Return to
Homepage -
14th
Anzie flew in midnight Friday after a successful week in Niger. She's resting up as I write.
I just finished my first week on the job at the Embassy. As I am now your humble public servant, paid with your tax dollars, I thought you might be interested to know what I've been doing for your hard-earned dollars.
I'm working in the GSO Housing Dept. We - there are five of us - are responsible for locating living quarters for incoming U.S. employees of the Embassy, USAID and a couple of other related organizations. We also coordinate clean-up and fix-up of quarters between occupants.
Even though this is a part-time position I worked in excess of 40 hours this first week doing mostly OJT. I spent most of my time on the computer streamlining several reports. I'm no computer guru, but it turns out that I'm better than most. I have to thank Anne and Asahi for my expertise.
My counterpart, Dienaba, pronounced Jenaba, is a buxom black Mauritanian with a great sense of humor. Married to an American, she's been on the job for about three months. So she's teaching me. We've been out a couple of times to visit properties to do final walk-throughs to make sure all work is complete and everything functions before the new tenants move in. We also visited a new apartment building with a realtor to see if it suited our needs. We measured the living space, checked for adequate storage space (Most houses here don't have much closet space. They use armoires. Americans like built-in closets.), did a security check.
Security is important at all U.S. installations these days. When I drive into the Embassy compound I must turn off the car and give the keys to the guard. Two guards inspect the car. They open the hood and the trunk. They inspect the undercarriage with a mirror. Finally they take a paper disc and rub it around the steering wheel, the sideview mirrors, the front and rear edges of the car. I asked, "What's that for?" Answer: "Anthrax".
Ya gotta love it.
Played poker Friday night with a bunch from the Embassy: 13 guys, two women. I lost $15. Lousy cards all night, plus we had eight people playing at our table! Oh well, I had the chance to meet some new people. Besides, it's always good strategy to lose the first time you play with new people. There will be other nights. I must consider it an investment.
Since I arrived in Africa I've tried to learn something about African Art -- not paintings but sculpture, masks, wood carving and the like. Saturday night we were invited to a gallery that featured African Art. Corey, an American artist whom I'd met once before, is in business with a Senegalese. His partner does the buying. Corey does most of the selling. As a "toubab" (white person) he has found that his partner can get much lower prices.
Corey taught me a lot in one evening. He showed us these beautifully carved wall posts. They are used to hold up the roof beams in a thatched hut. These items are primarily from Southern, Central and East Africa. Apparently West Africa is not known for wood carving. The masks are amazing. Some cover the whole head (helmet masks). Some masks start two feet above the head and end around the shinbone.
Anne and I head to South Africa for two weeks starting Tuesday, Sept. 16. We'll be back Sept. 30. Should have plenty to write you about by then.
A la prochaine,
16th
Meet Jumbo. He’s one of two guides on our sunset Bush Walk in Kruger National Park – South Africa. A strapping 6’5” white Namibian, He looks like Central Casting’s choice for the role of Great White Hunter. Our other guide is an attractive 23-year old brunette named Syska. They both carry rifles.
Pretoria
- Our First Afrikaners
I
tried not to carry any preconceived notions as we landed at Johannesburg airport
on September 16. But it was a
surprise. It’s so modern and
clean. The Jo’Burg Airport is
like O’Hare without the walking. Everything
is so convenient. The walk from
baggage claim to the car rental office to the car is a short one.
The
problem was starting the car. Car
theft is a big problem here. In
order to start the car you have to insert this plastic piece into a slot.
When
the light stops blinking you can start the car with the key.
In
South Africa you drive on the left. Therefore
everything in the car is reversed. The
steering wheel is on the right. The
gearshift is on the left. The turn
signal is located on the right of the steering wheel.
I don’t know how many times that I turned on the windshield wipers to
signal a turn.
First stop was the home of Gene Peuse, Anzie’s counterpart in Southern Africa. Gene has worked in this position for three years. Born in Iowa, he has worked for many years in Africa. His warm, attractive wife, Gatti, is Tanzanian. They have two sons.
Gene
guided us over to the Seiler Bed & Breakfast Lodge.
Anne and I ate a buffet dinner at a common table together with Mrs.
Seiler, son Karl and five other Afrikaners.
We discovered that Afrikaners are great meat eaters, and justifiably so.
The lamb was terrific. I
began to compare conditions in Senegal to those in South Africa.
What they call lamb in Senegal tastes like it must have died of natural
causes, like Alzheimers. This lamb
was tender. For dessert we had a
heavenly trifle. I had two
helpings.
Afrikaner
men for the most part look large and well fed.
Rugby is their national sport. You’ve
probably heard of their national team, the Springboks.
Interestingly enough, Black Africans prefer Football/Soccer.
Afrikaners are a loud, brash bunch with no pretensions.
They are friendly to strangers, but you have to make the first move.
The
dinner conversation was lively. One
openly gay man had just moved from Capetown.
He had many good travel tips for our upcoming visit there.
The
conversation turned to the recent anniversary of 9/11.
I didn’t realize how many South Africans lost their lives in the Twin
towers disaster. Everyone spoke of
how they had been affected by the event. A
professor from a university in Port Elizabeth on the southeast coast asked us
respectfully what we would say to the charge that Americans are arrogant.
Anne spoke up immediately, “Of course we’re arrogant, but naively so.
We as a people just can’t seem to understand why other people don’t
like us. Never mind that we
maintained a military presence in Saudi Arabia way longer than our host
nationals ever dreamed.”
“Others
call us imperialists. But we’re
not like other aggressor nations. They
conquer a country and never leave. We
subdue a country. Then we fix it
up, put all the chairs back in order, and then we leave the country to govern
itself. Call it ‘Imperialism Lite’.
We want to be liked!”
Woke
up the next morning having slept under a blanket for the first time in months.
It was cool. It’s early Spring on this side of the equator.
Johannesburg lies about on a latitude with Santiago, Chile.
Spring flowers are just beginning to bloom.
Had
breakfast with the Seiler family: eggs any style, bacon, sausage and smoked fish
poached in cream. Delicious!
Off
to Kruger
Took
off for Kruger National Park, a four-hour drive.
The roads are phenomenal. No
potholes here. Speed limit is 80
mph. The countryside resembles
Northern California – Hayward out to Sacramento.
Rolling hills covered with what Californians describe as “golden”
grasses. Leaves are an olive green.
The winter was unusually dry. The
rainy season really wasn’t. It
rained for 1 ½ days during our trip, and made quite a difference.
The
gas stations are run some familiar names – Shell, Total.
They are modern and immaculate. Their
convenient stores feature “biltong”, South African jerky made from a variety
of meats including ostrich.
We
stopped in Nelspruit, about three hours outside of Pretoria, to buy groceries.
The SPAR supermarket would put most U.S. markets to shame.
Anzie just stood there open-mouthed in awe of all the fresh produce,
fruit and cheeses. South Africans
barbeque a lot. They call it “braai”.
Such a selection of meats and poultry en brochette we’ve never seen.
We bought lambchops and three pairs of chicken brochettes spiced
different ways.
We
went next door to the liquor store. We
bought a selection of white and red wines at $1.25 – 1.70 a bottle. They were all excellent!
It
took us another hour to arrive at the Crocodile Bridge Gate to Kruger.
The park is enormous - the size of Israel.
We entered at the southern end. Within
two miles of the entrance we spotted a sleeping rhino.
Actually “Sharp-Eyed Anzie” spotted it.
I thought it was a rock.
Our
30-mile trip took almost three hours as we “road-hunted” for game. We spotted lots of impala – deer with racing stripes.
They are beautiful animals. The
males sport antlers that twist as they grow.
Impala are so numerous that we didn’t even slow down to watch them
after a while.
Then
there were bush pigs – wild boar - and a herd of huge water buffalo. As the herd crossed the road, one stopped in front of us and
eyed us belligerently. I put the
car in reverse gear, just in case. Thankfully
he followed his buddies.
Lower Sabie Camp
We
arrived at our first camp, Lower Sabie, aptly named as it is situated on the
banks of the Sabie river. The main
lodge overlooks a series of river pools wherein many hippos and crocodiles
reside. Both were huge! The crocs went 9-12 feet in length.
Our
bungalow was located on the riverbank. With
gin and tonics in hand we watched the hippos and crocs cavort.
Actually, they didn’t cavort much.
They mostly maintained position. Those
hippos are a noisy bunch! Their
grunts and roars kept us awake … for about 15 minutes.
It became our standing joke. Whenever
one of us passed gas, we exclaimed: “Hippo!”
We
met Pindy the next morning at 5:30. Pindy
was our guide for a Morning Drive. You’ve
probably seen pictures of the safari truck – tall with canvas sides, open at
the top, bench seats. That was our
mode of transportation. Pindy began
her introduction by belaboring the need for us all to start our three-hour trip
with empty bladders. It was our
last chance. Since it was dangerous to pee "au nature",
Into
our third hour we could tell that even Pindy was a bit frustrated. We were traveling down a dirt road with nary an animal in
sight when up ahead we spied something lying alongside the road.
Pindy shouted out “Yes!" and pounded the steering wheel.
Cheetah! These were two of
only 200 in the Park, the first cheetah she had seen in three months. We were
able to come up alongside them before they stood up, posed together very
photogenically, and then strolled off. Gorgeous,
sleek animals with their telltale black teardrop mark descending from the corner
of the eye. (For photos see
directions below) They can attain a speed of 60 mph for about 300 yards.
Then they tire quickly.
We
were happy with the results of our “Drive”.
At
5 PM we met Pindy again for a night Drive.
There were only four of us on the morning Drive.
Now we had two full trucks, about 24 people. After a beautiful sunset Pindy turned on the lights -
headlights plus two side spots. She
asked for two volunteers to operate the handheld spotlights.
Of course I volunteered. For the next 2 1/2 hours I was occupied with
scanning the port side of the truck for fauna.
Their
eyes gave them away. We could see
the reflected color from a long way off. A
bunch of green lights dancing in the distance signified a herd of impala.
Red eyes were hippo and rhino. Yellow
eyes were hyena, lions and other cats.
Hyenas
are despicable animals. Even their
carriage bespeaks mean underhandedness. They
walk with both head and rear end down like some smartass teenage slacker with an
attitude. Maybe I get this
stereotype from watching too many Disney movies, but they are scavengers after
all. They eat anything, even bones.
They eat so much bone that their scat is easily recognizable.
It's white. More on the
subject of scat later.
The
next morning we left Lower Sabie and began our meander north to our next camp -
Olifants. Half an hour out we came
upon a little mountain that looked to be worth a detour.
It was. At the top of the
mountain we arrived at a spot that overlooked a small lake.
It resembled the Garden of Eden. How
do I know? It was just the conglomeration of species all in seemingly peaceful
cohabitation: several elephants, kudu, impala, storks and other large birds.
We took a dirt road that led us past two rhinos. Their hide really does remind one of armor plates. Saw herds of Burchell zebras. They have a grey "shadow" stripe between the black ones on their hindquarters. Zebras seem to couple up and hang close to one another.
At the Orpendam we saw the biggest crocodile. Had to be 20 feet long. It's hide resembled a series of unmortared bricks. It looked like Captain Hook's nemesis.
We
didn't get close enough, but if we did, I bet we could hear a clock ticking.
Stopped
for lunch at Satara Camp. Brought
our own, so we sat at a table
overlooking a grassy park. We were
accompanied by a variety of birds who shared our repast of dinner rolls --
crested grey lourie, blue-green cape glossy starling, redbilled helmetshrike -
black with orange eye. Simply
amazing to have these exotic birds to lunch.
We
continued our meander stopping at waterholes along the way.
At one point we stopped to look a huge bull elephant in the eye, only 12
feet away alongside the road. Here
we were without cage bars separating us -- he, nonchalantly wreaking havoc on an
acacia tree, while we snapped photos.
The
secret, so we are told, is to stay in the car.
The animals are used to the cars. They
see car. They smell car.
You're only in danger if you step out of the car.
We
had noticed many acacia trees that were either broken or uprooted. A full-grown acacia stands about ten feet tall.
The branches are covered with thorns. Some areas resembled the aftermath
of a hurricane, the landscape strewn with dead trees.
Elephants are the vandals. They
tear out the trees to eat the roots. Our
guides informed us that the elephant count is currently too high, as evidenced
by the census and the amount of devastation.
As a result the population is being "culled".
Elephants are transported to less populated areas of the park. Pindy, our bladder-fixated guide, recommends that they take
the vandal elephants to Zimbabwe, whose border adjoins Kruger.
"Let Mugabe deal with them."
Pindy doesn't think much of Mugabe, Zimbabwe's dictator president.
We
were just a few miles from the Mozambique border.
Apparently Kruger has no fences along the borders with Mozambique and
Zimbabwe. So the animals are
allowed to roam freely across the borders, sans passports. Unfortunately, the elephants seem to like it better in Kruger
than across the borders -- fewer poachers? So, overpopulation is a problem.
I'm
reminded of a Gary Larsen "Far Side" cartoon.
Two elephants talking in the Serengetti. One says to the other: " Sure life here is OK, but I'm
really looking forward to retirement at the San Diego Zoo."
We
took one long detour over rough, unpaved road without any terrific sightings
until we spied a large female elephant about 25 yards away.
We stopped, and she stopped. Then
we noticed a baby elephant walking in front of her on a path that intersected
our road. We could surmise that, if
we stopped our car right at the intersection, we could get a great shot of the
elephant coming right at us. The
big question was: how fast would they come?
I suddenly had a vision of an angry mama elephant removing our car from
her path. Avis wouldn't appreciate
the result. I moved out of the way.
In less than a minute both elephants crossed the road just behind our
car.
In
one more minute we were confronted by another Garden of Eden scene. It was cocktail time at the old water hole: giraffes, zebras,
impala and elephants all commingling after a rough day.
I'm sure one of them sighed, "It's a jungle out there."
It
made us think longingly of a gin & tonic at Olifants, our next camp.
Chuck & Anne
19th
Olifants
Camp
Our
Frommers Guide to South Africa states that Olifants camp is so popular that it
is "worth rearranging your trip" in order to reserve a bungalow.
As we turned into the entrance road a giraffe stood at the corner to
greet us. We took this as a good
omen. We ascended the winding road
until we reached the camp, which is situated on a bluff 300 ft. above a river
bed. Our round, thatched roof
bungalow #9 was located on a point of the bluff above a bend in the river.
Our view extended over a mile in either direction.
Our front veranda included a fully equipped kitchen. We watched all sorts of birds and animals come down to the
river for a drink. A kitchen
with a view. Amazing.
We had our cocktails watching a glorious sunset, barbequed chicken
brochettes, drank a nice bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, and went to bed.
Up
and at 'em early next morning for a 5:15 Drive.
With our guide, Stephen, we spotted our first lions, a pride of seven.
We then came upon three hyenas sauntering down the road with swollen
bellies after a successful night out. We
followed them to their den, a culvert under the road.
Stephen
showed us a hippo track. After
sunset hippos leave the water, which protects their sensitive skin from the sun,
and they travel inland to graze. They
always follow the same path with a shuffling gait.
Consequently the hippo track looks like someone rolled a beer barrel over
the earth. Very distinctive.
I
wouldn't want to be in their way during their evening stroll.
Hippos aren't known for their friendly disposition.
Of all the four-legged beasties we had the pleasure to spot, hippos are
responsible for more human deaths than any other.
We
also came upon five elephants, including one baby that was suckling at its
mother's breast. Beautiful!
Our
First Kill:
We stood on a bridge - the only road spot where you're allowed to alight from your vehicle and walk around unguided - gazing at the pride of lions from a distance of 200 yards. A stranger announced that a lion and two cubs were dining on fresh kill only 50 ft. off the road about 12 miles south. So, after breakfast we drove down to take a look. We couldn't miss it. A veritable traffic jam of ten cars marked the spot. We could see the kill, a large wildebeest, lying under an acacia tree. No lions, however. We waited about 15 minutes, and left for Skukuza - another camp - where we bought camera batteries.
An hour later we returned to the traffic jam at the lion kill. This time a lioness was lying under a tree 50 yards behind the kill, guarding against potential interlopers. It's hot out. The lioness is panting. We suspect that the lions dragged the kill into the shade of a tree to prevent it from becoming "biltong" within 24 hours. Judging from the size of the kill, it would keep several predators from starving for a few days.
On
our way back to Olifants two guys in a commercial truck waved us down excitedly.
"Lion up ahead at next water hole!"
We turned off the main road at the next water hole sign.
Sure enough, a lioness was sunning herself on the levee overlooking the
water hole. Her gaze seemed very
intense. All we could see were two
elephants spraying their backs with muddy water and a couple of marabou storks
on the opposite bank. Then the
lioness began to move down the levee toward the water.
She moved in a low crouch. It
was then that we spied the bush pigs, four of them, drinking with their backs to
the approaching danger. The
lioness's approach took the better part of ten minutes.
Suddenly, the pigs bolted, their tails straight up.
Immediately, the lioness charged. The
pigs had too much of a head start on her. After
50 yards the lioness gave up the chase. Her
saunter suggested: "Aww, I was just playing with them. I could've caught them if I really wanted to.
Besides, it's too darn hot." She
walked out to the tip of a peninsula and lay down to resume her stakeout.
Stalking
Scat with Jumbo
We returned to Olifants in time for our Brush Walk at 4 PM. It was 96 degrees and Anzie was having second thoughts, but a guest who had done the trip that morning convinced her to go. We're the only two participants; so it's just us and two guides, Jumbo and Syska. Jumbo looks like he's spent 21 years in the bush, and he has. His craggy, suntanned face complete with a few scars and pockmarks is matched with a body that makes him look like he'd be just as comfortable on a Rugby pitch as he would be wrestling a crocodile. Born in Namibia, which is located in the Western Cape, Jumbo has worked as a big game hunting guide. He has guided at Olifants for eight years.
Syska,
on the other hand, is sweet and soft-spoken.
However she was all business once we were on the ground, keeping a sharp
watch with rifle at the ready as Jumbo gave us the rules: "Stay in single
file. Walk quietly. No talking. Watch
my hand signals".
As
we started off following the riverbank, I noted several different species of
scat, a.k.a crap or shit, and asked about them.
Turns out to be a favorite subject.
Jumbo identified the varieties.
Isn't
this interesting???!!!
Gotcha!
Had
enough?
Back
to our Bush Walk. During this dry
season the river is a series of pools. We
peeked over the edge of one pool and surprised a sleeping hippo.
We literally scared the crap out of him.
He awoke with a roar and charged off to the other side of the pool, about
25 ft. away from us, and proceeded to excrete a huge quantity, twirling his tail
to slice his poop into small bits as it exited. (Back to the scat again, huh?)
He continued to roar and express his displeasure at being awakened.
Thankfully a four-foot high bank separated us from his pool, or else our
encounter might have become too close.
We
came upon another pool containing 12-15 hippos. Jumbo explained that, during an especially dry season when
water sources dry up, Hippos will attack and kill each other over water rights.
Sure enough several small fights broke out as we watched.
We also learned that hippos don't swim.
They either float or they walk on the river bottom.
They must possess a neat system of ballast tanks.
Mopani
Worms
Jumbo
called our attention to the Mopani trees.
We had noticed these trees only in the Olifants area and parts north,
none further south. They resemble small apple trees with small leaves which
showed fall colors. Around October
of each year the mopani worms eat the leaves during a two-week period after
which the worms have grown to the size of your index finger. The worms are harvested and eaten, either raw or cooked. Cooked
they taste crispy and peppery, a delicacy, according to Jumbo.
We
also saw several Fishing Eagles, which look exactly like the American Bald
Eagle.
We
arrived back at our truck just after sunset, back at our bungalow in time for a
gin & tonic on the veranda in time to watch the animals in the twilight on
the river below.
We dined out for the first time at the Olifants Dining Room. The restaurant overlooks the river, which is spotlighted at night. Dinner was buffet-style. A wonderful assortment of salads, main courses ( including Impala. Anzie: "We're eating Bambi!") and desserts. Cost: $13 each.
We
brought our own wine.
The
next morning we bid a fond "Adieu" to Olifants and began our journey
back to Pretoria.
Watch for Part 17:
Marching to Pretoria
Apartheid - Nine Years Later
Are the Boers Really Bores?
Capetown - the San Francisco of South Africa
How to Eat and Drink Your Way Across the Winelands
Ostrich, Antelope, Seals, Whales and Penguins - All in One Day?
Must be a Zoo.
No, It's South Africa!
Is South Africa Really Africa?
A la prochaine,
21st
So, there we were, face to face with a steenbuck about to charge …
"WE ARE MARCHING TO PRETORIA"
These are words from a song the Brits used to sing to commemorate their victory in the Boer Wars in the late 1800's.
On Sunday, September 21 we departed Kruger National Park for our return trip to Pretoria, one of South Africa's capital cities. We decided to take the northern route, exiting Kruger via the Phalaborwa Gate then through what's known as the Escarpment and Panorama Route.
We left Olifants camp at 7:00AM knowing that we had a lot of miles to cover. We stopped at Letaba camp for a good breakfast and a wonderful elephant museum. We then slightly exceeded the 40 mph speed limit heading for the gate. Sure, we saw more animals - zebra, gifaffe, kudu, elephant - but we barely slowed down; same old same old.
We heard the news that a leopard jumped through a car window and mauled a man. Apparently the leopard was walking down the center of the road when it was suddenly surrounded by cars. It raised up on its hindlegs and rested its forepaws on an open window, right next to the driver. The driver jumped over to the passenger side, raised his feet up, and began kicking at the cat. The cat jumped through the window and proceeded to maul the man's legs pretty badly. The cat then exited the vehicle and was immediately run over by another car. As he was writhing on the pavement another driver exited his vehicle with a gun, and shot the leopard dead.
The park rangers launched a rather fruitless search for the man with the gun, because guns are illegal within the confines of the park. The investigation continues.
We headed west for Phalaborwa, the Park's Central Gate. Our plan was to travel along the Drakensberg Escarpment south to where we would intersect with the autoroute to Pretoria.
We had to take a short side trip in Phalborwa. I spied a huge refinery with the name "SASOL" on it. Stands for South African Synthetic Oil Limited. They make oil out of coal. Back in the early '80's when the oil price was over $30. a barrel, the synthetic fuel industry was coming on strong. We at Kamyr Valve in Glens Falls,NY were chasing this business for all it was worth. The extreme environment of the refining process called for some highly specialized valving. We had a few good years until the oil prices tumbled to the point that the high cost of synthetic fuel production rendered it non-competitive. However, SASOL stayed ahead of the curve. They were able to produce competitively, and still can, judging from the size of this plant. The size compares to a large steel mill. Outside the plant lay a veritable yellow mountain of sulfur, which they must extract from the finished product to make it sweeter and more useable. I would have liked to stop and ask more questions about the process, but Anzie insisted that we had more important matters to attend to, like seeing more scenery.
Sure enough, she was right. As we entered the Drakenberg mountains we came upon tall orange rocky peaks decorated with striations of yellow green lichen. The contrast and the majesty were worth a painting. Maybe someday…. We made our way past scenic vistas like God's Window and Pilgrim's Rest. They provided awesome views of the lowveld up to 1000 meters below.
We arrived in Pretoria at 5PM. Found our hotel, The Arcadia Courtyard located in the Hatfield district wherein lies the Univ. of Pretoria and all of the foreign embassies - the high rent district. Very nice digs included huge breakfast, afternoon tea and cocktails 5-7PM. Reminded me of Embassy Suites. Finally met up with Anne's counterparts, Gene Peuse and Brownie Lee, as well as their boss - Barbara Brown.
After a couple of cocktails we all walked over to the Hatfield shopping district for dinner. The whole group hit it off immediately -- lots of creative energy. Actually they had all known each other beforehand on a virtual basis via almost daily e-mail contact. I'm still amazed by the power of the Internet.
The next morning the group assembled at Gene's house for the day, while yours truly was left free to explore the environs of Pretoria. The first day I did absolutely nothing memorable, save a trip to the airport to confirm flights for everyone. Had a slow leak in one tire fixed. Bought groceries for our room.
Every evening we met for cocktails in the living room of the main mansion. We discussed the details of the day, and then dispersed for dinner. Anzie and I would often nosh on the hors d'oeuvres, and forego dinner.
Pretoria was celebrating National Heritage Month, which marked the ninth anniversary of the overthrow of apartheid. The second morning as I was exploring downtown, I came upon a large park in which there were installed a large stage and several large white tents. I decided to see what was up. I walked through the entrance, marked by a banner heralding National Heritage Month. I continued on through two large tents in which people were selling crafts -- mostly unimpressive beadwork, some nice fabrics, wood carvings. I entered the main area in front of the huge stage to find myself surrounded by about 2000 people. They were all standing around listening to speeches made by men in suits upon the stage. I then noticed that I was about the only white person. On the side of the stage opposite the craft tents I spied a tent fronted with mosquito netting in which about 100 people were sitting on folding chairs, all well-dressed, some of them white.
The final speaker was thanking a list of people and announcing the up-coming entertainment when an elderly white gentleman came up to me and introduced himself -- Professor Willem Kleynhams, age 82, retired from the faculty of the University of Pretoria. He looked like Gyro Gearloose standing there in white dress shirt and tie, battered briefcase tucked under one arm with papers peeking out of the top corner, his shock of white hair looking more like nerve ends, the black eyes of a mongoose piercing from under bushy eyebrows.
After some small talk about where I was from and his journeys to the states.
Professor: Mr. Kennedy, allow me to point some things out to you. This is supposed to be a celebration of the end of apartheid, of our "Rainbow Nation", many colors all living together in peace. Tell me how many whites do you see here today?
Me: Funny. I was just noticing that myself. Not many.
Professor: How many whites do you see on the speakers' stage?
Me: None.
Professor: In fact, there are no whites on the Organizing Committee.
Me: Where are all the Afrikaners?
Professor: They're home watching Rugby on television. That's all they do. What you see here is the reality of the Rainbow Nation. It's not working.
Me: It took us a lot longer than nine years to get to where we are in the States. We began to battle Segregation - our Apartheid - back in the late '50's - early '60's. Although we've made great strides, we still have a way to go.
Professor: Before you leave here you must visit one of our many shanty towns, or squatter camps. They give you a dramatic evidence of the vast gulf between the rich and the poor in this country.
Me: I saw a huge one on our way to Kruger, in Witbank, the coal mining area. Hundreds and hundreds of shacks made of cardboard and plastic sheeting, sitting across the Autoroute from the coal mines and refineries.
Professor: They're very dangerous. Every week a candle tips over and one hundred of those shacks burn to the ground within minutes. In order for this government to succeed without a revolution, it must narrow the gap between rich and poor. It must improve the welfare of the poor.
Me: From what I understand the government is now primarily black. Don't you think the government should get more whites involved?
Professor: Certainly they should. The whites don't seem to be interested. They just go to work each day, and then sit home watching Rugby on television.
I want you to know that I had an epiphany 40 years ago. That was when I realized that apartheid would not work. I began to voice my opinion, and my life was no longer pretty. My family and I received threats. I almost lost my position at the University.
I was raised in an Afrikaner household. My parents believed strongly in apartheid. I remember that, at age 10, I befriended a black boy. He possessed and incredibly sharp mind. He knew as much as I did about subjects I learned in school -- Reading, Writing, Mathematics -- yet he had barely attended school. He had learned at home from his mother. The rest he had taught himself. I just knew that he was as smart as I was. Over the years I came to realize that, given the right circumstances, Aob ( that was his name) could accomplish much.
One of the happiest days of my life was the day they voted to abolish apartheid. I had worked long and hard for that day. It was nice to be proven right.
Me: Are you still working?
Professor: Right now I am writing a lot. I have published much.
That was the end of our conversation. I sincerely thanked the professor for enlightening me.
The next day I accompanied the group to a conference center located 30 miles outside of town. They were there to monitor and facilitate a Peace Corps conference of IT staff. I spent my time sitting in the sun on a dock overlooking a river watching the birds and writing. A delightful setting, plus I accomplished much.
The next day Anne took the afternoon off, and we went to the zoo. The Pretoria Zoo is so huge that the best way to tour it is to rent a golf cart. Even then it took us two hours. It also enabled us to put names to some of the animals we had seen in Kruger. We noticed that several bird pens were empty, and the chicken wire had large holes in it. We heard later that, the night before, some person or persons broke into the zoo and made off with several of the most costly birds.
We arrive in Capetown:
After a combination birthday for Brownie Lee and farewell dinner for the group at a fine Thai restaurant located on the outskirts of the Brooklin Mall on Thursday eve, we left for Capetown early Friday. Two hours later we circled Capetown and were able to view the town, the cape of Good Hope, Table Mountain, Robben Island ( where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned), the awesome coastline and the mountains around the Winelands District.
Picked up our rental car - a Tazz, as in Tazmanian Devil. Sounds meaner than it is. We had to use all five gears to get to the top of some mountains. We left the airport, skirted Capetown and traveled three hours northwest. Exited the Autoroute at Swellendam and navigated narrow mountain roads to get to Montagu. Montagu is situated on the border of the Winelands and the Little Karoo National Reserve, a vast arid land to the north.
Located in a mountain valley the air in Montagu was dry and crisp, Colorado Springs-like. It is known for its hot springs, colony of artists and other escapees. We had taken the advice of friends Axel and Sylvia and reserved a room at the Mimosa Lodge B & B. We arrived at 5PM, had time for a short walk around the grounds, which included a swimming pool, croquet court and well-manicured gardens. We gathered with the other guests in the "Club" for a wine-tasting. We were surprised at the geographic diversity represented by the guests: German, Swiss and Irish. Of course, in this part of the world Americans are still the oddity.
A truly gourmet dinner was followed by an adjournment of all guests to the Club for aprés-diners and lively conversation. This is what we love about B&B's. They're the perfect setup for people experiences. Went to bed under a down quilt with the windows open.
The next morning we forced down a wonderful breakfast on top of the previous night's repast, and hit the road. The clear blue sky fairly sparkled. Heading east we detoured through the town of Robertson. The center for one of the largest winegrowing areas, it is at the same time bustling and dull. After a ten minute cruise, we were out of there.
Next stop - Worcester and the Karoo National Botanic Garden. It's a micro-view of just about any type of desert vegetation one could find anywhere. Over 140 acres of cacti, century plants, aloe, all sorts of succulents. Our timing was pretty good. In early spring many plants were starting to blossom.
On our way to Worcester we noted rain clouds gathering up against yonder mountains. It began to sprinkle as we left the Gardens. We left the N1 Autoroute at the first sign that said Paarl, which was our destination. By this time it was a full-fledged rainstorm. It was a bad choice. The road led to Du Toits Kloof, a road so steep and windy that I almost broke my wrists steering around the many hairpin turns. The road clung to the side of this mountain with a dearth of guardrails. All we could see was a foggy abyss. When we made it back to the main road, we decided to look at a map. We then understood that we could have avoided our death-defying 45-minute mountain route by staying on the AutoRoute though the Huguenot Tunnel. We would have arrived at the same spot in ten minutes. So much for our navigator. As with everything else in life, you get what you pay for.
We arrived in Paarl, which is known for its granite domes, the mountains that overlook the town. We couldn't see them. We did a quick loop of the downtown, and noted the KWV wineries ( KWV appears to be a conglomerate that produces and distributes wines throughout the region). We also noted that Paarl was a modern, clean commercial center.
We passed the Afrikaans Language Museum. Back in the 1800's a townsman named Gideon Malherbe, along with other men of either Dutch or French Huguenot ancestry founded the Association of True Afrikaners here as a reaction to the colonial approach of the British. Afrikaans was proclaimed an official language in 1925, and is still protected under the new constitution. It was the language we most often overheard spoken by white Africans on the streets, in restaurants and malls. Funny, their children go barefoot regardless of the venue. Perhaps it's a nostalgic throwback to Boer heritage. "Boer" means farmer. The Voortrekker is another proud part of their heritage. Voortrekkers were the Dutch settlers who, dissatisfied with life under British rule, left the Cape in 1830 and migrated as far as Pretoria. They formed the Orange Free State and the Transvaal.
This is as good a place as any to stop. Next we'll visit the Winelands, Capetown, the Zoo that is South Africa.
Please stay tuned.
27th
South Africa: The Winelands, Capetown and Its Environs, The Zoo That Is South Africa:
Interesting Fact: South Africa constitutes one of the six floral kingdoms of the world. Its plant diversity compares to that found in the Boreal Kingdom, which covers Europe, North America and Asia. In other words, you can see a whole lot of different plants and flowers within a small area.
Franschhoek:
Next stop: Franschhoek. A picturesque village set in a valley of vineyards banked by huge blue mountains. Every turn in the road presents a scenic view that deserves to be painted, even through the rain. We cruised the main street, noting the wine tasting salons and toney boutiques. We finally chose Monneaux Restaurant, which is located in the Franschhoek Country House, a wine chateau inn on the Main Road into Franschhoek. As we were pretty damp, we chose a table next to the blazing fireplace. For drinks Anne chose a Muscat, while I chose a Ratafia. Ratafia is like a sauterne with a kick. It's a sweet white, like a reisling, blended with brandy. Excellent with cheese. As a matter of fact, I think I'll have one now! I bought two bottles from the vineyard, Haute Cabriere's "Pierre Jourdan" label.
I'm back. Ratafia is served in a sherry glass. It goes down so smoothly that I drank one in the kitchen.
Anyway, back to Monneaux. We ordered mussels for an entrée. They were without doubt the best mussels we had ever eaten! The biggest, the plumpest, they were served in a sweet curry cream base. After the mussels were gone we sopped up every last drop of sauce. Our main dishes were also excellent. Anzie tends to coo over food she really likes. This time I joined her. We must have sounded like a bevy of pigeons. The service, the attention to detail right down to the basil sorbet palette-cleanser, everything made this a four star experience.
This was our introduction to the wine and food experience that is Franschhoek. They really compete head-to-head with the French. What's more, they speak English.
Boy, those Ratafias don't go very far. Be right back.
I'm back. Of course I asked dear Anzie if she'd like to partake. So I had to have one with her. They certainly are tasty. And I feel so much better.
Anyway, where were we? Oh yes, so we cruised through Franschhhoek and decided to head over to Stellenbosch, our ultimate goal. Again we see gorgeous scenery around every turn, along with countless vineyards beckoning us to taste their wares. Rather than stop we reconnoitered the area, figurring that we'd be back somestimes during the next three dayss. So, what about Bush? Has anybody telled him he doesn't have any clothes on? I'm thirsty. Be back.
Bak! Jahmissme? Bottle's empty. I dunno, mush be theheet. I'm tired. Seeya.
I’m back again. It’s the morning after. I can’t understand why I feel so lousy. Guess it’s a sign of age: I wake up hung over even though I didn’t drink anything the night before … well, hardly anything.
Stellenbosch:
This town is home to the University of Afrikaans, as well as a center of the Winelands. We drove straight to our B&B, Ons Genot, which was located about five minutes from downtown. A pastoral setting, it is surrounded by a wine estate, with a golf course right down the road. A large pond in front attracts a variety of birds. It was too cold to use the swimming pool. Ons Genot is run by a Belgian couple, Yves and Marlene, who had purchased and remodeled the property two years ago. Our room had everything, including terry cloth robes, stocked fridge, comfortable king-size bed. Sliding doors opened onto a patio and garden. Enough wineries were located in close proximity that we seriously contemplated hiring bicycles to do a winery tour. Regretfully this plan was precluded by our time constraints. We were into the macro- as opposed to the micro-view for this trip.
It was still raining when we parked our car in downtown Stellenbosch. We wanted to explore and find a place to eat. We window-shopped several art galleries and craft shops. We searched all over for D'Ouwe Werf, “the oldest (1802) existing country inn in South Africa”, according to our Frommers. Finally found it; stopped in for a glass and a look around. Retains an old-fashioned, elegant atmosphere. We stopped for a beer at Dros, an Applebees-type pub/restaurant – the only restaurant chain we had seen in all of Africa besides the occasional McDonalds and KFC. We never did eat. Just went home and to bed.
Capetown and the Peninsula:
The next morning we headed off to Capetown, about a 35-minute drive on the AutoRoute. Like the mall rats that we are, we decided to hit the Victoria & Albert Mall. Located right on the waterfront, it is massive. 240 stores: art galleries, restaurants and gift shops abound. There's an IMAX theater, an aquarium. I'm tellin' ya, this isn't Africa. It's either California or else it's Africa according to Disney. The Presidential Shirt Store sells copies of the same shirts worn by Nelson Mandela. Long sleeve silk shirts, they are printed with pictures in a variety of colorful motifs – faces, animals, cars - loud with a certain panache. Not exactly my style. I like shirts that make a statement, but I want less "loud" and more "panache".
The prices are a bit high, but the quality of the offerings is good.
This is where you catch a tour boat to Robben Island – Mandela’s prison for over 20 years. Next to the pier is a cement platform on which the harbor seals sun themselves. It's like being at the zoo except more intimate. They're just the other side of a wire mesh fence from you. Five seals demonstrated no fear of humans as they slept, nuzzled, tried to get it on -- without success, I might add.
Anzie bought some nice handicrafts, including some Zulu woven baskets. These have lids, also woven, that fit surprisingly well.
It was getting crowded, so we left to explore the Gold Coast area heading west. Looks like South Miami Beach without the pastel colors. We stopped at the Hotel President, which was alleged to co-timeshare with Interval, the company we hooked up with while in Kuaui. We were checking places out, since we hope to return here next Spring. Wasn't our type of place -- a Miami Beach high-rise surrounded by concrete and blacktop.
However, the Gold Coast is extremely civilized. The esplanade stretches for miles along the beach, offering views of rolling surf and rocky outcrops decorated with seals and shore birds. There's plenty of traffic cruising the avenue.
We pointed our Tazz inland toward Table Mountain and started climbing. We reached our uptown goal, a resort lodge run by Best Western that purported to maintain an alliance with Interval. Sure it wasn't close to the beach, but it and the surrounding area possessed a certain ambience that made it attractive. We had lunch, decided we'd contact the name they gave us at reception, and continued our meander.
This time we headed east along the coast route. Passed through some lovely beach towns as well as scenic pine groves in the higher elevations. We planned to tour the Cape Peninsula all the way to Good Hope. We had to turn around at the Chapman's Peak Road because of a rockslide. This detoured us through the Constanzia Valley wine route, where the South African wine industry got its start. Although it was lush and well worth the detour, we didn't stop at any of the wineries. We wanted to tour the Cape.
45 minutes later we arrived at the eastern base of the peninsula. We followed the coast to Simon's Town. There we noticed many cars parked alongside the road and crowds lining the beach. We parked and disembarked for a look-see. A pod of large Right whales was cavorting about 50-75 yards off the beach. We counted five of them.
We stayed for about a half-hour before we headed south. We got as far as Boulder Beach - another five miles. We recognized Boulder as the home of the Jackass Penguins. We headed down to a beach parking area, parked and walked to the beach. There we spotted a bevy(?) pod(?) passle(?) of penguins swimming and walking the rocks. We were amazed to see penguins in their natural habitat.
Anzie climbed down to the sandy beach to get a closer look. She got to within five feet of one. They stand about 2-1/2-3 feet tall. I noticed their lips/beaks moving. They were engaged in conversation. I could only catch parts of it:
Anzie: You look like you're wearing a tuxedo.
Penguin: How do you know I'm not wearing a tuxedo?
Anzie bought a small Inuit-style penguin statue from a vendor in the parking lot. By now it was 4 PM. We decided to head home for Stellenbosch, and save Good Hope for another day. Just outside of Stellenbosch we came upon an ostrich farm. Ostriches of all sizes were evident around the pasturelands. We had noted that every gift shop and convenient store displayed ostrich eggs for sale, some painted beautifully.
So, in one day we had spotted seals, whales, penguins and ostriches. Oh yeah, and one fella walking bare-ass naked alongside the road. What'd he do? Lose a bet? Anzie expressed the opinion that he was well-endowed.
Chasing the Whales Redux:
We ate that evening in Stellenbosch at the Fish Monger. We met an American couple: she a pretty California blonde; he, twenty years older, a winner of the Rush Limbaugh look-alike contest who sold private jets. They were about to embark on a new marriage - his third, her second. They had a home in Provence, but were looking for a house in this area. He said property here was "cheap, cheap, cheap." It was then that I realized why we had seen so many new housing and condominium developments in the Winelands. Many people of different nationalities are buying retirement homes here. The weather and the life are pretty easy, and you can live well for less. Still, for Americans it's a long way from home and family.
Up bright and early the next day. Off to the coast. The town of Hermanus on False Bay is touted as the whale-watching capital of the world. It was Spring, and their Whale-Watching Festival was in full-bloom. Even though we had elected to go on a weekday to avoid the crowds, we still found plenty of traffic and people. The shoreline was cultivated with a massive rock garden. As we cruised the meandering paths we came upon a gaggle(?) pride(?) bunch(?) of rock dassies. They look like rabbits without the ears and tails. They seemed pretty tame. We could get within four feet before they scampered off.
We wandered along the shoreline keeping our eyes out for the leviathans when we heard the distinct sound of a giant conch shell trumpeting. This is how the official "whale cryer" announces sightings in downtown Hermanus. Sure enough we noted the doings of two right whales just 25 feet off a rock outcropping that was an easy jump - even for me - from the beach. I had seen whales from the deck of a boat out of San Diego. We had seen Minky whales off the Isle of Shoals. We had never seen them this close to shore. Perhaps Hermanus salts its waters with krill in order to attract these beautiful monsters. If so, it's a win-win for both whales and spectators.
We left Hermanus and wandered our way on back roads over to Franschhoek. Phenomonal scenery: mountains, valleys, hilly plains all checkerboarded in spring crops and vineyards. Definitely god's country. On the outskirts of Franschhoek we stopped at Haute Cabriere Cellar Restaurant, which is built into the side of a hill. The dining room overlooks the cave wherein rests huge wooden barrels of wine. As this winery is known for its Pierre Jourdan "Ratafia", we had a glass. A great apéritif.
We had made a luncheon reservation the day before at La Petite Ferme. Frommer's says:
"If
you are only spending one day in Franschhoek, make sure you lunch here.
We did all of that, plus. We began with a bottle of Muscat while sitting on the lawn overlooking the painterly vineyards and blue hills in the distance. Wine, dessert and coffee concluded our memorable dejeuner, all for $40.00. The next day we read in the "South African Wine Magazine" that La Petite Ferme had just been voted on of the ten best restaurants in South Africa.
Afterward, we followed the directions of the Maitre D' to a cheese factory. Damned if we can remember the name, but it's just down the road from the Haute Cabriere primary vineyard, about three kms into town from their cave restaurant. We arrived at the cheese factory just at the end of the luncheon crowd. Yes, they run a restaurant and a B & B. The distinguished gentleman playing the keyboard for the lunch crowd turned out to be the owner. He stopped playing immediately after our inquiry about cheese. The "factory" is more like a kitchen. He ushered us into the cheese shop, and we began to taste a multitude of cheeses. All this atop our huge luncheon. Eric, a Dutchman, had made his nut as a financial advisor for Morgan Stanley in New York. His wife, who is French, runs the restaurant, cheese factory and B&B. This is the way Eric is spending his retirement years. He is loving it.
It was almost 6 PM when we arrived back at our lodging. That night we stayed in, nursed our swollen bellies, sipped a little wine, snacked on a little cheese and fruit and watched TV.
The next morning we ate another wonderful breakfast, and headed for the Capetown Airport. 7½ hours after the plane took off, we were home.
You won't hear from us for a couple of weeks. We're going to southern Spain - Malaga area on November 21-30. We can't let that moss grow, y'know. Meanwhile, please keep in touch. We miss you and what you're doing.
A la prochaine and Love to all,
Return to
Homepage -
