Teepee For My Bunghole

Yep, unfortunately I do not plan to update this blog anymore. I might get a new one in the future but you could always start the beginning and read it from scratch or read some of my favourite posts here and here or here.

I want to thank everyone who followed this blog and the everyone who gave their support. It’s been an amazing adventure and I’m glad some of you enjoyed it too.

Thank you, Ghalied

Some time back someone told me that I should skateboard to help me improve my surfing (actually surfing would also improve my surfing but that’s a whole other story all together) and then someone said that the movement of snakeboarding is much closer to surfing and that I should try that instead. So I missioned to find a snakeboard…

It seemed that snakeboards were a bit hard to get a hold of – which of course just made me hold on to the idea with more tenacity – sorta like a pitbull. Snakeboards were invented by a guy from Cape Town but since it sold better overseas than here, he stopped selling them in South Africa quite a while back. This I found out after doing lots of research on the internet and I also found out that he had sold the company to a toy company in the UK and therefore snakeboards were a thing of the past. The toy company only wanted to use the ‘snakeboards’ name and didn’t produce them. Anyway, I did manage to track a skateboard shop in the UK who had bought all the old stock and I bought me a couple of boards.

Happy ending? Well no, because the boards were still in the UK and I got it sent to a friend of a friend’s place because the delivery charges to here were just ridiculous (or at the time I thought so). Then there was a 6 month period where they went from house to house of Capetonians in London and subsequent people were supposed to bring it down here with them but kept not doing so. Yup, travelling without moving.

Eventually I started on my travels and I had the idea in the back of my head to pick them up in London myself sometime. Also my cousin was now in London and got the snakeboards and kept it for me. The nice part of family is that you can always kidnap their sister or call up their mother to get them to do what you want them to do, though I’m not sure which option is more drastic. Trooper that my cousin is, he sent it down to me now that I’m back home and I had managed to completely avoid going back to the UK to get them.

So the other night, after a year and a half after the initial mission was dreamt up, I went out for a boarding session with some friends and had ball of a time while being thrown out of three different parking lots. Happy ending? Not really because it turns out that I surf and snakeboard with different feet in the rear so snakeboarding won’t really improve my surfing. (And for those needlessly neurotics amongst you, if I had theoretically kidnapped my cousin’s sister, I would theoretically by now have released her without her having suffered any permanent damage)

Now this is the point where I supposed to have thought up a point to this story and to have tied it in as a fittingly humourous metaphor to life and maybe my past year of travel but I’m drawing a blank here people. So think of some appropriate morals or meanings with which to resonate (nice word, nuh?) with nice resonatedness to my story or life, or even better, your life and tell me about it some time. That way I can figure out this whole meaning of life business too. Or better yet: (I just though this up and I think it’s quite clever or actually – what I really usually aim for – it just makes me sound clever) Tell It To Yourself. (The capitals might have been a bit much).

Anyway, this is my last post on this travel blog. Its been a fucken fantastic year. Words can’t express its fantasticness enough and, as much you people like to live through other people’s words, please get out there and do something similar in your own way. Ask yourself: When last did I do something for the first time? Life improves immeasureably when you can answer that question without hesitation or shame. I met so much people, seen so many things, done so many things that it all just balls up into this big bundle of Wow, This Is Amazing! (And no, the capitals are not too much by a long way.) I walk around here and look and people and places and things and think to myself: you need to know what I know, you need to see the things I’ve seen and, most importantly, to feel how I felt. I feel like I discovered something everyone looks for but I don’t know how to pass it onto them.

Also, I don’t particulary want to stop writing this blog and I’m thinking of starting up a newsletter in which I can just talk some kak to you people and put in a few pretty pictures as well. If you think this is a good idea, please email me at gdotnews@gmail.com or add a comment to this post or email contact me on one of my other email addresses. I’ll be doing a newsletter hopefully once every two weeks (which weirdly enough corresponds to fortnightly) and will continue IF I get enough subscribers and figure out some way to make money from it (yep, its all about the money – good ol’ fucken capitalism rears its head). So tell as much people as you can because this is only going to work if I can get enough people to subscribe.

Expect the first newsletter in two weeks if I get enough people signed in and feel free to email me with comments and suggestions or topics to write on and your pics all to gdotnews@gmail.com. What are you still sitting there for? Go out and tell people!

But let’s also say goodbye now just in case we don’t meet again, so that we have some closure. Goodbye, au revoir, adios, ciao. It’s been brilliant, thanks for coming along for the ride, I enjoyed it more than you but I hope you enjoyed it in some small part too.

The End.

Okay, I’m not going to wait till the end of this post to wys yous the beweging because I want to surprise yous but I might just end up writing a longish post and forget about it. I mean, I get that way after all this travel when not doing any of this constructive stuff and what what….wait a minute, I’m almost forgetting to tell you! The thing is: [drums please] I’m at home in good ol’ Cape Town.

Yep, it’s the end of the road. What has occurred to me is that I am grateful for life’s capacity to surpise. Right till when I got on the Greyhound bus three days ago, I was being entertained, amazed and astounded. Titillating my tits off, so to speak. Durban has been jacking itself up since I was last there 4 years ago and Coffee Bay in the Eastern Cape was just gorgeous. (I just had to stop there because consistently the Wild Coast was being mentioned, by travellers who done the whole coast, as the most beautiful area in South Africa). Right up to the end I wanted to stay and travel and experience more.

Even on the fucken bus down – what does South Africa go and do? It snows! For three hours along the road there is snow covered hills and mountains. Of course, its only enough snow to wet the bottom of your shoes, but us South Africans whip out our cameras and want to stop the bus and traffic is chaos and the front page and email inboxes is filled with pictures. Yep, right till the end, this trip was special. Ag, let’s face it, life is special.

But I can’t deny reality too long and here I am in Cape Town wondering what the hell I’m going to do with this special life. Anyway, those of you who are here, please give me a call or email or something. 0824698568. I would be glad to meet up and catch up and talk kak. Those of you who are overseas, send me an email and you’ll go on the list for recipients of some individually selected words and photos.

My next post will probably be a longwinded summation on my travels and will probably be my last post. Kinda brings a tear to your eye, doesn’t it? I suppose all dreamers have to wake up at some point, that’s the tragedy of life.

So, I’m slowly making my way home now from Mozambique to Cape Town. The ones who are less geographically challenged will realise that Swaziland and an awfully large part of South Africa lies in between. So, of course, I had to stop in Swaziland.

Swaziland has the feel of one tribe of South Africa living in a country of its own (our currency is equivalent too so you can use rands interchangeably). The places are great and I really liked it. Of course, I only stayed at one spot for two days so I’m kinda not an expert on the whole place but I smaak to go back some day and check out more. The spot I stayed at was a backpackers called Sondzela inside one of the game reserves. Picture a front yard looking out over green hills and valleys with deer, zebras and others in the distance. Described as one of the most scenically set backpackers in Southern Africa, they won’t get any arguments from me.

Since I had foregone Kruger to take the southern route out of Moz, I decided to stop at Hluhluwe Game Reserve after Swaziland. The trip there was a tiny little bit involved and hectic.

Firstly I started 8am the morning from Sondzela to get the shuttle to the fruit market in the nearest town. Then I took a R5 taxi to Manzini, the transport hub of Swaziland. From Manzini, I could have taken a Durban bus for R150 but since I was only going halfway to Hluhluwe, I thought it was stupid to pay the full price, I missioned another way.

I took the taxi I thought was going to the border (R15) but it turned out that it was going to Matapa/Big Bend so I had to catch another taxi (R11) from there to the border. After the border, things got a little bit vague (what a welcome back to South Africa!). When I asked whether there were taxis to Hluhluwe, I was told that I could get one from Mkuse but that there were none to Mkuse anyway and that I would have to hike. I tried that for a about two minutes but then caught a taxi (R5) to Pongola, which is in the wrong direction but I heard I could get a taxi to Mkuse from there. On the way, I spotted people waiting for taxis going the other way so I asked the driver to drop me off at one, saving myself the 20km in the wrong direction.

So I waited at a bus stop and, of course when the bus came, it was NOT going to Mkuse. Are you tired of this route yet? Me too but I got on the bus (R10) anyway because apparently it took me most of the way to Mkuse. I got dropped at the fork where the bus went off to Josina and I considered walking the rest of the 5km for all of 10 seconds. Instead I stood alongside the road thumb in the air, thinking a bus would probably come along. Unknowingly I was participating in one of the those you-have-to-know ways to get around South Africa and soon I was sitting in someone’s car on my way after having negotiated a price. In fact, the guy turned out to be going past Hluhluwe anyway so he dropped me at the turn off (R25).

There was nothing at the turn off so walked to the closest place I could see which turned out to be a farm stall. The lady at the farm stall was brilliant and I buzzed with her for a while before I phoned the backpackers for a pick up. I managed to book a dorm but when I was arranging the pick up my cellphone battery died. The lovely lady at the farm stall phoned for me, because there was no payphone nearby, and left a message on the guys cell voicemail to come pick me up.

Then she closed up shop because it was 4 o’clock. She could have given me a lift into the town, but since she had left a message for him to pick me up there, I was advised to wait in front of the shop for him.

So I waited and waited and waited some more. And it got dark and I had no way to phone, I didn’t know how far or where the town or the place I needed to get was and I there wasn’t much civilisation around. I tried hiking for a bit but no one seemed likely to stop and it didn’t seem like the people who were likely to stop were the type that I would want to stop and pick me up.

I tried settling down and getting ready to sleep outside the farm stall and eat a supper of cashew nuts and half a small bottle of water but I was too restless.

Eventually a guy wandered past and he had a cellphone and I managed get him to lend it to me while I phoned around with my sim card inside it. By 9h30 I got hold of people willing to pick me up was whisked away to a lodge for a quick snack and deep sleep.

It wasn’t as stressful as it sounds though (okay, it was) but the most devastating part of the whole process was that I lost my bloody sunglasses somewhere along the way. I really liked them too. It’s enough to make me cry or get another pair.

The next day (yesterday) I did a game drive (I deserved it) and then made my way to Durban today. And that, folks, brings me up to date. Laters…

Okay so let’s wrap up this whole Mozambique thing before I go onto current affairs. The last time I wrote I’d just been to Vilankulos and was on my way to Tofo. I’ve been meaning to keep all you germs informed but I wanted the post after that to be a ‘Here’s some pictures’ post but couldn’t find a place that allowed me to upload some. Anyways…

Tofo was brilliant. It’s a bit of a Babylon tourist town but snorkelling with the whale sharks just puts such a glamorous sheen on the whole experience. Top notch entertainment those whale sharks, let me tell you. I also managed to rent a beginner foam surfboard and play around in miniscule waves. It was good but without a rash vest the resulting friction caused my nipples to be excruciatingly painful for days… Yes, ja, uhuh, you can stop laughing now.

After Tofo I went to Funky Monkeys backpackers in Linga Linga so that I could linger longer before making my way south. It was bit out of the way (a 3 hour dhow trip down a river-like bay to a stunning peninsula) but it was really rustic and close to the the earth and all those other expressions we use when we get these basic natural living experiences.

Then it was back to Maputo where I did some major laundry after my luggage got soaked in some sour smelling shite on the second bus coming down (the first bus having broken down). I also finally managed to get to the fish market where you choose your fish and seafood from the market and get one of the places in the back to cook it for you. Fantastic, fantastic food. Even made me forget my sore nipples of the previous days.

Don’t you check that palm trees are like the supermodels of the tree world? I mean check how they rise above all the others gooiing poses all over the show. For sure you get a Iman oak or a Kate Moss willow here and there but palm trees always seem to steal the show. It’s so easy to look good in pictures up against white cloud spotted blue skies and even easier if there’s long stretches of beach beside you and islands in the distance. Wait a minute – I think I just described Mozambique. Actually just add in people that are an exotic mix of African, Indian and Arab.

Then someone made me wys that palm trees aren’t actually indigenous to Mozambique and I was like: “Wow, foreign supermodels!”

My mission here in Mozambique is pretty simple i.e. Use Maputo as a base and one week in Vilankulos and one week in Tofu. But, of course, now that I’m here I’m checking that there’s a whole lot more that a man wants to check but this time though, the cash is weak.

Vilankulos was good to me though, even though they had a cyclone a few months ago and large parts of it was damaged (including the internet spots). There were supermodels lying broken along the roadside but enough survived to make the place still pretty special. The snorkelling around the Bazaruto archipelago was also befok. As was the electrical storm the last day we were in Vilankulos. I go to Tofu tomorrow.

Now since the ‘cash is weak’ [in Afrikaans this translates to ‘swak geld‘], you’re all thinking I need to address that age old question of ‘When are you getting home?’ I’m out of denial now, so I can address the question directly. You see the thing is, I had a really cool plan. That was: quit your job, take your pension and spend it travelling for a year and then go back home and start over. [Actually this was Plan C, Plan A and Plan B being shafted due to factors beyond my control]. The problem is that now I’m going home to ‘start over’. I am kak reluctant to get back and I don’t smaak to be broke and look for a job and all that stuff. But it will be soon methinks. After all, the cash is weak.

After a few days buzzing around around Joburg, I met my sister and we hopped on an overnight bus to Moz. The bus trip was uneventful except for having to wait for two hours at the Moz border while the customs brasse went through the bags.

So far Maputo seems quite relaxed and chilled. Nice places to eat and interesting sites to check out. We’re going to lam here a few days and figure out where we’re going from here.

Back in my home country but not yet quite back home. Just got back to Joburg in time to witness South Africa further rather grandly in both the cricket and the under-19 rugby world cups. Excellent stuff!

The way things are working out is that yesterday here in Johannessburg I met up with Shaheed who I’d last seen in Switzerland (always good to meet up with people twice in the same trip!), today I meet up with another bra and hang out with him while he does some photography goede (by the time I get to Cape Town he’s off to Germany for long time) and tomorrow I meet my sister and we gooi to Mozambique (now doesn’t that sound exciting?).

PS By this afternoon my old SA phone number should work i.e. 0824698568

With my fear of flying I should really not be using such potentially portentious (how’s that for fucken alliteration, of hoe?) titles but I couldn’t resist myself because, kyk hie, I’m done with Cape Verde. Actually I could stay a lot longer but my credit card expired and I’m going to run out of money. So it’s home, James.

I have a return ticket from London but because it’s so expensive to get there from Cape Verde, and I have to pay charges for changing my ticket twice, it works out that flying directly home is not much more expensive. Actually I’m lying, I think I just rationalised the spending of so much money to fly direct because I’m so kak scared of flying and this way I get to fly a lot less. So, ja, back home for me.

But wait a minute! The flight is to Johannesburg… so I think I might be taking the long road to Cape Town. Watch this site for details…

 

So I put some of the pics up from my excellent walks in Santa Antau. Now remember what I said – in no way do my horrid photos compare to the beauty of this island. I only put up a few miserable ones and it was difficult to choose them due to my limited time. Also… ag, just go see the place for yourself! It’s stunning!