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Day 13 & 14 were spent on the highway. After we made
our way over to N2, the freeway with tolls, we headed south at 75 mph. This was
a first class highway and we could have been anywhere in the world. We drove
mile after mile of tree plantations, to mile after mile sugar cane. North of
Durban Vicki kept hinting that she wanted to go over to the beach and I kept
saying “you won’t like it”. Finally I made a left turn and headed to the beach.
Cruising along on the N2 looking towards the ocean you just see unoccupied
rolling hills, even though we were only a mile or so from the beach. Once you
go over those rolling hills you go into low rise condos as far as the eye can
see up and down the beach. Max speed is probably 30 MPH. Vicki convinced, we
moved back to the N2. We blew through Durban, a major city, with little traffic
on Sunday.
this it the park exit
the only employee in the park who smiled and said "thank you"
there are huge mining operations in ZA. one is on strike with 15,000 workers off the job
N2 ran out after 6 hours and we reached our destination of Port Edward, the end of the line for the South coast and a very lovely little guest house, the Aloe, right under a light house, but not part of the lighthouse. At night with the light going around and around over your head on the balcony in was “sick” (young age slang for great). The owners, Ian and Esmare had been displaced from Rhodesia, now Zimbabwe, years ago to South Africa. From South Africa they went to England for 20 years but said they are Africans at heart and came back and bought the guest house. In this area they say it is unlike the big cities and, though they have walls, they will leave their doors and windows open all night. Something their big city friends can not believe.
We had a late afternoon lunch at the only restaurant on the beach. Vicki
had fish I had fish sticks. Actually they were very fresh fish squares.
The next day we were back on the highway by 9, headed into the “Wild Coast”
called that mainly because of the rocky coast much like Oregon. Ian, the owner
of the Aloe Guest house, had advised against our chosen route to Coffee Bay as
the route had more potholes than tar, so we made our way back to N2, now just a
regular road.
this has been the normal view so far out of the cities
this is a x road in the middle of no where. it is where everyone changes bus's.
The trip has mainly been about seeing animals and only one day of my seeing
the country people. So, today, when I saw two big circus type tents off on the
horizon I went to my “any left turn” policy and turned right down the road
hoping for an adventure. Off we went, not with a lot of enthusiasm from the
non-driver. I walked timidly up to the men sitting around the outside of the
tent and was met by Pastor Manene Asworth of the African Methodist Episcopal
Church who told me that a funeral was about to begin and added proudly that
“the church was founded in Philadelphia”. We exchanged greetings and I asked if
it might be possible to take some photos. He, as preachers tend to do, started a
long dissertation in the local tribal language to the men sitting outside to get
their approval for me to take photos. In this “sermon” I understood United
States and Obama. They gave their approval and I started shooting. There were
four groups. The older men sitting in chairs while a younger man cooked lamb
laid on a open fire, the women in another area preparing the rest of the meal in
large black steel pots, the young men in the field digging the grave, and women
in the tent attending to the body. Once again I had forgotten to buy and bring
a Polaroid type camera, yes they are still made, with instant photos. It was on
the list but got lost in the planning. It would have been invaluable here.
Everyone wanted their picture taken. There were a few shy ones that wanted to
have their picture taken, but had to feign shyness. Each group
enthusiastically pointed and sent me to the next group to photo. People were
coming from all directions. Six women came up the steep long hill with buckets
of water from the stream that was their only water source and every direction
you looked you saw people in the distance making their way there.
I had already decided to leave a gift for these people and the preacher
man, being a preacher man, hit me up for a donation. Normally I would have been
a little annoyed by this, but as I knew he was just using this as a opportunity
to help some very poor people, I took no offense and forked over what I imagine
for these people was a fairly large sum of money.
asking permission to visit
from what i understand these women tend the body
the pastor and i say good bye
If you do not see the slide show click here http://sfe2012.blogspot.com
We pressed on. Every town we passed through, large or small, they looked the same. All were centers of local trading and nothing more. Like big warehouses for the rural areas - and today, Monday, was market day. The streets were packed with vendors, mini-buses full of people and the main road was the center of all the activity. The pictures did not capture this well. Transiting the town was slow and challenging but exciting to see. Around 2 pm we made the turn off N2 for Coffee Bay. This was a well paved narrow road, but the going was slow. Schools had let out and for 60 kilometers there were children of every age, in a multitude of different colored uniforms, walking in every direction even though we were in a rural area. Some coming at us, some walking away from us. I do not think I had seen that many students for such a long distance even in a parade.
We pressed on. Every town we passed through, large or small, they looked the same. All were centers of local trading and nothing more. Like big warehouses for the rural areas - and today, Monday, was market day. The streets were packed with vendors, mini-buses full of people and the main road was the center of all the activity. The pictures did not capture this well. Transiting the town was slow and challenging but exciting to see. Around 2 pm we made the turn off N2 for Coffee Bay. This was a well paved narrow road, but the going was slow. Schools had let out and for 60 kilometers there were children of every age, in a multitude of different colored uniforms, walking in every direction even though we were in a rural area. Some coming at us, some walking away from us. I do not think I had seen that many students for such a long distance even in a parade.
By 4 p.m. we reached Coffee Bay. There are several places to stay from
backpackers hostels to two small hotels. Only one, the Ocean View Hotel, lived
up to it’s name with a view. I was not driving six hours to save a few bucks
and not see the Indian Ocean out my front door, so we checked in.
