South Africa (Garden Route & Zululand) - Nov 2008

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As I set off from the tip of another continent I still harboured some ambitions of making it as far as Cairo. And who knows, even home to London from there. But Charley Boorman and Obi Wan Kenobi have stolen my thunder somewhat. Mind you, they did have The Force with them (ie. 1200cc of engine force). Whereas my 2 wheels were not going to turn themselves. But in my favour I had a mighty strong tailwind to push me along the South African coastline, along with a little help from my friends. Plenty of people were driving a similar route and would offer (or be asked) to carry my bags to my next destination. So with my belongings entrusted in complete strangers I could set off carrying little weight, except some valuables, water, a banana or two (nature's Red Bull) and a can of Red Bull in case nature came up short.

Much of the stretch of coast between Cape Town and Port Elizabeth is referred to as the Garden Route. This hyped up coastal trail is a highly sought after place to reside. Many of the world's rich and famous own properties here. If you like beach resort after holiday home after retirement village then the Garden Route is for you. There is some stunning scenery en route but overall it was not really my cup of caffeine-based energy drink.

Before hitting the coast road (the N2 highway), I diverted via Stellenbosch and Franschoek and the rest of the wine regions of Western Cape province. In the mid-afternoon heat and already a little weak with exhaustion, I set about sampling winery after winery before swaying back into Stellenbosch stellar-sloshed. I tipsily set up camp for the night. That first night in my tent, I suddenly realised why people travel with a sleeping bag or a jumper, let alone shoes or a towel. I told myself the first thing I'd do when I woke up would be invest in some warm accesories. But the next morning was steaming hot again, so I put it off.

As I met local people along the way in the Western and Eastern Cape provinces, they were not as outwardly friendly or warm welcoming as had been the case in Asia, for example. But nor did I encounter any hostility as I was warned to beware. Just indifference to my presence. The only incident of any note was when some kids fired a slingshot full of glass pellets in my general direction as I cycled through a township. But they mainly just grazed off.

After a few nights camping I treated myself to a night in a hostel. This hostel was called the "Rainbow Hostel" and flew a rainbow flag to emphasise the point. I didn't think twice about any connotations, after all this is the Rainbow nation. Of course, it was a gay hostel. It seems so obvious now I look back at it. Ironically it was the first night I hadn't been camping it up all week. Now, I can't be 100% sure I was the only straight guy in the hostel, as I didn't carry out a survey, but everyone else certainly ticked the stereotypical gay boxes. As it happens I was very well looked after and had a great night out, although I spent much of the evening insisting I honestly wasn't persuadable and palming off comments about my legs and butt from cycling. When I left they offered me the rainbow flag to fly from the back of my bike. I politely declined.

And so the journey went on. Skipping from town to town. Ostrich riding in Oudtshoorn. Sleeping on the beach in Mossel Bay. Surfing in Jeffrey's Bay. Bungy jumping in Bloukrans. At 216 metres from atop Bloukrans bridge, this is sold as the highest commercial bungy jump in the world. Which it is, but it's not the longest descent, for which the award goes to The Nevis in New Zealand (done that one too!!).

After finishing the Garden Route I reached Port Elizabeth and then onto Durban. Durban is the third largest city in South Africa, halfway up the east coast and one of Africa's main trading ports with a large harbour. But Durban didn't really rock my boat. It took me 3 hours of cycling around the city before I was able to find a hostel, due in no small part to the fact I was using a 1999 edition travel guide and either the streets had changed their names or the hostels no longer existed. The city seemed to lack soul and had no distinguishable heartbeat. Even the star attraction, the uShaka Aquarium, was overly underwhelming with its murky water, unfinished exhibitions and even the crazy golf was closed for renovations. At least I was admitted on a child's ticket. Durban has a strong Indian influence and the local speciality is Bunny Chow - a curry served inside a loaf of bread. It's not actually rabbit meat though, but still tasty.

The province north of Durban is KwaZulu Natal - or Zululand. Here I found the people were so much friendlier than further south. As I cycled through villages I'd be greeted by lines of High 5's from beside the road and almost everyone would shout "Hi" at me - though it could have been "Why?".

Zululand has many Game reserves, which I made my targets for reaching each evening. Many of these are home to the renowned "Big 5" - or a more simple way of remembering them, the "Big Jackson 5" - there is Jermaine the Lion - king of the jungle (or Big Brother house); Tito the Buffalo; Jackie the Elephant - the big guy; Marlon the Leopard - rarely sighted; and of course Michael the Rhino - difficult to tell if Black or White and with a strange growth on the nose. I was not sure if I'd be allowed to cycle through the parks, in particular those that hold the big cats who would probably see me as a tempting giant human kebab on a bike skewer - especially if they'd just rocked out the pub after a few beers. But I had a contingency plan. I would arm myself with a porcupine at either end of the bike - there is a famous picture of a pride of lions going up to a couple of porcupines, prodding them, then running for the hills. I was also going to carry a couple of mongooses to fend of the snakes, chameleons to take care of the mozzies and a pair of yaks to keep me warm at night. I don't want to sound too self-absorbed, but think of me as a modern day Noah - or a Yakpacker if you will.

In the 4 parks I camped in, I only sighted 40% of the Big 5. But the camping itself was an amazing experience. Under the stars surrounded by the calls of nature. In one park I had the entire camp to myself. I cooked up a braai (a BBQ), whilst listening to the distant hyenas laugh at my culinary ineptitude. It's a universal truth that many a man who shies away from usual kitchen duties will push aside all others to take charge of a BBQ. I've noticed exactly the same alpha-male behaviour around British barbeques, Argentine asadas, Australian barbies and African braais. There is something cavemanic about roasting meat on an open fire that stimulates the Y-chromosome. It was an eerie night camping out alone in a Nature Reserve beside the fire, but well worth the slight unnerviness just for the opportunity to wake up and watch the sunrise surrounded by an arkful of African animals.

In another park, the St Lucia Wetlands, we were warned not to feed a combination of Hippo, Crocodile or Monkey. It was not made clear if this was 3 separate animals or the legendary Hippocrocomonk, a dangerous water-dwelling, tree-lurking meat banana scavenging predator. Artists impression to follow when I work out how to upload it.

Africa does have the superlatives of the animal kingdom: the tallest, the fastest, the biggest, the strongest, the heaviest, the trunkiest and the eariest - although the last 5 are all the elephant.

With the 2010 World Cup rapidly approaching, there is a lot of work going on to improve the roads. South Africa has the foundations of a half-decent transport infrastructure. The roads between the major cities seem useable with the rest varying from tolerable to shocking. There is a good public bus network, although the backpackers mode of choice seems to be the specialised and very popular "Baz Bus". This is a door to door hostel service. But the high price does not seem to justify the extra convenience. Either way, the Baz Bus total monopolises the travel industry here. There is also an expansive railway network in South Africa. Well, I should say, an expansive railway LINE network. I have cycled beside railway tracks for mile upon mile and for hour upon hour. But I have not seen a single train. They do run apparently. Infrequently and irregularly. It seems the trains are harder to sight than the leopards.

The next stops will be Swaziland & the Kruger Park, where I hope to complete a Big High 5 of Africa's most sought after mammals.

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Comments

[Your king]

high 5
If the porcupine's don't work make friends with the animals by letting then suckly on your saddle sores

[Pdidlin]

WARNING!
There are rumours aboyt of the most dangerous man eating lyrical animal of them all the.......... lesser known hiphopopotamus.