Travelling South Africa

Sunday 2002-09-08

Hamburg - Johannesburg
15.45 Our taxi to Hamburg Airport starts. After Check in we enjoy an ice cream on the airport terrace. The weather is lovely - we're in the right mood for our holidays.
18.45 BA Flight 971 arrives safely in London Heathrow. We take the bus to international terminal. An hour later we engage the huge Boeing 747-400 to our final destination - Johannesburg.
Erika who is a tourist guide in this town is my seat neighbour. We talk a lot about tourism in South Africa, human rights and other stuff. Later the in-flight entertainment broadcasts "About A Boy" with Hugh Grant - I fall asleep.

Monday 2002-09-09

Johannesburg - Blydepoort
After arriving in Johannesburg we have to wait several times, first at the passport control, later at the baggage return, the exchange cashier and finally at the car rental desk. But then it's all done and we start in our fairly new white Mazda Etude onto our journey through South Africa.
Driving on the left hand side is not the big problem I expected - at least not on the motorway. Leaving it for the first stop becomes a harder task: Which lane is the right (meaning the left) one? Next stop is Middelburg, a rather unimportant little town. We look for a little historic village called "Botshabelo". After nearly one hour of unsuccessful searching we finally stand in front of the gate. Lacking of change the guard lets us into the reserve without any payment. The village itself is lies idyllically on the shores of a little river, where horses graze. All walls of the village are beautifully painted in bright colours. Little almond trees blossom inside the yards and handsome women show their traditional clothing and art works.
About 4 p.m. we leave Middelburg after we've down some shopping in the local supermarket. A cooler box and some cereals for our first breakfast are the essential things we consider buying.
Onwards the N4 to Lydenburg, before we reach the town at sunset we visit several places where fires are set onto the savannah. Our first evening in Africa. Only a few minutes later we are surrounded by darkness. And still 80k to go. It is past seven when we reach Aventura Blydepoort, a huge holiday resort with several camp sites, huts, cottages, rondavels...
Dinner buffet at the local restaurant closes at 9 p.m. so it's enough time for us to try some "Kuddel".
After a few words with our camp site neighbours from Dresden we fall asleep in spite of the noise the frogs make upon our arrival.

Tuesday 2002-09-10

Blydepoort - Lower Sabie
We are not impressed of the nightly thunderstorm, we are asleep. After packing our tent and stuff we have breakfast at the "Lower view point" inside the resort. The first real impression of Blyde River Canyon we get at the other view point called "World's End" where we glance at the three rondavels, circular rocks that are shaped like the african huts we often see. We're leaving the resort just to turn into the next little road to the next view point. That's what our day looks like from now on: Leaving one scenic view for the next. Meanwhile the clouds have been burned away and the shadows lingering in the canyon vanish at last.
At "Bourke's Luck Potholes" the sun is out and nature is overwhelming. The water of the Troir River has washed circular holes out of the volcanic stone on its fall down to join the Blyde River. That is where the name Potholes comes from.
For lunch we enjoy pancakes and African music that is sung by a group of black women. Our stop after the next is "God's Window", another view point, where we enjoy a walk through a somehow jungle-like forest before we are tempted to buy our first souvenir - a painting. At least it should not be like Thailand, where the aspect of shopping got very underrated.
A few hours drive later we reach the Paul Krüger Gate of the Krüger National Park at ten past three. We are asked if we had firearms in our boot, we are happy to deny. After paying the admission fee, we are encouraged to read ourselves through the park rules. Those are easy to understand: Stay in your car, don't talk to strange lions and do never call an ostrich a penguin. :-)
Only a few meters behind the gate we approach a female Kudu, a large tragelaphine antelope. After a short visit to Skukuza, one of the parks rest camps, the road to Lower Sabie takes us along the Sabie River, where we get a glimpse of many birds in the river and two giraffes, that walk through the bushes at the other riverbank.
At 5 p.m. thinking to be only two kilometres away from Lower Sabie Rest Camp we encounter a sign post that says Lower Sabie - 30 km. Now it's time to step on it! With a speed limit of 50 km/h and still so many animals to see it's hard to meet the deadline of 6 p.m. when all the gates close, even the ones of the rest camps.
We rush forward. Impalas and baboons are of no interest, a hyena merely gives Katharina the shivers, but there's not much time to stand and stare. Only a few lions bathing in the evening sun on a rock in the river bed are worth a short stop. And of course the giraffe, that appears out of nowhere on the road. Apparently unimpressed it keeps on munching the leaves from the acacia trees. As we pass the huge animal it looks through the co-drivers window as if to ask for a ride. But off we are to the rest camp that we reach at three minutes to the deadline after having a look at the hippos at sunset dam, a large water hole.
Budget hut No 40 is going to be our home for the next two nights. We have a lovely dinner at the restaurant chatting with two Bavarians.

Wednesday 2002-09-11

Around Lower Sabie
5.30 our alarm clock rings: Nature doesn't wait. At six o'clock we're leaving the rest camp, it still is rather cold, but the sun starts to wake up the animals. At Sunset Dam no hippo is to be seen, that's why we're crossing the Lower Sabie into a northern direction. Only a few moments later we turn right onto the Mlondozi Weg. Here large areas of the bush are burnt to enable the regeneration of the vegetation. Otherwise with all the game it would not have this chance. But in spite of the scarce botany both vultures and zebras are warming themselves in the first beams of the morning sun. The zebras seem to already return from a trip to the little reservoir which attracts us as well. Exactly at eight we arrive at the picknick site that is situated just above the dam. A Pack of tourists with binoculars is awaiting us. They are "here for the birds, not for the game". Nevertheless they seem to be very excited as they spot a female lion who is walking through the bushes. She is quite a distance away, but it is fun following her with the camera or the binoculars. So do we. After standing there for over half an hour our stomachs begin to snarl and we start our breakfast. We are not as good equipped as all the other people having their picnic baskets at their side with all those table cloths and dishes. But we are happy sitting in the African sun, having our simple breakfast and watching little and big animals.
After we return to the main road, Katharina gets more and more tired and regardless of all the gnus, zebras, wild bucks and a giraffe we turn around and head back to Lower Sabie rest camp. At the river there's a little surprise: Hippos in the water surrounding the dam. And the grey shapes at the shore - are those not ...? Elephants, that's right. A whole flock is enjoying the reed that is growing between the river and the fence of the camp.
After a copious midday nap we chose doing the route we had to rush through the day before. The later it gets, the more animals come out. Culmination is the flock of five giraffes that munches at the side of the path we are driving before it crosses our way. On our way back we stop by at the Sunset Dam to watch hippos and birds again.
In the evening we enjoy our first South African braai (this means BBQ) with sausages and potatoes out of the charcoal. Delicious!

Thursday 2002-09-12

Lower Sabie - Pretoriuskop
At 6.30 the sun penetrates our curtains. Breakfast is at the river (behind the fence). We overlook the milk being adulterated, due to the fact that we finally suffice in getting the chance to join a morning walk on Friday. Then we're leaving Lower Sabie - not before we gave the hippos a visit at sunset dam.
Southwards we go along the Mativuhlungu Road. Just at the beginning of our trip we watch a few elephants, and a hint of another driver leads us directly to a lion that dozes at the side of the gravel road in the morning sun. Only a couple of minutes later a rhino crosses our way and disappears again between the bushes. This seems to be maximum output for this morning drive. As some sort of compensation we are not very lucky after we returned to the main road - instead we drive fairly fast to the next turn.
It becomes more and more hot, the sandy road is bumpy. Only at the water holes there is life (game as well as people watching it). At the Muhlamba river a crocodile is lolling in the sun. Then we're back again on the tarred road. Meanwhile the natural scenery has changed: More rocks and hills are to be seen, obviously of volcanic origin. In the hot midday sun we deserve a rest, so we go to Afsaal, the only picnic site on our today's tour. A lot of monkeys are keen on our bananas and the other food, they banish Katharina under the big roof of the site.
After this break both of us are terribly tired, we find a little place to park our car in the penumbra of some trees.
Viewing animals gets harder on the last kilometres of the Voortrekker road. Only a few gnus and a giraffe are the yield. Arriving at the camp Pretoriuskop, the oldest of the park, we are taking our hut in the neighbourhood of a group of South African tourists, four braais are already lighting the ground.
With the "BBQ fan" of the kind tour guide our braai is a lot quicker than theirs and we enjoy our sausages, potatoes and tomatoes. After a short walk inside the camp we're off to bed.

Friday 2002-09-13

Pretoriuskop - Malolotja N.R. (SWL)
Friday, the 13th! At 4.30 we get up and pack our things into the car, only half an hour later two armed guides are awaiting us at the petrol station inside the camp. Along with four other tourists we form a group that is willing to look for rhinos. But before we come to the part of walking we drive in an open vehicle through the cool morning air. At 40 k's per hour we are hiding behind a woollen blanket, but still are freezing. After another 45 minutes we set our foot onto the national parks ground for the first time.
After an hour of walking through the savannah we hear the first rhino coming, and then we se it, too. It's a big white rhino, that is just curious about us and walking towards us. Our guides are so careful as to dispel it. After that occasion we see a lot more rhinos from very close distances. Other game we don't see except a gnu, that is joining a herd of four rhinos at a place, where we are sitting down for breakfast. After tasting biltong (dry meat of different animals like beef, ostrich or kudu) for the first time, we head back to the car, not before we see another six or seven rhinos. Then the walk is over - quicker than we thought it would be.
At ten o'clock we're back at Pretoriuskop, leaving the camp just a few minutes later. The last hour of our Krüger stay has begun - and is gone when we reach Numbi Gate. No animals in the boot - we can proceed.
We pass White River (Wit Rivier) and Nelspruit and head south to the old miners town of Barberton, where we get new petrol and money from ABSA bank. After that we have to hurry because the border post to Swaziland closes at 4 p.m., and Swaziland is the place where we go today. The biggest handicap is the tarred road. Because it ends just a few kilometres behind Barberton. From now it's gravel we have to drive on. A narrow road winds itself around the hills and mountains, always up and down. Thirty-five kilometres are left until the border, and it takes us nearly an hour to get there. Arriving there we are closely inspected and we got registered and stamped to have left South Africa and entered Swaziland.
Arriving on Swazi side, there's tarred road for the first five kilometres, but then we proceed on a gravelled road till we reach Pigg's Peak and the main road - the M1. Now we're back in life, and south we go. We reach Malolotja Nature Reserve at 5 p.m., the receptionist is very kind and we talk a while with him about politics, football and nature. After been having a look at the visitor's book, we understand his chattiness. The last one in the reserve has been a single German, who stayed four days on his own and left half a day before. This means we're on our own - so we decide to stay in the main camp and not to pay a visit to the wild backpacker's camps, where no water and toilet can be found. Even the main camp has no electric lights - at least if it has them we are not able to use it. The sun is about to set and our campfire gets very well and very fast the coal is burned away. The wind is cold up here (approximately 1500 metres) and there is nothing around to do - so we're gone into our tent at maybe 7.30 and shiver ourselves a good night.

Saturday 2002-09-14

Malolotja N.R. (SWL) - Mkuze (SA)
Early in the morning the cold air drives me out of my sleeping back. There seems to be no hot water in the shower facilities, so we abandon breakfast at the main camp. Instead we pack and move our car to a nice place with an astonishing view over the Swazi mountains.
That's where we have breakfast in our car with the heating running. After this refreshment we want to walk and have some exercise in the mountains. Our very special morning walk doesn't take us far away, but is strenuous and very beautiful. The little path takes us down to the falls of the Malolotja River, where the sun comes out behind the mountains and the nature comes to life again.
On our way out of the park we find the reason for our car smelling of methylated spirits: Our camping stove has leaked and the spirits have soaked nearly all the clothes in my bag. Nice!
We leave the park at 10.45, forty-five minutes later we reach Mbabane, the capital of Swaziland. We quickly recognise, that the town hasn't got much to offer except a "King Pie" fast food counter and an open market, so we leave on the M3 southwards. Only a few kilometres behind Mbabane we visit a native "Swazi Cultural Village". As we arrive, a man requests us to visit the waterfall first, so that's what we do. As we come back to the approximately 20 huts inside the fence, there is nobody to show us around, and so we enter the village. Then a man appears who tells us that all the inhabitants are just about to dance - a group of tourists has asked for it - and we shall come with him and visit the show. So we do.
The tourists are from France, and they had lunch before we arrived. We order a bottle of water while the dancing show begins.
Both men and women are double-jointed and make a lot of noise with their drums and whistles. You cannot really understand if you haven't experienced a dance like that. After half an hour the dance is over and we are now guided through the village. The French people are always around us, and their guide has to translate all the things the Swazi is telling. Obviously he has took part in such a tour several times, that must be why he is making a real big story out of every sentence the Swazi guy is telling us. Unfortunately the French don't understand the English language. At least it's very interesting to hear about the traditional rules and laws the native people follow.
Back on the main road we go south - back to South Africa. On our way we see a lot of sugar cane on the fields. As the sun sets, our brave MAZDA has almost reached the South African border.
In Mkuze, another 100km south of it, we check in a hotel named Ghost Mountain Inn, which praises itself as the finest hotel in Zululand. The double room is 320 Rand per person (32 €), but we decide to take it, because there is not much choice. Dinner is excluded, that's why we decide to cut off the manager's nose and eat beans on toast - heated in the water boiler the room is equipped with. The dinner might have been better, but we are just happy.

Sunday 2002-09-15

Mkuze - St. Lucia Resort
After an opulent breakfast we're back on the road. Only 120 kilometres lie between us and our target for today - St. Lucia Wetland Park. On our way to the resort at the shore of the Indian Ocean we pass several plantations with agaves and eucalyptus trees.
To find a staying in St. Lucia isn't very hard, 100 Rand later we have a room in an old backpacker at our disposal. Then it's time to hire a boat to get onto the lake. But this seems to be more of a problem. Because of the storm there is no hire company that actually gives away any boat. So we instead take a walk to the ocean. It's a bit of a foot walk and we are gazed at, but finally we reach the shore and let the water flow around our ankles. The wind is still very strong, sand blows against our calves, so that it almost hurts. Excavators and caterpillars are meanwhile brushing the sand to close the connection between the St. Lucia lake and the Indian Ocean. An Italian vessel - the "Jolly Rubino" has stranded on the coast just a day ago, and now the people of the region try to save their beautiful landscape and the manifold biodiversity from the oil and the other harmful substances the ship has loaded.
Our way back to the town leads us through crocodile area, fortunately we are not annoyed by any of these scale monsters.
We decide to undertake a trip with a large boat on the lake, the one possibility that's available in spite of the wind. At three o'clock our skipper Steve leaves the pier behind, for the following three hours we listen to his voice telling us everything we need to know about St. Lucia's fresh water supply, hippos, crocodiles, eucalyptus trees, mangroves, African swallows, fish eagles and many more.
Unfortunately we are not on board anymore as the sun sets in St. Lucia, but we use the time to cook a pasta dinner in our room. That's when we decide to book a whale watching tour for the next morning. This means getting up early. This is no problem, because we're early in bed due to a power blackout that stops us surfing the internet.

Monday 2002-10-16

St. Lucia - Casuarina Beach
Day starts at 5.15 because at 5.45 the whole whale watching party meets in the office of the boat company. There is one person beyond the limit of twelve, but it's going to be alright...
Arriving at the beach the backpacks get stowed away in the boat - from now on there's no turning back. The boat is pulled into the water and turned around. We boys hold the boat steady to let the girls get in. After entering ourselves everyone is on the specified position he/she has got to take. Twelve cylinders are beginning to roar - the fun ride starts.
With enormous speed we take the waves that are about two and a half metres high. After half an hour drive the skipper suddenly stops the boat. This is a place where we are supposed to look out for dolphins. But none are to be seen. We move on, always looking for a sign of a dark back parting the waves. But we are unlucky until - a whale! About 300m away we can see a blow appearing above the water surface. We rush forward, but the whale is gone. Dannie, our skipper is in despair, does he have to pay us our money back?
We keep on looking for the big humpback whales and there they are - two of them in the water on starboard side. After two and a half hours and four or five whales that haven't jumped :-( we return to the beach after a short visit to the "Jolly Marino" that lies a few metres away from the shore - still burning.
After returning from the beach to our backpacker we are hungry as a hunter. After a huge breakfast we leave St. Luica at about eleven. On the motorway the kilometres fly away, and at half past one already we reach "Beach Bum", a backpacker's h(e)aven at the North Coast. - South African's coast with the Indian Ocean is divided into several sectors, and every sector got its own name like Wild Coast, Sunshine Coast, Dolphin Coast, etc.
"Beach Bum" is run by Jonathan, a approximately 35 year old queer, who has taken over the estate from another guy. He is a great cook as well, but I doubt that his plans of opening a restaurant will be very successful because of the large amount of drugs he is smoking. Grass is rather cheap in SA, but nevertheless a lot of energy the man has goes into his cigarettes.
In the afternoon we leave for a short visit in Umhlanga, a goal of many tourists that we have been recommended to. But it's just a city you could experience in southern Europe as well, the beach is packed with hotels. At Beach Bum in Casuarina Beach it's a lot more quiet and idyllic. In the evening as the sun sets we visit a squatter camp across the road where we drink beer out of 0.75 litre bottles. That's a lot on an empty stomach. I'm still able to recognise that the barracuda Jonathan serves for dinner is absolutely fantastic, but the following tins of beer are enough. I'm off to bed.

Tuesday 2002-09-17

Valley of Thousand Hills, Pietermaritzburg
It should have been a day of rest. But we cleave through the "Valley of 1000 Hills" - up and down and up again. Because our maps of this region are not that excellent we finally arrive in Pietermaritzburg, the capitol of KwaZuluNatal (KZN). Once there we go shopping and find a CD with club music for our car stereo. A bag of Indian spices we buy as well, around Durban there are a lot of Indians. On our way home we have a look at the tourist road through the 1000-hill-valley. We agree on our own route being the more beautiful one and therefore conclude to take the motorway back to Durban. This works excellently until we get stuck inside a major traffic jam in Durban. After one and a half hour it takes us for four kilometres we escape the traffic and head straightway to the biggest shopping mall in the southern hemisphere - GATEWAY. Ritzy.
In the quiet evening we are trying to find out who "Shithead" is. And we do.

Wednesday 2002-09-18

Casuarina Beach - Oribi Gorge
In the morning we say good bye to Jonathan and Chris who's the one of the other folks that hasn't left yet. After a fifteen kilometres drive Katharina remembers that we left a few things in the fridge. Not that important, I reply, but the cleaned camping stove is still in the kitchen too. So we turn around and start again - good practice for Katharina. But at least there's no big problem: On the N2 Motorway (no traffic jam today) we go past Durban and southwards to Port Shepstone. After reaching that milestone there are only 20 kilometres left to today's final destination - Oribi Gorge. The little national park gives home to a - gorge. It is really impressive when you take a walk on the brim. We do that on the "Mziki" trail that leads us down from the rest camp to the road and up again over rocky steps. Seeing a lot of animals like millipedes, lizards, toads, antelopes and a rich and beautiful fauna we enjoy the walk with the fantastic view over the gorge. The next to last part of the track leads us down again to the river that shaped this gorge into the surrounding highlands. This is very strenuous because of its steepness and the loose rocks we walk on.
Arriving at the bottom of the gorge we hurry back to the camp - the sun has already set behind the heights. The faster we walk the longer the day gets for us, and as we reach the camp at a quarter to six the sun is up again! One of the rangers even sells us a pack of (slightly wet) fire wood and provides us with a key for the kitchen, that is normally reserved for the inhabitants of the huts.
For dinner we have potatoes and tomatoes out of the fire. Unfortunately there is a little disaster with the tomato sauce which tries to escape in the kitchen. Sheit. The night air is not that cold but rather wet.

Thursday, 2002-09-19

Oribi Gorge - Coffee Bay
Today there is a single entry in our agenda. It says: Driving. That's why we depart early from Oribi Gorge - about 8.30 we're on the road. In Kokstad we take the chance to replenish our reserves, after that we leave KZN and enter Eastern Cape. The roads get worse every kilometre we cover, but nevertheless we proceed. A gravel part on the N2 that is shown on our map does not appear and so we turn left just behind Umtata and head down to the coast - to Coffee Bay. The road is winding for another 80 kilometres through an Irish looking landscape until we arrive at the lovely bay where we check in at the Bonvu Backpackers. In the afternoon we take a bath in the Indian Ocean and in the evening we take a sundowner on the hill above the bay. After dinner we are audience to an original African dance.

Friday, 2002-09-20

Coffee Bay - Grahamstown
In the morning during breakfast Marc (Dr. Chi) provides us with a lot of useful tips and the address of Nolene in Grahamstown. Before we start to get there, we take a detour of eight kilometres gravel road to "Hole in the Wall", a rock with a hole at the shore, nothing more. Only for this stone we take the risk to be robbed by four little boys who lead us to the rock and demand proper payment on return. As I don't have the money they want they got really angry and try to prevent me from getting into my car. But we insist on leaving and off we are. After having returned to the main road we drive straight on to Grahamstown where we arrive at half past two in front of Nolene's House. It is locked - bars in front of every window and the main door. As I spot the neighbour's daughter I ask her to call for Nolene and so she does. Nolene cannot believe what is happening to her and tells us that she got introduced to Marc only a week ago. That sounded a bit different in the morning when Marc told me to send her his best wishes, his love and that he wants to have children with her...
But Nolene is not really shocked, in fact we are invited to a braai party at her friends house. So we come to be some sort of VIP guests on this little party. As there are Eric and his three friends, Nolene and we. One of Eric's friends works on a farm and has brought some of the finest beef. This is really delicious. Even Katharina can't resist. After the fire has burned down, several joints go around and we are invited to continue the feast in the actual housing of Eric. We decline because we're tired and not sure what will come out of this. Down in Nolene's house we spend a silent night with only a few police sirens howling.

Saturday, 2002-09-21

Grahamstown - Storm's River
In the morning - Nolene has not come back to her house yet - I walk into the city to get some money. And it's the turn of another internet hour. After I've returned we take the keys to Eric, where the whole pack is consuming their morning drugs. Only one person is missing, he gives tennis lessons since nine o'clock. We wish good bye and hit the road. Our destination - the Garden Route. In Jeffrey's Bay we get close to the ocean again. At the "Shell Festival" there is a lot of crowd. Braai without an end, Biltong and chips on sticks are crammed into everyone's mouth. I prefer a cheeseburger while Katharina orders a vegetarian sandwich. After a little walk on the beach we move on.
We spend the night in Storm's River, where a little backpacker is kind of different from the others we've seen so far. No joint to be seen, and the television is the main attraction in the lunge. Even getting out isn't possible: it is raining.

Sunday, 2002-09-22

Storm's River - Buffalo Bay
As the alarm clock rings and it is still drizzly we turn around and keep on sleeping. After realising that the tent needs some time to dry we take a short drive to Big Tree National Monument. A beautiful hiking trail appeals to us - and so the next hour is gone. Though the drizzle falls even through the jungle like nature we have fun walking the greenness.
After we have picked up our nearly dry tent from the backpacker's we move on to Tsitsikamma National Park. This one is situated directly at the shore of the ocean and includes the mouth of Storm's River. The surge is overwhelmingly beautiful. White spume sprays over the rocks as the waves are crushing. We take our time to stare at this natural wonder and relax.
Just then we take another walk to a suspension bridge that spans the river mouth. Katharina is hungry and declines to climb the reefs which shelter the mouth from the oceans power. After crossing the bridge twice we hurry back to have lunch at the restaurant.
Then we're back on the N2 and off it again as we decide to take the more idyllic road piece via the Bloukrans Pass and the Grootrivier Pass. So come we do not drive over the highest African bridge (Bloukrans, 216m) but take a beautiful photograph of it.
Afterwards we cold-shoulder Plettenberg Bay and Knysna and drive straightway to Buffalo Bay, where we check in to "The Wildside" - a beautiful backpacker at the rocky coast of the ocean.
In the evening we are mainly interested in the issue of the election of the German Bundestag. But - there still is no final result.

Monday, 2002-09-23

Buffalo Bay - Wilderness
I get up at ten to six to take a few pictures of the sunrise at the ocean. In spite of this we take breakfast not that early because I go to sleep again after my excursion. But the refreshment is worth our time, because the following hours are strenuous. We rent a boat and canoe on a river that meets the ocean only a few hundred metres behind us. This means of course we go upriver. But amazingly we don't have to work hard because the strong onshore winds propels us forward. This is relaxing but Katharina is worried about our return. As the wind obviously gets stronger we have to fight very hard canoeing back to the rental station (and our parked car).
With arms like jelly we get into our car and back to Knysna. This town is famous for its seafood restaurants - so we stop and visit McDonald's. With newly gained strength we are prepared for the pesky negotiations with the local souvenir merchants. I really believe that everyone is happy when we leave the ground. Only after a short time we reach Wilderness and the "Fairy Knowe Backpackers" - pig Clarissa is happy to have us around - but we are not that happy with cats, dogs and a flock of guinea fowls.
Still broken from the canoeing tour in the morning we lie beside our tent - fucked up in the afternoon sun. Braai with cheese grillers, potatoes and tomatoes in the evening.

Tuesday, 2002-09-24

Wilderness - Montagu
It takes a while until our tent has dried and we are ready to go. But so we get a look at the old steam train that connects Knysna and George at the Garden Route. George is our first stop as well but we take a little detour on the old main road (good bye - N2) to visit "Map of Africa" - a place with a view upon a hill that was shaped by the Kaimaans River like the outline of Africa. It is not that attraction it presumes to be but we are impressed and glad to take the little roads to George. Short stop for shopping until we move on north to Oudtshoorn. Before we arrive we have already seen a lot of ostrich farms. They are very common in this area called the "Little Caroo". Around Oudtshoorn there are four ostrich show farms. We visit Highgate Ostrich Farm. Though it's a holiday, there are no big crowds. Carmen from Eberswalde leads us around along with four people from Berlin. We learn a lot about ostriches - how they live, mate, breed and die on a farm. But we can resist buying any feather duster or feather boa. A talk with Carmen later we are back on the road for the last three hours until we get to the western exit of the little Caroo, at Montagu. The town is surrounded by high mountains which screen the whole half desert from the rain clouds that arise above the Atlantic Ocean. The town and the camp site look a bit dozy to us, not even a duly prepared braai place is available. Winds are strong and cold on this evening, and the last wood and coal is burned away very fast. Tomorrow evening we will arrive in Cape Town.

Wednesday, 2002-09-25

Montagu - Cape Town
We're up early - unfortunately the sun isn't. It's the mountain's fault but we shiver as we pack the dry tent (desert!) and leave Montagu right now. It takes quite a time until we get breakfast in Worcester - in proper style - in our car.
On our way to Cape Town we recognise that it would not be that clever to arrive there in the middle of the day so we decide to visit the Cape of Good Hope at once. We leave the N1 highway and move past the airport to Muizenberg at the False Bay. Again the road goes right along the shore. Beach Stop.
On and on we drive at the False Bay. In Boulder's Beach lives a colony of African Penguins we take a look at. Katharina is disappointed about their height: I thought they were bigger.
Afterwards we enter Cape of Good Hope National Park (meanwhile we are used to everything being a National Park and costing money). At the parking lot a family of baboons terrorises tourists, especially those who are trying to eat or carry along food. We prefer to eat in the car with the windows closed - definitely the right decision.
Then we start the ascent to Cape Point. There are impressive views and whales to be gazed at - inside the Indian and the Atlantic Ocean, too. Since it is nearly four o'clock when we reach our car we decide against walking to the cape itself. Against walking we decide. But we have to see and stand there at Africa's most south-eastern point. So it's on our car to take us there.
On our way back to Cape Town city bowl we drive along beautiful bays at the Atlantic Ocean, before we choose the faster motorway. Both the first and the second backpacker we ask for a room in are fully booked. That's why we check in at the "Carnival Court". As any other backpacker we have stayed in Carnival Court is described in "From Coast to Coast", our guide to "Survive Backpacking in Southern Africa".
Everything that is in the car we carry into the room that is supposed to be our home until we leave this country. Only ten minutes later it looks like a grenade has exploded. In exchange the car looks tidy like we never seen it before. Our next problem is getting lunch. In the most recommended restaurant "Mama Africa" you've got to have a reservation. We don't have one, so we accept the offer of the doormen to have a seat at the bar. It's not convenient in any way but it's a seat and the ostrich filet is delicious (vegetarian curry for Katharina). A local band plays loud African music we really enjoy. Totally tired we walk the steps up to our room where - the party has just started. The music from the Long Street Café which seems to be situated right beneath our bed keeps us awake until three or four. Karaoke Night.

Thursday, 2002-09-26

Cape Town
In the morning we have to be quick. No more night in this disco! So all things wander into our car again and we're off to the next backpacker, the 'City Slickers' becomes our new home. Thereafter we have to hurry because the car has to be returned to the rental company. As we walk the way back to our lodging, Table Mountain lies there bathed in the light of the morning sun as if it calls us - up. But when we reach the backpacker, our host, an elder lady advises us not to go up, unless there are no clouds on the mountain. As some clouds have just arrived we decide to spare the trip for Saturday or Sunday.
We check out Carnival Court and get some information from Shawn who drives 'Detour' - a kind of travel agency in Longstreet. As he convinces us again to withstand from climbing Table Mountain today, we agree to walk the city and take a ferry to Robben Island, where people have been imprisoned in the age of Apartheid. But unfortunately all boats are fully booked, that's why we take a booking for Saturday.
Therefore shopping at the Albert and Victoria Waterfront is the only thing to do today, not easy with so many things around one could do and the Table Mountain still laughing at us.
Unfortunately even dinner at Mr. Pickwick's is not that satisfying, so we try to get some good temper with playing darts or table tennis before we give up and fall asleep.

Friday, 2002-09-27

Wine Tour around Stellenbosch
The good temper comes back when we wake up and realise that wine tasting is on our program for today. Ferdinand-Tours pick us up at 9.30 in the morning. A few basic principles are fixed:

1^st it's not about wine tasting, it's about wine drinking
2^nd no spitting out the wine (fine)
3^rd no vomiting in the car (even more fine)
4^th no vomiting at all (not as much fine)

In the morning we do the educational stuff, as long as we are able to absorb it. Our first wine estate is Villiera, where we do a tour through the cellar and drink (not taste!) Chenin Blanc, Sauvignon Blanc, Merlot/Pinotage, Merlot Reserve and Port. Second estate is called Simonsig, they have a long tradition in wine and have been awarded several times. 'Kaapse Vonkel' is a 'Cap Classique' - French would call this Champagne but South Africans are not allowed to. We are shown how to open a bottle of Cap Classique the traditional way. After a few remarks about how Cap Classique is produced we drink more Chenin Blanc, Franciscaner (sweet white wine), Pinotage and Tiara. Then it's time for lunch which we take at Louiesenhof, also situated in the Stellenbosch area. I cannot remember every whine we had, but do know that a Pinotage/Cabernet Sauvignon and a Merlot were among those. Our fourth and last stop is Laborie, where we have a 1996 Cap Classique (rosé) and a 2002 Sauvignon Blanc (!!!) along with a 2001 Chardonnay. All the rest we take with us for our sundowner. This takes place on Signal Hill back in Cape Town. From the top of this 350 metres high hill one can see astonishing views. But we are unlucky. Fog and clouds are the only things that hang around the top before we arrive. A cold breeze blows up from the Atlantic Ocean and shivering we stand and try to warm the inner side of ourselves. So the mood rises up sue to the gigantic quantities of wine and port that made their way onto the mountain. After all only nodding acquaintances are caused, because it's so cold and our guides rush.
Home again we decide to open the last tin of baked beans and play some table tennis before we say good bye to the day and hello to a big headache.

Saturday, 2002-09-28

Cape Town / Robben Island
Still Table mountain is surrounded by clouds. Katharina is anxious about the chance to get up there. But nevertheless we decide to stroll around the city again. From the Castle of Good Hope we walk over to District Six Museum. The sixth district of Cape Town had been a flourishing international and multicultural quarter until the Sixties of the last century. On the basis of the principles of Apartheid Cape Town City Government decided to change the face of this district, to make it a white sector. All residents had been classified anyway by descent and colour of their skin, often people of the same family had been put in different castes. In the following weeks and months all non-white people that lived in 6^th district were forced to move out. This was a multiple tragedy for the people and the community they formed.
This displacement alone would have been bad enough, but the whole quarter was levelled to the ground. Whole streets ceased to exist. And – what shows the ridiculousness of this operations – the quarter still is fallow land, no houses have been built since these days of sorrow and anger in this area. Solely the "Technikum", a college school has been erected. After the end of Apartheid there have been efforts to resettle a part of the former residents in the historical area. But in most cases, people have established their life in other places and are not very keen to give up their livelihood and simply return to non-existing streets and infrastructure. The District Six Museum contributes at a high level to these efforts of refurbishment of the events in the Sixties and the restructuring of the 6^th district.
After that instructional visit it is time to get something into our stomach – only a few moments later a chicken wrap is on his way down. This refreshment is necessary to survive bargaining on Greenmarket Square. After steady discussions about quality, origin and price I call a bongo drum including a handmade sheath my own, at a price of 600 Rand (approximately 60 Euros). After fixing the price we have to get some money from an ATM, but most self service centres are closed. Fortunately (?) there are a lot of friendly foreigners who offer to help us. Deranged we get away and find a more quiet atmosphere at another ATM. Picking up the drum and jogging back to the backpackers is one thing, than we hurry back to Central Station and take the bus to the waterfront. The ferry to Robben Island is packed with people who are in a bright mood, singing songs and preparing themselves in a very special way for the journey through the most feared prison in Apartheid era. Robben Island has fairly not seen so much joy for a long while. Especially the 18 years Nelson Mandela spent there must have been a hard time.
At first we are driven around the island to have a look at the houses where the convicts slept and at the open cast mines where they worked. The mine is the place where the political prisoners tried to communicate with each other to learn and teach how to resist against the Apartheid regime. And this is also the place where Mandela spoke to them as they returned to the island after the regime was brought down. Our guide and the bus driver too have been political prisoners here, among the general information they tell us their own stories. This is what makes the visit to Robben Island so special. It is not the watch towers and the barbwire fences. It’s the stories we are told. Even more impressive than the ride on the bus is the tour we afterwards take part in. Another ex-convict talks about life in the barracks, he speaks about the faults of the regime that enabled the prisoners to communicate and to learn. And he is telling us how he – this nearly seven feet high man – was tortured and maltreated by wardens of the regime. But he continued to fight. After the Apartheid was brought down, his biggest tormentor was given amnesty and now leads his life as a successful businessman. Every word is so moving that we almost forget the beautiful view on Table Mountain and Cape Town we saw only an hour ago. A glance at the cell Mandela lived in for 14 years terminates the tour.
Back at the Waterfront we use a cab back to our hostel. Our last South African dinner is fish for Katharina and a delicious Avocado pizza for me. As the night life of Cape Town is about to start we finish our cocktail in Long Street Café and stroll home.

Sunday, 2002-09-29

Table Mountain, Airport
The weather forecast has been right! Early in the morning there are only a few clouds around Table Mountain. A cab brings us to the lower cableway station. At 8.30 we start our ascent. At first we walk straight up, always beneath the cableway which is overcrowded in the morning as several coaches have spat out a hundred of tourists. As we reach the perpendicular wall of rocks after half an hour we move along this giant step south until we reach Plateklip Gorge, where a little path is endlessly winding up until the tableau is reached. On our way up we overtake people and are overtaken again by them when we pause. But there is a species of people we are only overtaken by. They run up Table Mountain and jump down again the little path as if there were now steep and sharp rocks and stones. I don’t know what makes them move up that quickly but it seems to be a very special sport of Cape Town. At eleven o’clock we stand on top of Table Mountain. Unfortunately we have to share the magnificent view with those who came up by cableway. And due to the flatness of the "table top"almost everyone can manage to walk around. What separates us from the others is just the gratification that we made the way up on our own. For the descent we choose the cableway – after all we have a plane to miss.
A minibus taxi takes us back to the backpacker where we order two giant pizzas. As they arrive we enjoy them and the lovely weather on the roof terrace. A bit of melancholy is in the blue sky.
As departure time gets closer our luggage is packed and we start with our host to the airport. The weight limit we worried about is no problem, but our bags are surveyed thoroughly. Nothing stays untouched whether Avocado nor dirty washings. At least I have to take my lighter into carry on baggage but everything else is okay. A shopping hour later we sit inside the Boeing 747-400 that brings us to London Heathrow.

Monday, 2002-09-30

London Heathrow – Hamburg
The plane is on the ground on schedule but it takes us another half of an hour to arrive at the gate. A bunch of jumbo jets has landed this morning. Actually we want to go downtown London, but as we recognise the price of the express train we decide against it. London would be only three hours of driving on the train, perhaps shopping a few stores and drinking British tea. All this we can have at Heathrow as well, even the train (from terminal four to terminal one). We use the time to read, I write my diary until our plane leaves in the afternoon to Hamburg. We get home as the September sun slowly sets over the Alster lake.