My Incredible Journey

I always like to rationalize the title in the first sentence of the post, in this case it will be the second sentence. I have entitled this a journey because indeed, point A and B and C were only minor breaks placed to fill the gaps between the transportation. Unfortunately there won't be too many pictures in this blog and any that are here are from google (ugh), I will get to why later in in the post.

(A simplified map of Southern Africa to make it easier to follow along)

Saturday
On the last day before the trip I was pretty sure of how I wanted things to go. I had purchased 3 bus tickets including the first two of the journey and I had been in contact with the first hotel I planned to stay in. I was nervous, but also excited. I wanted to go to bed early as I had to get up around 5am to get to the first bus stop on time. I had talked to my roommates about the exact location of the bus stop and had realized there was no way I could walk there, taxi it was then. Right before going to bed I discovered that one of my water packs was leaking profusely and had soaked through my bed. What a horrible omen for the rest of the trip. I was furious but dealt with the issue and refilled the water pack.

Sunday
I got up right on time grabbed a quick shower and called a taxi. Not open (CRAP!). I started to panic (this will become a theme). I just decided to start walking and see what I could do. I worried the whole time that I wouldn't make it to the stop. I did catch a taxi and was to the bus exactly 30 minutes before its intended departure time. Got on no problems and was off. The border crossing was no trouble and before I knew it I was underway into South Africa. I arrived in Johannesburg (from now on Jo'berg because NO ONE calls it Johannesburg). I was thrilled to find that I could purchase Greyhound tickets here. I thought I was going to have to find where to buy them in Bloemfontein but that was not the case. I sat around and waited for a couple hours. During this time I learned that in Botswana when they see you're white they assume you speak english and speak english to you. In South Africa when they see you're white they assume you speak Afrikaans, which had me asking people to speak english all day. Apparently Park Station is the largest bus station in Africa south of the Sahara.

(Park Station in Jo'berg)

Then I was off onto my next bus. The bus from Jo'berg was potentially the nicest bus I had ever ridden. It was called a sleepliner and the seats could recline 150 degrees and there was plenty of leg room.

(Intercape Sleepliner)

Somewhere in transit I noticed the ground at my feet was soaking wet. It took me only seconds to realize the water was leaking from my water pack onto the floor. The wind blew completely out of my sails. Fortunately I had no one beside me so I managed to contain the water until I got off the bus. I had expected to arrive in Bloemfontein after midnight, but apparently I had misinterpreted the ticket and we actually arrived at about 9:30. I had been worried the whole bus ride (on the verge of panic) that I wouldn't be able to find a way to get to Maseru (Mah-Say-Ru). Afterall none of the major commercial bus companies travel to Lesotho. Upon arrival in Bloemfontein I went to each of the bus ticket windows and each sent me to the next until I finally discovered it was hopeless. I took a very deep breath and decided nothing could be accomplished and that the best course of action was to find lodging and come back on Monday morning. My original intent had been to arrive in Bloemfontein on Monday morning for this very reason. I looked through the big book of hotels the station had and picked one out. Hotel Mamello. I arrived checked in and began spreading out my soaked clothing and my book (having finished my first book I really wanted to dry my book so I could read it!) The hotel was only 240 Rand (about $30) and you could tell. The room was tolerable but not much more. No shower only a bath. But I didn't mind I only needed to sleep for the night. I laid down very early and decided all I wanted to do was sleep, unfortunately I had consumed 2 litres of Coke Zero so sleep didn't really happen.

Monday
I woke up with the sun and was ready to go. I ate the breakfast provided at the Hotel and then walked the four blocks or so to the Tourist center/Bus station to try again to find a way to Maseru. I walked into the tourist office as a tall man with a large back pack walked out. I asked the woman at the desk how was the best way to get to Maseru and she told me the man who had just walked out was going there and I could follow him. I introduced myself to the Man and told him what I wanted to do and he was more than happy for me to tag along until we got to Maseru. His name was Danny and he was originally from Namibia (a white guy from Namibia) It turned out he was a missionary (not a professional, just a volunteer) headed into a very remote part of Lesotho that would take 7 hours by bus and 8 days by Pony to get to. I followed Danny to the Taxi rank in Bloemfontein. He showed me the office and helped me find the taxi that would take us to Maseru.

(The Taxi Rank in Bloemfontein)
(Posters like these were all over in SA)

It was actually a minibus that proudly proclaimed it was certified to carry 15 passenger but to me it looked more like 10 people would fit, nonetheless there were 15 in it when we left. We sat in the mini bus from 9am until 11:30 just waiting for the bus to fill so we could leave. The whole trip I was flipping out about what might happen if at the border I couldn't get through without a Visa that I did not have. I knew there was little to nothing I could do but I was still panicing. We arrived after a two hour drive through terrain that looked a lot like the trip from Reno into Lake Tahoe (minus the Lake of Course). We arrived in Maseru and much to my surprise I got through no problems at all. I took a quick breath with that very nerve racking part of my trip done I thanked Danny said goodbye and good luck. I grabbed a taxi and asked for the Tourist center. The guy charged me R50 (the Taxi from Bloemfontein was only R70) and didn't even take me to the right place, this is when I began to start being bitter towards taxis in general. I walked to the right place. This is also when i learned that the Malotti and the Rand are equivalent and as tourist there is no reason to have Malottis. I must say it wasn't too hard to find because it has a very unique shape. It is in the form of the trademark hat of the Basotho people. I got some info about the country as well as how to get to the Taxi rank that could help me get to Malealea (Mah-Lay-A-Lay-A).

(The unique Tourist Center in Maseru)

They gave me a map of Maseru and pointed me in the right direction. I stumbled around Maseru for about two hours trying to find the Taxi Rank I had been sent to. I walked just about everywhere but the right direction until I finally found. I finally found the Taxi ranks and began stumbling around in the Taxi. I must admit, of the whole trip, this was the most threatening place I found myself. I had gotten used to seeing a handful of white people where ever I went but this place had none, the Basotho (the people of Lesotho) noticed too. As such I got cat called and people yelled at me in Sesotho (the language of Lesotho) and when I failed to respond they got angry and shot me dirty looks. This is when I learned that English is not as well known in Lesotho as it is in Botswana and South Africa. The language of Setsotho is closely related to Setswana so on occasion I used the tiny bit of Setswana I know to bridge the gap between English and Setsotho. Especially "Ke bo kae?" meaning "How much?" I finally found the mini bus I was looking for after a kind police man helped me out by guiding me through the hundreds of taxis (mini busses). I got on and we were off shortly. (More proof that that taxi was a rip off, this trip cost R30.) One of the best things about these mini bus rides was meeting new and interesting people. On this trip I met two men who were very kind and for the whole two hour trip we chatted about the country. I learned a lot from these men about the history of lesotho. One of them was a teacher and the other a young man. I learned both of their names but have since forgotten them unfortunately. The trip went fast despite being very cramped and finally I arrived at my first "intended destination." Malealea Lodge and Pony Trek Center.

(The lodge I stayed in)

Malealea Lodge is actually comprised of many small and medium sized huts and buildings. I rented one the guy at the desk referred to as the "Honeymoon Suite." I still don't know how I felt about that. The lodge is beautiful and rustic, meaning it only has electricity between 5pm-10pm. Upon arriving I also received a list of activities available at the lodge. The list included pony trek and 4x4 Excursions. I had really hoped to do a Pony Trek but realized that they needed at least two people. For the first time on the trip I felt profoundly lonely. I can't remember feeling that alone for quite some time. For most of the day I had been worried about how I would get back to Jo'berg by 8pm on Wednesday. This was one of the connections that I had least anticipated. I decided that while this lodge was amazingly beautiful I was going to leave the next day and return to Bloemfontein Tuesday night to catch the bus from there to Jo'berg Wednesday morning. It was disappointing to me that I wouldn't get to do the fun activities at the lodge but I got over it and resolved that one day I would return to this place. After the long day on very little sleep I just went to bed early.

Tuesday
I woke up with the sun again and went and got the traditional English breakfast provided at the Lodge. I informed that I would like to check out around noon, they were fine with that. I spent the rest of the morning reading looking over the AMAZING scenery of the place and taking a short hike around the lodge. During my hike a young man approached me and introduced himself as Joseph. He guided me around the village of Malealea and pointed out some points of interest. He told me he was 15 and both of his parents had died. When I asked him if he went to school he said he didn't because he couldn't afford shoes and sure enough he was barefoot. I realized that Joseph was a tour guide for the lodge for a living and he was giving me a tour. If he hadn't told me his story I might not have thought to pay him but I did (perhaps that was what he was going for but the company was worth it to me.)

(Malealea Village)

At about Noon I checked out and boarded the bus back to Maseru. This time I didn't get lost and didn't hire a taxi. I choose instead to find my way across Maseru to the border. I made the trek and learned it was quite a lot longer than I had expected but it gave me a wonderful opportunity to see Maseru and the surronding mountains after all I was in no great hurry. The walk was about 10km (6 miles) by my guess but it was nice to stretch my legs. I boarded the second taxi and returned to Bloemfontein. I arrived at about 8pm and walked to the tourist center (about a mile) by myself in the dark, purchased an Intercape ticket to Jo'berg the next day at 3:00 am (WHA!?!?!). I wasn't quite sure what I should do. I decided I would go back to Hotel Mamello and try to get some sleep. I walked to the Hotel (only about four blocks, remember how I was bitter with Taxis?) I never even came close to getting lost despite only having been to this city once before, I think my sense of direction may be improving. I grabbed a room and was asleep much faster this time. I set my alarm for 2:00am the next day.

Wednesday
I woke up to my alarm, grabbed a shower, checked out, and hiked to the tourist center to check my bus. I sat down and decided to read until my bus got there. 3am passed, as did 4am, as well as 5 and 6am. Finally the bus arrived at 6:30am, I was too tired to be mad that the thing was 3 and a half hours late, I just wished I could have slept more. I slept a little on the bus. When I cam awake I realized it wasn't a bad thing that the bus was so late. Afterall had it been on time I would have arrived in Jo'berg at 8am not to leave until 8pm, I have done twelve hour layovers, they suck. Once we arrived I sat around in the station reading until finally my hunger overcame me. I went to a place called Buffaloe Bills (it is the Miller Sign in the Picture above) and ordered Oxtail. It wasn't too bad, just tasted like really bony beef. After dinner I started taking a few pictures of the Station. As I was taking about my second shot the Security approached me and asked me quite angrily what I was doing. I told them I was taking pictures. They grabbed the camera and led me off to the side. They told me that taking pictures in the Park Station was a crime punishable by R300. I told them I was sorry but that there were no postings to that effect. They didn't buy my excuse. Eventually they decided to let me off saying "Hey, we're doing you a favor, why don't you buy me and my friend a cold drink?" The only money in my wallet was a R100 note. I gave it to them and walked away realizing that I had just been a victim of extorhation. The whole experience soured me to Jo'berg in general. Finally 8pm came and I got on my bus without Incident. As I looked around at the other people boarding the bus I realized that these people were not packed like tourists. Most of them had huge bags crammed to overflowing with food, and groceries. As I thought on it I realized that they were Zimbabweans and in Zimbabwe these types of items were in short supply.

Thursday
The 12 hour bus ride was no easy task. I tried to sleep and read but the time passed so slowly. It was interesting to me that every time we stopped for a short break the other passengers would swarm the gas stations and practically clear out the bread. Literally every single person would buy 6-7 loaves of bread. I realized than that this was a different world I was entering, a world a precious few Americans can understand. We got to the border crossing and after much fretting I had little trouble. I had to pay R210 for a visa but it was simple and no one harrassed me as I had been sure they would. As we drove along I began to realize that this was perhaps the worst bus driver I had ever had. The other passengers and I made jokes that even the commercial trucks were passing us. When I was awake enough to glimpse out the window I was stunned at how beautiful Zimbabwe was.

(Scenery in Zimbabwe)

I guess I had assumed that because Botswana was dead flat that the rest of Southern Africa other than Lesotho was also flat. I didn't realize it was so mountainous. Finally I reached Masvingo at about 1pm (about 5 hours late). As soon as we got off the bus we were surrounded by pedalers trying to sell us things which is not uncommon as I have learned, selling bananas and drinks is especially common. What is not common elsewhere is the peddelers trying to sell you currency. Due to the economic crisis in Zimbabwe most banks won't deal at all in Zim dollars and there are no ATMs and Credit cards aren't used anywhere so this is the major type of currency exchange.

(A man selling Zim currency)

I had decided that I wasn't going to even try to use Zim dollars and I would stick to Rands, and Dollars. I had the man at the desk of the gas station call a taxi and it took me to the Great Zimbabwe at the competitive rate of $90. I was furious. How could they charge me so much!?! I hadn't spent that much on a round trip ticket to and from Zimbabwe. This added to my bitterness about Taxis but what else could I do. Finally I arrived at the Great Zimbabwe. I bought a ticket and a private tour. The guide showed me all around the site. Up to the hill complex, the great enclosure, and the lesser structures.

(The hilltop Complex)

(The great Enclosure)

He also led me through the museum. Unfortunately it was clear to me that the museum had some serious anthropological and racist errors but I didn't point them out. Also, due to the turmoil in the government the museum was a little under kept. The lights were burnt out and it was not terribly clean. At least the tour guides don't still claim that this site was built by the Arabs or Phonecians as they did under racist colonial rule. The site is gorgeous and fascinating. It simply blew me away how well the whole site was maintained. I learned a lot about the site and already knew a lot about that allowed me to ask probing questions about the history and archaeology of the site. My tour guide was a student of Archaeology and Museum studies so he was quite knowledgeable about the whole thing. I learned that the enclosures were never roofed. The areas where people slept were instead built up with wooden and thatched roofing. I also learned that the greatest threats to the site are wildlife (such as baboons and warthogs) digging through the rocks for scorpions (when the guide told me this, I realize in hindsight, I should have been more startled than I appeared. I think he was startled that I wasn't) and weld-fires (wild fires to Americans). This surprised me because more often in the US the threats are man made, such as vandalism, lack of funding, or development and urban sprawl. After my tour I went off by myself and toured the whole place in much more detail. I found a man carving soap stone Zimbabwe birds. I bought one for myself for about $3. I thought it was too good a deal to miss. Finally I left feeling very small. I knew that I didn't have enough money to hire the same taxi to go back to the gas station so I decided to try to catch a bus. After consulting with a few of the locals I discovered that I had already missed the last buses. They told me the best way to get to where I was going was to "hitch a ride." Great my first hitch-hiking experience was going to be in Zimbabwe (rolls eyes). I walked along a while with a women. I tried to hail several cars and they blew by. This really confused me, I assumed giving a lift to a white guy would be very exciting to them. I began thinking whether or not I could walk all 20 kilometers back to Masving if I couldn't find a lift at all. Finally, I found a guy who was willing to give me a lift. I asked him how much and we agreed to $50 (still way too much but I was desperate and almost out of money). His car barely worked and he had to stop and add fuel injector fluid twice but we did finally get back to the station. I went to get him his money but couldn't find it. I had hid my US$ in three places. One in my wallet, one in my passport and one in camera bag. That way I figured at most I would lose $50 not all of it. I couldn't find the $50 anywhere and I frantically searched everywhere for it. Finally I told him I would pay in Pulas instead of US$. He agreed. I got out of his car and sat down on a nearby wall. All of a sudden I realized my camera was missing. I paniced. I searched the whole parking lot several times before I remembered that I must have left it in his car. I was devastated. I was so distraught in that gas station parking lot that some of the vendors came over to me and asked me what was wrong. I told them the situation and they offered their condolences but I was inconsolable. I wasn't upset about the camera, it was Onkabetse's and it was inexpensive maybe $150 at most. What I was really upset about was losing all my pictures. Especially the special ones like those with Danny and Joseph and of myself at Great Zimbabwe and Lesotho. Losing the camera tainted my whole trip. Eventually a couple guys came over to me, Henry and Victor, and just chatted with me for a long time. I had about four hours to wait and I learned a lot about the country and these guys lives. It was really nice and helped to take my mind of my dilemma. Finally the bus came and I got on and immediately passed out.

Friday
The trip back was much quicker and equally uneventful. As we got near to Jo'berg I realized we were running a little late. I began to panic again. I knew I only had a one hour lay over in Jo'berg so if we were too late I would miss the bus to Gaborone. We arrived about 45 minutes late and I ran to the Intercape ticket counter. I gave them my ticket, they couldn't find my name on the list for a good reason. I had bought a ticket for Saturday not Friday. Immediately I was crushed. The guy at the counter asked me what I planned to do. I told him i would go and buy another ticket. He took me to the reception and tried to get me to buy another ticket, but my credit card didn't work. Finally because I was making the bus late they just decided to let me get on (phew). The bus ride home was long and slow but I was too tired to care.

Overall, I am glad I took the trip. It was a great lesson in patience, adaptability, and self reliance. I got to see places that most people never will. I also gained confidence in knowing that I CAN take care of myself. I was cut off totally from the outside world for a full week and never did it matter. When there was a problem I handled it, when I needed to get somewhere I got somewhere. Sometimes I was lonely but I knew that traveling by myself was a once in a lifetime oppurtunity. There are only a handful of years when a person is free from the confines of their parents and the responsibilites of their own family. I feel that this trip took advantage of that. I also learned worrying isn't going to help, neither is being upset or angry. No matter what something are just out of our control.

(Snap shot stats of trip)

Thats all for now,
Love to all,
Tommy