And Thanks for all the Fish

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.