Back on the road we passed through a quaint English town called Haenertsburg and couldn’t resist popping into the inviting pub for a beer or two and a chat with the friendly locals. Some guys were planning a 4 x 4 trip up to Mozambique which sounded really interesting. That night we somer parked the bus on the open grass common across from the pub and if the owners were looking for a cook or a bar lady we would have grabbed at the chance to stay for a while. The town is surrounded by forests, mountains and dirt roads, an offroad bikers paradise. We’d reached the tropical region and the lushness was a welcome break from thorn trees and more thorn trees. A shopkeeper suggested we could camp at the dam the next night since according to her, the fishermen often pitched tents on overnight fishing trips. We tried but unfortunately the road was too steep for the bus so we moved on to Tzaneen.
Camped at a back packers for a night where some stoned dude came over for a chat about tall fishing stories. The next day we found the municipal campsite, right on the dam and that’s where we’re staying for the next few days. Cool place, loads of trees and all to ourselves during the week except for the odd ball family behind us who’ve been here a month. It’s weekend and some locals have pulled in. Yesterday a dude brought his boep and glass of klippies and coke over for a chat while his kids, Wit Rot and Arsehole, his affectionate terms of endearment for them, caught bass in the dam. He told us he was toughening them up so that if anyone ever teased them, they’d be able to take the punch. Today is Sunday and everyone has left except the group on the waters edge with the jetski who seem to enjoy Carika Keusenkamp’s virgin like crystal clear voice singing about Die Wind in die Kaap and some other sokkie treffer band singing about Kaboe Mielies in die Nag.
Theo caught 3 pan size large mouthed bass, which he filleted and smoked. We had it for breakfast – deeevine. Kippers se moer.
He also brewed a batch of his booze in the laundry section of the ablutions on Friday, before the weekenders arrived. The sugar water yeast concoction has been fermenting since Sediba, the Indian guys place, and was ready to be fired up through the kettle. Right now I’m drinking cherry flavoured vodka with a 98 % kick for a sundowner. Eat your heart out.
My knee should be sorted by the time we get to Hoedspruit where loads of lodges are situated for job hunting but today we contemplated the options of possibly going to Mozambique for a week or so before we seriously settle down for a while at a lodge. It’s been Theo’s dream to go there to eat prawns since we left home. A bloody far way to go just for seafood if you ask me but a stop off at Jimmy’s Prawn’s won’t cut it he says. I think we’ve both been toying with the idea since our visit to the pub in Haeberstsburg the other day, after which I hauled out Justin Fox’s book - Waving With Both Hands, which clinched the deal. He is a Getaway journalist who popped over for a month to do an article about Mozambique in about 2000 when the country was just emerging from its war torn state and things were looking up for tourists although the country still has poor infrastructure. We’re thinking of leaving the bus and my bike at Gert and Louisa (friends of family) who have property in Balule, near Hoedspruit in the greater Kruger area. If we jump on Theo’s XT 550 we could take the tent, one sleeping bag, our toothbrushes, small gas cooker, a change of underwear and a Tshirt or 2 and do the trip rough and ready, biker style. Now that sounds like more of an adventure than anything to date. So long as we stay on the main roads, avoiding potholes big enough to disappear into, and the odd landmine off in the bushes, we should be ok. Apparently greasing the palm of the so called cops is to be expected and Theo’s bike certainly isn’t the latest BMW range so mobs of kids shouldn’t find anything interesting to unscrew when we’re not looking. I’m wondering about ablutions. I’m expecting a bucket. Hopefully not the same one to shower as well as to take a dump. And the highlight – lots and lots of fish.
I mentioned our plans to Theo’s mother on the phone and I could hear the panic in her voice, mind you my mother reacted the same when we left home and told her we planned to go to Mozambique as part of our travels. She feared we wouldn’t survive a trip through a barbaric cannibal nation of millions of black people who will shoot you and cut you up into small pieces and throw you into the potholes and keep your ears for muti. She suggested we rather go to Namibia where it’s safe for people to go on holiday looking for a bit of adventure and less chance of getting aids.
Theo’s prepping the bike, and we’ll replace the tyres. A slow leak caused by those blinking thorn trees is probably not the most advisable way to travel through Mozambique. I’m off my crutches as of today so luckily we won’t have to strap them on next to Theo’s fishing rod as well. I’m a bit disappointed I can’t take my bike but it will be fun traveling together, wedged inbetween him and the topbox but anyway there’s no way I can kickstart my bike now and I can’t find my ownership papers which is apparently something you need to cross the border.
Can’t wait to fill up with fish and fresh coconuts 3 times a day. Yum yum.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Flight of the Bumblebee
So before you think I’m missing in action, or turned into a topless bar lady wrapped around a slippery pole, raising my eyebrows seductively at customers, I better bring you up to speed. We made like a duck and disappeared from the Indian dude’s farm before things turned sour.
The plot thickened when we met the builder and Kalvin’s protégé barman. Turns out he never got the environmental study approved, he made his money from whorehouses which probably explains his obsession with women and I bet you anything the hotels he says he owns are of the same caliber and he either pimps or is a slum lord. The burglaries at the bushpub were apparently personal vendettas against him and he is known to beat up people, even his wife. I’ll never know all the shady facts about the previous girl who worked at the lodge except that her stuff is still there.
We didn’t stick around to confirm how much of the above was true, but followed our instincts and got the hell out of there very quickly. I saw a side of life which saddened me. Proud, smiling Jethro works for no pay, but has a place to stay and lives on a hope that Kalvin will back pay him his wages and things will improve. Goggo goes into town to beg and borrow from friends when things get bad and Jacky left to look for food and never returned. The day before we left, Kalvin brought his 5 Zimbabwean immigrant workers from the bushpub to offload his fridges etc. He never returned that day so we found mattresses for them but they went to bed hungry not knowing what to expect the next day. We left on a sad note aware that there’s different kinds of people out there leading different kinds, some sadder than others.
My knee is still not healed, so job hunting will have to wait but we’re heading in the general direction of Hoedspruit area where all the game lodges are situated.
We stopped at Potgietersrus where I got myself a pair of crutches at the government hospital for R30 (hard to believe) and visited the museum so Theo could check out his hairy Boer ancestors, while I read fascinating remedies such as putting a dead cats skin, fur facing downwards, on your chest to get rid of flu.
We’re staying in Pietersburg, formally known as Polokwane which is in the Capricorn region which is in the Limpopo Province. Yip, quite a mouthful of names to remember but I’m surprising myself. The caravan park where we’ve been staying for 4 days is very quiet and has 3200 hectres of fenced off game park. We’ve seen rhino’s, zebras, blue wilderbeest, jackal and loads of different antelope species. Scrutinizing dung is fun but we’re struggling to identify trees and clearly need to refer to our notes about whorls, stipules and nodes.
Since we’re in a big town we’re doing some maintenance on the bus. Theo’s getting stressed driving around looking for parking in Pietersburg which is as big as Cape Town centre. Today we took the bus in to get the wiring sorted out and now we can travel at night, the hooter works again and the wires which dangle in his lap shouldn’t get so hot anymore. Tomorrow the bus gets a service. Still haven’t painted it yet since the fire bubbled a section on the side but I don’t see the point since the thorn trees will just scratch any new paint job and anyway I’m still working on a theme. Any ideas?
Leaving here in a day or two to somewhere or other.
The plot thickened when we met the builder and Kalvin’s protégé barman. Turns out he never got the environmental study approved, he made his money from whorehouses which probably explains his obsession with women and I bet you anything the hotels he says he owns are of the same caliber and he either pimps or is a slum lord. The burglaries at the bushpub were apparently personal vendettas against him and he is known to beat up people, even his wife. I’ll never know all the shady facts about the previous girl who worked at the lodge except that her stuff is still there.
We didn’t stick around to confirm how much of the above was true, but followed our instincts and got the hell out of there very quickly. I saw a side of life which saddened me. Proud, smiling Jethro works for no pay, but has a place to stay and lives on a hope that Kalvin will back pay him his wages and things will improve. Goggo goes into town to beg and borrow from friends when things get bad and Jacky left to look for food and never returned. The day before we left, Kalvin brought his 5 Zimbabwean immigrant workers from the bushpub to offload his fridges etc. He never returned that day so we found mattresses for them but they went to bed hungry not knowing what to expect the next day. We left on a sad note aware that there’s different kinds of people out there leading different kinds, some sadder than others.
My knee is still not healed, so job hunting will have to wait but we’re heading in the general direction of Hoedspruit area where all the game lodges are situated.
We stopped at Potgietersrus where I got myself a pair of crutches at the government hospital for R30 (hard to believe) and visited the museum so Theo could check out his hairy Boer ancestors, while I read fascinating remedies such as putting a dead cats skin, fur facing downwards, on your chest to get rid of flu.
We’re staying in Pietersburg, formally known as Polokwane which is in the Capricorn region which is in the Limpopo Province. Yip, quite a mouthful of names to remember but I’m surprising myself. The caravan park where we’ve been staying for 4 days is very quiet and has 3200 hectres of fenced off game park. We’ve seen rhino’s, zebras, blue wilderbeest, jackal and loads of different antelope species. Scrutinizing dung is fun but we’re struggling to identify trees and clearly need to refer to our notes about whorls, stipules and nodes.
Since we’re in a big town we’re doing some maintenance on the bus. Theo’s getting stressed driving around looking for parking in Pietersburg which is as big as Cape Town centre. Today we took the bus in to get the wiring sorted out and now we can travel at night, the hooter works again and the wires which dangle in his lap shouldn’t get so hot anymore. Tomorrow the bus gets a service. Still haven’t painted it yet since the fire bubbled a section on the side but I don’t see the point since the thorn trees will just scratch any new paint job and anyway I’m still working on a theme. Any ideas?
Leaving here in a day or two to somewhere or other.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Mozzies from Mars
It seems as though we’ve got rid of the rat but now we’re concentrating on the dam mozzies. We’d almost used up a whole can of Tabbard spray when Theo remembered that we had a brand new anti mozzie net packed in the bus somewhere. Great stuff! He hauled it out, hung it up above the bed and wala, things looked very omantic as soft white netting draped around the bed and I was suddenly in the mood for love. Excitedly we crawled in under the thing but wham, I looked around and felt as if I was in a Sci Fi movie with gross sores developing all over my body and an alien about to explode out of my stomach. I tried hard to banish these thoughts but they kept coming back. If I looked up at the circular centre above my head, I felt like a giant bee catcher. Theo on the other hand lay there going ne nene ne ne and pulling faces at the mozzies buzzing around on the outside.
Oh dear. I needed to recapture the moment. If I downed my whiskey it might help but the problem was that the bedside table was outside our safety net, and with the light on we’d attracted enough flying insects to start an arachnid collection. Should I risk opening up the side to get my drink or should I just suck it through the dam net? I managed to get my drink safely inside, gulped it down and turned to the cheshire cat lying next to me. Let’s get it on baby. It’s difficult being romantic with a moth the size of a small bat flapping madly entangling itself into the folds of the net next to your ear but somehow we managed.
I have to share a bit of useful information here. Did you know that the reason why moths circle around a light continuously is because they use the moon to navigate? As they’re flying from lets say a Marula tree to lets say a Black Monkey Thorn tree they check out the position of the moon and use it to get their bearings in the sky and orientate where they want to go without getting lost. Ingenious! Unfortunately they get confused with other lights and will circle and circle it incessantly trying to get their bearings. Like ok, here’s the moon real close, this must be north, wait a minute, this must be north, hang on maybe this is north. Wait a minute; I’ve just seen another big moon under this net bouncing at a vigorous rate.
Anyway bottom line, the dark side of the moon is more diverse than a chicken drumstick.
Oh dear. I needed to recapture the moment. If I downed my whiskey it might help but the problem was that the bedside table was outside our safety net, and with the light on we’d attracted enough flying insects to start an arachnid collection. Should I risk opening up the side to get my drink or should I just suck it through the dam net? I managed to get my drink safely inside, gulped it down and turned to the cheshire cat lying next to me. Let’s get it on baby. It’s difficult being romantic with a moth the size of a small bat flapping madly entangling itself into the folds of the net next to your ear but somehow we managed.
I have to share a bit of useful information here. Did you know that the reason why moths circle around a light continuously is because they use the moon to navigate? As they’re flying from lets say a Marula tree to lets say a Black Monkey Thorn tree they check out the position of the moon and use it to get their bearings in the sky and orientate where they want to go without getting lost. Ingenious! Unfortunately they get confused with other lights and will circle and circle it incessantly trying to get their bearings. Like ok, here’s the moon real close, this must be north, wait a minute, this must be north, hang on maybe this is north. Wait a minute; I’ve just seen another big moon under this net bouncing at a vigorous rate.
Anyway bottom line, the dark side of the moon is more diverse than a chicken drumstick.
Voortrekkers, Voorlaaiers en Voorname
Well I’m still enthralled by the whole concept of those Boers pioneering their way across the countryside. Life must have been so cool for the men but a bitch for the women.
The men sat around polishing their voorlaaiers, no one nagged them to take a bath, and if they wanted more than one wife, well who’s to stop them. All you needed was a decent beard, a horse, a kraal and you were made. They’d disappear for a few days on hunting trips, pockets bulging with biltong, and all the game to pick and choose from right under their noses.
Women on the other hand had it tougher. For starters, you needed to find a man to marry by the age of 14 otherwise you were considered an old maid with droopy tits. You spent your days rubbing cow shit on the floor, stuffing straw into mattresses, searching for termite mounds to break open to bake bread from the dough you’d been kneading since 4 in the morning, and then sew bits of leather together with a blunt needle to make trousers for your hairy husband.
Then the day would arrive, after your husband had consulted the Bible and found the message that it was time to trek north. You’d have to pack up your 13 children, Ouma, Oom Sarel, who slept in the wagon outside, your 2 cooking pots, a bucket of candle wax, sacks of biltong, rusks, konfyt, buchu and a clean bonnet.
The oxen would get ingespan and the slow trek would begin. Dangerous mountains were tackled by dissembling the whole wagon and carrying it over piece by piece and Willamiena Petrulella Susara dared not utter a “you want me to carry what?” At night Cornelius Paulus Gerhardus Steffanus Jocobus Ignesius Martinus Christoffel Lodvikus Hermanus Albertus Johannus and the other 12 children would gather around to listen to awe inspiring stories read from the Bible.
It must have been cool coming over a koppie, seeing a river running through a valley filled with bokkies and blommetjies and being able to say “vrou, dis nou ons plek”.
Life was hard, but they were uncomplaining free spirits on the African plains which is more than we can say in today’s lifestyle of washing machines, tarred roads, supermarkets together with hydrogen bombs, a damaged ozone layer, insurance premiums and a government who owns you.
The men sat around polishing their voorlaaiers, no one nagged them to take a bath, and if they wanted more than one wife, well who’s to stop them. All you needed was a decent beard, a horse, a kraal and you were made. They’d disappear for a few days on hunting trips, pockets bulging with biltong, and all the game to pick and choose from right under their noses.
Women on the other hand had it tougher. For starters, you needed to find a man to marry by the age of 14 otherwise you were considered an old maid with droopy tits. You spent your days rubbing cow shit on the floor, stuffing straw into mattresses, searching for termite mounds to break open to bake bread from the dough you’d been kneading since 4 in the morning, and then sew bits of leather together with a blunt needle to make trousers for your hairy husband.
Then the day would arrive, after your husband had consulted the Bible and found the message that it was time to trek north. You’d have to pack up your 13 children, Ouma, Oom Sarel, who slept in the wagon outside, your 2 cooking pots, a bucket of candle wax, sacks of biltong, rusks, konfyt, buchu and a clean bonnet.
The oxen would get ingespan and the slow trek would begin. Dangerous mountains were tackled by dissembling the whole wagon and carrying it over piece by piece and Willamiena Petrulella Susara dared not utter a “you want me to carry what?” At night Cornelius Paulus Gerhardus Steffanus Jocobus Ignesius Martinus Christoffel Lodvikus Hermanus Albertus Johannus and the other 12 children would gather around to listen to awe inspiring stories read from the Bible.
It must have been cool coming over a koppie, seeing a river running through a valley filled with bokkies and blommetjies and being able to say “vrou, dis nou ons plek”.
Life was hard, but they were uncomplaining free spirits on the African plains which is more than we can say in today’s lifestyle of washing machines, tarred roads, supermarkets together with hydrogen bombs, a damaged ozone layer, insurance premiums and a government who owns you.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Show us a sign
Yesterday evening I sat on the stoep listening to far away thunder and watched Theo skin his kill; a guinea fowl. Yip, he’d actually managed to shoot one with a pellet gun. He stunned it with the first shot, a couple more pots and finally killed it with a coup de grace head shot. Now he was a real man. All he needed to do was to eat the things heart while it still pumped and bury something under a tree or something to that effect but we settled for a whiskey.
Later that night the thunderstorm rolled nearer, drowning out the bloody rats scuttling around in the thatch roof. We’d been feeding them ratex, but I must admit I would have preferred leaving them a note saying “please vacate outside, we’ve moved in here now”. Instead, they chose a slow death and ignored the rat trap the size of a shoe box. I would have felt bad if they were cute little field mice with cute little whiskers but their droppings were not cute, they were as big as a duikers, and I didn’t fancy them gnawing at my toes after snacking in the kitchen cupboards.
I thought about the Cumulonimbus clouds hovering above. Yawn. I thought about the iced particles grinding against each other with such force that static electricity was formed. Too technical. It was just plain awesome watching the whole bloody show from my bed. The room and everywhere outside lit up as lightening streaked across the whole sky, followed by the loudest, rolling, crashing thunder I’ve ever heard in my whole life. Spectacular!
My knee is improving. Today I hobbled for the first time. I’ve been scooting around on a typist chair but it’s very limiting and I can’t go outside. I’m trying to make friends with the 2 forlorn looking horses visiting me on the stoep but Jethro just walked by and said “those things they must not come here because they kak hierso”.
I’m about finished my book. Really makes you think about our land and its Folk. Charlie, if you’re reading my blog you simply have to get a copy of James Mitchener’s, The Covenant. It puts many things in perspective about our parents who learnt from their forefathers. It seems that the Old Testament was written just for them, well and those Jews who crossed the desert in earlier times. The Bible (not the New Testament which was not relevant to them) guided them in every decision from handling their slaves to claiming the land. Thought provoking book.
Talking about weird beliefs, how’s this for bullshit. Kavin, (who recons we wasted our money doing the course cos he could teach us everything we need to know) told us that leopards have 365 spots and on a leap year they get an extra one. Whahaha don’t fall off your chair. Imagine leopards waking up on the morning of 29 February, males stretch, lick their balls and go WTF?! when they see an extra spot which appeared overnight on their goonies. Or, after a night of passion, the female goes oh my god you’ve left a fat hicky in my neck WTF it looks like a new spot. Or perhaps a cub goes up to his mother and says “mom am I still me, what’s this funny new spot under my armpit?” mother replies “no dear, that’s just a birthmark” but when her teenage daughter saunters up, shaking her arse, mother freaks out “what’s going on with your arse? I told you no tattoo’s while you’re under my care. Now bugger off out of here you slut. And so a generation of confused youngsters took their place in Africa. All leopards know the law which has been passed down from their fathers. And from their fathers fathers. And from their fathers fathers fathers. And it was passed on that all leopards need fear nothing, except Lions having a bad day and those two legged white animals who carry a fire shooting stick and can be identified by their strange hat. Let it be known that only when faced by these animals may any leopard run and hide in a cave. And let no leopard be struck down by lighting unless he or she breaks the golden rule, known to all, a leopard cannot change its spots! And so it came to pass.
Oh well. I’m off to supper. That guinea fowl’s been cooking for 4 hours and Theo says it’s ready.
Later that night the thunderstorm rolled nearer, drowning out the bloody rats scuttling around in the thatch roof. We’d been feeding them ratex, but I must admit I would have preferred leaving them a note saying “please vacate outside, we’ve moved in here now”. Instead, they chose a slow death and ignored the rat trap the size of a shoe box. I would have felt bad if they were cute little field mice with cute little whiskers but their droppings were not cute, they were as big as a duikers, and I didn’t fancy them gnawing at my toes after snacking in the kitchen cupboards.
I thought about the Cumulonimbus clouds hovering above. Yawn. I thought about the iced particles grinding against each other with such force that static electricity was formed. Too technical. It was just plain awesome watching the whole bloody show from my bed. The room and everywhere outside lit up as lightening streaked across the whole sky, followed by the loudest, rolling, crashing thunder I’ve ever heard in my whole life. Spectacular!
My knee is improving. Today I hobbled for the first time. I’ve been scooting around on a typist chair but it’s very limiting and I can’t go outside. I’m trying to make friends with the 2 forlorn looking horses visiting me on the stoep but Jethro just walked by and said “those things they must not come here because they kak hierso”.
I’m about finished my book. Really makes you think about our land and its Folk. Charlie, if you’re reading my blog you simply have to get a copy of James Mitchener’s, The Covenant. It puts many things in perspective about our parents who learnt from their forefathers. It seems that the Old Testament was written just for them, well and those Jews who crossed the desert in earlier times. The Bible (not the New Testament which was not relevant to them) guided them in every decision from handling their slaves to claiming the land. Thought provoking book.
Talking about weird beliefs, how’s this for bullshit. Kavin, (who recons we wasted our money doing the course cos he could teach us everything we need to know) told us that leopards have 365 spots and on a leap year they get an extra one. Whahaha don’t fall off your chair. Imagine leopards waking up on the morning of 29 February, males stretch, lick their balls and go WTF?! when they see an extra spot which appeared overnight on their goonies. Or, after a night of passion, the female goes oh my god you’ve left a fat hicky in my neck WTF it looks like a new spot. Or perhaps a cub goes up to his mother and says “mom am I still me, what’s this funny new spot under my armpit?” mother replies “no dear, that’s just a birthmark” but when her teenage daughter saunters up, shaking her arse, mother freaks out “what’s going on with your arse? I told you no tattoo’s while you’re under my care. Now bugger off out of here you slut. And so a generation of confused youngsters took their place in Africa. All leopards know the law which has been passed down from their fathers. And from their fathers fathers. And from their fathers fathers fathers. And it was passed on that all leopards need fear nothing, except Lions having a bad day and those two legged white animals who carry a fire shooting stick and can be identified by their strange hat. Let it be known that only when faced by these animals may any leopard run and hide in a cave. And let no leopard be struck down by lighting unless he or she breaks the golden rule, known to all, a leopard cannot change its spots! And so it came to pass.
Oh well. I’m off to supper. That guinea fowl’s been cooking for 4 hours and Theo says it’s ready.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT
So yeah, here we are still. The place is just as awesome as when we arrived but maybe one plus one makes five.
Before accepting the job here, I asked the barlady at the bushpub if Kalvin, the owner, gave problems when it came to getting paid. She said never, and that he was very approachable if the staff ever had financial difficulties, which made me more comfortable about accepting the job. I still thought he was a fast talker with pervert tendencies but since he wouldn’t be on the farm at the beginning stages, I was prepared to see how things went.
On the way here he mentioned that he had effectively got rid of all the unwanted farm labourers by not paying them since the place was not operational over the last few months. I made another mental tick against his integrity.
Warning lights went off when we were told that the previous girl who worked here just disappeared. Most of her stuff was packed in boxes and Kalvin said he kicked her off the place when he found out that she was “entertaining” a lot of friends and other people had moved into the spare bedrooms. It sounded feasible but I felt uneasy. People don’t just leave all their belongings behind. Why hadn’t she come back to fetch them? I visualized her half eaten dead body lying at the bottom of a crocodile infested dam. I even stared at the small thatch window above the bar and wondered if she was kept a prisoner up there for his strange sexual pleasures. I was starting to feel like a Desperate Housewife from Wisteria Lane.
There are 3 remaining labourers, Jethro the old guy who has been here forever and keeps a hand on the grounds, is in charge of Jacky who helps him as well as Goggo who keeps the chalets dust free. They say they haven’t been paid for 4 months either but are sticking it out in the hopes that Kalvin will pitch up to pay them. In the meantime they lend money from friends to survive, carry on working but are hungry so we’ve given them a little food but I feel bad. Jethro, who is very pleasant, knows a lot about farm life here and Theo can learn from him. He has also mentioned that Kalvin has beaten up one of the labourers very badly in a violent temper. The picture being painted of this guy’s character was getting worse and worse.
We’ve decided to pack things we don’t use daily back into the bus, in case things go sour and we need to make a fast duck. In the meantime my friggin knee is still buggered so I’m using the time to recover. Well see what happens at the end of October, pay day and according to Kalvin the start of big development here. We’re putting our C.V.’s out there again just in case.
So in 2 weeks, I’ll either be in Joburg, responding to a overland company who wants to interview us, have a game lodge management couple job lined up somewhere else or floating belly up at the bottom of the water tank.
Before accepting the job here, I asked the barlady at the bushpub if Kalvin, the owner, gave problems when it came to getting paid. She said never, and that he was very approachable if the staff ever had financial difficulties, which made me more comfortable about accepting the job. I still thought he was a fast talker with pervert tendencies but since he wouldn’t be on the farm at the beginning stages, I was prepared to see how things went.
On the way here he mentioned that he had effectively got rid of all the unwanted farm labourers by not paying them since the place was not operational over the last few months. I made another mental tick against his integrity.
Warning lights went off when we were told that the previous girl who worked here just disappeared. Most of her stuff was packed in boxes and Kalvin said he kicked her off the place when he found out that she was “entertaining” a lot of friends and other people had moved into the spare bedrooms. It sounded feasible but I felt uneasy. People don’t just leave all their belongings behind. Why hadn’t she come back to fetch them? I visualized her half eaten dead body lying at the bottom of a crocodile infested dam. I even stared at the small thatch window above the bar and wondered if she was kept a prisoner up there for his strange sexual pleasures. I was starting to feel like a Desperate Housewife from Wisteria Lane.
There are 3 remaining labourers, Jethro the old guy who has been here forever and keeps a hand on the grounds, is in charge of Jacky who helps him as well as Goggo who keeps the chalets dust free. They say they haven’t been paid for 4 months either but are sticking it out in the hopes that Kalvin will pitch up to pay them. In the meantime they lend money from friends to survive, carry on working but are hungry so we’ve given them a little food but I feel bad. Jethro, who is very pleasant, knows a lot about farm life here and Theo can learn from him. He has also mentioned that Kalvin has beaten up one of the labourers very badly in a violent temper. The picture being painted of this guy’s character was getting worse and worse.
We’ve decided to pack things we don’t use daily back into the bus, in case things go sour and we need to make a fast duck. In the meantime my friggin knee is still buggered so I’m using the time to recover. Well see what happens at the end of October, pay day and according to Kalvin the start of big development here. We’re putting our C.V.’s out there again just in case.
So in 2 weeks, I’ll either be in Joburg, responding to a overland company who wants to interview us, have a game lodge management couple job lined up somewhere else or floating belly up at the bottom of the water tank.
Monday, October 12, 2009
CRASH BOOM BANG (Crocodile Dundee se moer)
I spend a lot of time sitting on the stoep with binocs peacefully watching life around me. In fact the best times are early morning which means I get up at 6 or 7 hard to believe but true. The other day, just before sunset, I heard a loud, continuous strange barking coming from the bush so I crept across the lawn to investigate. I got the fright of my life when I came face to face with a rooikat (caracal) behind the rondaval. He’d been stalking Impala who were barking their warning at him.
Today I sat on the stoep with my binocs and got my entertainment for the day watching Theo leopard crawl over a sandbank behind the putting green in his PT shorts armed with a pellet gun trying to pot a guinea fowl. He was unsuccessful but I got a laugh.
Seems I’ll be spending a lot of time on a pool lounger on the stoep since I can’t friggin walk. I’m so mad. We took the bikes for a ride around the farm to explore the place. We haven’t ridden for a good few months so I was careful at first, but after an hour or so started relaxing and enjoying myself. Heavy concentration picking your way over rocks, crevices, dongas, sand and gravelly bits. And then of course naturally there are all the thorn trees so you have to dodge the branches which could rip your eye out while keeping your other eye on the road for broken thorn branches which could poke a hole right through your tyre and your boot. I was nervous going down to the dams cos on top of all the above, you have to keep a look out for crocodiles lying in the grass waiting to ambush you. Anyway I was going along fine, thinking about how I could get the insurance to pay for a new bike since mine was still not going so lekker. An idea was forming about how I could say that I fell in the dam and a crocodile snapped my bike in half when I remembered that the insurance was only on the bus and not the bikes and wack, that’s when I hit the deck. I twisted my knee (yes, the one which is already a mess) and pulled every possible ligament. I had to ride back while my knee swelled to the size of a very painful soccer ball. I’ve been keeping it elevated and iced for 2 days now and it’s slowly improving although I can’t walk and I’m mad as hell. Oh well, at least I’ve got more time to blog and read an old book I picked up which I’m enjoying - James Mitchener, The Covenant. It’s all about SA history and quite appropriate right now.
We’re starting to have our doubts about this place, some funny things have come to light and I might very well need both legs to make a fast dash in the middle of the night but I’ll blog about that next time. Right now I need to change the frozen chicken and milk sachet on my knee and try and get some sleep – which isn’t easy with my leg up in the air listening to the dam rat in the kitchen at 2 in the morning.
Today I sat on the stoep with my binocs and got my entertainment for the day watching Theo leopard crawl over a sandbank behind the putting green in his PT shorts armed with a pellet gun trying to pot a guinea fowl. He was unsuccessful but I got a laugh.
Seems I’ll be spending a lot of time on a pool lounger on the stoep since I can’t friggin walk. I’m so mad. We took the bikes for a ride around the farm to explore the place. We haven’t ridden for a good few months so I was careful at first, but after an hour or so started relaxing and enjoying myself. Heavy concentration picking your way over rocks, crevices, dongas, sand and gravelly bits. And then of course naturally there are all the thorn trees so you have to dodge the branches which could rip your eye out while keeping your other eye on the road for broken thorn branches which could poke a hole right through your tyre and your boot. I was nervous going down to the dams cos on top of all the above, you have to keep a look out for crocodiles lying in the grass waiting to ambush you. Anyway I was going along fine, thinking about how I could get the insurance to pay for a new bike since mine was still not going so lekker. An idea was forming about how I could say that I fell in the dam and a crocodile snapped my bike in half when I remembered that the insurance was only on the bus and not the bikes and wack, that’s when I hit the deck. I twisted my knee (yes, the one which is already a mess) and pulled every possible ligament. I had to ride back while my knee swelled to the size of a very painful soccer ball. I’ve been keeping it elevated and iced for 2 days now and it’s slowly improving although I can’t walk and I’m mad as hell. Oh well, at least I’ve got more time to blog and read an old book I picked up which I’m enjoying - James Mitchener, The Covenant. It’s all about SA history and quite appropriate right now.
We’re starting to have our doubts about this place, some funny things have come to light and I might very well need both legs to make a fast dash in the middle of the night but I’ll blog about that next time. Right now I need to change the frozen chicken and milk sachet on my knee and try and get some sleep – which isn’t easy with my leg up in the air listening to the dam rat in the kitchen at 2 in the morning.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
COWBOYS AND INDIANS
After the course we moved into the bus and camped at Combrtum Park for a few days letting our brains readjust from overdrive to chill mode. We wondered what we’d do next, where we would find a job, got our CV’s typed up, made some enquiries and sat around the fire bursting with new knowledge and a beer or two to wash it down with. We weren’t allowed booze during the course so 2 beers and a whiskey had me thinking the world was my oyster and that I’d found God and my clitoris.
Man, life’s good but now what. It’s funny, I just can’t seem to shake the urge to want to plan ahead knowing from experience over and over since we left home that things inevitably don’t go the way you intended. One day when I’m big, I’ll learn to live for the moment and in fact I think when I can do that then I can honestly say I’ve reached the next level. At the moment my excuse is I’m a traveler who needs employment.
So anyway, there we were, qualified, grinning from ear to ear and unemployed. Our plan (there’s that word again) was to cruise down to Tzaneen, cos they’ve got lekker avos and pawpaws and nuts and greenery around there, park off for a bit while applying directly to all the game lodges in the Hoedspruit area for lodge management couple positions.
We’d spent a coupla days going in to Modimole, the local one horse town nearest Combretum Park and I just loved the vibe. It’s in the middle of a hunting farm area so you can either buy rifle bullets from Oom Piet in his PT shorts, or next door they’ll stuff your trophy zebra head to be mounted above the fireplace to peer at your visitors, or you can buy tyres for your landie. There are also a few Chinese and general dealer shops selling to the mostly black people in town and I loved the African feel to the place as everyone seemed in no hurry and many of the black women stroll along happily with an umbrella as part of their dress code. This whole umbrella thing is new to me since in Cape Town you’d lift off in the wind so mostly doekie and moisturizer is your protection against the Cape elements.
Our laptop is giving problems, all three ports are down so sorry can’t post pix which by the way are awesome but you’re just gonna have to imagine what the bushveld looks like. Impala carcasses hanging from trees for midnight munchies, leopards who prowl the empty camps at night, on foot, and in fast pursuit, these are the creatures of …..the night. Which by the way reminds me, so far the only thing to fear out here are scorpions hiding under every rock and thorns the length of your hand in every 2nd tree ready to poke your eye out if you’re not careful.
We popped in at the local bushpub, like any red blooded South African would, while waiting for the computer guy to call saying our laptop was fixed. That never happened but what did happen is we got offered a job. Turns out the owner of the bar has a game farm 50km away and was looking for a couple to manage it.
So we put our plans of going to Tzaneen on hold (should have known) and after a trip to the farm, we accepted the job, although I had my doubts about this guy. He is half American Indian, half Asian Indian is extremely arrogant, likes the sound of his own voice and I wondered how truthful all the money talk was. He spent too much time talking about sex and prostitution, not the normal get to know people chit chat. Either he’s preoccupied by sex or he was just checking our reaction. Next time I see him I’m gonna talk about my bowel movements and watch for his response. He drives the latest Merc or BMW or something and the heavy gold chain swinging in his chest hairs and matching watch and rings with you guessed it, rubies the size of puffed popcorn didn’t come out of a lucky dip but neither did they impress me much. We weighed up the odds, decided we had nothing to loose since we were prepared to do shadow guiding (work for food and lodging) for a few weeks if necessary up at Hoedspruit to gain experience and get into the job market.
The farm is awesome. We’ve moved into our own 3 bedroomed thatch house which has a stunning view. There’s a rat in the kitchen what am I gonna do but so long as there’s no Indian in my cupboard, with a video camera, who cares.
A family of warthogs and 20 Impala visit the bottom end of the front garden daily, Nyala come down to browse in the backyard at night and the obligatory troop of monkeys in the back, always on the look out to steal food. There’s loads of birdlife and 2 horses who spend most of their time grazing on the driving range which is next to the pool and the jacuzzi and the big braai lapa. All this is spread out in front of our house, except the 15 chalets running down the side and we are the only people here, expect for 3 workers who come in daily to clean the place.
Kelvin plans to move here with his family at the end of October, build a massive, fancy 5 star development on the other side of the farm now that after 3 years the environmental impact study is finally approved. In the meantime he’s happy that we orientate ourselves and once he’s moved here he said he will advertise the place and make a buck or two from the 15 chalets and bar and restaurant while the big moola development takes place. Whether we’re still around if and when his dream gets off the ground is unimportant, right now were having a jol here
Man, life’s good but now what. It’s funny, I just can’t seem to shake the urge to want to plan ahead knowing from experience over and over since we left home that things inevitably don’t go the way you intended. One day when I’m big, I’ll learn to live for the moment and in fact I think when I can do that then I can honestly say I’ve reached the next level. At the moment my excuse is I’m a traveler who needs employment.
So anyway, there we were, qualified, grinning from ear to ear and unemployed. Our plan (there’s that word again) was to cruise down to Tzaneen, cos they’ve got lekker avos and pawpaws and nuts and greenery around there, park off for a bit while applying directly to all the game lodges in the Hoedspruit area for lodge management couple positions.
We’d spent a coupla days going in to Modimole, the local one horse town nearest Combretum Park and I just loved the vibe. It’s in the middle of a hunting farm area so you can either buy rifle bullets from Oom Piet in his PT shorts, or next door they’ll stuff your trophy zebra head to be mounted above the fireplace to peer at your visitors, or you can buy tyres for your landie. There are also a few Chinese and general dealer shops selling to the mostly black people in town and I loved the African feel to the place as everyone seemed in no hurry and many of the black women stroll along happily with an umbrella as part of their dress code. This whole umbrella thing is new to me since in Cape Town you’d lift off in the wind so mostly doekie and moisturizer is your protection against the Cape elements.
Our laptop is giving problems, all three ports are down so sorry can’t post pix which by the way are awesome but you’re just gonna have to imagine what the bushveld looks like. Impala carcasses hanging from trees for midnight munchies, leopards who prowl the empty camps at night, on foot, and in fast pursuit, these are the creatures of …..the night. Which by the way reminds me, so far the only thing to fear out here are scorpions hiding under every rock and thorns the length of your hand in every 2nd tree ready to poke your eye out if you’re not careful.
We popped in at the local bushpub, like any red blooded South African would, while waiting for the computer guy to call saying our laptop was fixed. That never happened but what did happen is we got offered a job. Turns out the owner of the bar has a game farm 50km away and was looking for a couple to manage it.
So we put our plans of going to Tzaneen on hold (should have known) and after a trip to the farm, we accepted the job, although I had my doubts about this guy. He is half American Indian, half Asian Indian is extremely arrogant, likes the sound of his own voice and I wondered how truthful all the money talk was. He spent too much time talking about sex and prostitution, not the normal get to know people chit chat. Either he’s preoccupied by sex or he was just checking our reaction. Next time I see him I’m gonna talk about my bowel movements and watch for his response. He drives the latest Merc or BMW or something and the heavy gold chain swinging in his chest hairs and matching watch and rings with you guessed it, rubies the size of puffed popcorn didn’t come out of a lucky dip but neither did they impress me much. We weighed up the odds, decided we had nothing to loose since we were prepared to do shadow guiding (work for food and lodging) for a few weeks if necessary up at Hoedspruit to gain experience and get into the job market.
The farm is awesome. We’ve moved into our own 3 bedroomed thatch house which has a stunning view. There’s a rat in the kitchen what am I gonna do but so long as there’s no Indian in my cupboard, with a video camera, who cares.
A family of warthogs and 20 Impala visit the bottom end of the front garden daily, Nyala come down to browse in the backyard at night and the obligatory troop of monkeys in the back, always on the look out to steal food. There’s loads of birdlife and 2 horses who spend most of their time grazing on the driving range which is next to the pool and the jacuzzi and the big braai lapa. All this is spread out in front of our house, except the 15 chalets running down the side and we are the only people here, expect for 3 workers who come in daily to clean the place.
Kelvin plans to move here with his family at the end of October, build a massive, fancy 5 star development on the other side of the farm now that after 3 years the environmental impact study is finally approved. In the meantime he’s happy that we orientate ourselves and once he’s moved here he said he will advertise the place and make a buck or two from the 15 chalets and bar and restaurant while the big moola development takes place. Whether we’re still around if and when his dream gets off the ground is unimportant, right now were having a jol here
Monday, October 5, 2009
Wipe that look off your face, you're in the bush
Where to start. So much has happened and I’m just dying to tell it all.
We arrived at Combretum Park excited to start the Field Guide Course. I had a permanent startled look on my face cos Berdien who has a nail / beauty salon tattooed decent eyebrows on my forehead the day before we left their place. My 6 little blonde hairs and puffy eyes are now framed by the most delightful arch almost reaching up to my hairline, hence the started look. Berdien said I’d get used to them.
We were 10 students altogether. Another couple who are photographers wanting to learn more about the bush for their future plans, a guy who had been working in the field but wanted the qualifications, a young, alternate thinking German guy, and 4 other young South African guys. We all got on well luckily cos you spend a month in each others company eating, sleeping and dreaming about trees, rocks, grasses, birds and mammals. Life on the outside became a distant memory while we learnt about nature and how things work together. Awesome stuff! It was hard work remembering everything which just keeps piling up but Rainer, the lecturer at www.bushveldtrainingadventures.co.za, is a fantastic teacher. He paints a captivating picture of nature and his passion and vast knowledge of all subjects makes it easier to digest all the information. Sakkie, his partner, is a more hands on guy and has been reading the bush longer than I’ve read my ABC’s. He’s quite a character, packed with wonderful bush experiences, calls his students drolpere and is said to be the best assessor around here.
Did you know that grass has shaped the evolution of mammals? Its not just something you have to mow over the weekend, it’s actually the primary producer in a food chain.
Have you thought about the fact that rocks determine what life grows where since they make up the soil determining which plants grow there which determines what animals can survive there?
Did you know that termites farm with fungi mushrooms in their long underground tunnels which they keep at a certain temperature, not fluctuating more than 2 degrees by using air vents and that they actually place fungi spores on the backs of termites when they leave to start new colonies?
Did you know that mistletoe seeds are eaten by a bird who likes the outside layer of the seed but can’t digest the next layer so it fly’s off to another tree, regurgitates the seed which now excretes a gooey substance so when the bird wipes his beak and the seed onto a branch, the mistletoe seed grows there and that’s how it propagates.
Did you know some mammals can induce the female species to go into estrus, that a horny elephant in musth will travel up to a 100 km’s to mate with a female in a different herd as apposed to his own herd, that in fact all animals are aware of how they spread their genes by not using the same gene pool and some species will sacrifice their own sexual drive in order to ensure the packs survival.
I can go on and on with stuff like this but just cos I’m into this kinda stuff now, doesn’t mean everyone else is. I’d love to elaborate a little more on the above stuff to give you the whole picture but Theo says I’m probably boring my readers. (that is if I have any followers since its been 2 months since I’ve blogged – laptop and time problems).
During the course, we left Combretum Park for 5 days and went to the Kruger National Park to see and study the big 5 since they don’t have any at the course venue. We stayed at different camps, 2 of which were actually outside the Kruger but with open fences.
Manyaleti was the best cos we had animals right at our doorstep. Literally – in fact Rainer warned us not to walk around alone but I had no plans to become supper for the local leopard anyway. Accommodation was big comfortable tents on wooden decks with proper beds and your own inside rustic bathroom consisting of a flush toilet and to shower you boil water on the gas cooker then fill a bucket, hoist it up and there you go. Really cool. We couldn’t believe our luck when just after arriving, we were busy with a class on the braai deck when a herd of elephants sauntered past us in the dry river bed about 20 meters away. They communicate in sub sonic low rumbles by the way. If the Matriarch in the front stops then the rest don’t carry on walking, they all stop dead and all move on together. At dusk a hyena slunk past the kitchen area (I could carry on forever about them) and on the first night the German guy kakked in his pants cos while he was showering, a leopard watched him through the floor slats from under his tent.
On a guided game drive we were really lucky to see a coalition of 4 male cheetahs on the prowl looking to get laid probably. Over the next few days we saw more elephant, a big fat python slowly slither across the road, we saw birds, zebra, hippo, buffalo, crocodiles, giraffe, antelope, warthogs, rhino, a lazing lion, a hyena and feeding vultures.
My startled look was wearing off as my new eyebrows settled on my face only to reappear as we pulled in at Combretum Park to find that the farm had burnt down while we were away. Luckily none of the rooms were damaged (no thatch roof or grass nearby) but the bus got a little heat damage (got insurance luckily) and one bike tyre melted (no insurance – but such is life). Unfortunately the classroom (thatch roof) burnt down with all Rainers books and collection of animal skulls etc. We wondered about safety of the roaming antelope and smaller animals but apparently most survived, although starving.
We both passed the national exam and are now qualified to become Field Guides or manage a lodge or become overland tour guides. Theo, and most other students, also did a 10 day rifle handling course afterwards with Sakkie, enabling him to carry a rifle in a landie if doing a tour. I helped Sakkie with bullets etc and even got to shoot a .22 and a 375 rifle which exploded with such power next to my ear that my new eyebrows would have blown off had the headband of my earmuffs not kept them in place. Like I said, they’re rather high up.
So now that we’re qualified, the next step is finding employment. But that’s another story.
We arrived at Combretum Park excited to start the Field Guide Course. I had a permanent startled look on my face cos Berdien who has a nail / beauty salon tattooed decent eyebrows on my forehead the day before we left their place. My 6 little blonde hairs and puffy eyes are now framed by the most delightful arch almost reaching up to my hairline, hence the started look. Berdien said I’d get used to them.
We were 10 students altogether. Another couple who are photographers wanting to learn more about the bush for their future plans, a guy who had been working in the field but wanted the qualifications, a young, alternate thinking German guy, and 4 other young South African guys. We all got on well luckily cos you spend a month in each others company eating, sleeping and dreaming about trees, rocks, grasses, birds and mammals. Life on the outside became a distant memory while we learnt about nature and how things work together. Awesome stuff! It was hard work remembering everything which just keeps piling up but Rainer, the lecturer at www.bushveldtrainingadventures.co.za, is a fantastic teacher. He paints a captivating picture of nature and his passion and vast knowledge of all subjects makes it easier to digest all the information. Sakkie, his partner, is a more hands on guy and has been reading the bush longer than I’ve read my ABC’s. He’s quite a character, packed with wonderful bush experiences, calls his students drolpere and is said to be the best assessor around here.
Did you know that grass has shaped the evolution of mammals? Its not just something you have to mow over the weekend, it’s actually the primary producer in a food chain.
Have you thought about the fact that rocks determine what life grows where since they make up the soil determining which plants grow there which determines what animals can survive there?
Did you know that termites farm with fungi mushrooms in their long underground tunnels which they keep at a certain temperature, not fluctuating more than 2 degrees by using air vents and that they actually place fungi spores on the backs of termites when they leave to start new colonies?
Did you know that mistletoe seeds are eaten by a bird who likes the outside layer of the seed but can’t digest the next layer so it fly’s off to another tree, regurgitates the seed which now excretes a gooey substance so when the bird wipes his beak and the seed onto a branch, the mistletoe seed grows there and that’s how it propagates.
Did you know some mammals can induce the female species to go into estrus, that a horny elephant in musth will travel up to a 100 km’s to mate with a female in a different herd as apposed to his own herd, that in fact all animals are aware of how they spread their genes by not using the same gene pool and some species will sacrifice their own sexual drive in order to ensure the packs survival.
I can go on and on with stuff like this but just cos I’m into this kinda stuff now, doesn’t mean everyone else is. I’d love to elaborate a little more on the above stuff to give you the whole picture but Theo says I’m probably boring my readers. (that is if I have any followers since its been 2 months since I’ve blogged – laptop and time problems).
During the course, we left Combretum Park for 5 days and went to the Kruger National Park to see and study the big 5 since they don’t have any at the course venue. We stayed at different camps, 2 of which were actually outside the Kruger but with open fences.
Manyaleti was the best cos we had animals right at our doorstep. Literally – in fact Rainer warned us not to walk around alone but I had no plans to become supper for the local leopard anyway. Accommodation was big comfortable tents on wooden decks with proper beds and your own inside rustic bathroom consisting of a flush toilet and to shower you boil water on the gas cooker then fill a bucket, hoist it up and there you go. Really cool. We couldn’t believe our luck when just after arriving, we were busy with a class on the braai deck when a herd of elephants sauntered past us in the dry river bed about 20 meters away. They communicate in sub sonic low rumbles by the way. If the Matriarch in the front stops then the rest don’t carry on walking, they all stop dead and all move on together. At dusk a hyena slunk past the kitchen area (I could carry on forever about them) and on the first night the German guy kakked in his pants cos while he was showering, a leopard watched him through the floor slats from under his tent.
On a guided game drive we were really lucky to see a coalition of 4 male cheetahs on the prowl looking to get laid probably. Over the next few days we saw more elephant, a big fat python slowly slither across the road, we saw birds, zebra, hippo, buffalo, crocodiles, giraffe, antelope, warthogs, rhino, a lazing lion, a hyena and feeding vultures.
My startled look was wearing off as my new eyebrows settled on my face only to reappear as we pulled in at Combretum Park to find that the farm had burnt down while we were away. Luckily none of the rooms were damaged (no thatch roof or grass nearby) but the bus got a little heat damage (got insurance luckily) and one bike tyre melted (no insurance – but such is life). Unfortunately the classroom (thatch roof) burnt down with all Rainers books and collection of animal skulls etc. We wondered about safety of the roaming antelope and smaller animals but apparently most survived, although starving.
We both passed the national exam and are now qualified to become Field Guides or manage a lodge or become overland tour guides. Theo, and most other students, also did a 10 day rifle handling course afterwards with Sakkie, enabling him to carry a rifle in a landie if doing a tour. I helped Sakkie with bullets etc and even got to shoot a .22 and a 375 rifle which exploded with such power next to my ear that my new eyebrows would have blown off had the headband of my earmuffs not kept them in place. Like I said, they’re rather high up.
So now that we’re qualified, the next step is finding employment. But that’s another story.
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