Getting Started

It had been five and a half years since I last traveled to Africa.  Then I had gone in the summer, and that trip culminated in the wedding of my friends Brett and Claire, whom you shall meet later in this account.  This time I decided to go in the southern winter, mostly to get away from the oppressive heat of the Taiwanese summer.  I further elected to approach this trip as a tourist, which is something I’ve not really done in my own country.  Having bought my ticket, I informed Tonya, an American friend who’d expressed an interest in visiting South Africa.  She promptly purchased a seat on the same outbound flight, though she chose to limit her visit to three weeks, while I’d stay longer.

It was both fun and somewhat difficult booking accommodation.  Hotels were out of the question considering that I would stay for just under five weeks.  So we looked for self-catering units, and the assortment was dazzling.  I came upon the websites SA-venues, CapeStays and the most intoxicating of all, LekkeSlaap.  This latter website was available only in Afrikaans, and what was more, it seemed intolerant of colloquial Anglicism that has seeped into that language.  It tested my memory, and I am happy to say that I did understand almost every word. 

Booking was easy enough, but paying deposits proved troublesome.  This is likely (though I am not sure) due to the prevalence of fraud in my stunning homeland.  Some places insisted on bank transfers, and it was only then it came to my attention that South Africa’s FICA had frozen the funds in my account!  I had to give up on a spot or two as a result.  Other places needed me to email my handwritten credit card details and secret code.  Gosh, what a scary thing to send to South Africa!  The remainder accepted online credit card payments, which just makes the most sense to me.  Anyhow, there were hiccups with two bookings, and one of those blamed me for misunderstanding their booking procedures, after they had confirmed receipt of my booking request!  We did not stay there, of course.

In hindsight, though, I must say that I was very impressed with South Africa’s choices.  I paid about the same on average per night as I had in the Baltics, and on this trip, the standard was much higher.  Each place was neat, clean and had more creature comforts than one might anticipate from budget accommodation.  In fact, the rooms were without exception much nicer than hotel rooms at three times the price.  We did stay in one fancy hotel on our second night – the Gold Reef City Casino Hotel.  The rooms were plush, but compared with the other accommodation, not worth the cost.

July 27^th finally arrived and Tonya and I made our way to Taoyuan Airport.  Cathay Pacific carried us to Hong Kong.  Waiting there, we walked a little to ward off boredom.  On this walk, we stumbled upon this very cute decorative idea:

Recycled Motherboards - how creative!

Egoli (Place of Gold)

There was nothing special to the South African Airways flight from Hong Kong, except that the sleeping pills provided by my doctor did nothing more than ensure I jerk through the night.  Sleep did not find me.  Thank goodness I was sitting beside Tonya and not thrashing a total stranger, though I bet she had a different take on that.  Arriving at OR Tambo International the next morning, we exchanged some dinero.  I had miscalculated and we ended up with wads of R100 notes that left us both quite nervous.  We separated them into four bundles which we hid in different places and then spent some of it on SIM cards, air time and 3G data.

At Avis Car Rental, the assistant was courteous and professional, and after finishing up the agreement and handing us the keys, she gently told us next time to please approach the BUDGET counter instead of PREFERRED.  It was confusing getting out of the airport complex, and I circled at least twice before finding the correct exit.  We made our way to Borisimos, which was just beyond the runways, but that likewise proved quite hard to find, despite having saved all maps to my phone prior to departing Taiwan.  In the end, the difficulty was partly because Borisimos had now become Wetlands without prior notification.  

We checked in and, finding that we were not debilitated, decided to go hunting for a voltage converter.  In a shopping centre, in a DisChem pharmacy, I dropped R50 on the ground, and I was so impressed when someone came up to give it back.  I would not have expected that in this troubled country, where indeed I had been robbed on a previous visit.  After shopping and lunch, we returned to Wetlands to rest.  Tonya confided that she was finding it hard to understand the various accents; her own mispronunciation of Afrikaans and Bantu road signs was cute and endearing. 

Next morning I woke early and made my way to the police station.  Was my stay in Johannesburg going to be about running errands?  Documents had to be notarized ahead of renewing my South African driver’s license, which had expired 2 years earlier.  Leaving the cops, two things surprised me.  First, I learned that traffic in South Africa was no longer law-abiding as it had once been.  Versed in excessively careful driving because of where I live, I did look before pulling away at the green light, and thank heavens, or I would have been put down by a speeding truck ignoring its red light.  Second, I somehow opened the boot (trunk) of the car when I got back in after the police station.  A motorist noticed this and pointed and gesticulated until I stopped to check.  A new perception was taking hold of me that South African society had developed, licked its wounds, healed.  People were being kind and helpful.  All this courtesy had thus far come from the very people upon whom my forefathers had trodden.  Where was I?  

Returning to Wetlands, Tonya was up and had discovered she’d left some necessary medication in Taiwan.  A visit to the doctor was required.  There was also an email from Borisimos asking why we had not shown up the previous night.  I politely pointed out that I had booked rooms in Kempton Park, that I had not been informed that their two locations had split, that their website still listed both, and that the fault was not mine.  There was time to enjoy a tantalizingly Western breakfast in the quaint dining room, after which we took our luggage to the next stop, Gold Reef City Casino Hotel.  I had chosen this venue because of the “period town” that was recreated to mimic a gold rush settlement at the adjoining amusement park.  Sadly, we ended up with so many chores that we saw neither the amusement park nor the period town.  They had once offered descents into the disused mine which was also something I wanted Tonya to experience, but we couldn’t even get around to finding out if it was still on offer.

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Leaving our bags in lock-up (it was too early to check in), we made our way to Midrand Licensing Department to legalize my driving.  I had been told that here the queues were shorter, and indeed there were not too many people.  Furthermore, the company I employed to collect the license on my behalf (issuance takes 6-8 weeks; I would be using a temporary license while in South Africa) was located in Pretoria, making this location the most convenient.  However, it took a very long time to get there, and we had to navigate along some dirt roads as this was arguably the least developed area between Pretoria and Johannesburg.  Everything went smoothly, though, and afterwards we went in search of a doctor.  

Sandton being historically the most affluent part of Johannesburg, we headed there for safety’s sake.  We stumbled upon The Wedge Medical Suites, and here Tonya made an appointment for the next day.  We had lunch and wandered about the shops in this outdoor centre.  In every shop we were greeted warmly with “Good day.  How are you?”  Unfortunately, my response of “I’m well, and how are you?” sometimes met with “Good, and you?”  This was when I first noticed that South Africans do not listen.  (I was gradually convinced of this - throughout Johannesburg, wherever we stopped for coffee, I ordered mine with cold milk and invariably got hot.  Later, in Cape Town, I was moved to compliment a waiter for actually paying attention.  However, here it was my friends who could not hear – I had told them all that I was travelling with an American friend, yet most of them were surprised by her attendance!!!  They were, of course, delighted to make her acquaintance.)

Consultation diarized, lunch consumed, a new need could be addressed.  Before leaving Taiwan, Tonya had expressed a hankering for a pair of Merrells.  I’d found online that they were stocked by Cape Union Mart and Tekkie Town.  We’d been into two branches of the former store with no luck, so we now headed to the nearest Tekkie Town.  To get there, we had to travel down Pretoria Main Road, not five kilometers east of lovely Rivonia Road, upon which lay The Wedge Medical Suites.  Here, however, existed a completely different Johannesburg.  The sidewalks were gone, informal traders spilled onto the pot-holed roads, pedestrians jay-walked indiscriminately across the busy thoroughfare, automobiles were old and battered.  Here I felt both unwelcome and at risk.  Tonya agreed with my reading of the vista, and we scarpered.  Google Maps and 3G data led us back to safety.

It was already late afternoon when we arrived back at Gold Reef City.  Quintin, who I know from my time in London, said he would sup with us there, and we rested until evening.  Ready to go, we spilled into the casino.  Quintin was running expectedly late, and Tonya was drawn to the jingling, money-gobbling machines.  She confessed to having not gambled in years, verified by her lament at the absence of One-armed Bandits, and decided on the spur of the moment to have some fun.  As for me, gambling has no appeal.  When I was a teenager, my parents, who did like gambling responsibly, gave me R3 to insert at a casino in a different part of the country.  I put it all in, won R21 and got overly excited.  That R21 gradually disappeared and with it any shred of gamble-lust in my life since.  For this brief, unscripted and powerful lesson I will always be grateful.  I don’t have a moral objection to gambling, not even to those who are out of control, but given the bad habits I have allowed to “taint my good name”, I’m thankful that this was never one of them.

 

Tonya went off on her own and had lots of fun.  I wandered about.  By the time we were ready to eat, Quintin had still not arrived, so we started without him.  He did eventually arrive, and his head had turned completely silver in the years since we last met.  Otherwise, he was still fit and healthy, and it was good to see him.  We got to bed quite late, and the western-sized bathtub in the opulent room remained sadly unused.  (I relish lying in the tub with my book until I fall asleep.  One bonus – possibly the only one – of having a protruding belly is that a book is unlikely to be soaked as it plunges from its reader’s slumbering hands.)

On Thursday morning, I awoke with enough time to enjoy breakfast.  Tonya slept in.  What a spread it was!  All the western favourites were available in abundant supply, and I guzzled carnivorously.  All the roast meats and cold meats and smoked meats and (best of all) boerewors were only lightly interspersed with a slice of tomato for good measure, a scoop of fruit salad here, a helping of sautéed mushrooms there.  I could have eaten twice!  It was then time to get to the doctor.  We put all our luggage in the car and set out.  Arriving with half an hour to spare, we located the nearest Avis agent and added my name to the rental agreement.  We did not also tell them that I had been driving all along – Tonya was afraid to drive on the left.  Returning to the doc, I made my way once again to The Wedge shopping area.  Here I found an ABSA ATM.  I needed to transfer funds to the company who would pick up my driver’s license.  This was the first time I noticed that the choices on the machine were nothing like they had been when last I came.  I tried once and failed.  I tried again, and again the transfer would not go through.  Another failed attempt might have resulted in a confiscated card, so I elected to wait until I could physically enter a branch of the bank.  This thwarted episode will tie in with a sour ordeal later in this travelogue.

Before making our way to Auberge le Fleur, our next delightful self-catering host, we popped into the Woolworths and salivated over their choices of prepared salads.  I was taken back to my trip in the Baltics, where my best friends were Maxima and Rimi Supermarkets.  In South Africa, lamentably, there were no affordable bite-sized portions of smoked salmon.  I did occasionally buy some, but at a higher price and regrettably not as good.  Auberge was stunning.  We had two garden flats in the affluent suburb of Northcliff.  Affordable because of their self-catering status, they were nevertheless serviced daily.  Each flat was large, with all necessities and more.  A big bathtub stood in each bathroom, and this time I did plunge.  Tonya did also, just before I got in my shower to a frigid surprise – one geyser (hot water cylinder) obviously served both rooms.  The icy water was not welcome, it being winter, but it was an honest miscalculation and I was not annoyed.  Besides, both Tonya and I were snug in the winter temperatures as neither of us can bear the heat of a Taiwanese summer.

It was now time for me to venture out on my own and pay a visit to the Spencers, parents of my dear friend Leanne who passed away in 2009.  Northcliff is not too far from where they live.  To get there, I had to make tracks through Florida Glen, Florida North and Florida, reaching Georgina and their abode.  Once again I thought, “Where am I?”  They met me in their humble dwelling, to which they had moved since my last trip.  This home for the aged suited them well for its proximity to amenities and its low cost.  They had both aged markedly in five years and I would not have been able to pick Bernice out in a crowd.  They were jolly and our reunion was warm and loving.  It is quite a singular experience to be “adopted” at the age of 38, to become part of a family by virtue of death, but it is what it is, and I’d have it no other way.

Bernice and I both choked a little when we talked of our lost lady.

I adored and couldn’t stand the pictures she had in her living room.  After tea, we headed to the Garden of Remembrance where Leanne’s ashes lie in a well maintained yard at a church.  It took an age to get there, but we made it and I am so happy we did.  The return trip took much longer, and we got caught in a queue backed-up from an unbelievably retarded traffic light.  Forty-five minutes later, when it was our turn, the light turned red before I had even the time to cross the intersection!

I dropped Bernice and Donald off at their home and headed back to Auberge.  It was growing dark and I had expressly chosen not to drive around Johannesburg at night.  Make haste!  And that’s when I turned into oncoming traffic.  I should say that the markings on the road have seen better days.  It has become hard to see the lines demarcating lanes, and signage is also in disrepair or absent.  I was on “my” side of the road, but unexpectedly on a dual carriageway.  There was no time to put the car in reverse and make for the break in the island, so I made the snap decision to climb said island.  Fortuitously, the pavement was low and there was neither bush nor rock between me and the correct side of it.  A woman who might have crashed into me did a U-turn at that exact point, and glared at me, the obviously drunken or doped up motorist temporarily stranded on a shin-high pedestal of shame, twixt torrents of zooming cars.  Close call!  I did not think to mention it when we returned the car as I had heard nothing slam, crackle or screech.

Back in safety, Quintin was meant to pick me up, but he was still home at 9:30pm, and I went to bed.  On Friday morning Tonya and I took the automatic car back to the airport and picked up a manual.  We'd gotten the automatic for only a few days since in theory Tonya was meant to drive and she can't manage stick.  Then it was off to Martindale to visit Ziona, my longest-standing friend.  We worked out that we'd known each other for 30 years!  Apart from my family, I have no lengthier attachment.  Ziona had cooked a delicious chicken curry, which was preceded by scrumptious samosas.  

During our visit, Tonya played with the dogs and the pet snake (I would never!).  Later, when the dogs were barking, she looked out the sliding door and casually said, "There's someone at the gate.  He's got a chainsaw."  Well, I nearly jumped out of my skin.  Turned out to be someone familiar to Ziona, a man who regularly trims her trees.  

Ziona offered to show us to a Chinese market nearby where Tonya might solve her difficulty with charging her phone and camera.  A cheap item was purchased and served throughout the trip.  From there we bought some nibbles and returned to Ziona's for afternoon tea.  Departing, we made plans to meet up again in a couple of days as Ziona had offered to help solve Tonya's difficulty finding shoes.

That night Quintin eventually did show up, tardy though he was, and we went out for a while.  We met up with his friends Irene and Dave.  They were both congenial, and she was especially interesting.  A successful business woman, owner of a chain of bookstores in both Johannesburg and Cape Town, she was nevertheless wild in manner and broad of mind.  After they all had dinner (I wasn't hungry), we removed to a gay bar nearby to continue with social wetting.  Tonight lent itself to complete mayhem in the company of such Bohemians, but I roped it in as Tonya and I finally had a day of tourism lined up on Saturday.  At around midnight, Quintin dropped me back at Auberge.

Our first stop after waking was the Cradle of Humankind.  This World Heritage Site lies 50km outside Johannesburg.  The drive lasted an hour, and I missed the entrance, though we turned back without delay.  Parking the car, I was once again taken by the warm friendliness of the parking attendant and the guard who both struck up a conversation with us.  I remarked how wonderful I felt about South African society, which was music to their ears.  Being on the ground in SA, they seemed more focused on the very real strife caused by a corrupt government and the 'Tsotsis'.  The word means street thug or gang member, but it incorporates all whose aim it is to steal, batter and kill. 

At this venue, where in 1947 a 2.3 million year old fossil of Australopithecus africanus was found, there now stands a museum.  Entering, we were directed to begin our walk through the timeline.  I forget now if we started with the most recent history and proceeded to the most distant, but it was interesting, although not all the information was unknown to me.  Next we had to stumble through a Vortex, to which Tonya responded well, whereas it made me quite dizzy and off-balance.  Still, it was fun.  A ride through a tunnel in a round boat down a constructed river took us by a variety of displays of ancient humanoids in their natural setting.  Finally we stepped into the exhibition hall proper. 

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After exiting at the back, we took in a wide vista of rolling hills devoid of human development.  Tonya heard cats fighting.  It turned out to be the cries of an infant, wailing in joy as daddy played with her.  We made our way to the restaurant at the entrance to have lunch.  Our next stop was meant to be the Sterkfontein Caves, but we were advised that the journey involved getting onto our hands and knees and crawling through very narrow spaces.  Neither Tonya nor I make a habit of exerting ourselves, so we opted to give that a side-step.

We removed instead to nearby Kromdraai Gold Mine, a defunct gem of history.  As I've said, I wanted Tonya to experience descending into the abyss, although she'd revealed she had done so in another country.  Here, however, we found something completely unexpected, and it was superior because of the surprise.  Following the GPS (I dubbed the voice 'Siri' - Apple Inc's intelligent personal assistant and knowledge navigator - while Tonya was labeled 'my navigatrix'), we came upon an antiquated farm house.  A nutty professor came running down the path, beseeching us to hurry as he was about to commence his lecture to the four Indian travelers who'd arrived before us.  He spoke at length of the history of mining in the area, the particulars of this mine and also the industry as a whole.  He showed us an historic picture of Johannesburg - a single tin shanty standing in a vast empty field, three men with pickaxes poised beside.  All the time he found in his dense brain more information to impart, and it seemed we could be there for hours if he was to tell us all he knew.  He was passionate about his topic and engaging.

The Indians then left - they had already been into the mine - and we followed our guide.  It turned out to be a horizontal shaft, no headgear to lower or hoist workers or ore.  We walked along the first level.  Other levels were visible deeper into the ground, but these were flooded and down narrow angled slopes.  He showed us where the ore had been extracted.  And as we walked, he also pointed out the various species of bat that had taken over the mine as domicile.  In places a single bat hung sound asleep from the tunnel ceiling.  Others slumbered in terrific congregations.  All in all, this was a fascinating and edifying trip, made all the more compelling by the man with facts pouring out of his skull like torrents after a storm.

All we had time for now was a visit to the Lion Park near Lanseria Airport.  Here we were excited at the chance to view rare white lions in addition to other predators and prey.  Approaching the entrance, I spotted a boy of perhaps two or three leaving the wrong way through the turnstiles, unaccompanied.  I picked him up and started worrying what to do now.  Fortuitously, a man sitting in a parked car to my right recognized the boy and took him from me.  I was slightly worried that I might be giving him to a complete stranger, but then how would I know when I met his parents that they were indeed who they said.  Later, at the cashier, the boy had been reunited with another man and his wife, and he seemed quite at home with them.  The parents seemed embarrassed, and I wanted to shout, "I am a teacher. I understand what children do."

Our ticket got us entry to the first section of the park, zoo-like with small enclosures housing ostrich, giraffe, cute cubs and a variety of other animals.  There was also a restaurant and the requisite gift shop.  We wandered around taking in the critters.  The ticket further paid for a truck ride through the much larger, open fields wherein a diversity of antelope ran free.  Hidden from immediate sight were other meadows in which hungry predators of selected species awaited their dinner.  As we prepared to leave, a tame giraffe came up to the truck to inspect its wayfarers, and the friendly thing ended up sticking its head through the bars to give Tonya a kiss or three.  Everyone was amused by this, and a number of people promised her pictures by email - she never received any.

Our guide was informative and fun.  We learned among other things how to tell the male from the female.  I learned that conservation law prohibits the park from feeding live prey to the predators as the prey must have at least a 50% chance of escape.  I learned to my private disgust that in hyena society, a dominant male and female couple are the only ones that breed.  All other females lactate to assist in the rearing of the dominant's young.  What a pitiful existence!

  There were springbok, impala, blesbok and zebra.  We drove deeper into the veld to see lions, white lions, cheetahs and hyenas.  The white lions were exquisite.  I was pleased that we had booked a truck ride because for self-drive customers, the white lions were off-limits.  This is due to the death of an American tourist who was dragged by a lioness from the open window of her car.  Having heard this, I resolved to never open my window in the Kruger National Park, to which we were headed in a couple of days.  

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As we made to exit the park, my eye caught a piece of art with which I fell instantly in love and which I could simply not resist.  Purchase completed, we turned right out the exit after checking with the guard that I had the right road.  We drove a few kilometers and then I started to get uneasy.  Informal settlements and a restless atmosphere began to materialize.  A little while later, ahead on my route, a sprawling shanty town stretched into the distance on both sides of the road, swallowing said artery like a ravenous monster.  I pointed this out to Tonya, who'd been looking down at her phone.  She agreed with my assessment, so we made a rapid about-turn and raced in the opposite direction.  Once again Siri and my navigatrix saved us, this time from possible untold misery.  If you think I'm exaggerating, kindly wait to pass judgment until you've read this whole memoir.

Back within the safety of the city, we tried to eat at Cresta Shopping Centre, but all eateries were closed.  We did, however, come across this genius advertising gimmick.  We then made our way to nearby Nando's, which is a South African institution, and to which I had promised to take Tonya since we landed.  Originally set up by South African Portuguese people, it became a franchise and then spread across the globe, operating 1000 establishments in 30 countries.  Bottled Nando's sauces are also sold all over the planet, and I even saw some on the shelves of Rimi and Maxima in the Baltics.  Regrettably, Tonya did not enjoy her meal, but then she did order hummus, for which Nando's is not known.  It is fundamentally renowned for chicken and peri-peri.  I loved my chicken dish.

It was now dark and we returned to Auberge.  On Sunday morning, we took dirty clothes to the laundromat nearby.  (I was thrilled to not have a repeat of my Baltic misfortune regarding clothes washing - here laundry services were readily available, either at our accommodation or at a shopping centre close-at-hand.)  We had arranged to meet Ziona here, from where she would guide us to footwear outlets.  Tonya did not find what she was looking for, but she bought an acceptable substitute at a branch of Cape Union Mart. 

Next we made tracks for Monte Casino, a gambling complex in the north of Johannesburg.  We did not head there for the obvious reason - I was going to meet Monique, whom I know from when I lived in Cape Town a lifetime ago.  She worked at the time for a chain of Indian restaurants, one of which was located in this complex, and she thought it the easiest place to meet.  It was indeed quite spectacular.  The interior was designed to replicate a European street; even the ceiling changed colour to imitate the sky going from day to dark; the blue canopy and puffy clouds relenting to black universe and twinkling stars.

We took a meal at the Spur, another South African institution.  Our conversation was animated and jovial.  After consuming, Tonya and Ziona went off separately to enjoy the jingly machines while Monique and I walked about, ate ice cream and window-shopped.  She confided that she desperately wanted to leave The Raj, having worked there for many years. 

                   

She had been for an interview with Bidvest, which is a company I do not ever remember seeing in South Africa.  Now in 2015, however, it seems one of the most expansive enterprises in the country.  Founded in 1988 and listed on the Johannesburg stock exchange in 1990, the conglomerate "owns or has significant holdings in over 300 companies and is active across five continents". Bidvest South Africa's services and products include freight, office products, leading motor brands, travel and aviation services, security, cleaning and landscaping, hygiene rental equipment, consumer appliances, catering, electrical products, printing, banking and insurance.  (Wikipedia)  They operate in Australasia, Asia, Africa, Europe and South America.

When Monique and I were together, she had not been successful in her application with them, but she was very excited to tell me after my return to Taiwan that she had indeed landed a job with Bidvest Foodservice and would be starting with them in October.  Moving on and having fresh experiences is always so exciting! 

All good reunions must come to an end, and at 5pm it was time to part.  Monique returned home and I took Tonya and Ziona to meet Quintin's mother.  En route, Tonya somehow pressed the wrong switch, thereby popping the bonnet (hood).  None of us noticed it until a hawker at a set of lights pointed it out and kindly closed it for us.  I was impressed anew at the benevolence of the community. 

Audrey and I had met whenever I visited Quintin - we'd always stop by for tea or a meal.  She'd moved to a new house since my last visit, having sold her place in Northcliff.  I had tried to get Quintin to take me there, but inasmuch as he is a challenged timekeeper, I realized it was up to me to get together with her of my own accord.  It was great to see her, husband Reg and to meet her sister, who was staying with her at the time.  I would have loved to stay longer, but Tonya and I were departing Johannesburg the next morning, and I had promised to see Quintin himself one final time.  I apologetically cut our visit short, dropped Ziona at her car, which was still at the laundromat, and Tonya at Auberge.  Then I headed across town, to where Quintin was now headmaster of a private school that offered him accommodation on the grounds.  It too was a short visit.  I was amused by the sign that had not been repaired (ASSESSMENT CENTRE).  At the end of my stopover, Quintin insisted we meet again at Johannesburg International during my layover on my return to Taiwan.  We agreed, and I departed to Auberge for the last night.