What are the chances that on a four-week trip through South Africa you are going to get to know a driver with four wives; a man who was expelled from high school and now, between stints as a park ranger and a guide, is writing music; two entomologists who will have their telescopic lens glued to the ground for the duration of their trip; an Italian woman whose pharmaceutical advice is dispensed while the rest of us are sleeping; and a collective that is working hard for the welfare and economic rejuvenation of their Zulu village? Pretty good, we found out, if you do something my partner and I seldom do – take a guided tour!
On the first day of our tour, at the 5:00 a.m. departure for Kruger National Park, we meet Collen, our Zulu driver, and the truck we will be calling home for three weeks. Both look sturdy and broken in. Our guide, likewise, appears to have been down an African road or two. With a brusque African accent, he touts random statistics about the current state of wildlife breeding in Africa and the price of a hybridized bull at a recent auction, assuring us that we haven’t got someone who has parachuted in from Devonshire for the job. Before long, we have been introduced to the rest of our truckmates. The most colourful have been mentioned, and all have come with open and even-keeled minds about exploring the tip of “the Dark Continent.”
We sweep into Kruger, and the first thing we see is, not a rhino, but a large snake slithering down a tree at the side of the road. Initially fascinated by the horror of it, we are all furtively sneaking glances at it. As it gets closer, our guide is delirious with excitement.
“OMG! – who’s got binoculars I can borrow? I think it’s a boomslang! I’ve never seen a boomslang on a tour before!”
Suddenly the mood is changed. People hang out the truck windows to get the best shot of the snake to give to the guide for examination. We watch it strike and begin to devour a lizard whole, its mouth expanding to four times its size. What was before a creepy “nature incident” has become a science lab of epic and privileged proportions. We had witnessed a boomslang, the most venomous snake in South Africa, do what so few others witness – dine in the wild.
We learn later about the animals our guide felt he needed to warn us about: the water buffalos, hippos, zebras (“360 degrees of kungfu with very sharp hooves”), hyenas, ostriches (“its front claws can tear a person apart”), and anything black and white in nature. Snakes and spiders don’t even rate a mention.
We appreciate that he didn’t have a fetish about warnings and safety and all-the-things-that-were-going-to-eat-us in the African jungle. He trusted us to make our own judgments about how far to stand away from the edge of the mighty Blyth River Canyon, to size up our strength versus the cross-currents of river deltas next to the Indian Ocean, and to be realistic about our competencies as climbers in the Drakensberg Mountains.
Upon reaching our beautiful base camp at the Amphitheatre Backpackers Lodge, we chose a hike “for the young at heart.” It ascends a vertical rock wall with chain ladders and ropes, and wanders along a windswept landscape that drains, unmarked, into a massive waterfall. In the mist and pouring rain, we descend with cautious foot placements another series of ladders fastened to a massive stone wall of the geological wonder they call the Drakensberg (Dragon) Mountains. We suck it up. We do it. We feel stronger for it, realizing we would have been denied the opportunity to prove ourselves young at heart if Jay had told us it was a trail for only the most advanced or intrepid hikers. We thank him for that.
As we approach the metropolis of Durban aside the Indian Ocean, we sweep up into the Valley of a Thousand Hills for an overnight homestay in a Zulu village. Strolling along the village’s red dirt roads past tiny rondavel huts buried beneath jacaranda trees ablaze in red flowers, we listen to our hosts Max, Thulia and Big Mama describe the village’s grassroots efforts to generate educational and employment opportunities for their youth. It’s a local economic initiative we are happy to support.
Entering the Eastern Cape region of South Africa, we cross “a border” into treed boulevards, stuccoed homes with fenced-in pools and spacious designer malls, and increasingly more beautiful rest stops, like the campsite at Storm’s River adjacent a deep river canyon on the Indian Ocean. Shoreside wanderings along the first part of the world-renowned Otter Trail gives us a taste of the spectacular walking adventures that await the traveller in South Africa.
Canyons, deep valley vineyards tucked into them, and vast tracts of grassland burnt by the sun continue until Cape Town. A night at a lodge by a river known for its white water rafting is rearranged by a river that is virtually dry, but no matter; the experience of directing five kayaks down the river between us as the late-afternoon sun frames the river valley in a soft bowl of blue is heavenly.
Taking care not to run over any elephant dung (which is harbouring the all-important but endangered dung beetle), we drive the final ocean-hugging miles to Cape Town. One senses that all of us on the truck are filled with the usual mixture of feelings about farewells and new beginnings. After the flurry of hugs and photos that ensue upon arriving, we gamely shoulder our packs for the new paths that beckon. Table Mountain, after all, is merely a cloud’s wisp away.
IF YOU GO:
There are frequent direct flights to Cape Town and Johannesburg via London, England and Istanbul, Turkey. The Shosholoza Train across South Africa makes for an easy, enjoyable and inexpensive way to connect its two major cities. Intrepid Travel offers a variety of tours through South Africa, including a moderately-priced, three-week camping tour during the summer season.
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