Travel with Manfred

Travelogues from around the world

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Copyright © 1997 by Manfred P.. All rights reserved.

Aug 26 till Sep 8, 1997

Nature and Thrill Rides

First Impressions on Places in Southern Africa

by

Manfred P.

Keywords: Republic of South Africa, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Johannesburg, Jo’burg, Pretoria, Drakensberg Mountains, Royal Natal National Park, Sentinel Peak, Witsieshoek, homeland, QwaQwa, Cape Town, Cape of Good Hope, Cape Point, Point Beach, Table Mountain, Lion’s Head, Zambezi River, Victoria Falls, hiking, tourist, travel trip report, travel log, travelogue.

Johannesburg

I also had the opportunity to visit a Jo’burg primary school and watch a school recital. There are various categories of state run schools at various price levels. Private schools are of course the most expensive option. Getting a kid into a particular good school can be a hard challenge. There are long waiting lists and it might take up to 2 years for a kid to be accepted after request for admission. On top of that you have to see the head of school personally. The school I visited was a better public one. That was easy to recognize as everybody in the auditorium was white. Afrikaans was the language used in school, but most kids here have English as a second language.

Drakensberg Mountains

Once we hit the border of Orange Freestate and KwaZulu/Natal the scenery changed. Orange Free State in the north is rather dry. The Vaal River, one of the countries largest, is now at the end of the dry season a mere 10 yards wide. KwaZulu/Natal is lower and wetter. Right on the province line the land starts dropping off. We descended the Oliviershoek Pass. Interestingly the water ascended. Mankind literally has reverted the flow of the river. Water is pumped and pushed uphill into the Sterkfontain Reservoir. The countryside changes considerably. Mountain peaks become more frequent, the mountain side are greener, the villages more traditional. Mountain tops are always flat like Table Mountain. The villages had now a mixture of round thatched huts and new rectangular houses. In the villages squatter camps were rare. It is a second class world nonetheless. Roads are all unpaved. Cattle and sheep are some of the belongings of the locals. The colors are rather vivid. The green of the countryside was rich and the blue in the sky dark - ready for rain.

It wasn’t long now and we reached our destination for the day: Royal Natal National Park. A family of baboons greeted us. On foot we continued into the Tugela Gorge. The scenery reminded me of Kauai. Steep rugged cliffs, narrow valleys, green - slightly tropical - vegetation. The Tugela River was nothing but a creek now. We followed it upstream. The trail is nice all the way through. I was told it is bland in the beginning but gets more interesting the deeper one gets into the gorge. Bland? Not to me, I loved it from the first sight. Everything was perfect. The air was as fresh as it can possibly get, the scenery beautiful, the temperature moderate, the pace good. My kind of world. The bonus point was the expectation of being rewarded with clean pools of water at the end of the trail. As we hiked, the valley got narrower and turned into a canyon. Eventually we left the trail and walked along the mostly dry river bed. The valley was no wider than 20 yards now. Another 20 minutes upstream we had drop our clothes as the only way forward was through the crystal clear water. The water was as cold as it was clear. So cold in fact, that my heart nearly stopped beating when I stepped into the water. We all swam through the pools, then we climbed a few boulders and ended up on a rock, 15 feet high - overlooking one of the pools. Eahh, splash, great adrenaline rush. One jump was enough though. I was shivering uncontrollably. It’s a spectacular spot. The canyon walls are 80 feet high, vertical and smoothed and polished by water. At the pools the canyon is only 5 to 10 yards wide. The water is drinking quality ... and we had all this beauty to ourselves. One will have to search hard to find a place that matches in loveliness.

It was 5 p.m. and the Mahai camp ground in the Royal Natal National Park is said to close at 6 p.m. We had no choice but to run all the way back in order to get the car into the camp ground before closing time. I didn’t mind at all. To the contrary, it was a welcome excuse to go for a jog. It was a gentle downhill run and we were just floating over the rocks and roots like the Greek god Hermes on his winged shoes. It was great. Our lungs filled deeply with the fresh air and the herb-like smell of the plants. The scenery delighted our eyes for the split seconds we could take them off the ground. Our bodies were comfortably warm again and our spirits were floating somewhere above us. We were alive and every cell of our body knew it. When we reached the car we were told that the camp ground no longer closes at 6 p.m. but is open all night. Surprise. The failure to know that was a good motivation.

The camp ground was fancy and we were living it up. Hot water, showers and anything else one could desire. Guinea fouls were running around and a nearby river was our drinking water. We stuffed ourselves with really tender beef seasoned and grilled to perfection and Burewurs (Boer sausages). The stars disappeared from the sky indicating clouds. We were in our sleeping begs in the tents by 9 p.m. Not too soon because it started raining. A thunderstorm was moving in. The seconds between the lightning and the thunder got smaller until for a single instance they occurred simultaneously. It was loud and bright. The rain didn’t want to stop. The last thing we heard before falling asleep were the raindrops. They were also the first thing we heard when the alarm went off at 4:40 a.m. We were planning on leaving at 5 in order to make it to the top of the mountains. The thought of getting up and out into the rain wasn’t very inviting. We pushed it out till 6 and when it was still raining at 6 we delayed it until 6:30. Like in a miracle it stopped raining. We jump out of the tent like stung by bees. We packed the tents in ten minutes and before we could place them in the trunk it was raining again. To escape the rain we jumped into the car as quickly as possible and we drove off.

We had a two hour drive to Witsieshoek in front of us. Somewhere near Witsieshoek and QwaQwa a homeland began. QwaQwa means "whiter than white" which doesn't refer to the skin color but to the white sandstone. The homeland was wide spread. It started reasonably nice with brick buildings and paved main roads. It started changing slowly. More trash lying around, shanty houses where families live on 9 square yards, flood light on long poles that look like out of a prison camp. Then the mud road started. It was terrible. Mud up to 10 inches high. Soon our windshield was covered with it as well. Squatter camps to the left and right and as far as the eye could see. Whenever we asked for directions we hear "yes, yes". The people here don't speak English. We could have asked "Are you a millionaire?" and would have received the same "yes, yes" as answer. The mud road forked a few times and when we asked for direction people pointed in some direction. In between I felt a wee bit squeezy in my stomach. For whites hanging out in a homeland is not the safest thing. But at least there was five of us. After driving for half hour in the mud, me having an adrenaline rush because of the high speed we are traveling and nearly getting stuck once we finally met someone who spoke English. He filled us in on a few things: that we were lost, that we are just a mile from the border gates to Lesotho, that we need to turn around and go all the way back to the paved road. We remembered how to get back and aside from the moment where we drifted sideways through the mud it was uneventful. We then had to go a few miles on the paved road before it turned into a mountain dirt road again. It had stopped raining but the misty clouds were so thick we couldn't see a thing. Nonetheless we were sure that next to the dirt road were steep cliffs. It was an adventurous ride to the parking lot on top. I am sure if I was the only one that was glad we made it.

We started hiking on the mist. Our goal was the top of the Amphitheater that is flanked by Sentinel Peak and Devil's Tooth. Within half hour walking the view cleared up. I am such a lucky guy. The weather is always on my side whenever I really need it. Sentinel Peak (about 9500 ft) was right in front of us. A nice sight. We could see far into the distance. Beneath us was Sterkfontain Reservoir. Quicker than expected we reached the Amphitheater plateau at 9000 feet. Close to the top where the chain ladders start it got windy and cold. On the plateau it was freezing. Patches of snow were lying around and Mont-aux-Sources (ca. 9800 ft) was sugar coated. People, including a group of youngsters, had spent the night up here. I am glad I wasn't one of them. It was cold enough in the valley. We crossed the flat plateau. The Tugela River rises here. It is a tiny creek and you can jump across it. In the middle of the Amphitheater the Tugela falls over the cliffs forming a waterfall. We were standing on the edge watching the water drop. It was no wonder that our swim yesterday was cold. The Tugela runs through a small snow field up here. We couldn't stand it at the edge for long. It was simply too cold. We were all in shorts and needed shelter from the wind. Behind some rocks and bushes we found it. We had our well deserved lunch and we needed all the calories we could get to keep our bodies warm. It must have been 2 or 3 degrees above freezing. After the meal we felt a lot better. We through a last glance down into the Tugela Gorge and at Devil's Tooth. In summer the meadow-like plateau is dotted with tents and a guard is up here to protect the visitors from raids from Lesotho. The hike down was welcome. With every step it seemed to get warmer. The clouds were all gone by now and the view is unlimited. In mid afternoon we made it back to the car. Ahead of us was just a long drive back and then a hot bath at the hotel. It was a great weekend and the most beautiful country side I have seen in South Africa so far.

Cape Town

I get off the plane and Cape Town is in party fever. Only 5 more days till the announcement if Cape Town will host the 2004 Olympic Games. The hopes are high. The newspapers seem to be writing about two topics only: Lady Di's death and the pros and cons of the Olympic Games in Cape Town. The bid supporters hope that the games will bring foreign and domestic cash into the city, create new jobs and will lead to a boom. The opponents fear that it will change their beloved city, that it will cause more construction of hotels and highways and that it will make their life miserable due to traffic jams, crowds, etc. If the games were to take place here it would be a big mess. This would also be true for other candidate cities. Independent of the outcome there will be a big party in the city.

The weather wasn't too nice. A south easterly wind from the Antarctica can hit Cape Town hard. Only walking around in the city kept me warm. Cape Town is extremely wide spread. There are many suburbs and bordering cities. It can easily take you an hour to drive from a northern suburb to a southern one. 3.7 million people are said to live here. Only from the high viewpoints can one get a grasp of Cape Town's size and spread. The center of town however is small. Half a day of walking is enough to see most of it. The nights were crisp. I had to put on most of my clothing to stay warm. But the air was fresh and clean.

The first morning it rained which gave me a perfect excuse to sleep in. When it stopped raining I wanted to hike Signal Hill as a warm-up via a short-cut trail. The trail wasn't obvious and when I asked about it I got the standard answer "Oh, we have never done that. That's too dangerous, you must follow the main road." With that I lost my interest in Signal Hill. Instead, I set my goals higher: Table Mountain. It was cloud covered - the famous table cloth. There were three possibilities:

• I would get to the top and it would rain again and I would be all soaked and freezing.
• I would get to the top and it would be all sunny.
• Nothing would change. I would be in clouds once on the top.

It was 5:15 p.m. when I reached the bottom of Table Mountain. Lion's Head is said to be a 1 to 1.5 hours climb. That would make it 2 to 3 hours round trip, but it gets dark at a quarter past 6. The challenge was there; the race was one. I started jogging up Lion's Head. Half way up the terrain changed. Jogging wasn't possible anymore, a real climb started. I started to get worried and nervous. I was also getting tired and one wrong move could lead to a bad fall. Nobody wants to try this climb down in the dark. Certainly not me. Should I turn around? The top looked close. Okay, let’s go for it. Of course, when I reached what I thought was the "top", it turned out to be just some edge on the way to the top. The real top was further up. Even more worried I pushed on. The view from the top was fantastic. 360 degrees. Sea Point, Clifton and all the other beaches on one side, the Table Mountain and City Bowl on the other. To top it off the sun was setting over the ocean. I quickly let me eyes wander and then the fast descent started. Once I was outside the climbing area I knew I had worried unnecessarily. While it gets dark at 6:15 in the city center primarily due to Lion's Head; on the west side of Lion's Head there is light for another 30 minutes. It wasn't pitch dark until I reached the paved main road. From there it is just another half hour stroll to the city center. I was high on endorphins. Both mind and body felt great. On the leisurely stroll to the hostel during which I joyfully hummed various melodies that shot through my head I thought about the great dinner I would enjoy next and the great fruit juice I would pour down my throat. South Africa has the best selection of fresh juices anywhere: passion, mango, papaya, grape, and more. I deserved the best now because in typical Manfred-style I had done all of the hikes without food or drinks. It was a lovely day and I was still high when I fell asleep.

On an organized day tour I circled the Cape. It started with the Victoria and Alfred Harbour, a mix of working harbor, mall and hotel complex. It a fashionable in place at the moment and mostly whites come here to shop and/or dine. Interestingly an old prison on V&A was converted into a hotel. Don't expect a room with a sea view when you check in. There are hardly any windows. From there we drove southbound along Millionaires Lane named after the price tags of the apartments. A 2-bedroom apartment goes for US$350,000. In return you might get an ocean view, a jogging path along the coast and white sand beaches with a cold Atlantic. Parts of this drive I have also done at night before, but it's definitely nicer during daytime. Seal island is just a few hundred yards offshore. Thereafter the road hugging the shore climbs upwards and gives us a view over a larger area. Along the way we also stop at a small beach with penguins. They seem to be used to tourists. Some had offspring just a few weeks old. These small tuxedo wearing animals were unimpressed by camera lenses and the guard made sure that the tourists kept at least a foot of distance.

The most famous spots along the coast are Cape of Good Hope and Cape Point. The coast is rough and the waves are pounding against the rocks. The water is green and so is the vegetation. Precipitation seems to be plentiful and the flora rich in species. It's another place ideally suited to gaze out at the horizon and to think about absolutely nothing. If that gets too boring one can always watch the waves or the baboons. The currents are tricky here, they say, and a map shows where all the shipwrecks are. Just around the corner from Cape Point is False Bay named after Bartholomew Diaz's incorrect believe that he had rounded the Cape and could head north again in the Indian Ocean. He nearly shipwrecked before he recognized that this is just another large bay. The name of False Bay stuck to indicate Diaz's false belief. But that has happened a long time ago, more than 500 years. 1488 if I remember correctly. There is a simple monument reminding us of him in the Cape National Park. A second similar looking monument is for Vasco da Gamma.

Continuing along the coast we got to Fishhoek - another beach resort in off-season. Local mums brought their kids to the beach to play. The water is still cold, 55F (13 degrees C). Sticking my feet into the water was okay, but swimming - no thank you. A coastal path connects Fishhoek with the neighboring town. In the same bay we spotted 5 whales one of which was waving at us playfully with its tail fin.

The last stop on the tour was Kirstenbosch Botanical Garden. The first impressions is the sheer size. You can do a full day hike in the garden. It encompasses waterfalls, creeks, the backside of Table Mountain and thousands of different plants. Everything was in top shape, well maintained and very inviting. There wasn't time to see 1000 plants but there was time to lie down on top of a hill will manicured English lawn and roll down the hill. It didn't take long and I was completely dizzy. So much in fact that I couldn't get up on the bottom. Things just kept on circling around me. I hadn't done that since I was a kid. I knew I was missing something. If I come back I'll have to spend a whole day at Kirstenbosch.

On Friday the Olympic bid went to Athens. A loss to many supporters of Cape Town as Olympic host city. That means that the freeways that stand in Cape Town half finished since 1975 might not be continued and completed after all.

Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe and Zambia

Without wasting time I went for the main attraction: Victoria Falls. Livingston was the first white to ever see the thundering waters. That was in 1855. A lot has changed since then. But more about that later. The form of the falls is unusual. Maybe that is why they are called one of the nine tourist wonders of the world. The Zambezi is a mighty river, not very deep but more than a mile (1.7 km) wide. Over the full mile it is falling vertically an average height of 330 ft (100 meters). After the fall the Zambezi doesn't continue as a wide river but as a wild river that flows through a narrow valley that zigzags downstream. After we had Devil's Tooth at Drakensberg Mountains and Devil's Peak at the Table Mountain I wasn't surprise to find one portion of the falls called Devil's Cataract. The next day I should learn that one of the Zambezi rapids is named Devil's Toilet Bowl. The devil seems to play an important role in southern Africa. Why else would they name everything after him.

Every section of the falls has a special name. The main falls are 111 meters high. The eastern portion of the falls is completely dry. This has several reasons: now is dry season; the hydro-power plant that the Zambians built; and every year there is simply less precipitation. 1988 was the last time there was lots of water in the Zambezi. That most likely means that all postcards in the curio shops are a decade old as they show water also at the east end of the falls. Rainbows are everywhere. The spray water provides the necessary conditions for a colorful display. The spray water also acts as a cooling air conditioner. There supposedly is a rain forest next to the falls. I think that is rather an exaggeration. Under a forest I understand a wooden area bigger than just a few trees. Right after the falls where the canyon starts is the famous Victoria Falls Bridge across the Zambezi connecting Zambia and Zimbabwe. Once it was only a rail road bridge but today of course it carries also trucks, cars and pedestrians. As I was whiling away time on the bridge a steam train puffed by. Just like in the good ol' days when the rich and royal Brits came here by train and stayed at the Edwardian Vic Falls Hotel which still is one of the grand hotels in town. It has a lovely view of the bridge and of a small portion of the falls. Inside the hotel along the stair case is a less lovely view of stuffed animal heads. The nicest spot was actually the garden that was filled with the perfume of blooming flowers.

As the village of Vic Falls is small it didn't take long to explore it after sunset. The nights weren't much cooler than the daytime. I was just lying on top of my sheets in my own sweat trying to fall asleep. Officially the winter just ended last week. I don't want to know what it is like in the middle of summer.

On the next day I got up early to catch a full day rafting tour. The Zambezi is said to be the whitest water in the world. (Why didn't they then name it QwaQwa?) One should always be careful with superlatives. However, the rafting world championships take place here annually. Rapids go up to grade 6. Since it is illegal - even in Zambia and Zimbabwe - to do grade 6 rapids commercially, on grade 6 rapids the rafts will be carried. Having said that, I do believe the Zambezi belongs to the world's finest rafting spots. Bright and early at 7:30 a.m. we left by truck for Zambia. I gang up with a German couple and a group of French. The fun starts with the climb down to the river right where the falls end. After the usual legal paper work - "Yes, I am suicidal and nobody is to blame if I die" - and some instructions we are off. We start at the Boiling Pot and do a few warm-up rapids before getting to the bridge. Here the fun really starts and this is where I stop describing the ride. You have to see it to understand. Words like awesome, phenomenal and 'way cool' wouldn't be able to do the truth justice. Seeing is believing. The 12 ft (4 meter) long rafts are flipped sideways, flipped backwards, thrown through the air, folded, and spun around like toys. One second you see a raft with 8 or 10 people, the next you see an empty raft calmly go downstream; or more likely upside down with a few people holding on to the sides. The personal high lights were the 3 flips. Devil's Toilet Bowl was the best. The raft is lifted slightly in the front and flips to the left. I go flying through the air. Then it all gets dark and I get tossed around in random directions. I instantaneously lose the sense of direction. Since I can't see anything and don't know where to go I just hang loose and start counting. An eternity later - maybe 3 seconds in reality - I think: How much longer do I have to count before I get out of this mess? Black starts mixing with white colors, but I am still under water. Then I feel somebody's leg in my face. What a relief. The easing thought of not being the only one in trouble shot through my mind. Next I am in the white water and I start gasping for air two or three times. Each time I swallow lots of water. Then I am under water again. I tried with my arms to swim and stay on top - to no avail. Something pulled me under. When I get up and my head out of the water again, the swallowing repeats itself. This time I can stay on top but I get overrun by a few waves and I take a few more involuntary "sips" of the sewage enriched Zambezi. Since the poor water quality doesn't kill the elephants it won't kill me either (I hope). That was the first flip with a long swim. Rapid 12b, The Older Sister, kicked us next. I was in for another long swim, but I drank significantly less of the Zambezi than before. The toughest (legal) rapid is 18, Oblivion. We flipped again to the left. I am under water again. Not long and I feel something rubbery. Then I don't remember anything until I am holding on to the raft. Minutes later I was told that I misused somebody by holding on to his life jacket. I must have confused the raft and the life jacket while under water. 18 was also the final rapid. We had done about 16 miles (25 km) of the river in the day. While we, the tourists, only had to carry helmet and paddle out of the canyon, the locals had to carry the rafts and everything else. In between the fun we had a few smooth stretches that allowed us to enjoy the scenery. The canyon was all brownish with trees and bushes, some of the canyon walls were black cliffs and the top of the canyon had occasionally strange rock formations like raised warning fingers. Maybe these are the signs of Nyaminyami, the Zambezi River God who had mercy on us today.

On the truck ride home through Zambia's dirt roads, a few groups of kids from the local villages were lining the road. The rafting guides threw them junks of ice from our ice chest that kept the beer and soda cold. The kids were going bonkers, running after the truck and picking up the ice junks from the dirt. They were going after them like they were nuggets of gold. A rather strange spectacle.

In the evening we all gathered again in the only night club in town to view the video of the day. It was done very professionally. Quick short cuts, underlain with fast rock music and done in a humorous way. It was amazing. On video it looked even better and more intense than in reality. Maybe that is because in reality things happen so quick that they are often not noticeable. Seeing a flip in slow motion is an additional kick and you get to watch all the others and how they are flying through the air. Hilarious, a good show where we all were the actors.

The German couple then seduced me to spend the rest of the night in the night club and mostly on the dance floor. We did all the oldies like "YMCA" and the typical international music from the billboard charts.

While "the early bird catches the worm" is not my kind of attitude, today I had to get up early to see some wildlife. I didn't have to go far. Just 200 yards from the camp site I stumbled over a herd of elephants. The two bulls just uprooted a large tree and started to go for the leaves and branches. All of this just 8 yards from me. Yes, this is Africa. Another group of 6 elephants are another 20 yards away. I slowly bring some more distance between me and the elephants, just to run into the next herd of animals. About 8 buffaloes. These are said to be the most unpredictable animals. The distance is 15 yards and there is a couple of bushes in between. So, I feel okay. The trail leads upstream along the Zambezi, above the falls. I now know why the farmers hate the elephants. In their wake they leave a path of destruction. Trees broken like matches, other uprooted, etc. The two to three hour walk was rewarded with some kudus, impalas, a few types of monkeys and lots of elephant dung. The morning sun was sparkling on the calm Zambezi. It was peaceful. I only heard the birds. It was another scorcher of a day.

At 10 a.m. I had a bungi jumping appointment with the German couple on the bridge. I watched a couple of jumps including a somersault from a crew member. As by 11 the Germans were still no-shows, I decided to go ahead and just do it. I had canned my trip to Harare just to do this bungi jump. So I had to do it. The two guys in front of me wouldn't jump. The first was an Indian doctor, most likely from the US. With a white knuckle death grip he held on to the railing and couldn't let go. They tried 3 times, gave him lots of time. It didn't help. His survival instinct told him not to jump and he couldn't overcome that mental hurdle. The second was an African and he also couldn't overcome this inner hurdle. Now it was my turn.

I went to the registration office at the end of the bridge and pulled my credit card out. I was committed now. From this point on everything went fast and I acted like a robot. I think my brain was completely turned off. I was a preprogrammed machine on a mission. No independent thought or feeling was allowed. I was so calm, I couldn't believe it. I had expected that my heart would pound like crazy, but no. My heart beat was barely above normal. As the crew put the towels around my ankles I made a few jokes to the video man. Before I knew it I had left the safety of the area behind the railing and was standing on the platform. I was standing on Victoria Falls Bridge and in front of me was 121 yards (111 meters) of nothing. 111 m of thin air between me and the Zambezi River. If things work out fine I should go into rebound just 10 m above the water. On the 100 m drop the top speed of the free fall is 75 mph (120 km/h). That is about 30 percent faster than the speed limit on US freeways. My toes look over the edge. A quick left turn and smile for a photo, the same for the video camera. I am still calm, maybe in shock. Now the count down starts. Five, four. Holy shit, fear sets in. I am not so sure anymore that I can jump. Three, two. Now I know why they count so fast. The count down is less than 2 seconds, but it is agonizing. I get dizzy. Will I be able to push myself off? Seconds before I would have bet anything that I will jump with no hesitation. Now I am not so sure anymore. One, bungi. Jump! Two seconds of fear was not long enough to get me out of this automatic robot behavior. Hands wide apart I push myself off. Head first, I race towards the canyon floor. I scream. Eyes and mouth wide open; there is enough time to enjoy the free fall. Fear has long gone. It is pure enjoyment now. I feel relaxed and comfortable as I fall. The position is graceful, like embracing the world. I am at peace and feel free. The pull on my legs as I hit the lowest spot tells me that most of the fun is over. I stop screaming as I go for the rebound that brings me up on the other side of the Victoria Falls Bridge. I am looking forward to the going down part again. Another short free fall in the same position. On the second rebound I see the platform and wave. Two thumbs up for the crew. The platforms seems far away. Another 2 or 3 free falls and rebounds, each shorter than the predecessor. Then I am hanging head down on the rope enjoying the scenery. Now I have it out of my system. Seen it, been there, done it. Part of my no-regrets policy. Back on the bridge I watch a few more people do the bungi jump before I walk to the registration place to watch my own plunge on video. Awesome, the before, the push off, the scream, the thumbs up, the white water on the bottom. All from two angles, one from the bridge and the other from the canyon rim with a semi-frontal view. Great fun, but too short. Now that I've done it I don't have to do it for a long time. There are only few people that can say they have jumped deeper or in a more beautiful spot.

It was noon and the heat was brutal. Time for siesta. In the evening I went hiking again. Sunset in the bush was on the agenda. On my way to the river I see the same group of buffaloes from the morning. The illegally fishing locals tell me that they just ran away from a group of elephants. Another 10 minutes upstream I spot them. They are on an island 30 yards off the riverbank. The young ones are playing, one is halfway in the water and eating the water plants while the two biggest are breaking off branches and indulging in leaves. They are in no hurry, just another slow paced dinner. Meanwhile the sun is setting. It isn't ceremonial or memorable. The sun just disappears behind the bush. Hundreds of birds are skillfully swooping over the Zambezi feeding on the 1000s of small flies and mosquitoes. The frogs and the water provide the music. The elephants eventually get bored and start proceeding to the next island towards the center of the stream. The biggest ones lead the way. That baby in the back. They make it midway by just getting their feet wet. Then it gets deeper and they actually have to swim. My attention span is too short to watch them all reach the other island. It is getting dark and I turn around to head back. I hear some noise in the bush and stop. I look intensely but I can't spot anything. More noise. There has to be something there, maybe buffaloes. Then eventually I spot it. An elephant bull, 40 yards away. The gray of the bush, the gray of the elephant and the gray of the setting night all blend making it nearly impossible to see the elephant which has all the time been right in front of me. There were only 6 on the island but I had seen 8 this morning. So this is one of the remaining ones. It is really getting dark now. I follow the road towards town when 5 yards from me a buffalo appears out of the dark. No bush or anything between us. Ooh. That is certainly more dangerous than the bungi jump. I didn't get worried though. Must be my stupidity or ignorance. Somehow I didn't think that today could be my last day. I cautiously walk by and nothing happens. Just my lucky day I guess.

An outstanding two weeks came to an end. This vacation had a lot of first and memorable moments: mud sliding through a homeland by Witsieshoek, freezing our behind off on top of the Amphitheater in Drakensberg Mountains, being high on endorphins after the pressure of Lion's Head, rolling down a hill in Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens, swallowing lots of the Zambezi River after seconds of darkness in the whitest of white water, adding a bungi jump to my "done that" list, and a lot more. The one word summary: Lekker.

PS: Thanks to my travel partners Alan, Judith, and Thomas. Last thing before I forget it, pass me that Zambezi-rafting-guide sign-up list please.