking closer and closer. As the owl became aware of my presence his eyes grew big and he watched my every move. I kept walking closer. The owl remained sitting in the tree and made no indication of flying away. I was getting so close that I thought I was going to touch it until the dog on the farm came running through the tall grass and scared the owl away.
Fuck the Buck is a annual Skateboarding Competition held in George. The majority of skaters come down from Cape Town to contest at the Skate Lab Park.
This year our crew consisted of 7 guys driving up in one bakkie and camping out at the George campsite for the weekend. We met up with a bunch of other skaters in the campsite and partied till the early morning hours. The contest was small but lots of fun. Alan Marola won with Jacques Jaakness taking best trick on the handrail.
At the end of last year we went on a trip called Via The Backroads. This weekend felt just like one of those trips and made all of us excited for the next one.
I'll add a link covering the comp as soon as I find a write up with photos posted on the internet.
I took this picture 4 years ago in Edinburgh and thought to myself: Wars last a month, years maybe a decade, Statues might last a few decades or a century, but Ideas remain forever. Through out Edinburgh and London you will see various forms of War Memorabilia. It took one guy, his spray can and probably 20sec to communicate an universal idea: We don't need any more wars!
On the weekend while driving through Milnerton I stumbled onto the Milnerton Market. I’ve heard about this market before and decided to stop and see what was on offer.
You can buy the strangest things at this market. From old books, tools, plants, boerewors rolls, coins, videos, antiques, artwork and many more useless and useful goods.
Rowan is one of the many vendors at the market. I walked past his store and did not pay much attention to the Parow Renaissance artwork on display. What caught my eye was him sitting relaxed next to his bakkie almost as to show off the broken door and taking pride in his stall.
I asked Rowan if I could take a picture of him and his broken down bakkie. He was the friendliest guy and asked me just as many questions about my camera as I asked him about his bakkie and the market. Rowan told me that he had all the tools behind the seat and the necessary skill to fix his bakkie, but chose not to fix it as this would mean his bakkie would look good and criminals would want to steal it. The broken door also acts as a dustbin and only gets emptied when he goes to the dumb. Rowan is a handy man and has been coming to this market for many years.
There are some real bargains to be found at this market. By the time I left most of the stalls started to pack up their goods. The seagulls started to hover over us as they were the next lot of bargain hunters to move in.
Critcal Mass is a cycle event held on the last Friday of each month. Cyclists get together in Cities around the world to cycle together as a group. The aim is to create awareness for cyclists and the use of cycling as a more environment friendly mode of transport.
In Cape Town cyclist meet at the Baxter Theatre in the early morning to cycle into town with the morning traffic. My friend Toby Groenewaldt is a strong supporter of this event and on Friday I joined him for my second Critical Mass. We met up with the group at the CTICC and cycled to Seapoint where we grabbed a coffee at Vida before heading back to Cape Town CBD.
It was an enjoyable event and the morning fresh air with the adrenaline of dodging cars and taking gaps filled me with energy for the whole day.
Cape Town has been hit with yet another cold front. The winter is here and we are all spending more time indoors.
Today we decided to take a drive out to Hout Bay for lunch. My parents were on the brink of cabin fever and I took the opportunity to join them.
At the harbour we bought a snoek from the local fishermen. These ladies make the cleaning of the fish seem effortless and with in seconds our fish was ready to go.
I've been wanting to add some of my slideshows to my blog, but did not know exactly how to upload and show it. Today I figured it out and thought I'd share two of my old slideshows with you.
I edited a documentary style slideshow after I did my trip through Southern Africa. I made use of my own photos and added some vocals and music to it. It was a fun project. Check it out!
We decided to go and have a look at the Controversial town of Orania as we were heading back from the Drakensberg to Cape Town
This town was formed in 1990 and was headed by Carl Boshoff for the purpose of creating a town where the preservation of the Afrikanerdom’s Cultural Heritage would be strictly observed and Afrikaner selfwerksaamheid (self-reliance) would be put into practice. Only white Afrikaners live in this town based in the Northern Cape next to the Orange River.
We arrived in Orania just before 5pm and caught the Museum open. Koki De Kock is the museum caretaker and tour guide and showed us around. All the controversial bronze statues of previous Apartheid leaders, old South African Flags and other Anglo Boer war artifacts are stored and looked after in this dark building. Koki took pride in the heritage preserved in the building. While we were given a lecture on guns (I hate Guns) I sneaked away to capture one photo in a museum where photo’s were prohibited.
It’s strange that the Museum is the only building in town with an alarm system. I assume they have crime under control or this could be all they have to look back on.
Koki told us that there are currently about 700 people living in Orania and that the School is active as well as the Church (almost all small towns have active Churches). People that live here are mainly pensioners. It is hard to make a sustainable income in such a small town and even though they strive to be self-reliant, they remain dependable on the outside. It’s possible to live here and have an internet based job, but the majority of the people are here because they are strong believers in an AfrikanerState or their car broke down from Danville to Reiterwaght. They even have their own currency that is linked to the Rand.
Through out the town you will find motivational billboards encouraging and reminding the people of their ideological believes. There was one positive ideological view that these people shared and that was recycling. Now that’s the only sign I witnessed of moving forward in a town that’s stuck in the past.
I feel sorry for the young people growing up here as they are being indoctrinated to follow an ideology that had ‘died’ years ago. I only saw two school girls puffing a cigarette behind the school building. I might start doing hard drugs if I lived here. The other people looked like they had never been out of the sun. Those ones that look like their wearing dust on their face for life. Some of them are more colored than the farm workers they dislike living on the platteland.
I found the visit to be interesting, but it is not for me. Living in a town separated from diversity would kill me. If all of South Africa could work together like the people in Orania we would have a bling tower of Babel, but we all differ and I prefer Chicken to Beef.
From Lesotho we headed down the infamous Sani Pass to spend a few more days in the Drakensberg World Heritage Site. We stayed near Champagne Castle and used this as a base camp to see more of the Drakensberg.
We did quite a few hikes in and around the Drakensberg Mountain Range and were always treated with great panoramic views.
The view of the mountains and the small windy road is what makes this pass so famous. Driving down from Lesotho to South Africa is a lot easier than driving up, especially during the winter season when it is wet and often covered with snow. I found it to be a pleasant drive down as the terrain was dry and the weather conditions clear.
My farther (Paul) took his Mountain Bike with on our trip to cycle around Lesotho, but most of all he wanted to cycle down SaniPass. This meant that I took the wheel while he had the time of his life.
Driving through Lesotho you see some unique sights and meet interesting people. This man was walking next to the road in the middle of nowhere. I asked my dad to stop the car and I jumped out to ask the man if I could take his picture.
I asked him where he was heading and why he was out here in the middle of this barren landscape. He said that he was a nomadic herdsman and that the storm of the night before resulted in him not reaching his destination. He had everything he owned with him and his livestock was his livelihood. He was heading to the police station at the top of SaniPass where he would spend the night.
I never give people money for taking their photo. Mostly because I never carry money on me and I don’t want the people to start a begging culture. I usually just show them the photo I took, but this time it was different. He asked me to give him a R5 for food and I give it to him. He was excited to chat to me and seemed very educated. He did not beg me for money; he just wanted a R5 for his next meal.
When I was in Lesotho I paid a visit to the Sangoma of the Malealea village. For R20 he gives you his advice and assists you with any questions or problems you are dealing with.
The Sangoma could not speak English and had a translator that came with him. At first you put down R20, take a hand full of shells and bones and then you throw it out onto the ground. He then goes into prayer to ask for advice and guidance from his ancestors. After this he looks at the shells and bones on the ground and then starts to give advice.
At first he did not speak or ask me anything and then said that I had been to numerous places, but that he could see I wanted to see as many places as possible. He also mentioned that I was healthy and strong, but that I’d been drinking to much beer and this would be bad for my health. He went further to say that I should one day not argue with my wife and that I will have a happy marriage and many children.
The only question I asked him was if I would achieve success in whatever it is I set out to do one day? He replied saying that I will be successful. The session was finished off by him saying that I should always respect my ancestors and seek guidance from them.
I could have asked him many more questions, but decided not to. I only wanted to hear what he had to say at first by analyzing the shells and bones on the ground. I am sure this Sangoma makes enough money as most of his advice is positive. Or maybe I did not ask him the harder questions that many others ask.
The first thing I noticed when entering Lesotho was the blankets that the people wore and the number of Horses and Donkeys around.
The majority of the Lesotho landscape consist of mountain ranges and with hard to access locations it is understood that the more traditional form of getting around is still in use. Of course poverty plays an important role and not everyone can drive a 4x4 to reach villages.
I met many men that took pride in their horses and others that overloaded their donkeys. Children from a very young age ride horses or transport goods on their donkeys.
These animals are of utmost importance for the existence of these people. It’s apart of their lifestyle and we had the opportunity to share in this by taking a night-out ride to a village deep in the mountains. Malealea Lodge has a guided tour where you can go by horse back to a remote village not accessible by any vehicle.
We took food and sleeping bags for one night out and stayed in a hut next to a goat camp. The goats had bells attached to their necks in order not to get lost and through out the night we were woken by the noise of the bells.
This horse trek into the mountains was one of the highlights of the trip. The horses know the route well and anyone can do it. You don’t need to be able to ride a horse or do the correct whistling and ‘click click’ noises to go on this trip. These horses are well behaved and the guides know their story. My horse, Super Tax, walked away during the night, but was luckily found by some locals about 2km away and was safely returned before we left the village.
I have just come back from a trip to Lesotho with my parents. Lesotho is a land locked country within the borders of South Africa. This small country with great mountains and many rivers is also known as the Roof of Africa.
I had the opportunity to go on an all expenses paid trip with my parents. For two weeks we journeyed through Lesotho and the Drakensberg Mountain range.
If I could summarize the Landscape of Lesotho in three words it would be: Mountains, Water and Erosion. This actually makes sense as where there are many mountains, there is a lot of rainfall which could result in erosion if the vegetation is over fed and not controlled.
Lesotho’s greatest export would thus be its fertile soil that the rivers deposit into South Africa.
We were in Lesotho for one week only and one week in Kwazulu Natals Drakensberg. This was more than enough time to get an overall image of this small, yet time consuming to cross, country.
Through out our journey the views were amazing. Everywhere you looked there would be mountains. More so in the South, Central and Eastern parts of Lesotho than the North where you’ll find the Capital city Maseru. Another African city with informal outskirts, cellphone banners, street vendors, traffic jams, chicken take-away’s and queues for the ATM on a Saturday morning.
The Roof of Africa is therefore an appropriate name in a country dominated by MOUNTIANS.
These are some of the views I captured on my camera. Being there and absorbing the views was spectacular. The sheer size of these mountains receives no justification when looking at them now on my blog.
Lesotho receives a lot of snow in the winter months and we were lucky to pay a visit between the rainy summer season and the icy cold winter season.
The Original Broken Window Theory was first coined by Criminologists James Wilson and George Kelling. They described the phenomenon whereby an abandoned warehouse with no broken windows is mostly left alone, but as soon as one window is broken, it acts as an open invitation to passers-by that it’s open-session for throwing rocks.
They supported the theory further by believing that the likelihood of serous crime being committed increases dramatically as neglect becomes visible. The researchers believed there was a direct link between vandalism, street violence and the general decline of society.
The part of this Theory that I find interesting is not that it would lead to the general decline of society, but that when seeing one broken window not repaired it would lead to breaking more windows.
This Theory could also be compared to parking outside a bar on the pavement. You know you are not allowed to park there, but as soon as there are other cars parked you park there as well.
I also believed last years Xenophobic Attacks can be based on this Theory in that as soon as it happened in Gauteng province it spread to other parts of the country. The guilty parties thinking it had become acceptable to behave in such an inhumane manner.
I read about the Broken Window Theory a few years ago. It immediately caught my attention as I could pin point relevant activities and instances where there was acted in such a way of supporting the theory.
At that time I lived in Simonsberg Residence at StellenboschUniversity. Fellow students would often break down doors and other property. There was a culture that existed among some guys of getting drunk and breaking down doors (one example). Not many guys did this, but it happened quite often when compared to other Male Residences and the history record of Simonsberg.
I was guilty as well when I once set fire to a non permanent structure (a culprit of this theory). I received punishment and learned my lesson, but the culture of it being “accepted” to break property and be inconsiderate by making a noise when coming back from town remained active.
At a House Meeting the topic of disrespect towards our property was raised and I mentioned the relevance of the Broken Window Theory to the others. I said that a culture had occurred where it became acceptable to disrespect the property of Simonsberg and happened more often. If it did not stop, stronger measurements would need to be put in place to stamp down authority to ensure respect for property.
This would in turn be a set back for Simonsberg as the residence is known to have a laid back attitude but at the same time have the presence of a strong party culture.
I am sure that almost all residences that have more than 100 people living there experience some form of misbehavior every now and then. Getting drunk and causing trouble often goes hand in hand and I’ve been guilty of this ever so often. Causing damage to the property and people you live with and respect is a more serious offense. When this behavior becomes more frequent it could set the new norm therefore supporting some of the findings made by the Broken Window Theory.
It has been almost 2 years since I have left Simonsberg and I don’t know if people still run down doors that often. The misbehavior never escalated out of control as there were always structures in place to prevent this. I just found Simonsberg to be an interesting comparison for some of the Theories findings. I had an awesome stay there even though I sometimes had to take a piss without a door.
In other research Philip Zimbardo, a psychologist, tested the broken window theory with some experiments. He arranged that a car without a license plate be parked in a Bronx neighborhood and one comparable car be parked in Palo Alto, California. The car in the Bronx was destroyed within ten minutes, while the car in Palo Alto was left untouched for more than a week. After Zimbado smashed the car in Palo Alto, passersby started to vandalize the car. In both cases, once the car was damaged and looked abandoned, destruction, vandalism, and even theft soon followed. These signs of neighborhood deterioration or disorder, such as broken windows, can lead to the breakdown of social controls.
I am not too interested in the Theories findings in the decline of society, but I am rather on the look out where I can see people acting in such a way of supporting some of the findings made.
Like when you drive past a wall where there had never been Graffiti and as soon as one person ‘tags’ the wall another one follows until the wall is full of Graffiti. Or when you visit a beautiful tree and some person engraved his initials on the tree and the next time you visit more people damaged the tree.
I recently went to the Drakensberg and found these graffiti images next to the road. Maybe I should have added my name, but this is a good example of the Broken Window Theory. I hope the town’s social controls have not broken down. At least their spray-paint sales increased.
On Wednesday the 22nd of April I voted for the second time as a South African citizen. Along with 15528688 other South Africans I shared in this democratic right.
South Africans and the IEC set an example for how elections should take place on African soil when compared to recent elections held in Zimbabwe and Kenya.
The ANC party headed by controversial leader Jacob Zuma have reached 10 million votes and seems to be heading for a 2/3 majority. All eyes will be set on the man Jacob Zuma to see what happens next. During the week while we were out voting for our next President an attempted assassination took place on the Prime Minister of Lesotho Bethuel Pakalitha Mosisili.
Tomorrow I am heading to Lesotho and the Drakensberg for 12 days. I am really excited to go traveling again and will this time be heading north with my parents.
I was contacted by a friend of mine Attie Lotz about a month ago saying that he wanted to go and spend a few days on the West Coast. We would take his bakkie and go camping at different spots all along the beach. Eventually we decided to go this past week after the Easter Weekend. It did not take long to recruit two more friends for the trip. Phil joined us and 2 hours before we left Cape Town Gerick decided to join in the fun. The four of us left Cape Town and headed in the direction of Vredenburg for the night. Upon arrival in Vredenburg we decided to buy meat for the night only and a basic breakfast for our stay on the beach near Trekoskraal (We did buy enough alcohol for 3 days though).
Driving next to the coast we found an amazing surf spot and it did not take long for Phil and Gerick to jump into the cold water for a surf. I joined them on my bodyboard and caught a few waves before sunset.
After an enjoyable surf Attie informed us that he had to go back home for work and fly to Johannesburg the following morning at 8am for a presentation. Before embarking on our trip he mentioned that the possibility existed that he would have to go back for work, but he thought it would only be on Friday (in 3 days time).
We had to decide if we wanted to drive back or just camp out next to the beach and try and organize for someone to come pick us up in 2 days time. We decided to stay for two nights, but had only enough food for a day and a half. This did not stop us and the following morning we walked along the rocks and collected mussels which we added to some rice that I packed for an emergency and made amazing Seafood Paella.
We were all very optimistic about our stay on the beach and the fact that this month is survivor month on Discovery Channel made a positive contribution. Gerick took it as far as to go ‘hunting’ and found a mouse. We did most definitely not eat it, but had a great laugh at Gerick’s initiative and therefore appropriately named him Bear Grylls of Ultimate Survival. This day the wind picked up and the waves died down. We went into the ocean and attempted to surf but soon decided to rather drink beer.
Through out our stay the weather was good and the wind tolerable, but on the morning of day 3 we were woken up by gale force wind and thunder. We decided to go find shelter (Bear Grylls survival tip: 1) next to some rocks and moved all our belongings. The rain stopped and the sun came out, but we were ready to leave. We phoned Gerick’s mom and she made the effort to come pick us up. Finding us would be a different story and I said that I’ll walk to a meeting point 3km back. At the meeting point I met some fishermen complaining about the bad weather and hitched a lift with them to the main road were I thought it to be a better place to meet our lift. Our first camp spot was the only place to find cellphone signal along the coast and by the time I reached the main road our lift had luckily just arrived.
Camping next to the sea with no one around was great. We only received company once when a Vredenburg local came to top up on his Perlemoen “desire”. The rest of our time was peaceful. We stayed for free, surfed amazing waves, drank lots of beers and embraced the serenity.
Last weekend I went for a party on a farm close to Veldrift on the West coast. Botes and Jana had their birthday bash here and everyone took the weekend off to go celebrate on the farm.
I always have a good laugh when going to Veldrift and I am sure that Forest Gump is hiding away somewhere in this town.
I also went up to the KKNK Festival in Oudtshoorn this week. My friends (Foto Na Dans) played a gig there at the MK Kaktus Sessies. It was an enjoyable night, but one night was enough for me. It has been the 4th year in a row now that I’ve been to the Festival for one night only and I hope to do so again.
My friend Vanessa Malherbe is actively involved in community development and she invited me to come see one of the projects that she is involved with in Khayelitsha.
They managed to get Discovery Health involved in this project and on the day I went there were about 10 volunteers helping with renovation work.
I went along with Vanessa to see the project and take some photos for her and myself and did not get involved in the renovation work as we stayed only for a short while.
The amount of love and dedication shown by the caretakers like Virginia was beautiful.
A new building is being built for Bathandwa and they are hoping to be moving premises by the end of May. The current house is over populated and this move will be a great relief.
"If we can save just one child from a life of poverty, it will have been worth it" - Bathandwa
The Bathandwa Day and Night Care Centre is a place of safety that cares for abandoned, HIV+ and physically or mentally disabled children - children who would otherwise be left impoverished to wander the streets of Cape Town.
Currently, 36 children are living in a home more suitable for a family of five. The house belongs to the couple who founded the place of safety, and is where they raised their own three children.
I am good friends with the guys from the Bellville band Foto Na Dans. I always get the opportunity to go to their gigs and whenever there a gig that’s far away they invite me to come along for a night out usually at a countryside festival.
I’ve had many trips with them ranging for driving to Potchefstroom for a battle of the bands in 2004, the Alabama Fees in Velddrift, gigs at KKNK, George, Clain William and many more.
I love going along and had the opportunity to drive up with them to Upington for the Kalahari Kuier Fees in 2008. This was the furthest I’ve gone for one night out. There and back was 1500km as we all drove up in a Toyota Quantum.
I never take a camera with for a night out as I don’t feel like looking after it and would rather just party with my friends. I snapped these on the Upington trip last year.
Check their Facebook page for more band and gig details.
All of this cost me approximately R8500. I would always take the cheapest transport and cheapest accommodation. My biggest expenses were food and booze.
I edited a documentary style slideshow of the trip.
In Johannesburg I stayed with my BMX friends for 5 days ( www.theriot.co.za ). I had no idea how I was going to get to Cape Town. I did not want to fly home as I wanted to complete the journey overland. By this time I had made use of busses, boats, hitchhiking, taxi’s and chapas. I did not know much about train transport in South Africa and decided to investigate.
Traveling on the Shosaloza Meyl was great and I would most definitely do it again. If you’re a group of friends with little money and you have time on your hands then the train is best option. There is a fully stocked bar and a restaurant with amazing cheap food.
From JHB to Cape Town by train took 28 hours. By bus it would take just over 20 hours. Taking the train was a great experience. I was alone in my cabin till sunset when 2 more people joined. Being alone on the train gave me lots of time to reflect back on the journey I had made.
I arrived in Bellville at lunch time after a good night sleep on the train. From the station I took a mini bus to a drop off point near my house and then walked the 2km home, thus completing the journey all the way overland.
It was smooth sailing heading from Vilanculos south to Maputo and back to South Africa.
I stayed in Tofo for 4 days and just relaxed on the beach before going to Maputo. I had an amazing time at Fatima’s Backpackers and had to go back with friends.
The past December holiday (2008) I went back as we did another “Via the Backroads” trip and Mozambique as included as one of the many destinations. (news on Via will soon be posted).
The Backpackers in Tofo has a shuttle service that takes travelers and passengers back to Maputo. This is a convenient service as the Chapa leaves at 4am and takes you to your backpackers in Maputo arriving at lunch time.
I would often buy food from street vendors and at the komatipoort border post I had my last street meal. I walked through the street vendors and bought Nshima and a ¼ Chicken. It did not look great, but I was just too hungry. The girl that sat next to me on the bus refused to buy the same meal and said she would rather wait. I was still in Africa mode and did not know when we would stop again and had to fill my stomach.
It was not 15 min after I finished my meal that the bus stopped outside a shopping centre. I walked in and bought a fruit juice, I was back in South Africa and it felt great.
I left Malawi just before lunch and made my way to the border of Mozambique. From the border I took a Chapa to Tete and arrived after dark yet again. I had no idea where I was and no one could speak proper English. Luckily the driver was from Zimbabwe and understood me. He took me to a hotel and upon arrival I knew that this place was not for me. I asked around for a cheaper option and ended up at a rest house next to the highway. This was the first time I paid for a bed, but had little option as it was dark.
The next morning I woke up early to be at the bus stop at 6am. When I arrived at the bus stop there were no more busses left and I was told that the busses leave at 4am and should wait another day. So I walked towards the end of town and waited for a pick up truck going to Chimoio.
At 8am the first pick up truck arrived and I took the lift to Chimoio. I sat on the back of the truck for a complete day driving through the hottest province of Mozambique, the Tete province. This was a very long day and just before sunset we arrived in Chimoio. I had to find accommodation fast as I sat on the back of a truck for 10 hours covering 400km and it would be dark soon.
I jumped of next to the road and started walking towards the town centre. Chimoio was a lot bigger than what I thought it would be. I asked around for a place to stay but no one could speak English. Eventually I met a guy and he said he would give me a lift to Pink Papaya Backpackers. I knew about this place thanks to my Lonely Planet Guide.
The next morning I was at the bus station at 4am looking to take a bus to Vilanculos. All the busses passed Vilanculos, but you had to pay the full fair to go to Maputo. I decided I would take a Chapa to Inchope and wait for a pick up or a bus to Vialnculos.
I met a Zimbabwean on the Chapa also going to Vilanculos. We arrived in Inchope and climbed of at the intersection waiting for a lift. Adriano (my Zimbabean friend) said we should try taking a truck as they always took passengers for extra money.
We walked up to a parked truck and asked a lift. I had this feeling that the trip was going to be hell as we started of with an argument about how much we should pay for the journey. With no alternative transport we boarded the truck. We were the first two on board and I thought to myself it could be comfortable. Then we stopped at a pick up point and they just started loading the cabin full of people.
I noticed that the truck was transporting another truck that had broken down, so after the first stop I told the driver who was by that time already drunk that I was going to go sit in the back with Adriano.
We would stop at every town and the drivers would buy goods like goats and chickens to sell at a later stage on the trip. At all the pit stops they would use our money to buy beer and food and chat to the ladies. These guys were there to exploit us and I knew we would not arrive in Vilanculos anytime before dark.
My initiative to go and sit on the truck on the back gave the drunk drivers the idea to add more people and before long the back truck was also filled. Luckily the back truck had a CD player and we listened to Dire Straits and Peter Tosh all the way.
Then matters got worse as we arrived at the SaveRiver police check point and one of the passengers Dina was in the country illegally. He left Zimbabwe with no paperwork and was heading to South Africa. This meant that we had to hide for almost 20min as they inspected the cargo load. This did not bother the drivers or Dina as they would pay a bribe if we got caught and head on.
It started getting dark and even the passengers became annoyed. We were stopping all the time as the drunk drivers changed places driving at no more that 50km/h.
The truck stopped at the turn off for Vilanculos and we were informed that this would be how far they would take us. We were forced to get of and find alternative transport as we lost yet another argument. Adriano, Dina and I caught a lift on the back of truck and arrived in Vilanculos at about 10pm.
Adriano offered me accommodation at his place for the night and the next morning I booked in at the backpackers.
This was truly the longest 3 days of traveling I have experienced and I was glad to know that further south more people would speak English, more transport options available and shorter distances to cover.
I arrived in Nkhota-kota at 5pm, thinking the Ilala would arrive at 8pm. After asking around the locals soon informed me that they did not expect the Ilala Ferry to arrive before 12pm.
I walked down to the lake where all the people were waiting for the ferry. Everyone waited at a broken down building and I soon found out that the Ilala was most definitely not on time. I sat and waited with the locals till the sun rose at 6am when only the Ilala arrived. I boarded the Ilala 10 hours late, bitten by mosquitoes and hardly any sleep.
Wanting to embark the ferry was a complete new adventure. It was every man for himself as everyone on the ferry wanted to get off and I wanted to get on board. I climbed over boxes of fish and vegetables with everyone protesting that I am going the wrong way. I immediately went up to 1st class and tried to sleep for 4 hours while waiting to head further south.
As the engines started and the ferry made its way south, the crew asked me to pay. I walked around and realized that 2nd class was empty. 1st class was a better option but I had limited money and decided to take 2nd class.
We arrived in MonkeyBay at 12pm and this would be where the Ilala would dock. It was too late to find accommodation and I decided to stay on the ferry till the sun came up. Having docked I told the crew that it’s to late and I am going up to 1st class to sleep.
The next morning I headed to CapeMaclear. I met an Australian Traveler and we took a pick up truck to CapeMaclear where I stayed for a three days.
I’d been to CapeMaclear before when I was 13 years old. On our visit with my parents I met a local called Francis. Francis would always write letters to me and my brother. Upon arrival in CapeMaclear I went into the village to find Francis. I found his sister and she told me that he was in Blantyre. On the morning I left CapeMaclear to go to Blantyre Francis showed up outside my tent. He was back in town and the community told him that I’d been looking for him. He had a chat where after I took a pick up truck with my Australian friend Adrian to Blantyre.
Blantyre is the biggest city in Malawi and I only stayed for a night. The next morning it was off to Mozambique as this would be a new challenge with no one speaking English and the distances between destinations being further.
Malawi is a great country with the friendliest people. Malawi is a small country and accommodation is easily available with numerous transport options. I had an amazing stay in this beautiful country and will be going back as soon as I get the opportunity.
Deciding to head further north to Malawi was the best decision I made on my trip. Malawi was amazing and the highlight country of my trip.
I headed to NkhataBay first as this would be my turn around spot. I would have loved to have traveled further north but sometime I had to turn around. It would have been great if I had a plane ticket back from somewhere further north, but I still had to make ground back to Cape Town and my money started to become tighter. Zambia was ridiculously expensive. While I was there a Liter of Petrol cost R22 and I paid R130 for 10 beers from the local liquor store. These are just a few examples. In Malawi prices were cheaper and compared with South African prices.
I tried to avoid African Cities as I think they all look the same. I did not stay in Lusaka and also didn’t want to stay in Lilongwe. I arrived in Lilongwe at lunch time and immediately boarded an overcrowded bus to Mzuzu. From here it’s an hour’s drive by minibus to NkhataBay.
NkhataBay is truly one of the most beautiful places I have ever been. I stayed at a backpackers called MayokaVillage. I rate this to be the best Backpackers I have ever stayed at with amazing views, lots of activities, cool like minded travelers and amazing food. This is a place where you can get stuck for a very long time and I going back there as soon possible.
I stayed at Mayoka for a weekend and then turned around and started heading south. I wanted to catch the Ilala Ferry, but did not have enough money for first class all the way and would not have made it in 2nd class for 2 days to MonkeyBay. So I opted to travel by road to Nkhota-kota where I would board the Ilala to MonkeyBay.
While in Zambia I decided to travel further north to Malawi as it was not that far from where I stayed on the Lower Zambezi. From the Lower Zambezi near Siavonga to Chipata on the border with Malawi would take me 12 hours. Hein organized me a lift with a lady he knew from the Kapenta Fishing Industry to Lusaka from where I boarded an afternoon bus to Chipata. Arriving in Chipata after dark would be the first of many. I camped the night and left for Lake Malawi the next morning.
I did not go on this trip to see wildlife, but somehow they seemed to be everywhere. The Zambezi river is the lifeline for all these animals and you have to respect that they belong here.
This Kingfisher would sit in the tree next to my tent every morning when I woke up and the presence of Hippos are also everywhere on the Zambezi River.
I worked as a fundraiser in DublinIreland in December 2005. I was a representative for a NGO called World Vision. We would work on the streets of the city asking people to sponsor a child in Africa.
While working on the streets I met Hein Myburgh. He was only in Dublin for the day and was in a big rush. We had a quick chat about his charity on the Lower Zambezi called Mukuyu Outreach. He handed me a business card and said that if I ever wanted to visit him I would be welcome.
I kept the business card for 3 years before giving him a call. I always had the idea of traveling into Africa with publ
