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.