We can hear the falls so we know we’re close. Then we see them. Wow. They make Iguazu seem small. The water crashes down the escarpment and the spray goes high into the air. There’s so much mist coming off the falls you’d swear it’s raining. It’s awesome. I can’t hear Brian over the roar of the falls but I can see he’s a happy man.
•
There’s no sun for our sunset cruise on the mighty Zambezi River which feeds the majestic falls, but it doesn’t disappoint. In the distance we can see the cloud of spray coming off the falls. Cruising along we see a couple of crocodiles, hippos galore, impalas and baboons. The impalas and baboons hang out together with the baboons acting as lookouts against predators, which is interesting when you consider sometimes the baboons forget their manners and eat baby impalas.
Brian: Cruising on the Zambezi is fine but it’s time for some action at the very top of the falls. We take a speedboat to Livingstone Island, right in the middle of the Zambezi, which is where David Livingstone was brought by the locals in a dugout canoe. I’m sure Shirl has no idea just how close to the top it is.
When we get to the island we meet Kelvin, our guide, who’s wearing a wet suit. I guess we’re going to get wet. Kelvin takes the lead, holding Shirl’s hand and she holds mine. He’s lithe and agile leading our human chain across the rocks in his bare feet.
Even I didn’t think we’d be this close to the top. We’re less than a metre from the edge, standing on the rocks with the raging falls deafening us. The wind swirls around with mist hitting us from all sides. Shirl’s laughing and I wonder whether this is hysteria or if she’s really enjoying herself.
I can’t believe we’re standing in the Zambezi River. The water just disappears over the edge. It’s awesome and it’s scary.
Now we’re soaked to the skin it’s time for a swim. The main swimming spot up here, the Devil’s Hole, is closed because there’s too much water rushing through it. Instead we move along the edge a little to a small pool they call the Jacuzzi.
Shirl takes one look and decides it’s not for her, but I’ve swum in the Antarctic, paddled in the Arctic and I’m determined to swim in the Zambezi.
It’s obviously dangerous. We’ve been told that four elephants were washed over the edge a couple of years ago. During low water they swam out to the island, but they didn’t time it right. The water was running so fast they were swept to their deaths. I’m sure Shirl’s been thinking about this while we clamber over the rocks at the precipice.
Even though the Jacuzzi is small it’s a heart stopping experience to sit in the raging waters. I have to brace my legs against the rocks to avoid being swept over the edge. Wow!
Shirley: Brian’s right. I was pretty terrified, but I’m glad I walked to the edge.
Like Iguazu Falls, you need to cross a border to see all of the Victoria Falls. The border with Zimbabwe is across a bridge where you can bungy jump if you’re completely foolhardy. Walking across, one of the touts tries to convince us to take the leap. His technique is unusual, telling us he was the man who jumped in attempting to rescue a girl who crashed to her death in the river when the bungy failed. Thanks, but no thanks.
At the Zimbabwe border post we have to pay US $30 each for The the privilege of visiting the country and another US $30 each to get into the falls. We read that after paying the public servants Zimbabwe has only about $250 left in the bank. We’re doing our bit to boost the economy.
Here we are, right in front of the falls. There’s so much mist and spray at times the falls are hidden in a ‘white out’. I put the umbrella up but it doesn’t keep us any drier. The views are amazing. We can see and hear the falls, and feel them.
There’s a final lookout at a rocky outcrop out of the reach of the spray. The sun is shining and we get the most magnificent views of the falls. This is an incredible place — one of the seven natural wonders of the world along with the Grand Canyon and our very own Great Barrier Reef.
The ride here was tricky, but it’s been well worth it. What a place! It was everything we expected and a bit more to boot.
Brian: Heading south, we could ride through Zimbabwe, but we’ve been told that we’ll be constantly stopped by the police and expected to pay our way out of trouble. We both feel we’ve contributed enough to their economy so we head back into South Africa through Botswana.
The road to the border quickly turns to dirt and at the end there’s some ramshackle buildings behind a cyclone wire fence and a river, but no bridge. This is a surprise.
The border is dusty, muddy and filled with trucks, noise, dogs and stalls. It’s so like South America. We’re accosted by touts offering to change money and help us with officialdom. The ferry will cost 45 kwacha, less than US $10. The price isn’t the problem; the fact Shirl changed all of our kwacha at the hotel is. One particularly persistent tout offers to change money, get someone to look after the bike and take us to the ferry office. As a thank you, we give him 10 kwacha — the last of the big spenders.
Across the river and back in Botswana we take the road to Francistown and spot more elephant warning signs. Then we spot the elephants — scores of them: there are a couple quite close to the roadside; further down the highway there’s a group of seven; then 11; then a mother and very small baby. This is incredible.
I slow the bike down so Shirl can get a photo but the mother is incredibly protective of the baby and starts flapping her ears. A close encounter with an angry elephant isn’t on the agenda so I err on the side of caution and ride off.
A few kilometres further on and there are more elephants, this mob relaxing in a mud wallow. We can’t believe how lucky we are to have seen the things we’ve seen on this trip and these wild elephants are right up there with the best.
Shirley: Back in South Africa on the road to Kruger National Park we stop at a lodge in Polokwane, about the halfway mark. It’s a stylish resort with thatched roofed cottages set in delightful grounds with sheep and ducks wandering around, but it’s deserted. The pool’s empty, the garden furniture piled up against a wall. There are no other guests, just a few staff. We can only presume it’s the end of the season.
A storm’s brewing, thunder rolling through the hills and lightning. There’s a sign at the front door with a long list of things the hotel won’t cover you for, including robbery, theft, fire, hail and lightning. We’d better be careful.
•
Brian’s running a temperature and feeling really bad. I can’t convince him to see the doctor because he’s convinced he knows what’s wrong — it’s the malaria medication. Risk or no risk, he stops taking the tablets. I’ve stopped feeling unwell but I’m still getting sunburnt when there’s the slightest hint of sunshine, but I’ll persevere.
It doesn’t take long for Brian to feel better, so maybe he’s right. He’s fighting fit when we take our first safari into Kruger National Park. We’re joined by two older Irish couples, Akbar and Beth and Renee and Jimmy. They’re an interesting group: Akbar and Beth love South Africa so much they live here for six months of the year; their friends from the Antrim Coast in Northern Ireland are here on holidays and keen to see it all.
They might be our lucky charms. Right inside the gate we see one of the Big 5 — the Cape buffalo. They’re massive and quite cute, in a funny sort of way, with their curved horns at the top of the head like a moustache. They look a little like a barbershop quartet.
We move on into the park and see a giraffe a long way off eating the treetops. Then we see elephants — just a couple. It’s not even breakfast time and we’ve seen two of the Big 5.
An old lion is asleep by the roadside. He looks a bit on the thin side but our guide assures us he’d move pretty quickly if we stepped foot outside of the truck. Three of the Big 5.
There are heaps of impala throughout the park. We see lots of elephants, more giraffe — much closer to the road this time — and zebras. We pass a herd of elephants with lots of little ones, but our guide doesn’t want to linger. Another guid
e on the two-way radio has told him about a rhino and he wants to get there before it moves off.
We round a bend and there he is, a massive rhino wallowing in a mud hole. Four of the Big 5.
It’s hard to believe that these animals are being hunted into extinction, even here in the national park. It’s early January and three have been killed already this year. They’re hunted for their horns because some Asians believe it has miraculous powers. It beggars belief. If the poaching continues at this rate there’ll be no rhino in 20 years.
Brian: There are plenty of warning signs at our hotel about the hippos and crocs in the river and lake in the hotel grounds. There’s also bilharzia, caused by a parasite that comes from snails and loves living in humans. We have this in mind when we wade through the raging water to get to our room after a tropical downpour. And people say Australia is a dangerous place to visit.
•
Four down — one to go. On our second safari into Kruger our guide Gavin takes us straight to an area where leopards were seen yesterday. They’re not here today. We spy some giraffes and a warthog sunning itself on a rock. There are lots of Cape buffalo about and more elephants.
A mother and baby elephant come out of the bush near our truck and back away as soon as she sees us. We round a corner and she’s right in front of us this time. You can tell she’s not happy about us being so close to her baby.
Further down the track a couple of young elephants are grazing on a tree. They’ve pulled huge limbs onto the track and are happily munching away in the morning sun. We can’t get past, but that’s not a problem. We just sit and watch these huge beasts enjoying themselves.
We don’t think it can get much better than this, but it does. Gavin’s been told about a mating pair of lions by other guides so he heads to the location. They’re lying in the grass and are so well camouflaged we would’ve missed them if it wasn’t for the eagle eyes of our guide. Gavin tells us that lions mate 150 times over a three day period, that’s once every 20 minutes or so. We don’t wait long before the pair come out of the long grass and do the deed. He roars with pleasure and you can see his enormous teeth. She growls and lies on her back. Gavin tells us the male has a low sperm count and the female does this to ensure fertilisation. I don’t think I’d tell the lion that.
The female walks towards our truck and lies down, resting against the front wheel. The male walks alongside, so close I could lean out and touch him. The male stays with the female for the three-day mating period to make sure no other males father her cubs. After a little rest they’re on the move, walking up the roadway. We follow them for a while and then leave them to enjoy the rest of their time together. This has been the most incredible experience — just a metre or two away from lions as they mate and then literally centimetres away from them afterwards.
There are zebras galore and we learn that they’ve never been used like horses because their backs aren’t so strong and they’re basically lazy.
Gavin hears about a couple of rhinos and takes us to them. He lets us in on a secret. When the guides talk to each other on the radio they speak in Zulu so the tourists can’t understand them. This way hopes and expectations aren’t lifted. The park is so vast by the time guides get to the sighting the animals can be long gone.
There are two rhinos playing in the mud, keeping a watchful eye on us as they move away from the mud to some foliage. They don’t seem too concerned, but they certainly don’t want us to get too close. If Gavin moves the truck they back away. It’s time to leave them in peace.
We may not have seen the leopard but we’ve been privileged to see many ‘once in a lifetime’ sights. We’ve also learnt some collective nouns like a dazzle of zebras, a journey of giraffes, a crash of rhinos, a raft of hippos and a troop of baboons.
•
Gavin suggested we visit the Moholoholo Wildlife Rehabilitation Centre. We don’t get too far when we come across a massive line of trucks, buses and vans pulled over. People are sitting in the shade on the side of the road, obviously in for a long wait.
I presume there’s been an accident and work my way through the traffic. I ride around a tree that’s been pulled onto the road. At the top of the line of about 20 vehicles there’s another, much bigger tree across the road.
We can hear singing and see a group of about 50 Zulu women waving sticks and machetes. Despite the weapons they don’t look intimidating. In fact they seem pretty happy. They’re smiling at us and one even gives Shirl a high-five.
Then a man armed with a stick appears from the crowd and he’s not happy. He’s shouting and gesturing for us to go back and within seconds we’re surrounded by people. Now we feel threatened. The man with the stick isn’t smiling and the crowd is surging around us.
The women start to argue with the angry man and then another man steps forward. A huge smile erupts on his face. He shakes hands with Brian and signals for us to ride around the tree. As quickly as it started it’s over. The crowd parts and we ride past what we now realise is a roadblock of angry workers. We don’t know what their beef is, but they’re not happy. This could’ve ended badly.
The police at the other side of the roadblock aren’t happy either. Rather than returning our wave as we ride off they just glare at us.
Strikes are prevalent in South Africa. The farm workers are on strike now and the newspapers are reporting deaths of rioting strikers. They get paid 75 rand a day (about $7.00) and want to double that to 150 rand (less than $15.00). We don’t know how they live on these wages, when we consider Shirl paid 29 rand for a kilo of nectarines at the supermarket. These rural workers wouldn’t be able to shop there.
Shirley: At the Moholoholo Wildlife Rehabilitation Centre there are signs warning visitors to stay in their car because of the dangerous animals. Right.
Many of the animals here have been raised as pets and can’t be released into the wild or have been injured and can’t fend for themselves.
There are birds of prey, some that have been nursed back to health after being poisoned by local farmers. Brian hand feeds one. He’s definitely the thrill seeker. The centre’s lions are now ‘ambassadors for their breed’. The males had ventured into farmland and began attacking livestock. They were captured and brought here.
The beautiful leopard had been kept as a pet and the cheetahs were raised in captivity. They’re now used to educate hunters and farmers that these beautiful creatures have a place in our world and should be allowed to live. We even get to pat one of the cheetahs and she’s purring like a kitten.
The two baby rhinos won’t stay here. One will go to a game reserve and the other, eventually, released back into the wild.
•
The Blyde River Canyon is renowned as one of the best motorcycle roads in this part of South Africa and one of the most beautiful. The rock faces are incredible with escarpments of deepest reds. There are some interesting rock formations like the Three Rondavels, shaped like the traditional roundhouses in the Zulu villages, and the deep holes created over centuries of erosion exposing the vivid colours of the rock. Walking around in our bike gear is hot and difficult but the views are worth it.
By the time we get to God’s Window the weather has turned and the tropical rain is pouring down. We’re getting used to these torrential downpours.
Brian: This rain is fine but it can make for some tricky riding conditions. It also makes sightseeing difficult. There’s no way we can be bothered stopping in Swaziland in this heavy rain. It only takes us a couple of hours to ride through the Kingdom of Swaziland and the highway takes us past the turnoff to the Royal Palace, but we just press on to get to Pongola, back in South Africa.
The guesthouse is at the end of a dirt track that’s now a quagmire. It’s a slippery ride up and I wonder if we’ll be able to get out if the rain keeps up. The restaurant is at a nearby game reserve lodge, owned by the family who own the guesthouse. They let us take their 4WD car the five kilometres over more dirt and rocky roads. Just as well.
I don’t think we’d get up the track in this weather.
If the rain keeps up I’ll have to get Shirl a lift out in the 4WD and I’ll ride the bike down without her weight on the back. Luckily it eases up overnight and the storm passes before breakfast.
•
It’s only a short ride to St Lucia on the south-eastern coast, south of Swaziland. It’s famous for its wetlands and there’s another game reserve nearby that we’ve heard is brilliant: Hluhluwe IMfolozi Game Reserve (pronounced shl-shluey imfol ozee). The Zulani Guesthouse is a perfect base, just a short walk from town and the river. The downside is that hippos come quite close to the house at night to graze on the grasses and we’re warned not to go near them. They can cut up rough if disturbed. We don’t want to bump in to one — literally.
We take an open-sided truck tour into the iSimangaliso Wetlands because motorcycles aren’t allowed. We think our guide, Shakile, will take us for a drive through the wetlands to a beach for a swim and lunch and then home. This young Rastafarian with his huge smile and long dreads has a lot more in store for us.
Once we go through the gate Shakile ignores the road signs demanding everyone keep to the roads and heads overland through the high grass. We pass herds of Cape buffalo, a few zebra and lots of antelope. We see warthogs, dung beetles doing their thing, hippos and birds galore. There are six rhino in the park and we see five of them, grazing on a hillside. This is fantastic.
At Cape Vidal we’re warned to keep an eye on our belongings. Within minutes of parking, monkeys are in the truck opening all the containers looking for our food. They’re most disappointed when they only find snorkelling gear.
Shakile is preparing a braai (BBQ) for lunch and the monkeys sit in the trees watching, waiting for a chance to swoop. They’re fast, really fast. In seconds one is out of the tree, into the picnic basket and off with a plastic container. He drops it before he gets back to the trees so we don’t lose our lunch. Others aren’t so lucky. The monkeys get away with bread and even steal bananas being cooked on the braai in their skins. They’re hilarious. Well, it’s funny for us because we still get to have lunch.
Circle to Circle Page 28