23/24 AUGUST 2011

ZAMBIA – Country number 11 /2^nd time

LUSAKA

A relatively easy overnight bus ride, gaining at least 5 or 6 hours  sleep, enough to make another day. Arriving at the bus station which is oh, so busy but very close to Lusaka Backpackers (the old Chachacha Backpackers). I love it when I can walk to a place especially after long hours tucked up in a bus or plane seat travelling. It means I also don’t have to tangle with voracious taxi drivers. The hostel is well set up, clean with a good kitchen, great dorm and its WARM and sunny here .Meet another Aussie here volunteering so she has to start work each day at 7.30am!! Lucky her! Also a lovely korean girl who has taken a year off to travel the world – her highlight has been Iceland.

Vote for me, vote for me

It is now sunny here every day, nearly getting hot so time to cast off the rest of my winter woolies saving a few pieces for Ethiopia where it will be winter by the time I arrive there. I check my emails again to find a reply from Alice in Kenya with a Girl Guide contact number here,  Mary Jean. She is very nice to speak to and gives me an address where I head off to, via the Mozambique Embassy. The Mozambique lady there is nice but alas no visas here because “we have run out of the stickers. Try in Lilongwe”!  OK, I’ll do that – like I have any choice if I want to visit Mozambique again. I eventually find the Girl Guides Zambia in a suburb not too far away and I meet with Linda and the National Training Advisor. Linda expresses thanks for the resources and uniforms they have received from Australia! They have all the old resource books I used to use, along with plenty of English girl guide classic novels! We chatted for a while but I don’t glean much info on Guiding here.

But she's still sweeping a street

Linda shows me some photos of girls in uniforms and I ask about buying their Promise Badge and Leaders Scarf. No, not possible - nothing actually seems to be available but the Training Advisor, kindly offers me her Promise badge and I accept only after she assures me that she has another at home. Linda searches in drawers and cupboards for a scarf but “the girl who manages the uniforms is not here”.  That evening I send out a group email to the Zambian GGs but no reply and next day when I try to get a scarf, no one is there although it is not locked up. Eventually one girl turns up – she’s been out to lunch and no, no scarves available, pity. Not a lot of things to do here in Lusaka, especially with a whole day to fill in allowing for a leisurely weekend at South Luanga NP then cross the border to Malawi on Monday. So in desperation I try the museum – blah. One guide approached me to guide his chinese guest (obviously not high ranking, was my guess) around the museum because his (the guide’s) english was not good. I reminded him that being sober might have been a good start, as I refused his offer. Walked into town and tried to stock up on a few passport photos, which are on offer at every street corner. This requires you sit on a crate and someone holds up a white sheet behind you while the photo is taken.

Buy MY bananas

But my first try took ages – the one minute turned into ten while they located a camera. Then ten minutes turned into twenty while one guy left to print out the photos – one minute, one minute! Just for conversation I tried to engage them about the candidates for the upcoming election – “He (Banda) always wins with a minority” I was told and I attributed it to his lovely teeth in his smiling photo behind us. “Yes, the other is old and he looks angry” they commented on the opposition. Soon enough the first bloke comes back but the photo is no good (even without me in it) because it has lines through it. “Take another photos” they insist but I try to explain that if there is no line on the first photo in the camera then the line must be from the printer and you can take all the photos you want, the printer will still produce the lines. Much disappointment all round now because now I will have to go through the whole rigmarole again of actually saying yes to another corner crew, they will have to locate the camera, take the photo and then one minute, while it gets printed.

Plenty of tomatoes in season now

But eventually I succeed and smiles all round. As I follow the main road up and succeed in several purchases, up to now hard to get: I find an optician with a soft glasses case, I find a pharmacy with tongue depressors, that I have decided can be adapted to make a good toe splint for my crooked fourth toe that is giving me curry. And then while I am walking, one man speaks to me “Mummy, I am very happy to see you here now. I saw you back there (getting my photo taken) and I wanted to tell you to go from there because there were bad men there. I wanted to go back there and tell you to move.” I thank him for caring so much for my wellbeing and it never ceases to amaze me that the ordinary person on the street is looking out for me. Easy night back at the hostel, with a nice home cooked dinner.

FACT: There is a very strange feeling in the air here with the upcoming elections: Banda narrowly won the last election amid opposition claims of alleged fraud and I guess people wonder if this election will be all that different in a country well known for its political shenanigans through recent history.

19 – 22 AUGUST 2011

HARARE, ZIMBABWE

Get a taxi into town then on out to Avondale and past onto a far flung suburb only because I thought I’d asked the driver to tell me where to get of and he just assumed I knew where I was going like everyone else. After a mini tour of Harare, we return to Avondale, I get dropped and start walking up Argyle Rd when a minivan calls out “Small World, Small World?

Shona carvings outside my tent

I agree and get a lift right to the door form employees who have been out doing the shopping. I check into Small World Backpackers where they have camping on prickle/thorn free couch grass with lovely sculpture right around the property. There are nearby supermarkets etc and the hostel has a kitchen, lovely tv room, lots of friendly travellers and all is GREAT here. Plenty of people are coming with recommendations for buses, places to stay and even places to eat!

Saturday, I spend walking around looking for a corkscrew to open my wine that I didn’t check before buying. I eventually find one locally but when I use it, it breaks apart. But I manage to use it to get the cork out and I’m happy – wine is open and I’ll get my money back for the piece of junk tomorrow! Today one tourist was brave enough to front the state funeral for Retired General Soloman Mujuru, just for the close up views of Robert Mugabe, Zimbabwe’s President.

What else would you advertise at public toilets

They were burying a war hero who apparently died in a burning house. Newspapers are casting aspersions but not naming names…  who are then in turn described as a group of confusionists whose politics thrives on mischief. Ahhh it must be so frustrating to be Zimbabwean and read this stuff!

The hostel is very relaxing with movies every night as the tourists have lots of DVDS to watch! We even take it in turns to go to the kitchen to make cuppas for everyone – nearly home away from home. I buy a bus ticket to travel onwards tomorrow night to Lusaka, giving me another day here but not a lot to see here unless you like stripped monuments, done in a pique to demonstrate the discarded colonialists.  I spend my last day in Zimbabwe walking into town to visit the Girl Guides and meeting with their President, Elizabeth Mamukwa, who is lovely.  We sit down to tea and chat and I ask if they know anyone in Lusaka – no, but Alice Wawaru will – they give me Alice’s email and when I get online I send her a quick email to explain who I am and what I want. Fingers crossed!

Easy day with lots of walking in anticipation of tonight’s bus ride. I call in at the Harare Sports Club and check out their prized historic memorabilia from days gone by a nice oval being primed to host matches here, along with tennis courts and putting greens. Lunch at their public club the Maiden on the most peculiar version of steak strips I have ever had – swimming is sauce, yuck. Easy early evening relaxing at the hostel then a quick taxi ride to the bus station - tonight’s bus  takes off on time and I sit with a lovely young women, at uni in South Africa.

She is travelling to Zambia to purchase african clothing, which she takes back with her to Capetown to sell at tourist markets. By doing this she is finding her uni tuition. She reckons 90% of folk are on travelling to Zambia for informal business. The bus ride is easy – chicken, chips and soft drink provided for dinner, the goriest movie I have EVER seen on the tv and when the bus arrives at the border by 1pm we park in line with the other buses and sleep till the border opens. Then there’s quite a bit of standing in line but my double entry visa gets me in without a problem and we’re off to Lusaka where I try to get my head around the Kwaitcha exchange rate again.

FACT: The World Bank is offering to fund a land audit but is meeting with some resistance from war veterans who benefited from Mugabe’s land largesse. Apparently the World Bank wants some order before assisting the country and donors want structures to be in place to finance. Apparently there is ‘multiple ownership’ by government hierarchy, including Robert Mugabe, who together with his family ‘owns’ 32 prime agricultural properties!!

If you look really carefully that's an Aussie helmet

A relic

Where did the trees go?

No names left on this monument

18 AUGUST 2011

GREAT ZIMBABWE RUINS

Leaving late this morning because Fin has locked his valuables in the safe here at Packers Paradise and can’t r retrieve them until the Boss arrives and they have had a car breakdown. The taxi is waiting half an hour for us and he kindly doesn’t charge us!

Eventually we get to the bus station, find the correct bus, it’s nearly full and soon enough we’re off to Masvingo, arriving to get a local taxi out to Great Zim by 1pm. We walk 1500m first to the hotel, then another 1500m to the park gate then another bloody 1500m to the accommodation where we get to check in. We are kindly offered a small lunch by the staff before we walk further still to be shown the dormitory, which has a very strong chemical smell. The lady assures us that it’s only the cobra and will soon dissipate. THE WHAT? I am imagining a poison to get rid of snakes and Fin imagines that it’s the smell of the cobra snake??? We ask again a couple of times and eventually she explains that cobra is a floor polish! Soon enough we settle in to our powerless gulag with promises that the power will return later. But we still have enough time this afternoon to explore our surrounds. We begin at the museum but don’t find it too enlightening in there.

Basically any investigations completed have not revealed any purpose or history of the ruins, nor why the Great Zimbabwe collapsed, just suppositions! But I did witness 4 zimbabweans replacing 1 light globe that still didn’t work. We try the café for a cuppa – no tea. They have coffee. We will have coffee. No, no power. Do you have anything? Yes tea and coffee. Just not now – no electricity.  We laugh at the incongruity of the responses, imagining what a gas bottle and ring could do someone enterprising. We head on into the ruins using the modern path to ascend the Hill Complex. A Geckos tour group are here and returning downhill, all 22 of them and at times like this I am grateful to be an independent traveller choosing how long I will stay here and what I will see. Fin and I spend a few hours clambering over the rocks for gorgeous views of the surrounding countryside, alas Fin didn’t bring his camera. We hear drumming and Fin is adamant that it’s genuine and from that real village below. 

We walk down the Ancient Path to investigate and meet up with a woman also walking there. After consulting the map we find it’s a ‘reconstructed’ Karanga village, purely for tourists. They start dancing to welcome us but thankfully Fin assures them that he has no money. I confirm this and the non- commercial, traditional dancing sadly comes to an end. 

We check out the woman’s pots, leave as soon as is polite and find ourselves very close to The Great Enclosure. Still enough daylight to make it around these lower parts of the ruins, more rocks, bricks but here is the only recognisable construction other than a wall – probably a granary. Fin decides to try running back to the Gulag to get his camera because the light is lovely now at dusk and I dally about looking for shortcuts. Fin reappears – no time to get his camera but he shows me the next shortcut back to the Gulag. Still no power here but we both have enough food for dinner without having to cook, especially Fin who cooks double quantities for himself and travels with a tupperware container for the leftovers! Not bad for an 18 year old, eh?

As we sit in the fading light I go back to get a knife to cut my apple but the thieving monkeys are quick and grab some of my fruit! Fin takes chase and just about catches the thief! The monkey only got away with a tart and Fin saved my apple. What a hero! As night falls we decide to walk to the hotel for a few hours of modernity and on our return we find we have power, it’s not freezing in the gulag and in the morning the power is still with us.

I get a hot shower, we boil water for a hot breakfast and all is good in the world again. Suddenly the gulag doesn’t look so bad and I briefly consider another night here but know that time is against me now. Fin returns to the ruins for photos and I slowly pack, get my change from the office and meet a canadian who knows a great shortcut out of here that misses the hills back to the road, completely! We get to the road and within five minutes we’re picked up to return to Masvingo. I walk to the bus stop and catch Zim’s slowest bus to Harare – a four hour trip turns into eight hours and we finally arrive at 4pm exhausted.

My seat partner was a lovely young lady returning home from boarding school in Masvingo who was lovely to talk to during a long trip interrupted by numerous police roadblocks and checks. Ahh memories of Nigeria

FACT: The papers are reporting a suspected  case of witchcraft, where a family in Bulawayo have been left dumbfounded and in distress after their six year old daughter developed a ‘mysterious’ disease that resulted in her left hand falling off. And her remaining hand has since desiccated and is at an advanced state of decay! The report goes on to describe the efforts of her mother taking her to a clinic and being referred to a hospital where the girls hand fell off. The mother lost hope with scientific methods and then sought the aid of ‘prophets’. Mrs Ncube says her daughter is no longer experiencing pain, and “it is clear that this is the work of the devil, this is the worst kind of witchcraft one can ever experience. What sort of disease results in arms falling off?  It is really queer and we are finding it hard to come to terms with it.”  I have to say that in the photo, the young girl does not look distressed, but is certainly short one hand and about to lose the other! 

16 – 22 AUGUST 2011

ZIMBABWE – Country number 12 /2^nd time

BULAWAYO, 16/17 August

This bus ride with my fav Christian bus company, Intercape was easy again and this evening I’m seated next to a lovely young fellow who claims he is a fashion model travelling regularly to South Africa for clothes and accessories no longer available in Zimbabwe. Along with everything else that is not available in Zimbabwe, I guess is being supplied by neighbouring countries via Zimbabweans. The border process entering Zimbabwe is complicated by a new set of rules introduced 1 August; everyone entering Zimbabwe must declare all personal items of value that they have to be checked of on exit. At 2am I’m a little confused about what items of mine to declare. My questions get strong advice from fellow passengers about what I should and should not write on the form including the advice “don’t lose it” after the form has been stamped and returned to me by customs.  After an hour or so of thorough bag searches we’re all back on the bus and zooming towards Bulawayo. The drop off is not too far from where I want to stay so I take a lovely morning  walk along the very wide, tree lined streets to Packers Paradise. Check in and enquire about getting out to Matobo NP – “a tour has just left here – we will ring and organise for you to get there and meet them at the gate”. AND then they cook me breakfast while I’m waiting. 

Look, balancing rocks

 I’m happy and soon enough, being driven out to the park on an overcast day and join a trio of Spaniards for a drive through the game park. The weather starts taking a turn for the worse and we only see a few Thornicroft Giraffe (the dark coloured ones) and some fleeing rhino. It’s even too cold for baboons today!  The Spaniards are a little disappointed but I don’t mind – I wanted to see the granite formations that are peculiar to this part of the world. The highlights were the balancing rocks within the game park and adjacent, Rhodes Grave atop Worlds View was FANTASTIC with the lovely Maleme dam. We were taken to visit a rock overhang with a little known san painting, then on to a pitiful museum and huge cave that was evidenced with past well-meaning attempts to save the San paintings there. They had tried coating them with linseed oil to preserve them and succeeded in destroying them completely! Hmmmm

After a full day of being driven about on tour I ask to get dropped in town to walk and familiarise myself with Bulawayo.  

The supermarkets are thriving hives of activity which seems to be norm here, perhaps a reaction to the severe food shortages of just a few years ago?  Or maybe its something to do if you’re unemployed, poor and trying to find a bargain for dinner? On returning to the hostel I discover 3 restaurants and a bar right next door (when the LP map shows it to be all alone out in the burbs)! Very civilised, with a coffee machine, laid back music, roaring fire and happy folk lounging about (obviously NOT poor, unemployed citizens) in the café tonight.

I make contact with the local Girl Guides, telephoning Morag Stone who tells me that she and Margaret spent the afternoon out at the airport today waiting for me to arrive!

The cave with destroyed paintings

I am so embarrassed– Elizabeth got my plans mixed. So I tell Morag that I had arrived this morning by bus and we arrange to meet the next day.  She kindly picks me up and together we visit Bulawayo’s museum. She is very well informed about the exhibits here and is genuinely pleased to see most of the museum in reasonable condition.  We spent a lovely morning together before lunching at Mary’s in town. Quite of few of the affordable city restaurants are setup in private homes adapted for trading. Morag relates a few of the plans Zimbabwe GG has for their Centenary next year and we chat a bit about the last few years in Zimbabwe which has seen much tumult and disruption to the country. RE the food shortages, Morag told me that they would often tell each other they had air pie for lunch, meaning nothing!

The view from Rhodes' final resting place

Visiting Bulawayo’s curio market outside City Hall we meet up with Morag’s daughter and granddaughter, the latter who lives with Morag during the school term… Unfortunately Morag’s family are due to sign over 51% of their family farm on the 1^st of next month, ‘to someone we don’t know”. Very sobering stuff here and my thoughts remain with those who are sticking it out there in Zimbabwe against the odds. We finally wish each other farewell and I spend the arvo with more walking and being very successful in buying a Zimbabwe sim card and find the office nearby to register it which will let me use it. I call in at the tourist office to find out about getting to the nearby Khami Ruins where I meet three other tourists who are trying to get out to Matobo NP today. One is an Aussie who introduces himself – Fin from Sydney, my new roommate he tells me. 

Downtown sunny Bulawayo

 I recount my previous day’s tour experience to the Matopos and after finding there is no transport out to Khami, leave them trying to find a way out there to go camping – which would be a lovely experience. More walking around to soak up this country town vibe and there are plenty of signs around town advertising the upcoming New Zealand cricket tour here. A couple of the matches are due to be played in Bulawayo to continue Zimbabwe’s efforts to re-join International Cricket. The locals are mad keen fans of their team so it would be fun to catch a match, but the dates in Harare are when I’m in Bulawayo and the matches in Bulawayo I will already be in Harare. B*gger.

I find a souvenir shop hidden away who have great issues of Zimbabwe’s 50 trillion dollar note, so I get one for Kyle, before heading back to Packers Paradise where Fin I discuss our various travels and intentions. He decides to join me tomorrow in visiting the Great Zimbabwe Ruins overnight. In the meantime I head next door to try the beer and end up chatting for a few hours with a couple of Zimbabweans (white) who have very firm views of Zim’s problems, Zim’s locals and Zim’s future. But they were buying the beers and were amusing to listen to, with a pinch of salt and plenty of beer!

FACT: The indigenisation and empowerment programme is currently being implemented by the government of Zimbabwe. The indigenisation part of the supply chain compels government department, agencies etc to procure at least 50 per cent of their goods from indigenous suppliers. The official line is” indigenisation and empowerment in its totality, encompasses the takeover of majority equity, community share ownership schemes, employee share ownership schemes and of course, the indigenisation of the procurement process”. The cornerstone of this programme is the prescription for indigenous Zimbabweans to take over at least 51 per cent of equity in companies worth more than US$500,000 or more.  This condition will be enforced on a sector by sector basis with the mining industry having already started submitting plans for consideration. Then the policy will be implemented in other sectors like banking and finance, manufacturing and energy. It is stated that once indigenous Zimbabweans take control of key sectors like mining, energy development and agro processing, and gather momentum, an indigenous fund will then be created to finance other areas of development.  I’D LIKE TO SEE THAT!!

8 – 14 AUGUST 2011

CAPETOWN AGAIN

Monday is Oppikoppi’s pack up day and the lines of cars leaving started quite early. The return convoy bus wasn’t due to arrive until 2.30pm which was, by my estimation, going to cut it a little fine to catch my flight to Capetown at 6.30pm tonight so I decided to strike out on my own to get back to Pretoria or Jo’burg. Easier said than done!  I walked to the exit gate and started hitching. Then locals tried to help me hitch. Then I started calling destinations in the hope that someone might relent and give me a lift. BINGO Then it was a slow crawl to Northam where I sat waiting for the taxi to fill. A few hours later we arrived in some outpost where I changed again for Pretoria to then change again for the train station to get the Gauteng train to the airport. Arriving in time to check in I was approached by a bloke trying to get a netball uniform down to Capetown for his wife. I immediately thought of Merryn at work, and agreed to take it for him, we exchanged details for his wife to have a sign looking for me when we disembarked and then promptly forgot about catching the plane!! How I did this, I have no idea other than forgetting to think after such a big weekend??

When I finally noticed the time it was 6.16pm which reminded me that my flight was at 6.30pm - I hadn’t even gone through security. Aarrgghh I raced through the xrays then ran through to find a closed gate without any personnel. OMG now what? I found a couple of airline staff who assured me I was too late, the plane was ready to taxi and that was that. I showed my boarding pass with the luggage chit and asked if they had removed my bag? “What bag?” Oohh now there’s a snag. Their records showed I had checked in without a bag but my boarding pass showed differently. After a chat with someone who could make a decision they decided it was quicker to let me onboard than take my bag off. Phew, Thank goodness for some rules eh? Or perhaps my karma was in good nick cause I was carrying that netball uniform? LOL

Arrived in Capetown still in disbelief that I had nearly missed the flight, handed over the uniform and wished the netballers the best of luck in their national comp. Caught the last bus to the city and checked in to Penthouse on Long backpackers, which is super comfy. A quick walk up the street to visit Davina and Sue who had also arrived today, at their four star digs, I find that their reception can’t ring up to their room because it’s after 10pm – 10.03pm to be exact!! Grrr I negotiate, he asks someone else and then he tries to call them – they are on the phone. He tries again and again, same response. I tell him there are two people there, if one is on the phone, perhaps I could go up and the other lady could answer the door – no, I am not allowed up there. Eventually after 20 minutes of my very patient waiting he decides he will go up and ask. Soon enough he’s back and escorts me up to their LOVELY room where they are bearing gifts from Terry and news of their trip so far. We chat about their plans over the next few days and sort out that we will probably catch up over dinner each night to allow them to visit the big tourist spots that I have already seen. Soon enough I’m admiring the views from their hotel’s glass elevator which are FABULOUS and dine out on Long St until late. 

The next day is Women’s Day and with fine weather I decide to tackle walking up to Table Mountain via the Pleterklip Gorge. By the time I get organised and out to the lower cable station its nearly 1pm, the walk is timed for two and a half hours so I give myself until 4pm before thinking of turning back before dark. Up and up and UP I go, slow as a wet week BUT I make it to the top before 4pm and relax somewhat now knowing I can catch the cable car down (I’m sure that’s not cheating). There are plenty of locals and tourists alike up here because of the public holiday with gorgeous sunshine to boot. I get the tourist bus back to town via Camps Bay, a seriously lovely area of Capetown and meet up with Sue and Davina for dinner at Timbuktu in Long Street – serving Ethiopian food!

I make a big decision to shop for a few replacement clothes because my clothes are wearing out after six months of constant wearing and washing and Capetown is just the place! I visit the city station to conquer the Metro train and bus systems to catch the train out to Pinelands and visit Cape West Girl Guides HQ, buy up on Girl Guide biscuits, a few souvenir badges and chat to the Region Commissioner, Cathay Hannay who confirms Saturdays Region Day arrangements. I head back to town to meet up with Sue and Davina and we have dinner at the Signal Hill Tea Room – a restaurant with a long history and fabulous view of Capetown up a very steep hill.

Jolly hard getting this high but the views were pretty good!

Via email, Sue Fourie has kindly invited me to visit her Girl Guide unit at Rosebank and she picks me up at the nearby train station (I’ve got this metro system sussed now). A unit of about 15 girls with a few away because of Ramadan, are very welcoming. I run a game of Jacobs Ladder using Aussie animals, talk to them about Guiding in Australia and offer up the last of my swap badges which they eagerly accept.  This evening has one group making bags, painted with the World Badge, one small group doing badge work and another group who I help create invitations inviting elderly neighbours to an afternoon tea in a few weeks. Soon enough the night is over and Sue kindly drives me back to town and we talk easily all the way there. Tonight I’m out to Mama Africa to meet up with Sue and Davina where the music is great with a large band including a brass section and three marimbas. They are lots of fun and the girls have already been chatting to them and bought their cd!

Bo Kaap, Capetown

Sue and Davina’s last day in Capetown and it’s a grey rainy day.

We walk about town to the Muslim section of town, called Bo Kaap, then over to Company Gardens and a few last minute buys for Sue. We farewell each other as they taxi off from their hotel to catch the bus to the airport. I spend a leisurely afternoon visiting the Old Town House on Greenmarket Square to check out the lace painting skill of a few Dutch Masters there. Later I head down to St Georges Cathedral (Desmond Tutu’s Parish) to walk their George’s Labyrinth, Siyahamba and visit a fab display Glimpsing Hope, Marching for Peace. It documented the peace march initiated by the clergy of Capetown, 13 September 1989 here in Capetown and violent reactions by police forces of the times. Tonight’s dinner at the hostel is a traditional Sth African Braai at their rooftop bar – delicious food, nice people to talk to but pity about the wild and windy weather.

My last weekend in Capetown, Woodstock’s market is on again and as I’ve now mastered the Metro, it’s easy to reach without a car. I pick up a few yummy snacks to fortify me and then return to town to visit the bric-a-brac shop I saw at the cathedral yesterday. I pick up a few bits and bobs (of course) then travel by bus out to Retreat for a Girl Guide Safety Day with the Cape West Girl Guides, that Linda Botha had done a great job organising.

I meet up with Cathy Hannay again at this Region Day complete with emergency vehicles and a lovely fireman who leads the younger girls on a crawl around the large hall to escape a burning building.  Alas at the end of the day one of the emergency trucks had broken done on the school grounds and was awaiting (emergency?) help to get started again! 

Tonight I have a kind invitation from Kaash, whom I’d met in Namibia, to be picked up from Retreat and join her family for dinner. Kaash and her family are Muslim and as it is now Ramadan supper was post sundown. They live in a lovely house at Mitchells Plain which is a HUGE area of Capetown and little visited by tourists. We shared a delicious home cooked meal with lots of courses interspersed with rest breaks for chat, prayer and cigarettes!

After fasting all day, you are very hungry so it is better to eat small amounts, rest and then return to the table for more. Kaash’s Mum also had some friends over and everyone was very welcoming and very interesting to talk to along with their enthusiasm for sharing their culture and beliefs. Soon enough the evening was late and Kaash and her lovely boyfriend kindly drove me all the way back to the city centre!

My last day here in Capetown AND South Africa, I’ve arranged to meet up with Gyda, whom I had met in Durban. The weather has returned to sunshine and as I walk down Long Street towards where she is staying when I hear my name being called out and see Inga walking towards me. Inga was working an internship at Chameleon in Namibia and we toured together there and now we are both amazed that in such a big city we have met up so randomly!!

Inga and I in Long Street, Capetown

She is travelling with her boyfriend and I recruit him to take photos while I tell Inga that I had caught up with Kaash only the night before! Amazing! I continue walking to Gyda’s hostel and together we visit the Victoria & Albert Waterfront on the great Myciti bus. Plenty of window shopping here with lovely views now the sun is back today and great walking. Gyda is looking especially for cd souvenirs for her parents who are a conductor and chorister so a bit of time in cd shops and souvenir sheds. We head over to the Nelson Mandela Gateway enquiring about tickets to Robben Island for Gyda. They offer her a half-price ticket and plenty of reading material due to her hearing disability. Then when we walk around the museum showcasing the history of the Island’s football teams, we chat to the receptionist who knows of a woman on the island who can sign – she puts Gyda in contact with the woman and before we leave all is arranged: she will have a signing guide for her visit, along with a half-price ticket and plenty of background material to read and Gyda is very pleased with this. Soon enough we farewell and head back to our respective hostels, promising to email photos etc.

Gyda and I

Time has come for me to pack and prepare to leave South Africa – which includes a parcel to post early next morning which was the easiest I have sent yet! Easy flight to Jo’burg then the Gautrain to Rosedale and taxi to Park Station to relax before hitting the road to Zimbabwe and the slow crawl up the eastern coast countries. I am over half way through this trip now and I know my time will speed by now. I haven’t done a lot of research for this part of the trip yet  BUT I know I heading towards an established route of travel, will meet lots of people travelling from where I am headed and hope to glean lots of info this way.. Insh Allah Wish me luck

FACT: The newspaper reports that twelve villagers were arrested in February after a pastor at Jeppes Reef was burnt to death. The pastor was dragged from his house and set alight after villagers accused him of talking to animals and using an invisible magic penis to sleep with women in the settlement. His house was also burnt and his wife is now in hiding after being accused of turning into a snail and terrorising the community. One of the accused has since died after complaining of painful and swollen feet and vomiting blood (beaten in custody?). The remaining accused are still waiting to hear when they will face trial for murder and arson after their case was again postponed until September.

I reckon this one belongs in the Believe it or Not category. 

3 – 8 AUGUST 2011

PRETORIA and OPPIKOPPI

After deciding on a whim to attend the festival, Oppikoppi, to get back to Pretoria I take a very quick one hour flight up to OR Tambo airport and make my way on the new Gautrain route to all the way to Pretoria.  I make my way over to Bill and Jill’s home where they have kindly agreed to put me up before catching the convoy to the Oppikoppi festival tomorrow.

How big is everything here at the Voortrekker monument

This afternoon Will took me out to visit the Voortrekker Monument, perched on the top of a hill above Pretoria set in a 250 ha reserve. It was built over 7 years from 1938, apparently designed to last a thousand years and when you see it you can well imagine it will. It commemorates the Battle of Blood River when 500 Boers defeated 12,000 Zulus (did they have guns and cannons perhaps?) but the view from this massive edifice was amazing and included a bird’s eye view of both Fort Schanskop and Pretoria’s Union Buildings which we visited later. We admired a tapestry that apparently has more than three million stitches (who counted?), and a monumental marble relief along all four interior walls depicting the ‘Great Trek’ which was when Dutch and German pioneers travelled by ox-wagon over the Drakensberg mountains, determined lot they were, to northern parts of South Africa to get away from the British.

Will and I

There are four forts in all around here, three of which were built by a german firm and the fourth by a French firm, all built around 1896 to guard against attacks during the Anglo-Boer war but due to later disarmaments, they were invaded by the British in 1900 without a shot being fired.  According to the info, during ‘British occupation, the forts were the property of the Crown and thoroughly manned and armed’. Of course!

Surrounded by beautiful gardens with memorials, tributes and statues aplenty, Pretoria’s (and South Africa’s) Union Buildings’ cornerstone was laid in 1901 and completed in 1913 to symbolise the authority of the state. This was the site for the inauguration of South Africa’s first democratically elected head of state, former President Nelson Mandela. However due to fears of violence from upset folk at that time it is now no longer possible to visit the grounds within.

Big, isn't it? I reckon this will last a thousand years

I am booked travel to Oppikoppi tomorrow on The Oppikoppi Convoy that I found via the festival’s facebook page and I have no idea what to expect other than the festival sounded like fun and the convoy will get me there and back. I figured it might be an interesting way to spend a few days waiting for Sue and Davina (who have been on tour in South Africa) to arrive in Capetown where we will meet up.

Bill and Jill spoil me with a lovely dinner, comfy bed and hearty breaky, along with fruit and tinned food to supplement the nibbles I have for the weekend. Don’t want to fade away or anything severe like that. Bethany kindly drives me out to the Pretoria Uni where the convoy bus awaits. The luggage trailer is already overloaded so the rest of the bags are hoisted in with us. Only a few folk know each other so I don’t really feel the odd one out except for my AGE!

On the convoy and Estelle is excited!

But I am welcomed, offered drinks and peruse the festivals programme with more advice from my new friend, Estelle. After a few hours we arrive at the festival site out past Northam via many cigarette stops, grog buy ups etc. The guys find a great site for us to camp that was really close to the entrance, but far enough from the road that we weren’t showered in dust from passing foot traffic. The weekend followed with blazing sun during the day and very chilly evenings, listening to music, walking between stages and generally switching off altogether! Bethany had marked some recommendations and my new campsite friends talked about a few others that they were planning to see. I heard about a band called Fuckoffpolisiecar, one of South Africa’s first rock bands to sing in the local language, Afrikaans. As the band was not playing this year, there was a film being shown documenting the band members, their rise in popularity and accordingly the resistance they encountered from some parts of South Africa’s less liberal communities. To sum up Oppikoppi, all I can really say is there only one rule at Oppikoppi is NO GLASS: that means that any plastic container is filled to the brim with wines/beer/spirits and carried in without a problem.

I think this container had beer

Obviously no bag searches cause sheeshas/hookahs were very abundant and a little like our Meredith Festival in Victoria, couches are an option and one group brought along a bunk bed from which to watch the music. Distances were close between the stages except for the trance stage which was either a bit of a walk around the hill or a steep trek straight up the hill which I tackled a couple of times only in daylight.

Hold that rope to help get up and down the hill

I saw 2 separate falls – one bloke coming down fell and rolled right into a thornbush – ouch. The second was coming up too fast, tripped and noseplanted, balancing on his face for several seconds before falling to the ground!! But thanks to the effective painkilling features of copious amounts of alcohol both righted themselves quickly and were on their merry way!

FACT: Pretoria has a one of a kind Correctional Service Museum, portraying “the development of the penal system, displaying the hobbies of prisoners and illegal items manufactured by them”.  Riveting stuff but I was happy to give it a miss.

Oppikoppis version of a pipe band

Any container will do for wine

I was a novelty, I am sure

Great staging

Plenty of dust by day 3

The chair tree on pack up day

28 JULY – 2 AUGUST 2011

SOUTH AFRICA – Country number 14/3rd TIME – SOUTH AFRICA

DURBAN

What a palaver trying to travel back to Durban from snowy Lesotho. The taxis are only travelling in convoys  and we all leave at 8am to travel from Mokhotlong on very cold and icy roads. The first taxi has chains on its back tyres and when it starts to skid on the black ice we all stop, shovels appear and the ice is removed from the road for the rest of us to follow. So with many stops and starts we travel through Oxbow to Buthe-butha in Lesotho, to arrive at the border, Caledonspoort around 1pm. Through immigration there without a problem then a taxi to Fouriesburg, then change for Bethlehem to change again for Qua Qua. Arriving after 6pm there are no taxis now but there is one bus at 7.30pm to Harrismith where I will have to stay the night because I am exhausted and not close enough to Durban to continue. As I wait for the bus, I chat to the other women waiting who are so curious as to how I have turned up there – they tell me “you shouldn’t be here”. I ask them where ‘here is’? They tell me it’s a homeland, which I guess means it’s a very poor area where blacks were forcibly removed, meaning nowadays its full of the poor and unemployed. I tell them that I think that as long as I stick with them, I’ll be ok.

I was so bored waiting for transport

With that they start organising where I am going to stay and how to get there. They suggest one place but on telephoning the price is way too high. But they suggest another hotel, Harry’s Lodge whose price is reasonable. The women are more than happy after speaking to the receptionist on my phone, sorting out where I should get off the bus. And on the bus ride each of the women, before getting off the bus say good bye to me and then check with the driver that he knows where he is going to drop me!  So I get to Harrismith and the hotel is right across the road from where I get off, and the staff were a real hoot.

And I thought you might like to see

They were honestly bowled over to see a tourist turn up and the receptionist had taken it upon herself to confirm with her manager that I could have a room upgrade – and the room was lovely. It was so nice to relax in warmth (heating underfloor) in comfort after my enforced stay in rural Mokhotlong.  Next morning after a full breakfast I got a lift to the taxi rank because ‘the taxi comes at 10.30am’. After waiting a while I realise I still have the hotel’s  room key in my pocket but just as I consider hiking back there the receptionist walks out of the supermarket and I can give her the key - what luck!

After 11am I’m told the taxi will come at noon and as that time passes I ask again and am told 2pm! I always find myself wondering how people know these things and I know nothing.

Sign seen at a curry restaurant

some local advertising

Anyhow after waiting 6 ½ hours for the taxi it arrives and I get on board heading to Durban. A few hours later we arrive in Pinetown, a township just outside of Durban to board another taxi, arriving in the city centre just on dark to get one more taxi out to Florida Rd to arrive by 6pm, have a beer and RELAX. I find I have the dorm all to myself for the next few days while I revel in the mildness of Durban’s weather, to shop, cook and enjoy the city for a couple of days. I have finally worked out the city taxis’ routes to work in with the buses so getting around is even easier this second time around. The beachfront is lovely to walk along on a sunny day with all the durbanites out enjoying the weekend and sunshine so it does seem a sacrilege to go to the movies on such a day – BUT Durban is hosting the 32^nd International Film Festival. I book for Man without a Cell Phone (Fr/Belg/Israel) and Taka Takata (Sth Africa), both amusing and well made. I’m missing out on Melbourne’s MIFF at this time of year so on the other hand it did seem appropriate to see a couple of movies.

It's good to be back in warm weather again

Next day I made another trip out to KZNSA to check out a photography exhibition centred on the many women living permanently in hostel accommodation in town and then enjoyed a leisurely lunch in the sun. I also made to the Durban Art Gallery in City Hall to check out another great photography exhibition on the local Trolley Boys – great photos of very hardworking young men who push, pull and trundle all manner of goods loaded up as mobile shops.

I still love Durban

Yes, you can skate even wearing hijab

Durban's beautiful mosque again

Durbans fancy new stadium

FACT: Statistics show that there have been 230 Initiate deaths over the past four years here in the Eastern Cape due to botched circumcisions. In addition 150 young men have had to have their penises amputated because of complications after the procedure. Proposals now include mobile clinics to specialise in circumcision-related health care in a culturally sensitive manner and police operations to identify illegal initiation schools. Ahh the problems with culture, tradition and customs in a modern world!