Photos from Durban.

So from the Swaziland border with our med school student friend/driver, we set off for Durban.

We drove through a fantastic thunderstorm as we neared the coast and then we saw the neon lights of Miami, I mean, Durban.

We checked into the Happy Hippo Backpackers Lodge, which was huge, much bigger than any other place we had stayed in, probably because they built up instead of out. It was so nice, it felt as nice (if not nicer than most) a hotel.

The next morning we went exploring and running errands. The public transport in Durban was unmatched anywhere else we had been. The main bus we took was so easy to follow and it was called the People Mover, an apt name indeed. We didn’t have a lot on our list of tourist attractions except for the Moses Mabhida Stadium and the Victoria Street Market. But Ben had to wire some money to a friend and we figured we could try to exchange our Malawian kwacha, as well as register our South African SIM cards.

That was one frustrating thing about South Africa being more developed infrastructure-wise compared to the other southern African countries we visited. Just about everywhere else, it is very easy to get a SIM card and airtime, costing no more than $2 US for the SIM. But South Africa had to be a bit difficult. Luckily, while we were in Bloemfontein after Lesotho, the guys at the MTN store helped us out and then we were on our merry way.

OK I realize this is a bit tough to follow, but just bear with me. As we tried to find someone who would exchange our poor, poor Malawian kwacha, we had no luck. Every time we tried, people looked at us, bewildered and perplexed. Some even laughed right in our faces. Basically, since Malawian kwacha is a soft currency, for the most part, it isn’t available outside of Malawi. Our fate was sealed; we were stuck with over $100 US worth of Malawian kwacha.

No matter, we weren’t going to let this proverbial rain cloud hang above us while the Durban summer sun was upon us. We set off to the Victoria Street Market, famous for its local Indian influences.

I am not kidding, you could smell the market from several blocks away! The market was vibrant and filled with all sorts of spices: curry powders, garlic powders, peppercorns, coriander, cumin, chilies and more.

Smelling all of the fragrant spices made our stomachs grumble and mouths water, so we had to sample the most-talked about and sometimes most-confusing Durban dish: Bunny chow. Bunny chow is neither food for bunnies, nor food made from bunnies (thank goodness). Instead, it’s a delectable snack/lunch item where you get a hollowed-out hunk of white bread and have a delicious curry poured inside, kind of like the soup and bread bowl from Panera.

You don’t need any silverware for this street food. Just be sure to use your RIGHT HAND ONLY. According to Indian customs, you must never use your left hand for eating or handling food since that is reserved for bathroom use.

After we filled up on bunny chow, we explored some more of the market’s various stalls. At the persistent insistence of one older Indian shopkeeper, we stopped inside for a look. I noticed that most of the curios were very familiar, featuring Masai warriors. I asked the shopkeeper why this was and he said it was because South Africa does not produce most of the curios they sell…they import them from Kenya, Tanzania, etc.! Or if people from those countries move to South Africa, they make them and sell them. I couldn’t believe it.

We left Victoria Street Market a bit later than we had intended and we were racing against the clock for the start of the Moses Mabhida Stadium tour. We arrived 10 minutes after the tour was listed to start and asked if we could catch up to the tour. They said no, even after we made the joke that we were “running on African time.” Clearly South Africa doesn’t run on African time because the ticket man didn’t even giggle and said we could not join up with the tour.

I admit, I felt a bit crushed. If I’m in South Africa, I have to see at least one World Cup stadium; it’s my duty as a sports journalist and sports fan. I was not going to give up that easily.

We walked around the huge complex, which neighbors Durban’s rugby stadium, for a few minutes and stumbled upon a cable car. We asked if it was still open and the operators said yes, we just had to purchase tickets. We got tickets to ride the cable car to the top of the stadium for 360-degree views of Durban and the Indian Ocean.

Although I didn’t get to see the field, I was able to see stunning views of Durban as the sun was setting. After Ben and I took enough solo shots at the top, we headed back into town for some fish and chips—we’re at the beach, gotta have it.

After dinner we were able to take public transport back to a stop near our lodge. There is this cool park nearby that is kind of like Sea World. We strolled through and walked down to the boardwalk to see Durban at night on the beach. We also met two local sand artists who made stunning sandcastles.

I was sad to leave warm, sunny, spicy Durban. Durban is a very diverse and vibrant city, full of interesting history, friendly people and delicious foods.

The next morning we were off for Bloemfontein, a very long bus ride but on a very nice coach. From Bloemfontein we explored Lesotho. But the next post is all about Cape Town!

A few photos of Swaziland and Lesotho.

A little documentary clip of animals getting drunk from eating the overripe marula fruit.

The website for the company Ben and I visited in Swaziland. Products made from the marula nuts’ oil. Very hydrating oils, soaps, lip balms, etc.

Since Swaziland and Lesotho are two very small countries within South Africa, I decided to combine blog entries. Perhaps it’s a bit insulting to lump the two small countries into one blog post, but to be honest, I didn’t get to spend enough time in each country to warrant stand-alone entries.

Swaziland has beautiful and scenic valleys and mountainous rock outcrops. Like many African countries, adrenaline junkies can get a fix here. From canopy tours to mountaineering to whitewater rafting, there are a whole host of activities that I wish I had been able to do. We stayed at the Lidwala Backpackers, which was a very cute, rustic and secluded in the Ezulweni Valley, the most scenic place in the Kingdom.

We took full advantage of all of the plush chill spots at the lodge and vegged out in front of some DSTV…we were even able to catch some of the NCAA March Madness, which thrilled us two sports fans. Sadly for me though, it was part of the Big East tournament, not my favorite. But NCAA basketball in Swaziland?! Fine by me. We did a bit of hiking around the property but nothing too advantageous.

While in Swaziland, we had one of the best dinners I had in a long time. STEAK. As many of y’all know, I love steak. This was certainly a special treat and I was very happy to get some real meat and veg in my system. I don’t think I had any vegetables and very few fruits since we left Shannon in Ghanzi, so for the better part of two days, it was the standard bus buffet of biscuits, crisps and sweets, which, of course, are all very good for your digestive tract as well as your teeth.

Ben worked for a fair trade shop throughout college and one of the goods the store featured was a line of up-market cosmetics made from marula oil, called Swazi Secrets. I had never heard of Swazi Secrets or marula oil, but Ben really wanted to see the warehouse and workshop since we were in Swaziland after all. Ben got in contact with the owner/director, a charming and silly British fellow, John, and arranged for a private tour on Sunday morning since the factory was closed on Sunday.

The next morning, we checked out and headed toward the factory, which was about 15 kilometers or so away. John picked us on the side of the road and drove us to the factory. Once at the factory, we had a very thorough tour of all aspects of the brand, starting with the basics of what exactly is marula oil.

The Swazi women collect the marula nuts, which grow on trees, and brew a beer from them through a fermentation process. But before they brew the beer, they sell the nuts to Swazi secrets and those working at the factory extract the oil from the nuts. Marula oil has a lot of vitamins and nutrients, like vitamin E, which helps soothe dry skin and lock in moisture. A funny aspect about the marula nut is that elephants eat them and get drunk—seriously, drunk elephants. If you watch a lot of Animal Planet, Discovery Channel or National Geographic, chances are you’ve seen a clip of the drunk elephants.

But back to the tour: Swazi Secrets is very adamant about leaving very little by-product waste, so even once the oil is extracted and pressed from the nut, the leftover gritty bits are used in the exfoliating creams. Some of their products that use marula oil are lip balm, soap and then the oil itself is quite nice. We were able to sample some of the oil and it really penetrates the skin and refreshes it, very hydrating.

The cosmetics are so effective and popular, Elle UK magazine featured them as a winner during their annual “best of the best”-type rankings. Cosmetics that not only make you feel good but do good as well.

After the tour (and purchasing an assorted bundle of products, which was at wholesale price as well as packaged in a hand-woven basket), we asked John what the best way to get to Durban would be; we were already about halfway to Durban, but we had no idea what the public transport would be like. We decided earlier that if we could get to the border, then certainly we would be able to hitch with someone to Durban.

I know, you may think, “Hitchhiking? In Africa?! No. Way.” But Ben has it down to a science—only go with families or women. Sounds easy enough. And of course, always offer to contribute to petrol.

Our luck kept finding us: One of John’s employees at Swazi Secrets was headed toward the border that very afternoon and offered us a lift. Wow, were we in luck! The hour-and-a-half drive through Swaziland to the southeastern border with South Africa was absolutely stunning. Sugar cane plantations, lakes, rivers, escarpments and dramatic cloud formations entertained us throughout the ride. We were very grateful for the kindness we experienced so far in Swaziland.

When we reached the border, our new friend waited until we had secured transport to Durban, and the border patrol people were very helpful in finding us a driver/travel companion. We ended up accompanying a Swazi med school student who studies in Durban, Frances. She actually was very happy to have company because she was a very nervous driver (and told us several times, lolz). We had a lot of good chats and were able to get some tips about where to go and what to see in Durban.

The roads throughout South Africa and Swaziland were impeccable—there were several times when I had to remind myself I wasn’t in Europe or the US—they’re that good.

Sorry to be switching gears and locations rapidly, but the next bit is about Lesotho, another tiny, mountainous country surrounded by South Africa. We figured out how to get to Lesotho by leaving Durban (will blog about Durban in the next post) and heading to Bloemfontein, South Africa. From Bloemfontein, it was about three hours to Lesotho.

The only snag we had in exploring this beautiful little nation was the bus schedule. We left Bloemfontein at 6 a.m. and arrived at the capital, Maseru, around 9 a.m. The problem was that the next bus back to Bloemfontein would be at 11 a.m. We were planning on taking an overnight bus from Bloemfontein to Cape Town that evening, so we couldn’t afford to struggle to get back to Bloemfontein. Unfortunately, we spent all of two hours exploring Maseru.

We were able to see some of the sites and a market before we crossed the border back to South Africa. Two hours for a passport stamp…some may say I’m crazy but I say why not? It was a little bit of a letdown to spend so little time in Lesotho (and the border patrol thought we were pretty nuts as well).

But in hindsight, I do not regret visiting Lesotho. I now know that for both Lesotho and Swaziland, these interesting destinations deserve at least three days to explore thoroughly. Pony trekking is the main draw for Lesotho, and it looks and sounds absolutely splendid. Something to do next time…

Now off for a post about Durban and after that, the many adventures of Cape Town!

One of my favorite scenes in “Bridesmaids.” Lots of puppies, lots of energy, eerily similar to our time in Ghanzi, Botswana.

Our luck seemed to find us again on the bus from Gabs to Ghanzi, Botswana. About midway through the trip, another mzungu boarded the bus, seemingly out from the bush. Turns out she is a PeaceCorps volunteer headed our way. We chatted and said we weren’t sure where we would stay for a few nights, so she called her fellow PeaceCorps volunteer who is based in Ghanzi.

We got out at Ghanzi and met Shannon, who invited us to stay at her place FO FREE. #winning.

Ghanzi is a lot like an Appalachian Trail town…sparsely populated, several grocery/supply stores and one or two good restaurants. Ghanzi also seemed like the perfect starting point for a day-trip safari into the Kalahari Desert; the Botswana tourism office was phenomenal.

We went back to Shannon’s house and were greeted by 10 barking and adorable puppies! It was exactly like the scene from “Bridesmaids” when Megan takes nine puppies. “I took nine, it’s a lot of energy.”

Shannon said that her neighbor had the pregnant mother but left her behind when they moved and then the dog had puppies at Shannon’s house. The mom is kind of a feral dog, but very friendly. She comes and goes as she pleases. The puppies were about five weeks old and so fun to play with. There were so many! And they were in the middle of housebreaking, so you had to watch where you stepped… 

We spent most of our first day enjoying the fact that we were not on a hot, crowded bus and playing with puppies. We also went to bed ridiculously early and in a real bed, the first in over two days. It’s the little things in life that make you appreciate creature comforts.

The next morning we continued to “explore” Ghanzi and tried to figure out how to get out and safari. We stopped by the tourism office, where the hospitality was a little overwhelming—they must not receive visitors all that often. They gave us a ton of information and really nice tourism books, full of stunning photos of animals. But we found out that it would cost about $300 US for a day trip into the Kalahari…that just was waaaay too out of our price range. Gotta leave something for next time. Their tourism office definitely convinced me that my next big safari trip to southern Africa would include the Okavango Delta, the world’s largest inland delta, in northern Botswana and some of the salt pans in the Kalahari. It’s absolutely breathtaking and definitely a place to check off the bucket list.

Instead, Shannon invited us to go with her friend from South Africa, Dieter, to this little game ranch for some happy hour drinks. We rode in the bed of the pickup truck and saw some plains game in the Kalahari. It was a very budget safari!

To show Shannon how gracious we were for letting two complete strangers crash at her place for free for two days, we took her to the fanciest restaurant in Ghanzi…the Kalahari Arms Hotel. We feasted on pizza and wine, and it was surprisingly pretty good pizza!

We woke up early the next day to head back to Gabs because from Gabs we were planning to take a minibus/comvee to Johannesburg, South Africa that evening.

When we got back to Gabs, we were directed to where the minibus to Jo-burg was stationed and it was the nicest matatu I had ever seen! It was a very comfortable, spacious 12-passenger van. It didn’t take us long to get to Jo-burg but frustration hit when we arrived in Jo-burg. I had written down the names of several backpackers’ lodges for a taxi driver to take us to, yet the driver had never heard of any of the places! That was baffling, clearly a sign he was not a very knowledgeable taxi driver. We ended up staying in one of the most expensive places we stayed in during our entire trip, simply out of convenience and tiredness.

The next morning we woke up relatively early again to take another minibus/comvee to Swaziland. We walked to the bus stage and two police officers waved us down to ask us why we were walking since Jo-burg is notoriously infamous for its high crime rate. Well, we were walking in broad daylight on busy streets, why wouldn’t we walk? We didn’t think the police officers did a very good job of assuring tourists that Jo-burg was a safe place to visit…

But now, off to the Kingdom of Swaziland!

Zimbabwe’s crazy currency. Officially the USD is Zimbabwe’s currency, yet they accept Euros, UK sterling and SA Rands too. The $1 bills are very dirty since they are used so frequently.

Here is the infamous one hundred TRILLION dollar note from Zimbabwe during it’s historic hyperinflation years. Quite unfathomable.

Well my faithful readers, we’re “on the road again,” avoiding immigration officials, sleeping in bus stations and withdrawing US dollars from ATMs.

Doesn’t seem like real life, right? My thoughts exactly. But alas, in this crazy world, that is how I can summarize our journey out of Malawi, through Mozambique and Zimbabwe and into Botswana.

We left Blantyre, Malawi Monday 5 March. The bus ticket cost $25 US and we had to pay for it in USD. OK, no need to panic (yet). I had enough to cover for my ticket and for Ben’s, but Ben didn’t end up paying for his because the bus driver didn’t charge him. Why, you may ask? Because for the first jolt of travel electricity into your spine, the conductor and driver told Ben that sometimes wazungu from the US don’t make it across the Mozambican border since their immigration guidelines are strict and officials are reluctant to dole out entry visas upon arrival. Great. Wish we had known that before we pulled out of the bus station.

So it was a tense few hours on the bus until we reached the Malawian border. Flew through Malawian immigration without a hitch until it came to boarding the bus again. We had planned to change money at the border—it’s not technically the “black market,” rather the “parallel market,” and in Malawi right now, the only way to exchange kwacha for other currency.

I didn’t stutter—you heard right: Malawi does not have any other way to exchange its kwacha for foreign currency, except via a semi-illegal route at border crossings. There are no dollars, euros, sterling or even South African rand to be able to exchange money legitimately.

Thus the guys at the border, who get neighboring countries’ currencies by unknown means, make an absurdly ridiculous exchange rate that is at least half of what it is supposed to be. Meaning if I had 30,000 Malawian kwacha, the rate should be 166 kwacha to $1 US. But at the border, for 30,000 kwacha, they were saying you could get the equivalent of $100 US, even though that is $80 US less than what it was supposed to be. We decided to take the advice we heard from other passengers: They said in South Africa we could change kwacha for a legitimate rate.

One little problem—there was an immigration official or police officer at the bus door asking everyone if they had more than 3,000 kwacha and if you did, then they forced you to change it at the exorbitant rate. Ben and I, being tight-budget travelers, decided to wait until a more lucrative opportunity presented itself to us. So, in a nutshell, we were smuggling money out of Malawi.

We got back on the bus and drove quite a bit through either “no-man’s land” or actually part of Mozambique before we reached the border control. When we arrived at the Mozambican border, I thought we were about to be locked up abroad and that was certainly a very low point in my life.

We put on our most acquiescing and polite faces, although I probably looked like a very sad, scared and dirty person since the bus ride was very hot and dusty. We calmly asked the immigration officer if we could get a multi-entry visa. His response: “NO.” So then we asked for a transit visa. His response: “NO.” When those two options didn’t work, he said we had to pay $70 US for a single-entry visa. “SINGLE-ENTRY ONLY,” he barked.

I did not have that amount for the visa, I hadn’t prepared for that because I had to pay for the bus ticket in USD. Ben didn’t have any dollars since he was borrowing from me. The tears are welling up, people are shouting in Portuguese, the other passengers want to leave without us…disaster had struck. Luckily Ben thought to ask the bus conductor and driver if we could borrow money from them and pay them back (with interest/a bonus) when we got to Zimbabwe so we could withdraw USD from an ATM. They were our saving grace as we continued through the immigration process, pole pole, “slowly by slowly.” 

The border control agent used the “hunt-and-peck” technique to type up our visas, then we had to take a (horrendous) photo and wait for the visa to print out and plastered into our passports. After the whole laborious process, I just wanted to get back on the bus and melt into the seat. Then began our five-hour “stay” in Mozambique.

The countryside was beautiful but I could not enjoy it fully because of the border situation; I had a bad taste in my mouth and was tired. We raced through a spectacular African thunderstorm as we approached the Mozambican/Zimbabwean border. Crossing into Zimbabwe was such a relief and went much more smoothly than I expected; we were able to obtain a transit visa for only $30 US as opposed to the $50 US for single-entry. Talk about a dollar saver menu at the border.

After a few more hours of traveling, we arrived in Harare, the bustling capital of Zimbabwe, where we promptly searched for a Barclay’s ATM to withdraw American dollars. That was strange. I don’t understand the economics or mechanics behind the fact that Zimbabwe defaulted to the USD when their own Zimbabwean dollars had such a high inflation rate (I’m talking there is a one hundred TRILLION dollar note, which I have as a souvenir). But it was good to pay the very nice conductor and driver back for helping us cross the borders.

Unfortunately, there are not too many backpackers’ lodges in Harare since most backpackers’ head straight for Vic Falls. Since we were already feeling tight on cash and time, we opted for the free rest at the bus station, on the bus. Low point? Possibly.

The next morning we were on the road again toward Gaborone, Botswana. The capital of Botswana is affectionately known as Gabs, and it was 20+ hours away from Harare! At least this bus was a bit more comfortable, but the ride increasingly skidded down to new all-time lows. Things could have been a lot worse: After crossing the border from Zimbabwe to Botswana, I realized a very valuable piece of luggage was missing. I frantically sprinted back to the Zimbabwean border and asked if anyone had found a blue Nakumatt bag with a stuffed animal and camera, among other things, inside. I almost left Biggie Bunny behind! The camera, that’s easily replaceable. Biggie Bunny? Not so much.

We arrived in Gabs around 3:30 a.m. and like in Harare, there aren’t a lot of backpackers/youth hostels. So, we slept on the bus for a mere 2.5 hours before we set off for Ghanzi, the capital of the Kalahari Desert.

So ends the transitional post, crossing borders and long bus rides.

Next stop, Botswana, Swaziland, Lesotho and South Africa!