South Africa – Coastal Road Trip

Hi again everyone! Well it’s been a while since we updated the blog, as Africa has presented more than a few difficulties in obtaining reliable internet connections, or any connections at all. As a result, we’ve packed a lot into our last two posts from South Africa, so apologies for a long post.

Wilderness Beach on the Garden Route

Knysna Lagoon

On our last post, we had been having a splash with the Great White Sharks in Mossel Bay in the Western Cape province in South Africa, exactly one week before the World Cup final in Soccer City. Our route would take us some 1,200km right around the coast of South Africa and to Durban, and then 600km more back to Johannesburg. That journey would bring us through the remainder of the Western Cape along the Garden Route taking in some of its highlights like Knysna and Plettenberg Bay. We would then cross into the Eastern Cape, also known by its former name of Transkei, which is the birthplace of Nelson Mandela, the poorest province of South Africa, and the home of the Wild Coast. And finally, we would arrive in Kwazulu-Natal, the heart of the Zulu nation, home also to the large Indian community in Durban, and the Drakensberg mountains which form the natural mountain border with Lesotho. Then we’d head 600km back to Jozi and the climax of our trip and the World Cup in Soccer City on July 11, 2010. A full itinerary, and that’s exactly what South Africa was for us – always interesting, at times exhausting, and a monumental road-trip.

Garden Route

Raging Sea at the Knysna Heads

Deciding against a swim at Knysna Heads

The highlight of the remainder of our trip along the Garden Route was Knysna. It is situated just inside a narrow channel of sea formed by two steep headlands which reach out around a small island set in a freshwater lagoon. It’s a beautiful setting, and we drove out to one of the cliffs on the headland and watched the sunset. We then took a drive down to the beach at the foot of the cliffs to get a closer look at the waves crashing in against the rocky shore, and a good dose of some fresh, bracing sea air. That helped us work up a healthy appetite, and we drove back into town to sample some of the local speciality – it just happened to be Knysna Oyster Festival, and though lacking in a bit of atmosphere, it was abundant with some delicious seafood. Our favourite spot was 35° South (our latitude at that point) which was a buzzing deli-restaurant on the lagoonfront.

Morning at Plettenberg Bay

View from the top of Knysna Head

Earlier that day, we had done a township tour with a difference in the hills surrounding Knysna. The Knysna townships are home to South Africa’s largest Rastafarian community. Our guide was the dreadlocked Brother Zeb. We decided to take a taxi to the township as we weren’t sure it was a good idea to park our car out there with all our belongings. The truth is the car would probably have been grand, but on a trip like this, unnecessary risks bring unwanted problems, so we exercised caution. Brother Zeb told Brother Tony and Sister Ninfa about the community in Judah Square, their rituals, and their religion. I enjoyed Brother Zeb’s stories of the Rastas “dubbing to the reggae music coming across the airwaves”, the fact that he finished almost all his sentences with “Yes-I! Brother Tony” or “Jah Rastafari I-n-I”, as well as the more serious discussions about community life and the Rastafari religion. Rastafarianism is in fact based on Christianity, and Brother Zeb and Mama Bee quoted verses from the Psalms as reliably as they quoted Bob Marley. The difference is that Rastas believe that Christ has come again, in the form of Emperor Haile Selassie, the previous ruler of Ethiopia, which is seen as Zion, the Promised Land. The fact that the Messiah is an African also underlines their belief in Black Emancipation.

Brother Zeb was one Natty Dread

Sister Ninfa and Brother Tony, I-n-I

The Transkei

Regarding Black Emancipation, our journey through the Transkei was memorable in that it brought us to the homeland of Nelson Rohilahla Mandela, the great Madiba. On our way through the provincial capital Mthatha, we saw a sign for the Nelson Mandela museum. We always try to reach our destinations before nightfall, and stopping at the museum would put this in jeopardy, but I persuaded Ninfa that we had to take this opportunity. We parked on a double-yellow line right outside the front door, and tipped one of the locals to look after the car. On every street and in every car-park, there’s someone whose self-appointed job is to direct cars in and out of spaces, and supposedly to look after it or buy you a parking ticket if they see the police coming – the people are a South African institution. Regarding the museum – it does not disappoint. There are great exhibits which focus on Mandela from his birth, to his career, his involvement in the ANC Youth League, his rise to the leadership of the ANC, his persecution, imprisonment, and subsequent liberation, his presidency and his current HIV/Aids campaign. I loved it! My favourite was perhaps the huge photo Mandela on his Inauguration Day as South African President, with Thabo Mbeki by his side, and the emotion visible in their eyes, as they had finally reached that moment when they had won their greatest victory.

World Cup decorations in downtown Durban

Feeling good, but in a rush, after leaving the museum, we continued on through the Eastern Cape. What a land this is. The national road is at its worst in the region, and it climbs and descends unrelentingly through the deep valleys and steep winding hills. You descend one hill, and climbing the next you’re in 3rd and sometimes 2nd gear trying to get the car up the steep ascent. And the views over the land are amazing. We were in a rush so we didn’t have time for photos, but I won’t forget the scenery any time soon. The region is evidently poorer, almost entirely black, as it was this area which was set aside as the Homeland region during Apartheid. Throughout the journey, we had to slow down for goats on the road, and stray cows appearing from behind the shacks. Although we did not stay for long in the Eastern Cape, we did stay in a beautiful seaside village called Cintsa on the Wild Coast, where even a warthog crossed the road in front of us.

KwaZulu-Natal

And finally we reached KwaZulu Natal, and Durban. Spain were playing Germany in the World Cup semi-final here and Spain ran out deserved winners by 1 goal to nil. We were getting used to watching Spain win 1-0 at this stage, but they refused to score any more goals than necessary. Durban, which is supposed to have summer all year round, was grey and dull when we were there. Also, it seemed to have a little more of an edge to it than any city we had been to in South Africa, and we saw a few scams which we had read about in our guidebook. Durban has South Africa’s largest population of Indian-descendants, and is famous for its curries, and bunny-chows. A bunny chow is basically a curry served in half a loaf of hollowed out bread – a messy affair. I had already ordered my curry by the time I realised it, but I’m afraid Durban curries aren’t a patch on the real thing over in India.

Germany vs Spain in Durban

World Cup Semi-final at Moses Mabhida Stadium in Durban

One thing I remember from our time in Durban is a conversation I had with a Zimbabwean who was working as an engineer in South Africa, but staying in the same accommodation as us. He spoke about what it means for South Africa to host the World Cup. He compared it to looking at the sun, as something forever visible but forever out of reach, and that one day you could hold it in your hands, and that this day had come for Africa. I couldn’t believe that he had described it so poetically, but for me it was the perfect description of how Africa has seen this occasion to host the World Cup.

Our next post will bring you news of our trip through the scenic Drakensberg Mountains, a day at the Apartheid Museum, a night out at the World Cup Final in Soccer City, as well as some last minute business in South Africa. Thanks for reading!