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Published: June 23rd 2006
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Nomadic Horsemen
These guys are easily spotted with their traditional and very colourful blankets. Our sleep at the mission was possibly the best we'd had in Africa so far and we even managed a whopping lie in, 8.30am, somewhat of a record for us! We procrastinated until the last possible minute in the hope that a lift or another option might come our way before deciding on a big bus to a small junction village called Moitsupeli, which was half way back to Maseru and where we were told we could transfer via a short walk to "the other tar road" going South to a place called Malealea, supposedly the jewel of Lesotho. By doing this we figured we could minimise our backtracking as all the roads in Sthn Lesotho were dead ends, well the ones we needed were any way. Whilst waiting for the big bus to depart we bought a massive bag of hot fresh popcorn for R2 and sat watching the world of Semonkong go by. It was truly fascinating watching all the shopkeepers set up and go about their daily business, nomadic horsemen drifting through town, people bringing their wares in on donkeys to sell or trade, all the while rich obnoxious South Africans went screaming through town at a million
Setting up shop in Semonkong
Store holders go about their daily business. miles in their 4wds or on trail bikes. The kids who had gathered around us were more than happy to share our popcorn, as was one particular mama who kept barging through the crowd and helping herself to movie size handfuls without the slightest acknowledgement that we even existed. There is no such thing as an un eventful bus ride in Africa, but as far as they go, this one was quite tame. We weren't sure where it was exactly that we were to alight, but when the bus stopped after a couple of hours and everyone stared and pointed at us we took our cue. An elderly man who just happened to be sitting exactly where we got off greeted us and was keen to organise a taxi, which more than likely meant a donkey, but he was overshadowed by a young dude who wanted to be our protector as he claimed he was black belt in ten different martial arts! He went on to mention that his heroes were Celine Dion and Michael Bolton before breaking into a Phil Collins number at the top of his voice that he'd obviously been practicing for this precise moment. We'll never
Lady Mountains
The translation in Sesuthi is of a holy female mountain. know whether the village of Moitsupeli came to a stand still because of the two whities or the terribly loud singing of which our new protector was very proud. When for the tenth and slightly more forceful time we told him that we weren't in need of any of the services he was offering he rather dejectedly left us, but returned triumphantly to the applause of his fellow villagers. Our short walk to the other tar road going South turned out to be a four and a half hour short walk. We were both not at our peak, both physically or mentally and didn't particularly see the funny side of the situation. Thankfully we met another young guy who just started walking with us. He turned out to be the most intelligent and well spoken African we'd met so far. I'm ashamed to admit that I can't remember his name, but he was in his second year of an economics degree at the N.U.L. in Roma and was keen to discuss the Australian political system and where we stood in relation the the Queen, World News and current events, health and social problems in Africa and even Shane Warnes marital
Sun Flowers
Fields and fields of flowers, and this one was by no means the tallest! blues! We left no stone unturned in the next three hours and not only did he save Dani and I taking each others heads off, he knew all the shortcuts thus saving us time and the very imminent prospect of being stuck no where in the dark. He kept telling us he was worried that not only had he no credit left to tell his mama where he was, he'd passed through his girlfriends village without stopping to say hello. Big trouble! He eventually got us to the other tar road going South, via a short mini bus ride for which we were ever grateful, and after sharing refreshing drinks he flagged a big bus for us and told the driver to take us to Morija, only part of the way to Malealea, but as far as we could hope to get before dark. From there he told us how to get to Malealea the next day. After making sure our un named soldier was able to get home (we were happy to take him with us), we thanked him profusely and hopped on the big bus to Morija. The bus was full of screaming chanting passengers, most of which
School Bus
Hope there are no more passengers to pick up, but hey, this is Africa! were nuns, who were listening to an exiting football match between two of South Africas top teams, Orlando Pirates and Kaiser Chiefs. The match went into a penalty shoot out and although we couldn't understand the commentary, we still got right into the cheering which pleased the supporters of both teams. We'd found a lodge in our guide book and tried to explain where it was to the driver and one of his drunken cronies, but they had absolutely no idea what we were talking about and dropped us at the front doors of the Morija Hospital. Thankfully a friendly old chap of a security guard was on hand and he happily walked us a short distance in the pitch black of night to a place he knew where we could pitch our tent. For the second time in a day, and umpteenth time in Lesotho we'd been on the good end of local hospitality that without, well who knows...The place turned out to be an ecumenical hall for some religious order in which hundreds of kids were attending a conference of some sort. Ofcourse the two whities setting up their tent in the midst of all their huts soon became the conference. We managed to find some t/a dinners of chicken, veges, rice and fat cakes from a small canteen in town, but barely had the energy to eat them. We fell asleep under yet another brilliant night sky that we were beginning to take for granted. We also made a point never to take warm nights for granted again and counted down the number of freezing nights we still had to endure before returning to the relative warmth of Durban and the coast.
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