Trip 2015: Swaziland 11.7 - 19.7

Lesotho/Durban/Swaziland McBrock Family trip 2015 Part 3

11^th July – Saturday – Day 15 (Beatrice) . .continued

The journey was as hoped quite uneventful. Of course we had the normal row of “do we go left or right at the junction?!” The border was well managed and efficient. There were forms and everyone grabbed the pens and hurriedly filled them in. Yet there were only three pens so I had to wait my turn, which was in fact to my advantage, since it turned out that the passport system had been electrified and the forms were only there as a back-up.
Swiftly we were through, unlike Lesotho there weren’t hordes of people, actually here there were only two other cars in total. Our car was luckily not searched for meat or alcohol, which is prohibited to take over the border due to different VAT pricing. Just outside the border there was a small shopping centre, with a phenomenal amount of choice. So we stocked up our meat supplies and headed on. It was a simple and straight forward road, without potholes or breakdowns to Hlane Game reserve.

At the game reserve we were greeted by a very friendly receptionist. She explained to us that the lions are kept in a separate area, due to the closeness to other villages. Therefore the perimeter fence of the camp was little more than a few sticks tied together with wire. We chose our camp site and were pleasantly surprised by how many impalas and nyalas grazed fearlessly around the tents. Alex and I played some Frisbee and we all headed the short distance down to the water hole. The sunset was beautiful, but it seemed there was more wild life inside the camp than outside. We were slightly disappointed by only seeing one hippo.

We retrieved some complimentary fire wood, which turned out to be whole tree stems and banged, jumped and thrashed them into a slightly more reasonable size. We got the fire going and Alex brought out his Ukulele for a family sing along. Friends of ours were supposed to join us and we waited until the gates of the reserve had closed. Since they could not come this evening anymore we started a nice braai, with the addition of coleslaw salad over a fabulous star filled sky and eventually made our way to bed.

12^th July – Sunday – Day 17 (Chris)

When I switched on my cell phone in the morning I picked up Paul’s sms from 20h20 the previous night, saying that they would be delayed by one day. The ablution block at this camp is excellent: clean, good hot water with enough pressure. We had a leisurely breakfast: no rush packing, we would stay for a second night anyway. Then we went for a game drive (in our own car). The game park is very small: nothing is further than 10km. It must have been overstocked with elephants to a very high degree, so that the elephants, in desperation, started to strip the bark of the trees for food. That in turn killed the trees and most of the place looked like a post-apocalyptical scene – all grey in grey with dead trees. However we were lucky: first we saw 2 white rhinos, both decided to lie down for a snooze right in front of our eyes, cuddled up together very sweetly. Then just around the corner there were another 6 or 7 rhinos basking in the winter sun, totally unfazed by our presence.

Another observation: what looked like elephant poo was in kind of middens (concentrated places) till Cathy read up that this was indeed rhino poo.

Later, back in the camp, we sat on the veranda overlooking the waterhole, with one sole rhino resting. We had coffee and read our books or magazines, Cathy spent a long time solving a cross-word with Alex.

A helicopter was busying itself in the background the whole morning: we developed a theory that they were busy culling elephants in the part of the park we were not supposed to visit.

After lunch (we still had plenty of avocados from St Lucia) I got another sms from Paul that they were now at the Swaziland border from Maputo. Later we went for a game drive to another part of the park, which had not been devastated by elephants. At a bird hide-out we saw many of the ugly marabou storks, but also some other interesting water birds.

Just before we came back to the camp we met Liz on the road and greeted her.  They had arrived earlier, identified our camp and installed themselves right next to us. Liz had then gone for a game drive by herself. In the camp we immediately met Paul and Tumi and Liz joined us soon afterwards, a warm welcome mutually. We had last all met at Umtendwe some four and a half years ago – so we had much news to catch up on. We made an enormous fire and braaied, drank and chatted till quite late.

13^th July – Monday – Day 17 (Alex)

What a pleasure it is when you can wake up naturally, not by someone else, to sunshine and birds tweeting as they eat from the birdfeed a few feet from my tent. Then get out of the tent and see Impala running through the camp, and bright blue sky overhead. I quickly packed my tent and equipment, then set about having breakfast with my family, the usual fruit salad and an addition of a boiled egg that Liz had cooked. After both families had sorted everything: packed up, eaten, washed up, showered etc. we jumped into the cars and went for a little game drive through the park, we saw impala, nyala, giraffes & water buck, sadly no sighting of rhinos or elephants though. We followed Paul, Liz and Tumi and were quite puzzled when they decided to go around a loop for the second time and so got to see the same 4 giraffes again.

Then out of the park and with us in the lead made our way to our next camp: Lidwala Backpackers lodge, I’d like to say that it was an easy and straightforward drive, which in fact it could be if it weren’t for the fact that the driver has hearing problems and the navigator has trouble reading maps (to be fair it really wasn’t the best of maps) and so there was the odd detour and additional loop of the MR3 Motorway. Eventually (not after having a few rows) we reached the backpackers, this was after we had held up traffic and been exposed to the horns of a few hundred cars, taxis and minibuses. At arriving Paul told me that they had been taking bets as to if I was driving or not, the cheek!
The Backpackers is really nice, situated at the foot of a mountain and thus has a hiking trail leading up to Shiva’s breast (a hike I’m keen to do), it has Wi-Fi (although getting connected to it is quite a challenge) and is usually full of volunteers and youth to whom one can chat and exchange stories. We had the option to camp or stay in a dorm and as the dorm was cheap and camping involved schlepping tents miles (which my mother didn’t like) and after a lot of discussing we opted for a dorm (6 beds) and one camping site, as my father adamantly wanted to camp.
We then started settling in: some trying to connect to the Wi-Fi, others playing volleyball or playing on a guitar with a string missing (still sounded good though) or making themselves a cup of tea. A few hours later we decided to go to a nearby waterfall that Paul knew all too well as he had managed to break his neck when he had dived into the water and hit a rock accidentally, then had been given a pain reliever to which he had been allergic and so had the addition of those problems and then had to wait hours before he could be stretchered out, not something I’m too willing to try out.

We made our way to the Mantenga falls which is in the Mantenga Wildlife Reserve, paying the entrance fee and passing signs to a cultural village and warning about crocodiles. We reached the end of the car track then made our way on foot to the falls, we scampered along the rocks, some staying behind as it became more and more difficult, and to a rock wall next to the falls that Paul said was climbable. And climb it we (Paul, Tumi and I) did, it wasn’t the easiest climb and so I ended up helping Tumi and Paul up at certain places. After not too long we were all at the top of the falls and Paul showed us the exact rock he had jumped into, then the rock he had been propped up against before the stretcher came and then we followed him and he showed us the way he believed he had been stretchered out. Tumi and I were barefoot so luckily the only thing that impeded our progress was a few scattered pine needles on the ground. We walked through the forest until Paul didn’t know where to go and so we followed an animal track and arrived at a lookout point of the falls, then followed a hiking track back down. I’m quite glad we didn’t have to scramble down the rock cliff as I thought would have been very hairy.
Once at the bottom my mother could calm down again after having worried that she’d never see me again or something along those lines and so Beatrice and I went for a swim in the river, luckily not being eaten by the local crocodile, Tumi didn’t want to join in.
On the way home we stopped off at a Pick’n’Pay and bought food for dinner, then back to the backpackers and we started cooking, lying in hammocks and playing the guitar a bit more. We had a delicious meal of a stew my father cooked (using up my beer in the process) and then soon things wound down and we headed to bed.

14^th July – Tuesday – Day 18 (Cathy)

We woke up to rain, I heard the pitter-patter of drops in the night and hoped that it would be a temporary shower but as dawn broke it was clear that we were in a bank of low cloud that may well have set in for the day.  Six of us had shared a dorm type room at the backpackers and only Chris was camping on the lawn. I hoped the tent was waterproof. It was cold in the insidious way that damp cold can be and I got chilly standing on the stoop and watching the rather glum weather. I decided to have a shower to warm up and then went back to bed. Paul and Lizzie had risen at the crack of dawn but I decided to wait and read my book until the tardier Brock clan raised its combined head about an hour later.

At breakfast Tumi complained about the adults in the room snoring away out of time with each other and said that sharing a room with us was no fun. Tough luck laddie you have another shared night ahead of you! Breakfast was a bit haphazard but Lizzie does a great boiled egg and so according to our various tastes most of us combined boiled egg with our food.

We started to make plans for a wet day although Chris was adamant that this was not rain – just heavy dew! Alex wanted to hike today to execution rock, the place where in ancient times those who displeased the king were made to jump to their deaths, he was not at all pleased with the weather.

We eventually got into the cars, oriented ourselves and headed for Swazi Candles, a centre not only for candles but for many other crafts. I was amazed to see that the candles are hand-made throughout, no moulds are used to make them. The craftspeople start with a warm white wax core, a multi-coloured layer is then worked over the core and first a rough form is made, then the finished shape is pulled and teased out of the wax remarkably quickly and a hole is made for the wick which is inserted later. Most of the candles are modelled into animal shapes. We watched two chaps making a rhino and an elephant it was quite amazing. In the Yebo Gallery there was nothing very different from the kind of thing you see in Namibia but Baobab Batik sold real wax batik on fine cotton in lovely designs. The business is owned by an ‘old Dutch lady’ said two of the craftswomen the designs and the display of the products was really impressive. I bought a scarf for myself and to show my students. Then we went to a weavers’ shop selling mostly mohair weaves using yarn imported from Lesotho. The fabric was made into scarves, rugs and table runners and similar things and dyed into the kind of jewel colours we had seen in Lesotho. The designs were mostly simple Scandinavian type stripes. There was the same kind of ownership story as at the batik place. What happens when all of these benevolent business women grow too old to continue their businesses?  I wonder.  There was a bunch of school-kids also visiting the crafts places, a class visit, touring from Lesotho. They were lamenting the need for craft development back home. A couple were wearing blankets – of course I took their photos. There was quite a big shop called Gone Rural that represented groups making baskets. Most were dyed interesting colours some more successfully than others. I found that the pink was rather a problem. There was a lovely grassy smell in the shop. The last shop that we visited was called Amarasti, the owner Sue was also selling rural handicrafts, mostly appliqué and painted fabrics, shwe-shwe bags, table runners the usual fare but nicely done and with the same benevolent aim of helping rural women to make some money. I chatted to the assistant and told her that I was from Namibia, interested in textiles etc.

I caught up with family in the restaurant where Alex and Beatrice were sharing a plate of chocolate and banana spring rolls. Sue introduced herself to me, her shop assistant had mentioned me to her. We had a nice chat, she has interestingly a very similar history to mine right down to the Irish roots. She is selling to Art Africa in Namibia, it was quite informative to talk to her but the kids were starting to fret about me delaying everyone. I can contact her by email later. Apparently the Swazi king intends to require that in future he must approve all art and craft production. That’ll be hard to enforce – and the punishment for unapproved craftwork would be????

We moved on to House on Fire an amazing place, a bit like the Owl House in the Karoo but more self-conscious. Nonetheless we all really enjoyed the fairy-tale concrete and mosaic fantasies, a bit like something out of Lord of the Rings. The Art gallery showed some great woodcarvings. The carvers themselves were working nearby, one told me that he had been to a workshop in Johannesburg. The works were a collaborative effort between the carvers and once the story or sense of the art has been decided they set to work. Most work is carved and painted jacaranda wood but also soapstone. It would be good to get them to Namibia. I must pass on the names. Once a year they host the House on Fire music event, the Bush Fire Festival – up to 20,000 people crowd onto the lawn listening to invited bands.

Next we had quite a drive, past Mbabane, through the low cloud and out again then back into the cloud, past seemingly endless royal residences to Ngwenya which is nearly at the South African border. At Ngwenya Glass we watched people making glass sculptures and blowing glass drinking vessels into moulds – use 100% recycled glass, which earns the collectors some money. It was lovely and warm in the viewing gallery, probably rather hotter below.

Then we went to Ngwenya mine – named because the mountain that preceded the mine was shaped like a crocodile, of course the mountain is now a hole. We went up to the oldest mine in the world, made about 43,000 years ago by San people looking for good quality haematite to use for paint for their rock art and for body decoration. The mine was taken over by Bantu people thousands of years later who used the iron deposits to forge spear and arrow heads. Then centuries later commercial miners took over and made a huge opencast mine, destroying much of the ancient mine in the process which is really criminal. Apparently most of the production went to Japan to make motor cars, subsequently re-imported to Swaziland as Nissans and Toyotas.

We drove back to Lidwala Backpackers by way of the craft market nearby, Chris bought two large, carved wooden fish, he collects fish and has been looking for two like this. Alex and I bought some Swazi fabric and oops we forgot to go to the museum, maybe tomorrow or maybe next time we visit.

Paul was on to cook this evening, we were a bit worried, Paul’s cooking can be a bit of a hit or miss affair. He bought some mutton today instead of the goat that he wanted and some chicken gizzards and he intends to make curry. I hope someone hides the piri-piri.

  

15^th July – Wednesday – Day 19 (Beatrice)

We woke up and had breakfast in the deep mist. Slowly the sun was coming out and Alex glumly, for he could not momentarily be up a mountain, packed the car, while we schlepped all our belongings from the dorm. This took a while and Alex got very impatient with the whole process. Soon enough we were off for one last round of shopping in Pick and Pay, filling up the tanks and checking the tyre pressure. Then nothing could stop us driving to our last camping destination in the Malolotja Nature reserve.

We arrived late morning and as the only campers for the night, we had the option of any camp site. There was much debate as to where to put up camp, yet Mummy was so adamant that she got her way. In the end we set up our tents, not in the shade as is the Namibian way, but on a field next to a big concrete boma (circular open shelter with a fire place in the centre), while Paul, Lizzi and Tumi fled to the trees not far off. The fields were scattered with lovely blesbocks and, as my god-mother would say, the rocks were scattered with not so lovely dassies.

As a very special treat we of the younger generation were allowed to go on a canopy tour! Canopy tours were first invented in South America to experience the life above the tree tops, nowadays it has been commercialised and people can have a thrill whizzing on zip lines over gorges while admiring spectacular views.
We walked from camp to the main office and Alex and Tumi had to run back halfway to get the receipts we had forgotten. Once at reception we were herded to a separate room, where we kitted up and told all the safety measures. It is very safe, since one is attached to two different very stable and thick steel cables by three points.

First of all we had to get to the starting platform. A rugged 4x4 only road led us past loads of control burns. Control burns are very common, so that if a fire starts it would not send everything up in flames, yet we had never seen such wide and long control burns before. We walked down and in the accompaniment of two guides we were off.
The canopy tour was an assembly of 12 different platforms over a beautiful green gorge. The distances between platforms become longer, the further along you go, since you then learn how to control your speed better. The break is very simple; you glide in a sitting position and simply apply pressure to the main cable with a heavily padded glove. The guides were very friendly and we felt safe the entire time. The amusing part of having two guides was that they both though that they were the main spokesperson and kept repeating the exact same facts and antidotes, this did not seem to bother them though and so we heard everything twice.

It was all a lot of fun flying through amazing scenery, yet unfortunately it felt like it was over so fast even though it had been two and a half hours in total. At the last view point we were given water and a small sweet. Suddenly we heard a load sort of bark, which disconcerted every one apart from Tumi, who calmly reassured us that it is the calling sound his father makes.

The parents had in the meantime tried to go on a walk to a specific view point, yet had taken a wrong turning and managed to end up at the pick-up point. They greeted us warmly and we spotted Mummy making her way back to the car. We gave her a lift to the combi and continued to the main office to receive our complimentary sandwich and take off all our equipment.

We three made our way on a little walk, which turned into rock climbing. Alex and Tumi had seen a dassie on a large boulder and put it into their head that they have to get to that point. I tagged along and slowly realised that more jumping and clutching was involved to reach the absolute top. I decided to favour my bones and joints and stay on a nice boulder while watching the other two gallivanting.

 Tumi and Alex started doing push-ups and sit-ups competitions and so I left the testosterone to thrive and went on a little stroll and headed back to camp. 

The moment the sun dropped it got quite cold, but we made a lovely fire in our concrete and stone enclave and thanked our lucky stars that there was no wind. Alex took charge of the braai and we enjoyed a mix up of meats and vegetables accompanied with good conversation under a clear starry sky.

16^th July – Thursday – Day 20 (Chris)

We got up nice and late. It was wind-still and not a cloud in the sky.  Showers were lovely and hot too. We had a leisurely breakfast in the wonderfully warm sun. Then we drove to the place where we had originally intended to go to the previous day. This road was also in a better condition than the previous day’s. From the viewpoint, where the cars could park (Logwaja), we started walking on the footpath far down from where we would have to climb up across a saddle to get to the promised view on the Malolotja waterfalls. We were not allowed to go the direct way to the falls because some rare birds were breeding there. Alex and Tumi rushed ahead and Beatrice was alone in the middle. When we reached the place after a long walk we realised that Beatrice was missing. But the lads were sent up the nearest peak and soon found her to the relief of Beatrice and Cathy.

Beautiful views all round. Due to the smoke of some veld fires there was a blue hue, getting fainter with each successive mountain range. Like a cliché painting, but real.

Alex and Tumi wanted to make a full day’s hike of it and would get back to the camp by themselves before dark. The rest of us paced ourselves back up to the car park at our respective speeds and enjoyed the majestic view from the conveniently placed wooden bench. Later we drove back to the camp via the Environmental Education Centre, but we found it to be amongst wattle and eucalyptus trees and not near indigenous forest (which we had hoped for). Furthermore we found the place somewhat dilapidated, with staff living in the centre evidently living off ‘illegally’ selling firewood.

By mid-afternoon we were back at the camp and were reading, preparing dinner etc.
Towards sunset it got windier and windier, and gusty: not terribly cold, but the chill factor being quite ferocious. Boiling the kettle for tea became impossible until we put all kind of wind barriers around the gas cooker.  Soon the lads, Alex and Tumi arrived back at the camp: they had a thorough workout that day and were happy with it. Once we lit the fire in our ‘boma’ we realized that we had to close of one of the 3 openings. Paul and the lads did a sterling job with the help of a tarpaulin, a pole and big rocks. However, while the fire warmed us up nicely (and produced the embers for the braai later), the smoke bit into our eyes and smoked our clothing convincingly.

Thus we had a relaxing pleasant,  if draughty evening and went to bed quite early as we had agreed to be on the road (to Jo’burg) by 08h00 the following morning. Strong gusts of wind violently and intermittently shook our tents all night and I swear that, if we had not anchored the tents by sleeping in them, we would have found them 1 km away in the morning.

17^th July – Friday – Day 21 (Alex)

It had been really really, really windy during the night, so not many happy faces appeared from the tents in the morning. Poor Beatrice had pitched in a very windy spot and so had had the roof of her tent blown down into her face all night and having the whole tent nearly take off with her in it, or so she says. I however had positioned myself right behind the “boma” so had a far better sleep than most, although still not brilliant.

We didn’t stop and have breakfast all of us had had enough wind and were keen to head to Johannesburg to Paul and Liz’s house. Packing turned out to be a real mission, with the tents wanting to become kites and Paul’s chair cover having made an escape during the night, later it was found by a camp worker about 700m from camp tangled in a bush. The blooming fish my father bought were always in the way and with the addition of the small hurricane made packing the car even more difficult, but soon enough we were all packed, we jumped into the cars and were off.
Paul took the lead as he was he had a far greater understanding of the South African roads that we would soon be using, which ones to avoid due to mine trucks etc.
In no time we were at the border and were saying our goodbyes to Swaziland and hallo to South Africa once again. At the border the wind was still pumping and very chilly, so we didn’t hang around for long. A few kilometres inland we had cell reception again and so all our phones started bleeping and vibrating like crazy. We passed lakes that seemed to be steaming this was due to the wind and the chill causing the air’s moisture to condense, it looked very mystical and magical.
A couple of hundred kilometres onward we stopped off at a small café in a tiny village to have some breakfast, very welcoming and friendly staff and the décor was very Afrikaans and had tin cups and biscuit tins lining the ceiling and walls. A round of hot chocolate and coffee was the order accompanied with full farmhouse fry-ups and a couple of toasted sandwiches for Beatrice and me. That warmed us up quite a bit and what made it even more memorable was the owner who had been born in Namibia and was now very deaf and forgetful.
Now properly back on SA roads Paul was in his element weaving and out of traffic and making crazy overtakes (our opinion), much to our annoyance as we had difficulty keeping close enough to him to see him. Soon we were on a road Paul had warned us about, as they were full of mine lorries, luckily most were oncoming, 56 of them is what my mother counted. The closer we got to Johannesburg the more traffic joined us and the bigger the roads got until we hit a stretch with about 5 Tollgates all about 50km apart, we hadn’t ever encountered so many so this seemed crazy.
Once in Johannesburg we joined the complicated highway systems that only Pretoria and Jo’burg have, if you don’t know the way you’ll get lost, here it took all of us to keep an eye on Paul who seemed to have made overtaking a sport.
Luckily we didn’t lose them and so safely made it to Paul and Liz’s house, where we received a warm welcome from both dogs and Sam, who was wearing a pirate hat he had won a couple nights prior during a pub quiz.

We unpacked and made ourselves comfy, lounging in one of the many hammocks in the garden or reading on the couches or in Tumi’s case running to the computer the moment he touched down.
In the evening we took everyone to dinner at a local Chinese restaurant, that didn’t sell alcohol, but was positioned right next to a bottle store and had no problem with bringing in booze. We had a delicious meal and my father raved on about it for ages after, even though they had run out of spring roll pastry and jellyfish much to our dismay.
Once back at their house we chatted for a bit then made our way to bed to try and catch up on the missing sleep of the previous night. As I lay down I felt comfy and ready to sleep, little did I know what the night would still bring me. . . .

18^th July – Saturday – Day 22 (Cathy)

Nearly the end of the holiday – sad – we’ve had such a great time. Today Alex was to leave for Cape Town. Poor lad was ill in the night and so we left him to sleep while Chris, Beatrice and I went to a local market with Liz. It sold mostly home grown or home cooked foods, fresh vegetables, cheeses and things of that ilk. One stall sold home roasted and blended coffees and Liz brought us each a cup. Another stall was run by a German couple and sold the kinds of meats and pâtés that we can find in Windhoek. We had an interesting time talking to the stallholders and sampling their wares while Liz stocked up on vegetables for the week. On the way home we stopped at a little butchery that was just how butchers’ shops used to be in the old days – how nice that some have survived. Chris bought chickens for this evening. Everyone (apart from a vegetarian) will surely eat roast chicken!

When we got back Alex had recovered sufficiently to be playing on the computer with Tumi.

The plan for the evening was to hold a dinner party for Teresa a friend of ours from the time we lived in Zimbabwe but we were having problems reaching her despite numerous messages. Liz too had other plans but at least we had Paul and his neighbours Dom and Naomi so the dinner could happily go ahead. We planned just to cook enough ‘in case’.

We worked out how to find the bus station later on with much discussion and map consultation and decided rather than hang around the house we would visit the botanical gardens for a walk. Beatrice was our map reader and did a splendid job apart from the odd right/left confusion. It wasn’t quite the ‘blind leading the blind’ but both she and her father have difficulties with right and left so it made for an interesting drive.

The botanical gardens, when we finally found them, were rather less about specimen plants and rather more about recreation than the gardens in Durban but they were clearly very popular, full of people enjoying the winter sunshine. We had a pleasant walk, watching families enjoying the day. Today was Eid and so many people were dressed up in their best for the day.

We stopped at the café in the gardens for some tea (me) and other refreshments and a giant scone that we shared between us since it was beyond the capacity of the average person. Beatrice won the cream versus ice-cream battle with Alex. We were worried that Alex should be on time for his bus since our experience from Windhoek is that the buses to Cape Town are usually on time. Little did we know!

We negotiated the traffic which got denser and denser as we approached the bus station. By the time we were nearly there the traffic was crawling and had buses liberally mixed into it. Parking was a bit of a challenge but we were helped into our space by a really nice parking guy who saw our Basotho blankets and announced that he and one of his colleagues were from Maseru. They were delighted when Beatrice and Alex greeted them with ‘Dumela’.

Alex, laden with rucksacks front and back forged through the crowd with the rest of us following in his wake. We found the place where the bus would leave but although it was checking in time the gate was closed. The nearby queue was for Harare for a bus that was overdue – bad omen. There was not much for us to do except stand around like spare parts when we could have been cooking, so hoping that the bus would not leave too late we left Alex to wait and went back to Paul and Liz’s house. In the course of the afternoon we received the following messages from Alex;

Gate hasn’t opened yet (5.20)

Gate still closed but loads of people in the same predicament (5.52)

Finally on the bus (6.51 – an hour late)

Actually moving so only 2 hours late (7.32)

Poor chap!

We cooked dinner, laid the table, and waited……………. Then lo and behold a message from Teresa! Splendid! Now our dinner party was complete and a little later than planned we served the salad and the conversation flowed. The wine flowed too – perhaps a little too much, but it was so great to see Teresa and to find that her partner Maurice was known to both Paul and Dom and so nobody in the gathering felt out of place, it was a lovely evening only marred somewhat by knowing that we would have to get up at 3.15 to be able to hit the road at 4 – aargh!

19^th July – Sunday – Day 23 (Beatrice)

We were up before the crack of dawn. After finding the keys to the door, we packed and were off punctually at the ungodly hour of 4 am.

Daddy got us out of Jo’burg and we were glad that we only had to battle our way through the signs without the accompaniment of heavy traffic.
When we reached the first toll gate dread swept over us- there seemed to be no one there to pay and open the barrier! We were starting to worry, if we would have to wait until 6 or so, so that the toll point would open, when a different car pulled up to the nearest booth and rapped at the window. The girl jumped up from her sleep and assisted us through.
Mummy took over from there on and graciously took the first shift, while we, ungraciously, slept.

I fed Mummy some food, while she was driving and we were slightly confused that due to the time difference from Namibia the sun only started rising close to 7am! Soon enough we arrived at the Botswana border. We paid our road fee, which Botswana uses to maintain their roads, since a lot of people drive through Botswana and do not stay and invest in the country’s tourism market.

The border was fast and efficient with one particularly nice man, who kept getting our car plate number wrong as a tease. Generally all the people were very friendly and when Mummy announced out of habit that we were four people in the car, the officer just laughed and said that we weren’t to count him, too.

Laughing, yet slightly pink in the face Mummy kept driving. Here we stumbled quite rapidly into a problem. There were no signs. Instinctively we turned left at the T junction. We drove and drove, and finally stumbled upon a lone sign to Gaberone. On the un-detailed map we had, it was clear, we did not want to go to yet another border post further south, so we turned around and headed back. Confused and slightly aimlessly we drove through town, keeping our eyes peeled for any sign at all. We decided to pull to the side and ask a few people next to the road.
The fantastic part about Botswana is that the education system is good and therefore the level of English spoken is exemplary. They explained that we had to turn back to the original left and keep driving, past the odd lone sign to Gaberone, over a hill and eventually we will find a massive traffic circle that would be well signed. So that is what we did.

And lo and behold they were right, after passing a group of now confused looking hitch hikers for the third time we eventually did find our way.
Mummy gave up her post after 5 hours driving and then it was my turn. The drive was simple enough, not too much traffic and the fantastic powers of cruise control helped enormously. The one problem with Botswana is that they have an odd rule. In every other southern African country, if one hits a farm animal, the farmer is at fault for not looking after their animals properly. Therefore it’s seldom not to see fences along highways. This is not the case in Botswana. Here animals roam free and once hit, the farmer receives a large sum from the driver, since it is the drivers’ fault for not being vigilant enough. Therefore there are no fences and no shepherds to be seen anywhere. This makes driving a little more frantic, when one has to slam the breaks on for a cow who decides to change direction mid way across the road. I was not used to such driving and was lucky that Daddy helped spot the stray animals in time. As I mentioned the road was most definitely not overrun, yet when there were vehicles, they came in clusters. Causing me to learn how to overtake three lorries at once on several occasions. At the border post to Namibia I handed over the car keys to Daddy, who did the last leg of the journey, while I slept in the back, quite exhausted after my 6h straight drive.

The rest of the journey was uneventful- I was told- and we arrived in Windhoek when the sun had just set. Yet there is no rest for the wicked and we headed straight to my godmother’s birthday party.

Trip 2015: KZN coast 5.7 - 11.7

Lesotho/Durban/Swaziland McBrock Family trip 2015 Part 2

5^th July – Sunday – Day 9 (Alex)

When one is camping there is nothing better than to wake up, have the sun shining onto the tent illuminating the interior and listening to the bustle outside be it my family stirring or the birds chirping, this morning was not quite like that . . . it started with a big drop of water splashing down onto my face, with a rush I shot up thinking it was rain and that I needed to go out and put some form of cover onto my tent, it turned out however that it was the morning dew that had collected on my tent and accumulated exactly over my head, if this is to happen again on my trip I’ll have to think of a counter measure. But for this morning it was OK as I could hang my sleeping bag out to dry in the morning sun, it was however 2°C, so quite bracing in shorts and flip-flops.
We then had breakfast, Beatrice and I having the remainder of the yoghurt from last night’s dessert, along with fresh fruit and the ritual tea. In a swift and organised motion, as we are well practiced in, we had done the washing up, done our ablutions, the car packed, paid and were on the road heading to our  location for the next 3 days: Durban.

The drive to Durban from Underberg is very pleasant, driving along with huge pine plantations bordering the road. The roads are winding and go up and down, so we couldn’t go very fast, we weren’t in a rush though so it didn’t matter. Some of the valleys were filled with a thick smoke from presumably a big fire nearby but unseen by us, burnt areas are to be seen all over in this region at the moment, to which I of course took great interest, being a volunteer wildfire fighter in Cape Town. It is also interesting to see the patchwork of communal areas scattered around. The closer we got to Durban the more the thermometer rose and soon it was time to strip from our jumpers and jackets and be satisfied to be able to be down to 1 layer.
We were able to bypass the tollgates on the N3 easily by taking a detour, which my cell phone had pointed out to us early enough and with its help found the place we were going to stay for the next few days, the thermometer read 28°C!
We were staying at an old acquaintance of my father’s: Graham Halse with children Carl (27) and Alyssa (22), who invited us in warmly, settled us in nicely and offered us to join his braai this afternoon/evening starting at 15h00, which we accepted gladly. We had arrived early and so had a few hours before the braai and as it was a wonderful day we siezed the chance and with the help of the GPS went to the beach.
The beach was absolutely packed and so we had to drive around for quite some time to find a parking space, in doing so we got to see everything from North Beach to South Beach. There are loads of street vendors with things we had no idea we needed, restaurants of all kinds and really high rise buildings which are mostly hotels. We finally found a parking space, it was a super tight fit and so I ended up having to climb out the driver’s door to get out. Once assembled outside we made our way to the beach promenade and saw rickshaws in every colour possible and decorated from top to bottom. A jetty drew our attention and so we walked onto this, viewing people swimming and surfing beneath, at the end of the jetty there were people jumping in despite a sign forbidding it and so I didn’t need to be asked and jumped the 4m dive asap. Graham had told us that there hadn’t been a shark attack in 50 years so I swam with ease, this was compiled with the fact that the water was heavenly warm and with decent enough waves to body surf (of course nothing quite like the Namibian coast). To my surprise I discovered even my mother had ventured in to the ocean, which truly is a rare sight. Beatrice and I spent a few hours swimming, while my parents swapped occasionally.
Many hours later we emerged from the water, showered off the salt, dried and then went for a further walk along the promenade. There were amazing sand-sculptures in various forms from rhinos to cars and the Durban stadium, I was really tempted to ask one of the rickshaw guys if I could have a go pulling them.

Back to Graham’s house we went, when we arrived we discovered that his wife Brenda had also returned together with her daughter Natasha and son-in-law Sean and their two boys. We greeted them warmly and soon were sitting on the balcony with a stunning view and a beer or wineglass in our hand, which never seemed to empty as Graham or Kyle constantly topped them up. Delicious snacks preceded an awesome braai, with superb meat, mouth-watering baked potatoes, crisp salad and so much more, stimulated with good company and lively conversation we had a great afternoon and evening. Later the four younger people (Kyle, Alyssa, Beatrice and me) went out to a bar called “Murphey’s” and exchanged interesting stories, joked around and had a few drinks.
When we got back dessert was just being served, perfect timing if you ask me, it was a delicious Pavlova with cream and custard.
After a long day Beatrice and I were knackered and so headed to bed not too late, she had to sleep on a mattress on the floor as she had lost at rock/paper/scissors and so I redeemed myself for the other night.

6^th July – Monday – Day 10 (Cathy)

The day before Chris’ birthday dawns overcast but dry. Cooler than yesterday due to the lack of sun but compared to Lesotho positively balmy.

We had breakfast with the family, Natasha and Sean were off to take the boys on one last surfing trip before heading home to Johannesburg. Our first stop was the Musgrave Shopping Mall to hunt for a watch for Alex. This time we were successful, a shop called Watches Unlimited lived up to its name and produced the right watch. Alex will not be diving with it however. He has learned that ‘water resistant 50 meters’ is not to be taken literally. We even found jeans for Beatrice, women’s jeans seem to be such poor quality at the moment. We had a bit of a browse round the shops but everything was very similar to Windhoek so we didn’t linger.

Our next stop was very different and not remotely similar to Windhoek; Victoria market, otherwise known as the Indian market. A bustling, noisy, somewhat confusing warren of a place. Parking the car was the first challenge, the underground carpark was quite disorganised, dark and very low ceilinged. Cars were loosely parked according to the demarcations but not everyone saw the point in that. After a fair amount of reversing and manoeuvring we found a parking place, hoping when we left the car that we would be able to get it out again later. Upstairs the market was just like India. There were lots of small shops brimming with trinkets and spices galore. We were beckoned to sample lots of different spice mixes, many of the hotter mixes had allusions to mothers-in-law in their titles, possibly indicative of prevailing relations in Indian homes or the perception of the vendors about prevailing relations in non-Indian homes. Over a bridge we came to a market for traditional Zulu medicines – some were a bit alarming such as dried monkey but most were dried roots, leaves or bark. The titles were all in Zulu so we could not compare with the titles of the spices but who knows some of the more extreme remedies may also have referred to mothers-in-law. There was a serious range of smells at this market ranging from the seductive aromas of incense through to the heavy spicy smells and the smells emanating from the places where people felt the need to relieve themselves in the absence of public lavatories. The market is right next to what seems to be two cemeteries attached to a mosque and a church, an interesting juxtaposition of commerce and religion. We buy some tasty spice from a very persuasive vendor and happily manage to negotiate the car park without mishap.

Chris wants to go on a boat ride on his birthday so our next port of call was the yacht club to identify the boat trip companies. It was pretty deserted at the yacht club but a helpful chap in a charter office directed us to Wilson’s Warf a little further along and here it was humming. There were a couple of tour operators offering rides and we checked out times for trips for tomorrow. Once that was sorted out we explored a bit more. There were more trinket vendors selling more stuff that we didn’t need and since it was nearly lunchtime and there were several food shops we decided that it was time to have bunny chow for lunch. The kids were only partly charmed by bunny chow. For Beatrice it was much too hot and for Alex he didn’t much enjoy the soggy bread. So an experience to be had but not to be repeated particularly soon.

After lunch we decided to visit the football stadium. Built for the World Cup in 2012 and unlike some of the other stadia, in continued use. One can travel to the top of the structure in a cable car or walk to the top via a staircase that follows the line of the arch over the arena. Sadly the cable car was not working and to use the stairway one had to have closed shoes which none of us had. Anyway for me with my dodgy ankle (trip over dog on stairs in Lesotho) the stairway was a no go. Maybe tomorrow. We consoled ourselves at a nearby café with chai latte and ‘Brazilian hazelnut steamer’.

Rain looked imminent but was holding off and so we decided to visit the botanical gardens, apparently the oldest in South Africa although not the largest. I was expecting some banyan trees and was not disappointed, with its climate and the size of its Indian population the least Durban could do would be to run to a few banyan trees. Otherwise there were plenty of palm varieties, a pretty sunken garden and a variety of other towering old trees that were not banyans.  There were also lots of birds, bald ibises, the ubiquitous hadedas and a tree near the lake that was so full of egrets that it looked as if it was in flower with heavy white blossoms. It was only the occasional flap of wings that gave the birds away. Some birds imitate flowers more successfully than others and there were a few pelicans trying to roost on the branches with much less success. We are not used to the sight of pelicans trying to land on bendy branches and Alex gave a running commentary on their attempts, it was amusing, for us, probably not for the pelicans who were not meeting with much luck. There was a semi derelict structure called ‘the living beehive’ which had optimistically been built as a COP 17 legacy project. Unfortunately it required maintenance which clearly didn’t happen so although the underlying structure was still there all of the plants which had been intended to celebrate Durban’s local biodiversity and introduce new garden technology were not. Sad indictment really.

As we walked out of the gardens the rain came down with energy but Alex was determined to get a swim in before the end of the day. We drove down to the sea front only for Alex to discover that he had forgotten his swimming stuff. We had another consoling cup of coffee and went back to Graham and Brenda’s house for a rest. My foot really needed some time off the ground.

A house alarm was making a din nearby, seemingly for ages. Nobody seemed to do anything about it and occasionally it seemed to give up in exhaustion only to resume with renewed enthusiasm a couple of minutes later, so not much rest then.

We took Graham and Brenda out to dinner at a restaurant that they knew called Neo Café. It had Portuguese style cuisine, wonderful prawns and other seafood. Delicious! Graham and Beatrice assured us that the steak and kingklip were just as good.

A very nice day, not as sunny as it could have been but we enjoyed ourselves a lot.

7^th July – Tuesday – Day 11 (Beatrice)

Today is Daddy’s Birthday and we planned the day as he wished, even if the weather was not quite on our side. So after we presented the well-travelled gifts to him and he had his fun tinkering around with his new flashlight, we set off to have breakfast at Afro Chicken.

On our way there we gave our dirty clothing to a launderette off north beach, which was simultaneously a café and kiosk its name was quite imaginative “North beach Café and Takeaway (+Laundry)”. None the less they were very friendly, did a separate white wash and also offered ironing. Yet they did warn us not to be in a hurry. On that note we were off to a late breakfast.

Afro Chicken is a yellow container, with a nice wooden seating area set by the sea on South Beach. It does not have an extravagant menu, yet what is produces is of a great quality to a very good price! The atmosphere is incredibly relaxed as surfers or businessmen pop in for an egg and bacon roll or a quick coffee on the run.

Quite unlike me, who has a well-known sweet tooth, I ordered lemon chicken strips- rather fabulous actually! It was drizzling, but we were sheltered quite well from the most of it. All the time we kept seeing groups of children pass by in what was quite obviously school uniform, yet we could not make heads or tails of this since it was allegedly school holiday as well as mid-morning.

We took a quick detour to a pharmacy (of which there are many to choose from) to get an ankle brace for Mummy, jumped –or hobbled- back to the car and left for the harbour.
We walked into the building and asked the first cruise line what time they were leaving. Here the problem hit us; the question that would have been more to the point would have been: IF the boat’s cruise was going. Quite understandable, due to the bad weather conditions. Every boat has to have a minimum amount of passengers to go out of the harbour. We left Alex’ number at Sarie Marais boat’s cruise, since a minimum of 20 passengers seemed more obtainable than 25.

While we waited in anticipation, we had a coffee in a nearby café and enjoyed some of Alex’ Wi-Fi.

The call came and it was certain that we would have Daddy’s birthday wish! Both cruise lines teamed up to fill one boat. After some more waiting, we got onto the boat and were able to sit on the bow.

The tour was lovely! A guide took pictures of us as a family and gave us a fantastic detailed tour on the 6^th biggest harbour in the world and 1^st biggest in Africa.
Alex and I stood right in front, while we left the harbour into the ocean. We enjoyed the waves, while getting quite wet. My jeans were two toned and we had salt in our hair. Mummy and Daddy were sitting a safer distance away, with small children cowering behind them for protection. Two women, standing in front on the port side, were soaked to the bone, yet did not want to move to our side for some odd reason. It is rather awful yet I had to fight with myself not to burst out laughing, every time a wave thrashed against their already dripping bodies.

It was a very lovely hour long cruise. None the less we did not have time to relax let alone dry off completely and onwards we went to the Stadium.

Once there we found out that the SkyCar was still out of order, which was very unfortunate, due to Mummy’s swollen ankle. Daddy opted that Alex and I should do the Adventure walk, while he stays with Mummy at yet another café. Alex was lucky enough that daddy had brought a pair of closed shoes and which Alex could borrow, since closed shoes are necessary for the outing.

Alex and I were rather excited and joined a group of three others. We were harnessed up and took a little golf vehicle to the starting point. The stadium is a phenomenal feat of architecture and engineering! With its swooping arches and colourful interior it is quite a masterpiece. On one of these swooping arches there were stairs. 500 steps to be exact. We were attached to the railing and had to trail a rope next to us. Up was just physically tiring, but the view was most definitely worth it! The heart of Durban displayed at your feet it quite awe inspiring! I advise to go up on a cooler day, since the exercise does leave you slightly warm. Down was the challenging part. I am not scared of heights but my eyes did go slightly funny, when we came to the very steep descent. If you do not feel like walking down, you could just take the Guinness World Record’s highest swing. I personally see this as suicidal, but Alex would have been very keen, if it had not been for the extra costs.

We walked back to Mummy and Daddy and enjoyed our last chai latte at Nino’s. Suddenly we heard three loud booming noises. Everyone rushed out to have a better look (not the logical reaction of course), yet the street was covered in smoke and nothing could be seen. The security guard did not look shaken as he informed us, that the military was checking their canons. Slowly we made our way back home to rest up a bit before our next excursion.

About 2 hours later we were once again off, this time with Alex behind the wheel and me as the navigator. We picked up our freshly washed and dried clothing, by chucking the parents out and collecting them up again after turning around.

Alex drove us very well to “Vintage India”, a fantastic little Indian restaurant off Florida road. The service was excellent and we had a fabulous relaxed evening.
We started off with a complimentary meat platter, rotis and different sauces. Unfortunately the sauces were too hot for me, (or I too weak for the sauces), nevertheless the other three enjoyed it very much! I sipped my lassie, a yogurt based drink and studied the well organised menu. The menu not only offers a roster on which meat one would like to have with the curry, but also advises on how hot the meal is. We ordered a variety of dishes with naan and rice and tucked in! I tasted all of them, most blew me into orbit- but I really enjoyed the Korma and Butter-chicken. The others had nothing but praise for the other dishes and the restaurant had quite a few Indian customers, which must be a good thing.

When they figured out, that it was Daddy’s birthday, they presented us with Kulfi ice cream with a birthday candle. We ended the evening by all singing to Daddy. Last stop to Graham and Brenda and we all fell asleep in a trice. 

8^th July – Wednesday – Day 12 (Chris)

This was the morning we had to leave for St Lucia. We got up around 08h00 and by 09h15 the car we fully packed up. A final grateful embrace to dear Brenda and we were on the road. It is a sunny day again. First stop: shopping mall at Umhlanga Rocks. The navigational system was not perfect (no specific blame attached to anyone (others didn’t want to listen to instructions –Alex)) and after a few heated attempts we made it. Indeed this was a massive shopping mall, where we managed to get everything we had set out to get: first Alex cell phone battery, Cathy’s new sandals. Then we left Cathy at her nirvana: Exclusive Books, where she could also stock up for her book club and nurse her still painfully sprained ankle. In the meantime Beatrice advised me on an additional birthday present from the Body Shop for Cathy’s birthday the following day. Then Alex, Beatrice and me did a big shopping at Spar. Soon we were on the road again (after a bit of trial and error) on the big faultless motor way towards the north east. Toll road … we had to pay 3 times: R9; R11 and R37. A hearty brunch in the car while driving. At first the mainly the mono-culture of sugar cane changing gradually for blue gum forests.

Shortly after lunchtime we turned off at Mtubatuba for the final 35km to St Lucia. Here and there patches of virgin sub-tropical forest, complete with the ubiquitous vervet monkeys. In St Lucia we first drove down to the beach where Alex tried to swim, but the sea was rough and full of rip currents, so he did not get much out of that experience.

We found St Lucia well-stocked with street vendors doing pine apples, bananas, passion fruit and avos for a song. Also a medium size Spar, but still only ice cubes and no ice blocks. We finally found the restaurant that Graham had recommended to celebrate Cathy’s birthday the following day and had a drink there overlooking the thin end of the estuary (the estuary had last been open to the sea in 2006). Just a little bit further we found our camping site (Sugar Loaf) which is huge and was quite full, but there were enough empty sites to choose from, not too far from an ablution block. Soon we had found out that “there was a problem with the water system” and there were 5 litre plastic containers to refill the toilet cisterns. We were further told that this problem might persist for another 3 weeks … wonderful prospects for the next 3 days. By chance we found out later that night that the tap by our campsite had water, probably together with the whole camp. Certainly the toilet cisterns were refilling automatically later that night.

We had a meal of prawns and hake (Beatrice is not keen on prawns & avos) with cabbage salad and separate avo salad.

The ambient temperature around a modest 16 degrees with heavy dew during the night.

9^th July – Thursday – Day 13 (Alex)

Another morning another day, this one however is a very special one as it’s my mother’s Birthday! We woke up quite early, to bird song and sun shine, my tent only slightly damp from the night’s humidity, proof that my cover had worked. While my mother was having a bracing shower (her words), we made a fruit salad and my father made a fry-up all very delicious.

Then my mother returned to a laid and full table and of course her presents, a Basotho blanket from Beatrice and I and from my dad the other Basotho blanket, a head torch which my mother said was far too complicated and some products from the body shop (my father had bought a scented something that my mother found amusing as he didn’t like the smell and had purely bought it under Beatrice’s advice.
As it was a great day, we decided to head to Cape Vidal which is north from St.Lucia, on way we stopped at the park’s reception to get a car disk for the camp site and then also booked a boat cruise on the Mpate River for 15h00 this afternoon as it was after all a special day (with a camper’s discount and a pensioner’s discount which made it super cheap).
We drive into the park (Isimangaliso) for which we had to pay about R220 for all of us and the car. We’d been complaining about not having seen any animals yet and were excited to see a zebra not too far off, a while later a warthog, then more zebra, then even more zebra at every turn and nearly every animal we made out was a zebra. We came to a sign saying lookout point and so climbed a few very well made stairs and arrived at the lookout it had an awesome view and with the binoculars in hand had a debate whether the dark shapes in the lake were elephants or reeds?

They were most likely reeds, but don’t let my mother know she was right. Further along we encountered 3 white rhinos quite close to the road and completely peaceful why anyone would want to kill these wonderful animals is a mystery to me. Nearly at Cape Vidal saw a red duiker which one can only find in this part of the world and soon after we had arrived. There were loads of vervet-monkeys and even saw what we reckon to be a samango monkey or a giant vervet. The beach was absolutely teaming with people from GP (like our camp), so Afrikaans was to be heard everywhere, again beware of sharks and currents signs were scattered around. That doesn’t stop us though and after a bit of Frisbee  into the water we went, we had a good swim (could even do some body surfing, well 10m or so), clearly some were just being introduced to the ocean as they were very unsure of waves and others were learning how to use a boogie-board.
Back into car out of the park (about 32km) and on to the craft centre where the boat was to launch, as we had some time to kill so we had a quick late lunch and admired a mosaic of a map the area on the floor of the centre.

Then at 15h05, all aboard the Santa Lucia, then off we were. We decided to sit at the , behind a family with two little sons that reminded my mother of Beatrice and myself at that age (a bit of fighting was of course involved in that case), we bought a few drinks from the cash bar and enjoyed the cruise. Hippo soup is what I’d call the river as we counted about 116 of them, also waterbuck, 4 crocodiles, numerous goliath herons and egrets, on and on I can go, it was absolutely teaming with wildlife. The cruise was accompanied by a lovely sunset and a lively and great guide pointing out all the various things to see, this truly was a holiday. It got a bit chilly on the way back so take a jumper or jacket!

We decided to go back to the camp afterwards briefly to adjust and improve my tent cover as rain was predicted for the night and so Beatrice’s tent joined mine.
At about 6.30pm we walked to the ski boat club and were surprised to find it quite full and so the best tables (on the veranda) were taken, we decided to sit inside, order drinks and some starters and wait and hope that a table would clear. Just as the drinks were being served my father spotted people leaving and Beatrice raced and grabbed the table, the evening progressed really nicely. Our parents ordered a Kg of medium prawns which definitely kept them busy, we even had space for dessert (malva pudding definitely is a goodn), I can definitely recommend the “Ski Boat Club” if you’re hungry and don’t feel like cooking, good food, cold beer and nice waiters. As the evening drew to an end we made our way back to our camp, luckily/sadly not encountering any hippos. We quickly dispersed into our tents and thus ended a lovely day and hopefully a Birthday my mother will remember.
Luckily no rain that night!

10^th July – Friday – Day 14 (Cathy)

I awoke to some sad news, an old acquaintance, a long standing doyenne of choir singing in Namibia has died. It’s not such a surprise since she was no longer a spring chicken but still very sad. The choral singers of Windhoek are planning a special tribute to her. Neither Chris nor I will make it. A pity.

Last night we had no rain, although it was forecast – thank goodness! We wake to a brilliant sunny day and so we can think about beaches and sea rather than moping around in cafes having yet another cup of unsatisfactory coffee. We start to think optimistically about outdoor pursuits.

But first we are faced with the doubtfulness of the water supply here in St Lucia. Will the water be warm or cold in the shower? Will there be water at all? It makes one’s morning ablutions that bit more exciting. This morning one could really not say that the water was warm. Off-cold would be the best description, but the pressure was good. So no complaints since the morning was warming up.

We had fruit salad for breakfast again and this time I helped since I am no longer princess for the day. Then an omelette and we were ready for whatever Friday could throw at us. Clearly a beach was required but which one?

In the end we drove to the estuary beach. We parked and walked quite a distance over the sand to reach the sea. The waves looked very frisky and Beatrice let me know that there was a sign saying ‘swimming prohibited’. She told me this much later of course after she and Alex had been in the waves. I decided to go and have a look at the estuary. There were plenty of hippos in the water and plenty of hippo tracks all over even going into the dunes. Are they secret nocturnal surfers? I wondered. I then realised that the ski boat club is on the same estuary I thought those buildings looked familiar. We could have walked to the beach from the campsite. We had come on a really circuitous route to arrive at a beach about a 15 minute walk from our tents! Oh well you live and learn!

So despite the sign saying ‘swimming prohibited’ the kids played Frisbee and then – yes – swam but even Alex said the current was fierce. He had a scary moment when he was caught in the current and had to battle to swim out of it and he’s a very strong swimmer. So they rather jumped in the waves. There were small kids paddling which alarmed me, particularly when they were knocked over by force of the waves. There was lots of suction and at one point a little girl in a pink swimsuit was lifted by a wave and slammed onto the sand. Her Dad ran in and pulled her out. But the family’s reaction to the near disaster was an interesting study. Pink swimsuit girl was the middle child, a thankless position. Oldest child, a boy was left to his own devices but being the oldest was very prudent and not risking life and limb. His reward was to be ignored by his parents. Pink swimsuit was looking for attention and as a result experiencing the wrath of the sea. Youngest child on seeing her sister getting attention, as in being saved from drowning, yells for her mother who picks her up, ignoring pink swimsuit who sits alone on the beach, clearly in shock while her parents tend to her younger sister. A child psychologist’s dream. The kids tell me off for making comments out loud.

Chris and I read and watched the kids. I paddled a bit to cool down my sore ankle and Chris also went for a walk to the estuary to check out the hippos. Although walking on sand is much easier than walking anywhere else at the moment I didn’t join him, I’d walked enough (throbbing ankle – Lesotho – steps – say no more).

There were some clouds in the sky but not looking at all worrying, how nice that the weather forecast was wrong! As we left the beach Beatrice showed me the swimming prohibited sign. I’m quite glad that I didn’t see it earlier.

On the way back to the campsite for a late lunch we stopped at Spar to buy yoghurt and stuff for this evening. I’m on to cook and Beatrice and I decide to try out the spices that we bought at the Indian market from the nice lady. We also stopped at fruit market for the kids to buy the ingredients for tomorrow’s breakfast

Chris made a salad lunch which Beatrice said she didn’t want and then proceeded to make an impromptu salad from the same ingredients bar the avocado. The avocado was delicious, very sweet, a taste quite unlike the avocados that we buy in Windhoek.

In the early evening I marinade the chicken and then Chris and I decide to explore the estuary from the campsite side and as Alex had informed us we find a boardwalk that leads down to the beach where we were this morning. Most of the hippos are out of the water by this time and grazing on the banks. The few left in the water are grunting enthusiastically. We walk back towards the Ski Boat Club and stop for a sundowner, listening to the hippos and watching a kingfisher and two fish eagles hunting.

When we get back to camp the onions have all been peeled and chopped and the cauliflower has been blanched. Thank you Beatrice! Beatrice is about to cook noodles and after that I quickly put the chicken together with cauliflower and peas – the spices are really tasty. Thank you nice lady at the Indian market.

Tomorrow we leave for Swaziland – up early to pack up and set off. We all get into our tents with our books and settle down.

11^th July – Saturday – Day 15 (Beatrice)

Today started off great. The showers were running and hot, it had not rained and we had a glorious breakfast of fruit salad and the normal fry-up in the fabulous sunshine.

Please note that I said started great. Then almost everything went wrong all at once (dramatic music). We packed the car and were ready for off, when Daddy realised he had forgotten the car key in his foldable chair. We tried to open the back door, but the automatic locking system had kicked in and the chairs could not easily be reached from the front. Annoyed, yet not even suspecting what still lay ahead, Alex scrambled under the car to retrieve our spare key, he had expertly hidden there in Windhoek. We all sighed in relief- oh how naïve we were. The back door still refused to open, even after our attempt at using the spare key.
We contemplated that there must be something stuck behind the opening mechanism. So Alex unpacked half the car, accidently ripped the muesli package open, spilling the contents onto the wet car floor, because the cooler had been drained moments earlier. Poor Alex looked like he had been fighting with the cookie monster in a sauna. This my dear readers is just the merest tip of the ice berg.

Daddy had the storing unit designed, so that nothing would move, rattle or clink. In theory great, just a tad problem in this situation, since, well; we could not move anything from the front. Once again poor Alex crawled in with a head torch and appropriate tools to unscrew bolts and planks, throwing the odd bowl or t-shirt in our general direction for us to catch and repack. Alex emerged from the depth of the car having completely freed the opening mechanism, but all his efforts had sadly not made an impact on the overall situation. The back door refused to budge. Hopefully, we tried to open the door by using the old now retrieved key- completely in vain, but it was worth a try. We unpacked the car fully and Daddy and Alex left for town to find a garage, while Mummy and I guarded all our belongings. I felt like I was in an intrepid movie, fending off the HQ from the blasted vervet monkeys with nothing more than two stones and a ketti (slingshot). I am sure we could make a good film out of that.

Did I say that Daddy and Alex left in search of a garage? Sorry, let me rephrase that; Daddy and Alex tried to leave. Emphasis on ‘tried’. The engine refused to start. We assume low battery, due to the overuse of the transformer. I flagged down the next car that drove past and asked them for help; little did I know, that I was looking into the face of our ultimate saviour. Johan quickly drove back to his camp to get the jump leads, since ours, being fabulously stored, were absolutely inaccessible.

As promised Johan, came back with his jump leads and two very friendly daughters. We got the engine started in a trice. This did not make the back door open. Johan very kindly made some calls to mechanics who might know how to solve our problem, without much success. Meanwhile Alex rummaged back into the depths of the car, so that only his feet were visible, and managed to reach and activate the manual override. The door flew open. Fantastic! But it was unfortunately only a short term solution.
Johann, Alex and Daddy opened the cardboard cover of the inside of the door and looked at the mechanics and electric work, while I handed them the appropriate tools and held the screws. Mummy on the other hand was calming her nerves down by doing crossword puzzles and protecting the fruit from the vervet monkeys.
Johan realised that the cable from the door to the electrical circuit had come loose, therefore interfering with the overall signal. After trying around, they found the problem. One small plastic socket had popped out and had managed to cause so much frustration and work. They placed it back and Eureka, it worked!

Soon we were packed up again, had thanked Johan profusely and after doing a bit of shopping left for a hopefully uneventful journey to Swaziland.