The Silly Season

Since the last blog, there have been relatively few mechanical issues!

There have however been significant mechanical developments. I am now on a bike!

You may remember that through Malawi, Cam and I travelled with a big red Dutchman named Rob and that this gave him an opportunity to rest his weary arse and me an opportunity to get some bike time.  Since then, whilst we were having Mozambique gearbox issues, Rob rode the Baja (pictured below) down to Jo’burg.  In an incredibly generous gesture, Rob then allowed me to ride the Baja down to his mate in Cape Town for sale.  And since then, due to detailed and boring customs/duties reasons that I won’t tire you with, we’ve arranged for me to continue with the Baja and see it out of the SACU (Southern Africa Customs Union) zone, ie into Angola. It’s two blokes helping each other out.

So, let me introduce you in more detail to the Baja.  The Baja is a Honda with beautiful bug eyes and a slender 250CC body.  She has a perky, burgundy chest, emblazoned with bright flame tats. She was born in Brazil (I think) and has the soul of an off-road country girl, with some inner-city refinements like a broader saddle that is easier on your bollocks than her country cousins.  She’s light, so you can throw her around a bit, but she’s got pull, so she’s great for getting down and dirty in the gravel and mud (which has already, and will likely continue to prove to be very practical).  On the tarmac, she’s sensible and takes it at a steady 80-90km/h.  She’s a little older (in her sixties), so she can be prone to clatter on a bit and I sometimes worry about her internals.  But on the whole she’s only missed the odd step and her bouts of feinting and incontinence are rare (but not unknown).  I’ve loved sharing the road with her the last 4000 odd kms and hope there will be a few more to come. 

Update

After Jo’burg, I mounted the Baja to give Cam a little privacy and get under the Badger’s hood to work out a few issues.  The Baja and I struck south for the Drakensberg and the Coast, and a little more of the travel I had envisioned came forth.  South Africa provided busy hostels, friendly backpackers, other bikers, some stunning scenery, great food and reasonably priced beers.

Down the wild coast, I met some great people and enjoyed some beautiful roads and beaches.  I understand that the ‘Wild’ness of this coast refers to the hangovers one is likely to endure.  The Wild Coast gave way to the Garden Route where I was reunited with Cam and the Badger, and joined by Sinclair who flew over to join the caravan for a few weeks.  The Garden Route reminds me a lot of the Southern Victorian Coast and the Great Ocean Road, except reasonably priced and without the crowds (despite how busy the locals may think it gets).  We admired one of the worlds best breaks at Jeffrey’s Bay; jumped the world’s highest bridge bungy at Bloukran’s bridge Natures Valley; enjoyed oysters, craft beer, beach time and paragliding at Wilderness; touched the bottom of Africa at Cape A’Gulhas; shared freezing waters with Great Whites at Gaansbai and cruised into Cape Town for Christmas.

Cape Town is a stunning city.  Rides around table mountain and cliff-hugging roads down the coast were simply spectacular.  Couple that with great bars and cafes and you can pencil me in for the next Test Australia plays there (after the upcoming March series, which I can’t believe we will just miss…)  We spent a day on the Wine Tram out at Franschoek, which would have to be one of the most incredibly picturesque wine regions in the world, with an excellent range of wines (definitely not a one-trick pony). We spent Christmas in Cape Town and feasted on seafood, meat, spoils from the Wine Tram and Star Wars. My only regrets in Cape Town were not getting more time to meet the Baxters (the Foletta’s South African relos) and allowing myself to get pickpocketed one night.

All too soon, we had to leave Cape Town and South Africa to Namibia, where we wanted to spend New Year’s in Swakopmund.  Sinkas flew, whilst Cam and I rode/drove the 1500km.  Windswept coastal dunes gave way to desert and dramatic arid landscapes in Namibia.  Namibia would have to be one of the most picturesque countries I have ever visited.  It is dry, sparsely populated and unfailingly beautiful. 

After a Jagermeister fuelled New Years (I don’t think I’ve had Jager since schoolies) with the Germanic Namibians in Swakopmund and a successful days deep-sea fishing for Snoek amongst packs of sealions, Sinkas and I dropped Cam off at the airport to head home for Brazel’s wedding (#Brazonaleash).  Sinks and I then made a bee-line for Etosha National Park.  Etosha is famed for its waterholes, where one can sit back and enjoy a shandy, or a red wine or two whilst the animals come to you.  Although we were there in a season that was meant to be too wet for this, Sinkas had the lucky charm and we enjoyed close-up encounters with lions, rhinos, elephants and even a leopard dragging its kill into the undergrowth.  We braai-ed, lounged by the pool and guzzled a few froths down by the waterhole, enjoying the evening procession of game also seeking to slake a day’s thirst. After Etosha, we roadtripped through the stunning Damaraland, which would go toe to toe with any Arizona landscape and Sinclair’s brief jaunt was over.

Next

So since Sinclair left, I’ve had a week in Windhoek to sit still, recharge, replenish and plan the next ridiculous step.

Where to from here? The heart of darkness.

I hope to live to tell you the tale and I promise the stories will be better than this time around… ;)

Stu

(P.S. I’ve finally posted the photos from Mozambique, Zimbabwe, Zambia and Botswana. The ones from Botswana are the best. I hope to have posted South Africa and Namibia by the time most of you read this. Also, if you have been looking for it, I’ve disabled the tracking ‘Whereabouts’ feature for security reasons moving forward. You’ll be able to see the whole trip once I emerge the other side.)