EASTERN CAPE

Eastern Cape

Eastern Cape houses

 From Howick we shifted gears and headed west on a hard drive to Coffee Bay on the coast. At a gas station we loaded up on fuel and somas and headed out. We took the N3 motorway to the N2 and crossed into the province of Eastern Cape. Eastern Cape was known as the Transkei and up to 20 years ago was a black homeland and was considered by the apartheid South African government to be a separate country. It’s a poor area where most of the people are Xhosa who speak a click language (they make an occasional clicking sound when they speak). Until recently there has been minimal investment in infrastructure. People are spread widely across the land, living in blue rondavels and cement block buildings; resembling something like an Indian reservation. There are no townships (slums located at the edge of every South African town where the black people live) and few white people. To make up for their lousy roads there is massive road construction going on now. So the driving experience is either long waits at road construction or driving on old narrow winding hilly roads with no shoulders and lots of cows sheep goats and pedestrians sharing the road with the omnipresent SUV rallying at ninety miles an hour mixed in with local hillbilly mobiles going nineteen. There is a lot of truck traffic which leads to extremely unwise overtaking. Like in all of South Africa, most local people hitchhike or ride in the back of pickup trucks or are packed into combi vans driven by crazed cell phone obsessed freakiziods. So after 400 kilometers of that we pulled into the main town of Eastern Cape called Mthatha in the dark to take a break and do some shopping.  The streets of Mthatha on a Friday night where seething with people in the third world manner. Traffic rules broke down and cars were just stopping and going and parking and driving the wrong way. Pedestrians were just everywhere pushing carts or carrying loads or just shouting at their friends or trying to sell stuff in the streets. We pulled into a street construction area and parked and went to the Super Spar grocery store. The place was jamming with music and people were talking loud and greeting each other and clicking away. In fact it was a nice store and very modern and busy, but had short lines. We were definitely the only white people within miles of this place. Foolishly we drove on to Coffee Bay in the dark on bad road where we lost a hub cap somewhere in the dark and drove through some uncontrolled one lane construction areas. We arrived and booked into Sugarloaf Backpackers. We stayed in a nice rondeval near a river not far from the beach.

Scene near Coffee Bay

 Next day we walked east along the coast to Hole in the Rock. It was an open and green landscape with stellar sea views. The coast is populated lightly with people living in groups of huts and really no infrastructure. We met up with a South African guy called Ricky who was full of life and positive energy. He lived near this area 20 years ago when it was really poor and isolated. We arrived at the beautiful setting of Hole in the Rock and went for a swim. Ricky, being a bit mad, swam out to the Hole and jumped in while 12 foot surf exploded on to the rocks and filled the hole. No problem, he loved it. We walked back aways until we hitched a lift from a young French couple on the impossibly rough road back to Coffee Bay. Later on at the backpackers lodge Ricky lined us out on a theoretical itinerary through South Africa which as it turns out had some very good recommendations.

Hiking near Coffee Bay

Sheri and Ricky

Hole in the Rock

Ricky about to jump into the Hole

Jewelry seller

Sheri and company carrying 10 kilograms of rice (doing her part)

Scene near Hole in the Rock

Xhosa Houses

Xhosa Village

From Coffee Bay we were rallied to Port Alfred and camped out in the yard at Kowie Backpackers for about 8 bucks each. The place is essentially a three bedroom ranch house and was a bit grimy and temporarily overseen by a young black girl who didn’t seem to know much. The only other guests were two South African guys who were down on their luck and had women troubles and needed a cheap place to stay for a few months. The older fellow, Frank, had such a thick accent it was hard to understand him and he wore his work clothes all the time even though he retired as a truck driver years ago. Adrian was a younger guy who had no money and was divorced and fighting his ex over his kids. A bit weird, but we got talking to these guys and there were really friendly and liked the company. Adrian was quite introspective and intellectual and is a soft soul in a hard world. Frank constantly told stories of trucking and bad roads and accidentally running over a black guy. Next day, as we were leaving, the subject of music came up so Sheri broke out her ukulele and sang them some songs which they enjoyed. Adrian ran into the house and came back with his ‘baby”, a guitar, and sang a moving version of the song ‘Society’ from the movie sound track of ‘Into The Wild’.

Adrian, Sheri and Frank at Port Alfred

From Port Alfred we had a short drive up to Grahmstown where there was an Arts festival going on. The place has a university and an annual arts festival which is the largest in South Africa. Mostly people attend to see performing arts. We picked up a guide which overloaded us with options and picked out a few events. The first performance we went to was at the City Hall and was really outstanding. It was a troop of about 18 young people who performed African inspired dance with extreme energy (African Rhythms). Later we went to a hip hop trio of young brothers “Prototype” who were entertaining; an acoustic soul group; a musical play; and finally an African inspired ballet type performance (I Am African). The whole town was booked, but we were able to put up our tent in a spot just big enough for it at Whethu Backpackers. It was late when we were walking through the empty streets after the last performance and it felt a touch dodgy, but we flagged down a police pickup truck and they gave us a lift to the hostel.

 

 

Grahmstown Street Scene

Grahmstown City Hall

DRAKENSBERG (Dragon Mountains)

Walkers on a busy road.

Drakensberg

Coming from Durban we took the N3 motorway north. It’s a four lane truck road leading from the largest port in Africa in Durban to Johannesburg a metro of 10 million. It has heavy traffic and winds through steep hilly country. We stopped in Howick to shop at Pick and Pay. In the parking lot we met a very friendly man who lined us out on some spots in the Drankensberg Mountains and also recommended a stop for coffee on the “Midlands Meander”, a byway of artists’ studios spread across the country side. Our recommended stop for coffee was called Piggly Wiggly which was much better and more upscale than the name implies.

We drove on until dark and stayed at Insokana Lodge in the central Drankensberg Mountains (Dragon Mountains). Our host Michel had three white German shepherd dogs to greet us. The lodge is nice and as a true luxury we had a heater in our room still it was frosty outside. 

Inkosana Lodge

People walking on the road at sunset. There are alot of pedestrians in South Africa.

Entrance to the Central Drakensberg

Next day we hiked in the “Monks Cowl” section of the Drankensberg, which is a world heritage site. The mountains there reach about 3200 meters (10,500 feet). We walked up to about 6000 feet to Blindman’s Corner, a nice walk. 

Mt Chaklin near Blind Man's Corner.

 

Next day we drove up to Royal Natal National Park and walked in the northern Drankensberg. We hiked ‘the Gorge’ to the Amphitheater. We attempted to wade through a slot canyon called ‘the tunnel’ but when it came to a full swim we gave up, it was just too cold. 

Royal Natal National Park

Sheri wading in the frigid "Tunnel".

The Amphitheater - Royal Natal National Park

Cheese sandwich on a warm rock after the "Tunnel"

Strangler Vine

Pedestrians near Royal Natal National Park

HOWICK

After all this exercise we drove back south to a farm outside of Howick where a good friend of ours in Bend connected us with Claire, a friend and coworker. Claire set us up in her guest house (literally an entire house), where we had a cozy fire and cooked up a good meal and took a bath since there wasn’t a shower.

Claire is quite busy but she carved out some time for us. We walked on a beautiful warm day up into a patch of native forest on her land with her dogs and a student she’s mentoring. Her place, which is called Misty Meadow Farm, is also home to her parents, sister and brother who all have separate houses, and also a bunch of black people who live and work there. They raise cows, sheep, have greenhouses, and gardens. She says they’re starting to create a community home school and have the goal of having the whole place be self-sustaining. It was very nice and we really appreciated the opportunity to stay there.

Claire's house and friendly pack of dogs

Curtis, Claire, and Sheri at Misty Meadows Farm

 

ST LUCIA and DURBAN

SAINT LUCIA

Sheri at Cape Vidal - iSimangaliso Wetland Park

We arrived from Swaziland to the town of Saint Lucia on the South African coast of the Indian Ocean. We entered a different world compared to dry Kruger Park and Swaziland; a land of rain and wetlands and green grass and trees. We stayed a Manzini Lodge on an estuary of a wetland preserve. We had our own fitted out kitchen, but you had to be careful not to have the lights on and the refrigerator running when the stove top was on or else – puff – darkness. We rushed to the beach and walked in the sand and warm water at twilight. There was a huge lightning show and later in the night it rained hard then a lot harder.

Beach at St Lucia

Beach at St Lucia

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Backyard at our accommodation.

Next day we booked in a kayak trip to iSimangaliso Wetland Park. We met up at a boat house with our guide, Justin, who is a trim young Zulu man from Kosi Bay who had a pretty easy time since we knew how to paddle. We were the only two guests. We paddled out to the estuary and drifted right up to some crocs and hippos. We saw some monitor lizards and later we saw a kingfisher who had a small fish and was whacking it hard against a branch to put it out. It was a pleasant time out and Justin was a good guide. In the afternoon we drove north in to the Wetland Park and drove up to Cape Vidal. It has a really a fine nature beach with warm water and soft granite sand and miles of empty stretches. We had a swim and a walk. On the way back we were wildlife spotting including zebra, buffalo, hippo, kudo, and a lone rhino. iSimangaliso Wetland Park is a beautiful and impressive place.

Curtis and Justin

Monitor Lizard

Baby Kudu

DURBAN

From St Lucia we scooted down to Duban with a quick stop at the beach at Shaka’s Rock. Entering metro Durban we were stuck in traffic and loaded down with all the stuff associated with 4 million people. After some precision urban driving by Curtis we arrived at our accommodation, Hippo Hide Backpackers. Even though we were in an urban neighborhood our room was a wooden hut which looked dark but actually was pretty good. For dinner we drove to Florida Street and ate at the House of Curry – an inexpensive but fairly trendy spot. Seating was outdoors but they had infrared heaters for warmth. After, we strolled around looking into bars and restaurants – Zulu Taco looked to be the most happening but really for a big city it was pretty dead. And outside of this area it’s not recommended to walk at night. Next day we drove to the central district of Durban. Sheri wanted go to the Indian area, which we did. There were quite a few Indian run shops but most of the people were black. We stopped by a CD store and Sheri had the clerk dancing in the isle to South African music. Pretty much everyone in the store (employee or shopper) knew every word of every song. We bailed out of there and went to a herb market. The herb market is set on a freeway on-ramp that apparently was never connected to the freeway. It’s elevated and curved and basically an open air collection of stalls. There were old desiccated animal parts hanging around and bin upon bin of leaves and bark and bottles of stuff. People were busy chopping up herbs and men where pounding the hell out of bark and who knows what in heavy steel mortars. There were piles of spread out … elephant dung? It was explained to us that most of these items are used in traditional medicine and cures for whatever problems a person might have. We were definitely the only whities in this zone. At the end of the herb market we took a pedestrian bridge off the end of the on-ramp that fed into a market above a train station. There was a video section where about 20 stalls had videos playing back all at maximum volume so that it was a total chaos of sound.

Durban Herb Market

 

The herb market is located on a freeway on ramp.

Traditional healers and urban skylight come together in Durban

We cruised down to Queen Street and had some Indian takeaway – special deal - 2 for 1 shwarmas. As we made our way back to the car a drunk man ran into Sheri then slithered off. Well maybe he wasn’t so drunk since he pickpocketed her empty camera case out of her hoodie pocket. After that we maneuvered our little Volkswagen Polo north on the busy N4 motorway towards the Drakensberg Mountains.

At a crosswalk in downtown Durban

Durban Market

Durban street scene