Page 16
Swaziland 
South Africa 
DAY 54
Feb. 23, 2000
Mbabane,
Swaziland to Nsoko
Hello!
Guess what we found when we awoke this morning! More rain! Again we lined up and
ate in the rain. But by now some folks had had enough. They were getting out of
there one way or another. Even Steve, my riding buddy of the day before was
going to go and Biker Al too was leaving. People were piling over each other to
get into the Timbali Caravan Park’s office to make inquiries and arrangements.
I couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. Sure it was raining but we all had
rain gear, it was warm enough, and this day’s terrain was to be a lot easier
than yesterday’s. Besides I reasoned, it is going to be
raining here and there all year, what are we going to do, get on a bus
every time it rains?
So
I set out, alone this time because I hadn’t made plans to ride with anyone and
couldn’t see anyone else ready to go. The first hour or so was the worst,
after that we seemed to be riding away from the rain. I had no trouble during
that hour, but there were accidents. In Swaziland they have rotary
crossings where streets meet and at those things everyone drives round and round
in circles waiting for an opportunity to break free and dart off onto a side
road. There don’t seem to be any particular rules and there are no lanes
marked on the pavement, it is like bumper cars really. I approached the rotary
at the 22.4 km. mark on our DRG with some trepidation as I have always hated
those things and I wasn’t sure what ‘straight more or less’ would look
like. This is what the guide says:
The
countryside in Swaziland is just as beautiful as in South Africa and they seem
to raise the same crops, sugar cane, corn, trees, pineapples and other fruit.
The people for the most part have been friendly. Most look healthy and well fed
although clearly some are very poor. The children wear school uniforms and walk
long distances to and from school. The men may have more than one wife.
Our
campsite that night at Nisela Safaris was as soggy as could be but it was a
special place. I was amazed to find an ostrich walking about among the tents. It
was completely comfortable with people. A wild ostrich, it had walked in one day
and had refused to leave. The safari people had tried releasing it far away but
it found its way back. Although I saw it as an attraction they found it to be a
nuisance as it messed the walks and even people who passed too closely at the
wrong moment. Those folks also kept a young warthog and a lion cub that they had
hand raised. The warthog didn’t really want to be bothered by people but the
cub loved to play. It played ‘tackle and chew’. I can now claim that I have
been bitten by a lion! It’s only a small scratch and may not even leave a scar
but I hope it does. The lion cub also amused itself by chasing the warthog. The
cub is 5 months old now and will soon be taken to a rehabilitation center where
they will teach it to survive and eventually release it.
That
evening we were treated to a typical Swazi meal, a speech by the Minister of
Tourism, and Swazi dancing and music. It was still raining but we were under a
shelter and had tables and chairs. The cooks had built a big fire and cooked our
food in enormous black pots. The pots could only be moved by two men holding an
end of a stick suspending the pot from the handle. They cooked pasta, rice,
stew, potatoes, vegetables and mush that way.
Goodbye!
Alice
DAY 55
Feb.
23, 200
Nsoko,
Swaziland to Hluhluwe, South Africa
Hello!
It was still raining. But I didn’t care. I wouldn’t have missed playing with
the lion cub for anything. I hung around the camp as long as I could to play but
finally had to leave.
At
40 easy kilometers down the road we crossed the border into South Africa, again
in the pouring rain. It was a 147 km. day but because of both bad luck and good
luck I arrived at the campsite before dark.
In
the middle of the morning going up a hill my chain jammed, chain suck it is
called, and I nearly fell before I could get my foot out. Having my foot stuck
reminded me that I need to keep the cleat part of the pedals cleaned and oiled.
A passing motorist noticed me working to get the chain back on and stopped to
offer me a lift. I almost turned him down, but then thought why not? If he could
take me to the checkpoint I might have a hope of finishing at a reasonable time.
He was a very interesting man, born and raised there, and he told me about his
children and hobbies. He took me the 30 km. remaining to the checkpoint and
there I had another pleasant surprise, a free lunch furnished by the people with
a restaurant and supermarket there. That was a first. I ate as much as I could,
doing my part to make sure they didn’t have to deal with leftovers, and then
got on my way. Actually they must have had at least 100 less for lunch than
expected because 73 people had boarded a chartered bus the morning before at the
Timbali Caravan Park and headed for Durban where they then waited 3 days for the
rest of us. Other people had rented private vehicles and gone on a variety of
sightseeing trips.
Because
of my lift I had arrived at the checkpoint way earlier than usual and saw riders
there that I normally never get to see on the road as they are always ahead of
me.
We
camped at Malala Lodge, a place described as ‘super’ on the DRG but now it
wasn’t super, it was super soggy. There was no way to avoid sloshing through
water. Even the tables and chairs under the dining pavilion were standing in
water. I pitched my tent and rolled out my air mattress. My sleeping bag stayed
tucked away in its plastic bags for by now I wasn’t using it any longer. The
nights were too warm for it and I didn’t want to risk getting it wet if heaven
forbid the tent should leak. All of my cycling clothes were now both wet and
dirty. I have only 4 changes and we had ridden 4 days in rain with no
opportunity to wash and dry clothes. I washed one set of clothes so they might
be wet but at least they would be clean. I sloshed to the dining pavilion and
hung my wet clothes over the plastic chairs there, but that was a wasted effort.
In the morning they were still sopping wet and I had to put them on that way. It
wasn’t as bad as I had expected it to be and I didn’t get cold because we
are in South Africa in the summer where it would normally be very hot, but
because of the rain is nice and warm. That was the day I gave up the idea of
wearing rain clothes. I started wet and stayed wet all day, cycling in the warm
downpour and enjoying it as if I were a kid again.
But
back to Malala Lodge. These folks had worked to prepare a nice dinner but we had
to slog through standing water to get to it. They had even decorated the serving
area with candles in paper bags, maybe more out of necessity than anything,
because the lodge had been struck by lightning and had no electricity. There
were 3 or 4 tables with a candle on them but I sat at a dark table as did most
of the other folks. We were grateful to be able to sit at a table to eat with a
roof over our heads, even if it was dark and our feet were in water.
Dessert
and coffee were available in the gift shop so I made my way there. People were
eating and shopping by candlelight
and others were just standing about glad to have their feet on a dry floor and
to be out of the rain. The shop owner had prepared for our arrival by bringing
in a supply of large cardboard cartons, offering to package and ship the items
purchased. There were beautiful handmade baskets of all sizes and soon every one
of them was snapped up. People were enjoying this cozy little shopping spree in
the dark. I chose a few postcards but I had to take them to a candle to see what
I had.
Goodbye! Alice
Swaziland
Odyssey Riders and Staff
