A Day Like No Other!

Every once in a while you begin to feel your age and it really is so irritating, you know? I had planned this day for so long, knowing it would be a once in a lifetime deal (and it was), but make no mistake, I was not a happy camper with the weather! I’m in Africa, am I not? Where’s the heat?

Henk picked us up at 5AM for our trip to Skukuza Gate at Kruger Park. It’s a school holiday week here so he expected the lines to be long – they weren’t – and, because of the gray, drizzly, overcast, he told us we’d see a lot more animals – we did!

I’ll tell you that I’ve never been one for zoos or animal parks. I hated the circus as a kid, it terrified me, had a sinister feeling to it that I just couldn’t shake, and that watching Water for Elephants on the plane over here did nothing to dispel! Seeing caged or impaired movement in the animal kingdom goes against nature and causes me to be too depressed to enjoy it. Whenever I hear of an animal retaliating against its keeper I do a silent fist bump.

So it is with great joy that one experiences the animals in the wild in a paradise like Kruger, an animal refuge as large as the state of Israel. It’s difficult to comprehend. Even with an experienced guide like Henk your head is on a constant swivel, straining into the veld to catch a movement. One can only marvel at the creativity of mother nature and the way she shields her charges from harm, their coats of many colors blending so well with their surroundings and changing with the seasons.

An elusive Kudu spotted by Don. My  favorites, I thought were the giraffes until we spotted the herd of zebra!

But then how can you resist the Impalas who rove in large groups for protection, I’m sorry to say that mother nature has determined that they are the weakest link in the wild and are there to feed the more aggressive animals, in particular, the lions (of which we only spotted one elusive guy resting on a rock).

We left this area of the Kruger around 2 in the afternoon to meet up with a character right out of a novel. A rifle toting tracker, Magda, who prefers to be called Max, was to take us on the next leg of our day, to a private game reserve within Kruger where we would transfer to open top Land Rovers for a four hour game drive that would place us right in the middle of the animals’ territory. This was to be the highlight of our day – why oh why did it begin to rain with a vengeance? The temperature dropped to about 50 something and all I could think of were Ann’s last words to me as I left for vacation, “don’t come back sick.”

The Physical Beauty of South Africa

After a lay-a-bout day of rest we got up early for our first of two full days that we had booked with Henk and Lizelle Gous, an extremely hard working couple who run Sundowners Tours. Henk was oddly apologetic that some other people were going to be joining us but we were thrilled when we saw it was the four young women we had met the previous day as they rode horses through the compound. You could just tell right away that they were going to be fun!

What can I say about Henk? He’s been extremely helpful and professional with us but – if we were back in the States – we would not likely be friends. In Florida you’d refer to him as a “good old boy,” (God, Guns, Family) and he now and then slipped and let certain prejudices surface  “the Indians always do this, or Muslims are taking over.” Somehow it’s easier to ignore these comments  or try to understand where he's coming from but you can see that the rift the will always be here between the blacks and the Afrikaners, a divide that’s been hundreds of years in the making.

We took off on our Panorama Tour to see the beauty of the African countryside and found the beauty in our traveling companions as well, four single gals who work for the government pension office in Pretoria. Mathilde, especially, was so well-read and informed, that we learned more from her over the course of the day about the political situation here in SA and how young people see the future of their country than I think we had up to this point.

                                               In the meantime, Henk had the chance to share his obvious love and pride in his country and we got to see it through his eyes. Blyde River Canyon, a place that could pass for a miniature Grand Canyon, the Three Rondovals, a mountain range of mysterious formations, and God’s Window, a secret place where the clouds come down to cover the view one moment and retreat the next to reveal a breathtaking sight.

  

And yes, it was cold and cloudy! Who knew you’d be cold in Africa?

If there’s one thing that white and black agree on, sadly, it’s the massive corruption in the current South African government. How does a man like Jacob Zuma, who spent time as a political prisoner on Robben Island for speaking out for the underserved, end up ignoring them for his own enrichment? That’s a tough thing to swallow. How tragic to hear 35 year old Mathilde, a woman who must remember the horrors of Apartheid, posit that perhaps the country would be better off returning to it. What could she mean by that? Thankfully, I later chatted with Thulia, only ten years younger, who sees nothing but a positive, co-operative government in her future. My hope is with the young!

Wet and Wild Sudwala Welcome

Friday we vacated the understated luxury of An African Villa, www.anafricanvilla.com for the puddle jumper that would take us up to Nelspruit and our week of rest at the Sudwala Lodge, a glorious piece of property about an hour from several gates to Kruger National Park. While waiting to board the plane in Joburg I noticed a woman in full black chador, nothing visible but her deep brown eyes and amazingly smooth young woman’s hands, engrossed in a dog eared paperback that I assumed (you know what they say about those who assume) was the Koran. What a laugh I had at myself when I found her sitting next to me on the flight. The book that had her so intent? Danielle Steel!

After grocery shopping, we’re in a self catering unit but there is a restaurant on premise, we settled in with Henk from Sundowners-Tours to plan our week. Yes, we wanted a safari in Sabie Sands and yes, we wanted a day in Kruger, but we also wanted to be sure that we could just sit around and read. Our chalet is about a half mile walk to the restaurant and, though it was pouring down a much needed rain, we set out for a hot meal. Sadly, the restaurant had closed, only a few staff members sitting outside waiting for their rides home.

As we began the return trek the thunder and lightning stepped up their commotion and suddenly we were thrust into utter darkness. Not a light to be seen anywhere throughout the compound. We had yet to reconnoiter or to remotely have familiarized ourselves with the grounds and I immediately went into full panic mode. Don, with the calm of a pilot who suddenly loses his instruments, found our way back by stopping, waiting for a lightning strike, and then walking until another one guided us safely home. We found out later than the emergency generator goes off at 10 pm. In other words, most folks should have been in bed, not out looking for food!

Speaking of food, and wine, or was I speaking of wine? Americans can do VERY well here with the exchange rate. On average,  80 rand = one U.S. dollar. We have yet to pay more than ten bucks for any meal and the food is outstanding everywhere we go. Wine? A normal bottle of the local pinotage, quite a bit stronger than our pinot noir grape, runs three to four dollars. A splurge might go as high as $7!

The windows here are all floor to ceiling wood framed glass, the roof is faux thatch because the baboons ate the real thatch roofs! They try very hard to give one an authentic feeling of being outdoors and within nature. They needn’t have worked so hard. This is what greeted us Saturday morning after our good night’s sleep Friday:

Deon Meyer's Cape Town

A very different picture emerges when you read the dark thrillers of Deon Meyer. He recently appeared at a reading festival in Cape Town which we missed by just a few days. That was a disappointment! Still, I had made sure to download at least one of his novels to have with me while visiting this city that seems to have a noir underbelly which is only alluded to by your shopkeepers and hoteliers.



Devil’s Peak is a tough read for those who may not have started at the beginning of the series. Benny Griessel is an Afrikaaner, an intuitively astute detective on the verge of collapse. He is a raging alcoholic and at the beginning of this story, he has been kicked out by his wife Anna and given an ultimatum, 6 months to get it together if he wants his job and family back. I don’t think I’ve ever read such a compelling, devastating description of what goes on in the mind of a person whose only reason for existence is the next drop of alcohol.


There are two cases going on in the novel, one is being told in retrospect by Christine, a young, single mom who has turned to prostitution to support herself and her daughter Sonia. Her reasoning is clear-eyed and sensible but she didn’t bank on Carlos Santenegra, a proud drug baron whose possessiveness and jealousy moves him to begin stalking her, beating her other clients, and finally asking her to move into his Camps Bay compound where she’ll be monitored 24/7 by his henchmen.


On the other hand there is an ongoing situation involving a vigilante killer who employs an unusual weapon, an old-fashioned, assegai, warrior’s spear. Benny is in rehab, only 9 days sober, but has been assigned to head up this investigation, to resentful doubts from his co-workers. An additional concern is that many on the department believe that the murderer is doing the right thing, targeting pedophiles and baby killers whom the laws can’t seem to convict.


These two stories move toward each other at a compelling speed until you simply can’t put the book down. Underlying the traditional police procedural is Meyer’s nuanced take on post-Apartheid South Africa. He manages to show readers the tenuous truces that have been made between blacks, coloreds, and Afrikaaners while allowing his characters’ actions to also explicate the simmering resentments still there beneath the surface.

Cape Town - First Impressions

My first impression of Cape Town was that I could have been in any city in the United States - perhaps that’s why so many Americans who come to South Africa rave over its beauty. It better fits their comfort zone. For me, after Senegal and Joburg, I kept wondering, “where are the Africans?”


I soon found out. As we drove in from the airport our guide tried to avoid talking about the corrugated iron shanty towns that sit in the bowl of this glorious city surrounded by mountains and the sea. One million souls subsist in these places that are truly indescribable to someone who hasn’t seen them. No slum in the United States would look like this. It seems that, after the end of apartheid in the ‘90’s, the new government promised to build housing for all those who had been disenfranchised, but they couldn’t possibly provide housing for so many.


The majority of these people were denied an education or a means to make a living so, even in new housing, how would they provide food for their families? We’ve been told by various taxi drivers and guides so many tragic stories unknown to most of the world. In this case, people rented their new government provided homes in order to earn enough money to get by, continuing to live in the shacks.


On the waterfront, named ironically for previous oppressors of the African people, you can purchase souvenirs at the very finest name brand stores. You’ll also find Sotheby’s for real estate sales, Dior for fashion, and fine wines and beers. 100 yards away you may decide to board the catamaran that will take you to another world, Robben Island, home of political prisoners accused of treason by the apartheid government for “plotting” to take back their country.


Most readers will know the most famous prisoner held in cell #7, Nelson Mandela, and will be appalled at the size of the cell, the austerity and loneliness of the island, the bone chilling cold, a wind that never rests, the work in the mines and the cruelty that segregated even the prisoners into blacks and others. Blacks received fewer grams of food. More horrific than what you see on Robben Island is the fact that you are being lead on your tour by former prisoners.


Our guide told about the time the world finally received news that people were being mistreated here. A delegation of journalists were sent by the BBC to verify the reports. Prisoners who were formerly clothed in ragged shorts, not even underwear or socks, were given warm, full length farmer’s jeans and jackets to wear for the photo shoot. The second it was over, so was their comfort.

Yes, I am getting an education. As I’ve written previously, this is why one travels. But please, don’t think it is all so horribly depressing. It has been an eye-opening adventure, the best of which is the people we have met. All Don has to do is ask an open ended question of a cabbie, a tour guide, a person sitting next to us on a boat or bus and it’s fabulous! It’s like speaking to living encyclopedias. We share, we spar, and we understand another’s point of view. At the end of the day, we sit over our wine and meal , discussing what we’ve discovered, what we didn’t expect, what was a revelation and we marvel at all that we have in common with the rest of the world.



We are now spending a week unconnected to the world, no phone, no Internet, just days of listening to the wildlife and reading. Wait until I tell you about today!!