When we left Maputo on Monday 21 June we had only one day of cycling left to the border town of Namaacha before leaving Mozambique and getting to Swaziland. As per usual the last day in every country has been difficult so far and this day was no exception. After leaving Maputo the landscape and scenery changed dramatically and we were in for a nasty surprise as we headed towards Swaziland. This little surprise comprised of some very big climbs before we eventually reached Namaacha that evening in a state of utter exhaustion.
The next day we went into Swaziland. Here I found the curious phenomenon of money changing touts who all seem very honest and proper. Usually getting some currency when crossing a border involves a tout who first tries to sell you the currency of the country you are entering at a ridiculous rate. When you politely refuse this there are usually about ten others promising a better rate and from there on the whole transaction quickly turns to a shouting match between touts, all of them deeply aggrieved when you and one of their colleagues finally strike a deal. You, yourself, also feel aggrieved, not because you got a bad rate (which you invariably get), but because you had to conduct a transaction with one of these scoundrels. In Swaziland this whole scenario is completely different. One gentleman politely approaches you and offers you the same rate as you would get at any bureau de change. There is no room for bargaining here and the practice is almost frowned upon by these dignified currency traders.
On our first day in this small monarchy we cycled to the Hlane Game Sanctuary where we stayed in the lovely Ndlovu Camp for two nights. This place is so well kept that it is hard to leave. In the reserve they have the Big Five and although the lions are kept in a separate enclosure, one can hear them roar at night – one of the most delightful sounds one could hope to hear in the bush. There is also a waterhole right next to the camp where we saw hippo, white rhino, elephant, nyala and an array of other species.
From Hlane we made our way past Big Bend in the heart of sugar cane country and from there we continued south where we stayed at a lodge close to the town of Nsoko on our last night in Swaziland. The next morning we left there and went out of this little neighboring country as quick as we went in.
The little bit we saw of Swaziland impressed me and I think it will be worthwhile spending more time in this little jewel on the northern boundary of our county when I do get the opportunity somewhere down the line.
Getting out of Swaziland meant one thing for us, and that is that we were back in our own country after more than three months! We were a cheerful and happy bunch as we entered South Africa at the Golela border post, exited to be back home, especially during this special time with the World Cup and everything that comes with it. We cycled on the N2 until we came to the town of Mkuze and from there we turned off the main road onto a little road leading to the town of uBombo. I am not one to exaggerate as a general rule. But take my advice and never, never ever cycle from Mkuze to uBombo, if you do not absolutely have to. It was the most horrendous climb of my life and although it is just 8km long, it feels like an eternity. I run the risk of sounding like Holden Caulfield here, but it nearly killed me, it really did.
The other thing you should never do is to cycle down that mountain once you are at the top at uBombo. The climb to get there is bad enough but at least the road is tarred. What is supposed to be sweet reward for all your climbing efforts of the previous day turns out to be a bit of a disappointment, since the road on the other side is the most horrendous gravel road you could ever wish to come across. Not even the Mozambicans will drive on this road. I do not wish to disclose any of the further miseries myself and my two brave young companions suffered on that fateful day, suffice it to say that we managed to reach Sodwana Bay early that afternoon. How we got there is irrelevant for purposes of this blog entry. I am sure you are in no mood to be disappointed by stories of guys who have conquered Africa on their bikes sheepishly hiking for a lift by the side of the road. End of discussion.
We spent a couple of days in Sodwana, but unfortunately the weather was not great and when it was time to move on we made our way to Hluhluwe where we camped at a backpackers right next to the Hluhluwe Game Reserve. We had a great meal, great conversation with a group of French Canadian travelers and I even had to listen to one of those 50-year old American backpackers travelling on their own who eats cereal for supper and who tends to tell you that coming to Africa is not a vacation man, it’s really hard work! (I bet you can hear him rolling his r’s right now). Stefan showed his true colours by abandoning me 2 minutes into this particular conversation, pretending to go help Lodie cook our food or something. After about 30 minutes I had enough of this great world traveler’s views and sneaked off, under the pretence of getting myself another beer. The main thing here is that people who eat cereal for supper are not to be trusted.
And so we went to bed…and just after two in the morning we woke up to find that somebody had snuck into the three-man tent where Stefan and I were sleeping and made off with a lot of our stuff. By the time we realised what was going on, the thieves had just about cleared the electric fence. Stefan lost only a backpack with some clothes, but I lost my pannier bags, backpack, valuables and my enthusiasm to be back in South Africa. Needless to say, the next few days were a mess, trying to sort out my life.
We headed to Richards bay, where we were very kindly put up by strangers, who had heard about our little adventure. I would go into a bank with only a scanned email copy of my ID and the clerk would eye me suspiciously. He would then go and speak to his manager or supervisor or whoever he could shift responsibility to and then come back telling me that he cannot help me. I would then ask to speak to this manager/supervisor/carrier of responsibility. This Important Person would then come over and eye me suspiciously again. I would explain my predicament to him or her and just when this Person was about to refuse I would give them the lazy eye which seemed to finally persuade them to just call my branch. They would then proceed to discuss the whole scenario with some other person as if I was not there and would say things like “now if his signature does not match, we will have to…” (you get the picture). Eventually I succeeded in getting back two new bank cards, a SIM card, a bottom of the range Nokia phone and a bit of my dignity.
This whole incident was obviously a big disappointment, but I decided that it was not worth brooding on, so we just put the whole mess behind us for now. We cycled from Richards Bay to Mtunzini and the day after that to Durban where we spent a few days. On Tuesday we will be heading further south down the coast, hopefully the crooks will leave us alone for a change!
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