The route took us back through the Soutpansberge and then East again to Tzaneen and then Phalaborwa. A visit to, as they claim, the largest Baobab in the world was our first great highlight of the day. In Modjadjiskloof near Tzaneen, Chris drove down a short section of dirt road and into a parking lot beside a truly massive tree. It is said to be around 6000 years old and its trunk is hollow, the space inside the trunk accommodates a bar where several people can fit comfortably. We spent a very relaxing time with this tree, everybody impressed not only with its size but also with its “personality”. So we touched the warm, smooth bark, walked around the tree, lay down in the grass to look up into its branches and generally enjoyed the visit. A mug of tea served on the table beside the tree helped the rest of our sandwiches from the packed breakfast go down well.

Much too soon it was time to say good-bye to the wonderful tree and we carried on towards Phalaborwa. We were stopped for a long time at road works which was of course not at all nice for Chris who was driving. But it did turn out to be an interesting delay in that we got to enjoy the antics of one of the workers who directed the traffic. Obviously he was also bored out of his skull with the waiting so he was listening to music on his cell phone and dancing all across the road. His colleagues did not bat an eyelash, so it seemed that this was normal behaviour from him, but the drivers who got to watch him all looked quite amused.

A shopping expedition through the large supermarket in Phalaborwa was on the agenda in order to buy all the food that was necessary for self catering for the next few days at Olifants Camp. Then everybody very kindly and patiently waited until I popped into a shop in the mall to get a new compact camera in order to take photos on the cycling tours.

It was hot at Phalaborwa gate when Lizzie went to sign us in to the park. It didn’t take long before we were trundling slowly along the road towards Letaba Camp. Impalas grouped together in the shade of bushes and trees. Of course everybody wanted to stop at every flash of movement, it was all so exciting. But Chris had to caution us a little bit as we needed to reach our destination, Olifants Camp, in time to settle in to our accommodation and then be ready to go on the Sunset Drive at 3.30 pm. But of course we did stop for a massive elephant bull who slowly trundled away from us through the Mopane, showing us his impressive backside and not deigning to turn around and look at us. And of course we stopped for a small herd of buffalo that were snoozing through the heat of midday in the sparse shade of some Mopane scrub.

Thanks to Chris we reached Olifants Camp well in time to settle in and get our camera equipment ready, unpack a light jacket and then go to the meeting point for the Sunset Drive. About 20 people piled into the truck, then our guide introduced himself before driving out of camp and off into the bush. The descent out of camp to river level didn’t yield much in the way of sightings, but as we crossed the causeway over the Olifants River we enjoyed the lush green of the riverine vegetation and the sight of a herd of elephants feeding in the thick reed of the far bank. The reed was so high that some of the smaller elephants were almost invisible, their movements noticeable only because the plants waved and wobbled wildly as they moved through them. Unfortunately there was no time to stop on the causeway because other cars were waiting to cross, and, as our guide commented, they were already a bit late for the closing of the camp gate!

Once we were away from the river valley again, the vegetation consisted of dry golden grass and thorn trees. Very soon we came across a small breeding herd of elephants with tiny youngsters and watched them for a while, fascinated. The adults were feeding whilst many of the youngsters played as evening brought them relief from the heat. They jostled each other and ran slalom courses in amongst the massive adults. Some ripped up bundles of grass or acacia branches and waved them around. One youngster decided that our truck was a good toy and gave us a display of his most threatening behaviour.

Reluctantly we left the elephants to themselves and carried on to watch a group of giraffe feeding on some thorn trees. The patterns on their hides looked very beautiful in the soft light of evening. Again a little further on and just before sunset, we came across a small herd of old buffalo bulls, huge and black and powerful-looking. They stared at us with their heads raised and wide-spreading horns glinting in the last sunlight.

Once again our guide stopped in order to let us take photographs of the setting sun, then we carried on in the dark with several spotlights searching the bush for movement and the reflections of eyes in the darkness. Quite speedily, the guide drove us to a water hole along the main tar road. About 80 metres from the small pan, two lionesses lay sprawled in the tawny grass that was almost the same colour as their fur, particularly in the artificial light of the spots. We watched them for quite a while. Occasionally one or the other of them would raise her head and yawn, pink tongue curled between impressive teeth. After a time, our guide said he needed to drive back to camp or we would be late. We hadn’t gone far when three spotted hyenas crossed the road in front of our car and then stopped to look back at us and investigate, heads held high, sniffing at all the smells coming from the truck. Again we carried on for a bit when another vehicle came tearing along behind us. Our guide consulted with the driver of the other car and then turned around fast to zoom back the way we had come.

We soon reached the water hole again where we had seen the lionesses. They were still there. In the meantime a lone bull elephant had arrived and was drinking from the small pond. Our guide said that his  colleague who had come to fetch us had just seen a leopard here but obviously it had been chased away by the elephant. At the mention of a leopard the people handling the spotlights went wild and probed every bush and every rock. Andrew was working one of the lights and he was the most persistent in claiming that he had seen something move behind a fallen tree trunk. Our guide took a little side-road and approached the water from a different angle. Excited calls from the other tourists on the truck turned to disappointed groans when the spotted animals slinking towards the water turned out to be the trio of hyenas that we had seen along the road. They warily approached the water just as the elephant turned away and plodded off, perhaps irritated by the disturbance we were causing. Just as our guide repeated that he really must go now or else be very late, Andrew insisted that something HAD moved behind the tree trunk. Everybody aimed the spotlights that way and there, indeed, was the leopard, stretching languorously like a typical cat, front paws extended, claws digging into the ground and yawned. Then it started to wander towards us and walked past the truck at a distance of a mere few metres. Everybody had a very good look at the leopard as it strolled past and off into the bush in the direction of the lions. Luckily it didn’t seem to pass close to them!

The guide said that now we were way late and really had to rush to get back. The good intention lasted exactly two minutes. We reached the main road and everybody had a last look at the lionesses. They now also got to their feet and started to wander off, again in our direction, and walked right past our truck and across the road. What an evening! Our guide swore he would now only stop for extremely special sightings.

The rest of the drive was rather uneventful after all this excitemet, except for a lady sitting in the front of the truck who insisted on covering herself from head to toe in mosquito repellent every five minutes. This had been okay whilst we were plodding along at game drive speed. But now that our guide was driving faster, the spray got blown back and landed on my and in my eyes a few times until I had to ask her politely to stop the spraying. She was rather grumpy about it but fortunately stopped!

Back in camp we were of course very late but extremely pleased with our guide. We all shook his hand whilst he beamed at us. Once we arrived at Lizzie and Chris’s hut, they has a beautiful dinner table laid for us and some delicious kebabs on the braai to go with the huge and scrumptious salad. We had a wonderful relaxed dinner, then everybody went down to the kitchen together to deal with the dishes. We had to make an early night of it as we were due at reception again at 5.15 AM for our first bike ride in Kruger National Park!

By now we were getting quite blasé with the deep sand and ploughing through it quite nicely albeit with some slight steering difficulties. We were still unsuccessfully looking for the “bonsai baobab” that was allegedly about 2000 years old and extremely stunted because it was growing on a rock and because the leaves were constantly being nibbled by impala and kudu that visited the waterhole where it grew. Again, we did not find the baobab but we had fun on the ride and Chris took us on a short cross-country excursion over some rocks and through some bushes. Exhilarated by the ride and with a few scrapes from thorns we returned to the lodge for a super-quick shower and then we set off for Mapungubwe whilst the others saw us off on our tour and then got back on their bikes.

We got to Mapungubwe well on time for the 10 AM tour of the Heritage Site. Along the way I thoroughly enjoyed the amazing colours of the Mopane and the rocks all blending into a beautiful scenery of green, yellow, brown and red.

By the time we had climbed into the open vehicle with two other guests from New Zealand and our tour guide Cedric, it was getting quite hot.  The scenery we passed through on the way to the archaeological site was stunning and even more dramatic than what we had seen the previous day. Huge rocky outcrops and cliffs, tumbled boulders, rock figs clinging to the bare stone surfaces that had to be extremely hot by now. Along the way, our guide spotted some wildebeest and Kudu as well as a family of Klipspringer that bounded over the rock surface as if they were on level ground.

Cedric parked the vehicle in the shade of a few trees and then led us to the excavation site where he explained the various levels of earth that the archaeologists had dug up and the secrets that they revealed. He spoke very eloquently of the lives of the people who stayed in this place roughly a thousand years ago. How they made pottery from clay and lovingly decorated it with distinctive pattens, how they traded beads and gold, how they smelted iron and made arrowheads for hunting. Also, he showed us where huts had been burned down because people believed that evil inhabited them and explained that new huts had then been built right on top of the old ones, resulting in the layers of hut floors that were visible.

After this we climbed up the wooden staircase to the top of Mapungubwe Hill. Here Cedric showed us where earth that was all carried by women by hand had been distributed on the huge rock so that a few crops could be grown there. He showed us where the kings and their closest family had been buried sitting upright and facing West. Some of the huts had been built up on the rock, their support poles had been anchored in the rock itself by means of holes scraped into the actual rock surface. All around there were grinding stones which had been used to mill grain, mostly sorghum and millet, for food.

For a few minutes we stood on the edge of a precipice, looking down a deep drop onto the valley floor. Cedric explained that this was “proposal rock” and that women who declined to marry the man who asked them were pushed or made to jump off this cliff. He told us all this with a very straight face but fortunately turned out to be teasing us.

Later he showed us where the two double rows of dips for the game that is played all over Africa. Again he teased us and said that what we all took for a game was in fact a useful tool as these dips were all egg holders for chicken eggs with a larger one on the side for an ostrich egg!

We had a bit of fun with that, then climbed back down the hill to the vehicle.  On our way back to the gate we saw a family of three klipspringers and watched them for a while.  Once back at the bus we had a bite of lunch and then returned to the lodge to find the others draped around the swimming pool in relaxed postures. We went to change and then joined them. It was good to do nothing in particular for an hour or so except chat and enjoy.

Shortly after 3 pm we changed and fetched the bikes for another short ride. This time Lizzie knew exactly where the bonsai Baobab was and led us there in a bee line. The ancient little tree was amazing! It had a massive, thick root and trunk. Its limbs were gnarled and stunted to short stumps with a very few tiny leaves emerging from the tips. The fact that it had leaves in the first place was interesting because all the other big Baobabs were still completely bare. I attributed this to the fact that this bonsai was growing on the edge of a water hole and thus had a constant supply of water which the others probably didn’t have. Its root had cracked a huge slab of rock and lifted it a good 25 cms off the ground. What a strong and ancient little tree and what stories it would be able to tell!

We didn’t have much time so we rode a little tour through the bush after leaving the bonsai, then returned to the lodge to wash and change for our sundowner drive.

We drove to a different rock this time and climed up to the top. Another magnificent view of massive Baobabs towering above the Mopane scrub, of whaleback rocks bathed in soft evening light. Shorty (who isn’t short) showed us some beautifully patterned pot shards on the top of the rock that indicated habitation here, too, about a thousand years ago. He said that the pattern was distinctive and of Shona origin. We sipped our drinks and chatted until the sun disappeared behind the horizon and the lights of Beit Bridge twinkled in the distance. Then we climbed back down and returned to the lodge for another delicious dinner.

All the following images today courtesy of Katrin Philipp.

We had established that none of us really had much experience with cycling the sand, so Chris gave us a few tips on how best to  do this while we munched on fruit, cereals and eggs.

And then the big moment arrived. We each grabbed our bikes and off we went into the bush. At first it was easy and plan sailing until we hit the first patch of sand. Some of us sailed through, the rest got stuck at some stage. Obviously there was a difference between having the theory of the sand-cycling in your mind and actually putting it into practice.

But in spite of the frequent stops and the near-tumbles, what a delight it was to be out in the bush an riding in amongst the Mopane and the Baobabs! I was being rather wussy because I had my valuable SLR Camera in my backpack and was afraid for it but it was a very enjoyable morning nevertheless.

There were a few wounds, Katrina was the first to take a tumble when she misjudged a trick bit of donga where part of the path was washed away. Fortunately a scrape and a couple of bruises were the extent of the damage. Lizzie had a first aid kit with her and did a sterling job cleaning and disinfecting. There were a few more scratches from thorn bushes but that is as per normal when moving around in the bush.

Whilst we were out, the wind that had picked up after sunrise brought thick clouds with it that looked rather threatening but did ease the way for us on our first morning by keeping us cool.

We cycled to another of the huge whaleback rocks that we had been looking at from the rock near the lodge. A few boulders were piled onto one end of that rock and we had seen that one of them was completely white on one side. We had hoped to find an eagle’s nest upon it but no such luck. The white stuff was probably from thousands of years of rock hyraxes peeing down the granite.

In total we cycled something like 12 kms before returning to the lodge happy and sweaty.

After a quick shower we piled into the bus and headed for Mapungubwe World Heritage Site. This is a scenically stunning national park with lots of wild animals and an archaeologically very interesting site as well. We were planning to go on the heritage tour but the schedules had been changed, there was no afternoon tour any more. Thus we decided that whilst we were there we might as well go on a game drive and have a look down from the platforms that are positioned to offer a view of the confluence of the Limpopo and the Shashe Rivers.

With Chris at the wheel and Katrina reading the rather rudimentary and not extremely informative map, we started off into the Mopane bush.

Terrapins were sunning themselves on rocks and dead branches in the middle of a little dam. Amazing how many of the little reptiles piled onto a single tiny surface. A grey heron was sitting motionless in a patch of reeds and a small herd of impala came down to drink whilst we watched.

There was no way for Chris to move at anything faster than a snail’s pace because we were all fascinated with the enormous baobabs, the amazing scenery and the wild animals.

Our attempts to reach the large dam that was marked on the map were frustrated several times, once by a chain across the road and once by a sign that said “4×4 only”.

Thus we ended up chugging slowly along a narrow road along what seemed to be part of the Zambezi floodplain. Ilala palms towered over us and huge sycamore figs spread thick branches wide. A group of border jumping elephants climbed carefully over the low fence of thick wire cable and browsed in the bushes on either side of the road. They watched us as we watched them wrap their trunks around branches, rip them off and begin to chew off the bark.

All the time we were aware of the striking scenery of huge, craggy cliffs, gnarled rock figs with whitish roots stretching several metres over rock surfaces before finding purchase and nutrients in tiny cracks.

Ascending back onto the plateau, we ended up at the confluence viewpoints. We were slowly running out of time so we walked to one of the platforms and had a look down at the confluence of the Limpopo and Shashe Rivers. Every time I see this, I am impressed with the gorgeous view of the broad sandy bed of the Limpopo and the smaller, meandering Shashe, still bringing some threaded channels of water into the big River. And knowing that just across the river is Zimbabwe is a definite pull to the heart!

Along the way, a beautiful eland bull browsed on some bushes and did not seem at all perturbed by our presence. We photographed him from all angles and then had to make tracks because we were running very late. We just had time to stop at the lovely hide at the end of tree top walk to watch some birds at the Shashe River. White fronted bee eaters, Pied kingfischers, Egyptian geese, then it was time to whizz back to the lodge for our sundowner drive.

We got back just in time to got to our rooms, fetch fresh camera batteries and a jacket and thengo back to the meeting point. We climbed onto the small game drive vehicle and chugged off into the bush. We reached the same rock that we had visited in the morning and climbed up onto the whaleback to watch the sunset. I had earlier seen in the bar that they had some tins of Stoney ginger beer and had asked for one for my sundowner. It was delicious as always and so amazing to watch the orange then reddish light of the setting sun paint the huge baobabs and the surrounding rocks in soft clours. We sipped and chatted until the sun had disappeared behind the horizon and the lights of Beit Bridge shone across the border to us, then packed up our things and climbed back down to the car.

We were all so exhausted that conversation slowed to a halt near the end of dinner and we all went to our rooms immediately after the meal.

Approaching Johannesburg we were both very excited, fistly about being able to climb out of the aircraft and walk for a while and secondly about starting out on our adventure!

The massive queues at Immigration were a bit of a cold shower but fortunately the officers were extremely fast and efficient, so we didn’t take long at all to get through and find our luggage. Once through customs Lizzie found us very quickly and guided us over to where Chris and the other two guests, Jane and Andrew, were waiting. Their friendly smiles and kind acceptance of the fact that we were going to keep them waiting even longer because we still had to change money and buy phone cards reassured us that we were going to have a good time together.

After getting everything sorted, we were off! At first everybody was excited and chattery but soon several times fourty winks were taken and there were stretches of silence.

As usual, my favourite part of the drive North was coming down from the Soutpansberge and into the Mopane. Later, when we turned West after passing through Musina, it was a delight to admire the colours of the Mopane bush in the soft afternoon light. The leaves are all shades from biscuit brown via yellow to green.  I can never get enough of the sight!

We arrived at our lodge at about 5 PM. There was just enough time to dump our belongings in our rooms, put on some lighter clothing and climb up a huge granite whaleback rock behind the lodge in order to watch the sunset. Up there we all seemed to realise that we were now really in Africa and had arrived. It was impossible to choose where to look first, we had a 360° view of Mopane as far as the eye could see, with massive Baobabs towering above the scrub and huge whaleback rocks, rounded and ancient rising up above everything else. Unfortunately it was at that moment that I realised my faithful little cycling camera had kicked the bucket and was taking very weird pictures indeed. A relatively minor irritant on such a beautiful evening.

The sun tinged the scenery in red and gold as it set and we all enjoyed the last moments in silence, then climbed back down. A very welcome hot shower awaited us, then generous and very tasty helpings of dinner in great company, what more could we wish for?

Have a great weekend everybody!

To make up for this, here are a bunch of photos from the latest trip to Eastern Cuba. Enjoy!

Best wishes, Sabine

When Mike got back, things became slightly hectic. He announced that his friend Derek had found a seat on a small aircraft flying into Niassa’s Lugenda Camp for me and that we had to be at the airport by 8.30. I was allowed to take a small overnight bag and my camera equipment, he would take the rest of my belongings in the truck. On the one hand I was very excited about flying in a small aircraft, it is something I love very much, it is beaten only by flying in a helicopter or in an ultralight! On the other hand I felt as if I were deserting Mike and thought it wouldn’t be nice of me at all to leave him to drive the long distance alone. Also, I thought it would be very interesting to go along with Mike and see what the scenery was like. Mike persuaded me to take the flight (it wasn’t difficult!) and said that I could ride along with him on the way back.

I re-packed quickly, hauling a change of clothing out of my bag and a few cosmetics, stuck them in a little carrier, then we quickly reloaded the truck together. A shower was in order after that, as all the equipment was still thickly covered in dust. We still needed to stop off at the market for some things that Mike urgently needed. He said we would swing by the Potato Market on our way to the airport. Mike crossed the busy road and then disappeared quickly in the maze of small tin and wood shacks. I didn’t have much of a chance to browse what was on sale because it was my job to watch the Cruiser and make sure that nobody stole any of our equipment. But one thing did strike me as very interesting: from where I stood, i could see plastic flipflops, brightly coloured bowls, clothing, pirate CDs, shoes, cooking pots and a host of other things on sale, but not one single potato. When Mike got back I asked him why on earth this place was called the Potato Market if they sold everything there except potatoes. He laughed and suggested that perhaps potatoes weren’t in season which I thought was quite a plausible explanation.

We reached the small airport just on time and I met the very nice couple who were flying to Lugenda with me, Sue and Barry from Harare. Mike waved good bye through the fence as we walked to the plane but his truck was still there when we took off so he must have waited to make sure that all was ok. Sue and Barry unanimously decided that I was to ride in front, as I looked like the ideal co-pilot. I wasn’t about to protest, and scrambled in across the pilot’s seat. The pilot himself looked too young to drive a car, let alone fly a plane, but he certainly did his job with precision and definitely gave the impression of knowing what he was doing.

It wasn’t long before we were taxiing, then racing along the runway and finally experiencing that exhilarating moment when the plane lifts off and soars. I don’t think I’ll ever lose the childlike excitement that this moment provokes, whether it’s in a big jet or a small aircraft. I turned to look at Sue and Barry, they were both grinning as well, obviously enjoying themselves. From our vantage point we could look out over the coastline and the sea, brilliant blue water and sky, white sandy beaches and brown/green vegetation. It wasn’t long before we lost sight of the ocean and flew over comparatively flat, dry scenery, brown, ochre and yellow colours dominated. In quite a few places, plumes of smoke from bush fires rose almost straight skywards in the motionless air. Dry riverbeds snaked through the bush, an escarpment rose out of the haze, with another dry riverbed winding along it’s edge.

Some time later, strangely-shaped hills were visible in the haze in front of us. We flew quite close to them and they were fascinating, high, bleak granite with rounded domes, softly eroded edges and caves with secret valleys in between them. Then a broad river lay below us. I caught a fascinating glimpse of flowing channels sparkling in between yellow-white sandbanks, lush green vegetation on either side, expanses of reeds and rocky rapids before we banked and turned, then dropped lower before buzzing a little bush-airstrip, banking sharply again and coming in to land. We touched down very softly, as if the pilot wanted to prove that he was good despite his youth.

A couple of Landcruisers puttered up to the plane once the dust of our landing had settled. I met Mike’s friend Derek and his lovely lady friend Paula and was introduced to a young guide named Andrew who loaded Sue, Barry and myself onto his open Landcruiser and drove us off to Lugenda Camp. Before even reaching the camp, we were greeted by vervet monkeys racing through the huge fig trees that shaded the tents. On arrival, the most eye-catching thing was the small swimming pool right on the edge of the river, surrounded by a wooden deck and very inviting parasols and sunbeds. The lounge and dining room, open at the sides to let the air circulate, were under thatch and tastefully furnished, though with the focus on comfort rather than “poshness”. After a very welcome cold drink, we were shown to our tents, beautifully furnished and decorated, comfortable, spacious, light and airy. Had a quick shower and washed my by now rather grubby shirt, then strolled back to the lounge where I had a lovely chat with Derek and Paula as we all downloaded our emails whilst the generator was running. At one stage, I thought a cloud had moved across the sky because it suddenly seemed darker in the lounge where we were sitting. But Derek who was seated opposite me pointed behind me and grinned. I turned to see an elephant bull strolling along the path between the lounge and the swimming pool! “That’s Ben,” Derek said, “as long as you stay out of his way everything should be fine.” Indeed, Ben didn’t look bothered by our presence at all and he wandered further along the path, picking up figs from the ground here and there and munching them.

Lunch was light and delicious, then it was nap time before we went on afternoon game drive. A short catnap on the comfortable bed was most welcome. We met back at the lounge for a drink, then we clambered onto the Landcruiser for our drive. We weren’t quite out of camp when Andrew stopped for some Böhm’s bee eaters, very beautiful and special little birds. A few metres further on, he stopped again for a Racket tailed roller, a first for me! We continued on through beautiful but dry Miombo woodland. We were trundling along and just about to cross a small dry steam bed by way of a little bridge when we all saw a flash of whitish-yellow with dark spots on the dark soil at the stream’s bank. A leopard, sunning himself and relaxing in broad daylight! Of course when Andrew stopped, the cat got to its feet and sauntered off into the tall golden grass, turning its head to look back at us now and then. An incredibly special sighting!

We drove on through the Miombo, slapping tsetse flies quite frequently in some areas. Another first for me was what looked like perfectly normal impalas but were in fact Johnsons impalas. As the sun sank, we stopped at a beautiful spot on the riverbank for sundowners. The river channels wound their way through rocks here and formed pools that reflected the red of the sinking sun. The ride back to camp was leisurely and we saw plenty of animals though nothing particularly nocturnal. Dinner was delicious and we were treated to a wonderful setting as the table had been laid for us on the deck by the swimming pool. The company was great as was the food, so it was comparatively late by the time I got back to my tent. After listening to the night sounds for a while, barred owls and scops owls, the grumbling of a vervet monkey disturbed in its sleep, I slept like a log until just before first light.

At first the road was fine, obviously newly surfaced and smooth. The area was very densely populated, many people cycled and walked along the road whilst there was not much vehicle traffic. Bicycles were piled high with goods, long building planks, huge sacks of charcoal, chickens in cages, baskets, boxes and all sorts of other containers. One lady caught my eye, she was wearing a bright blue Kapulana as a skirt, a white t-shirt and carried a shocking pink stick-umbrella on her head for later when the sun got too hot.

A little later, Mike navigated us through some quite long road works but as there wasn’t an awful lot of traffic, it wasn’t too bad. We reached Nampula in the late morning. It was a driver’s nightmare! There were minibus taxis everywhere and they did just as they wished with no regard whatsoever for others … reminded me vividly of Accra though a lot smaller of course. Add narrow roads with crumbling verges, lots of people, bicycles and motorbikes to the large volume of traffic, plus a few traffic lights and bad signposting for good measure and it was chaos. Mike stopped at a fuel station he knew to fill up with diesel and bought some fish chapatis from a lady who ran the café there. I probably would have been too chicken to eat them if Mike hadn’t insisted they were good and he was right, they were absolutely delicious, crisp, juicy and just nicely spicy! After stretching our severely complaining legs briefly, we pressed on. Mike coped admirably with the traffic chaos, my nerves would have been shredded if I’d had to drive in that town!

As we continued, the area seemed a bit less densely populated and dryer, not as lushly green as before. At times we both listened to our MP3 players for a while. I wasn’t really watching where we were going when Mike slammed on the brakes and grinned, whilst I looked around, a little bit flustered. Mike grumbled at his sore muscles as he hopped out of the Cruiser and walked back to talk to some people beside the road. I looked back out of the window and saw that they were selling pineapples. Mike reappeared with four of the lovely fruit in different stages of ripeness. We stowed them in the back of the truck and carried on.

After a while, Mike pointed out cashew trees to me and I looked at them with interest. They appeared very different from the ones I remembered seeing in Ghana. We both looked out carefully for somebody selling cashew nuts as we both had a great weakness for them. Again Mike slammed on the brakes when he spotted a young man with a red plastic bowl in his hand. The vendor showed us the contents of the bowl, the nuts were cleanly peeled and roasted. He poured the contents of the bowl into a plastic bag and handed it over to us. I still didn’t have a handle on how much the Meticais were worth so I asked Mike and he said we’d spent about 2 US$ on the big bag of cashews. Nothing compared to the cost of them in Europe! We continued on our way, reaching into the bag occasionally and savouring the crunchy nuts.

It amazed me how tirelessly Mike drove. We reached Pemba at about 4 PM and I immediately liked the place. How can you not like a town where strangely stunted bonsai-Baobabs grow right next to the sea? The air was warm and mild, smelled of the sea, otherwise the town was not very remarkable. What I did find interesting was a statue that looked like a man pointing a sword or a gun forward, wrapped in greenish fabric so that the sword (or whatever weapon it was) strongly resembled an umbrella more than anything else. I wondered what this was about, had pacifists wrapped the statue up? Was the wrapping a work of art by Christo? Was the statue new and about to be unveiled? I learned the answer much later: The statue had been grubby and shabby from weathering and instead of being polished up, it had been painted but so garishly and awfully that it was an embarrassment, so it was wrapped up in fabric until somebody had the notion (and the funding) to do something about it!

Mike drove through town and then along the coast, where we caught occasional glimpses of the sea through gaps between the houses. We passed a nice-looking hotel and restaurant pained in warm orange and continued along the sandy and bumpy dirt road until we stopped in front of a huge gate with an emblem on it. Mike hooted and the gate was opened by a smartly uniformed security man. I remarked that Mike must be well known, he grinned and explained that Landcruisers were always let in. We were welcomed very pleasantly by a young man named Dave and a scrum of four tail-wagging and slobbery dogs, three friendly mutts of indeterminate breed and a beautiful ridgeback. As Dave went to check on something or other, Mike explained that this outfit belonged to his friend Derek, whom we were going to meet once we reached Niassa Game Reserve. We would determine how and when we got there by contacting Derek on the radio either at 6 PM or at 6 AM the next morning. For now, Dave was finding out where we could stay the night.

Dave came back and said we should stay in Derek’s house and called for somebody who brought the key. The dogs tagged along bounding and barking when we drove down the sandy track to the end and through a gate in a reed fence. Mike parked the truck and we climbed out creaking and sore and grumbling. But the sea air was wonderful and the house lovely, cool, welcoming and comfortable and what was best, right next to the beach. We dragged our bags inside and put the kettle on for tea before unpacking everything off the bed of the truck and stacking it under a tarpaulin in Derek’s car port. Mike explained that we would need the truck to go out to dinner that evening and thus could not leave anything on the back. By the time we’d finished we were covered in dust from the road and extremely grubby. The sun was sinking fast. Mike went off to chat with some acquaintances whilst I kicked off my sandals and strolled down to the beach. The water was amazing, clear and bright and warm as a bath. I hadn’t gone far when the whole scrum of dogs came tearing after me, racing past me, pelting me with wet sand and water. What fun to be out walking after a long day in the car. Careful not to miss the time I’d agreed to meet Mike back at the house, I strolled along, watching the dogs trying to dig crabs out of the sand and laughing at their antics.

Back at the house, we showered and changed into our best clothing, we were in a real town after all, and Mike had no other clean clothes left so he said I’d jolly well better match up! We drove to the orange hotel with the lovely-looking restaurant and found a table as far away from the large flat-screen TVs as possible. We ordered and were amazed that our food arrived very fast. And it was absolutely delicious, juicy prawns and succulent fish very well seasoned. The lady who ran the restaurant turned out to have lived in Switzerland for a while and was happy to practice her German and English with us. We were both tired, though, Mike obviously from driving such a long distance and me less obviously from doing nothing, so we didn’t stay long. When we got back to the house, I crawled into my sleeping bag and listened to the surf for a while before falling fast asleep.

Our young porter was back with us by 6.30 AM and had a bite of breakfast with us before we all got ready to leave. Ofelio grabbed my pack without being asked for which I was very grateful. For a short while we followed the same path that we had taken the previous day. Then Ofelio guided us off the main path and onto a tiny trail through grass that was taller than all of us. After a minute or so we were drenched with dew but by now the sun was well up and the exercise was additionally warming. For a short while we were walking downhill through the tall grass, then uphill again through dense forest with occasional clearings where derelict huts stood in the middle of tiny unkempt patches of gardens. Here Ofelio would stop and give his son a few low-pitched orders. The two of them then searched the garden for anything edible, mostly they came away with tiny, vicious-looking bright red chilis and something that resembled and smelled like spring onions. They wrapped their finds carefully in big leaves and we continued on our way.

It had seemed to me the previous day that we’d walked downhill almost as much as up which was one of the reasons I had been so embarrassed about the gasping fits and the cramps. So when we climbed steeply uphill through forest and small clearings for quite a while, I thought my impression had been correct. Climbing was much easier for me on this day, which was a great relief. When we reached the apex of the climb, it only got more difficult, however. What followed was what felt like unremitting kilometres of walking and slithering steeply downhill, partly on red mud, partly on wet grass and partly on black, loose compost. The muscles that had been abused the previous day protested sharply but to no avail, this had to be done. When the forest ended and cultivated land began, we encountered Ofelio’s family. They were clearing fields and obviously had no problems whatsoever with the terrain. The children scampered up and down the steep hillside like little mountain goats and laughed at my ungainly, tentative gait. That was bad enough but I walked even more cautiously then. Landing on my behind would have been far more embarrassing! I’d applied sunscreen before leaving camp, so by the time the ground started to level out slowly, my legs were dark grey with dust-stuck-to-sunscreen up to the knees and my brown shoes weren’t brown any more. After some more downhill-sliding, we reached Ofelio’s house, by this time the whole family was in tow, two wives and a whole flock of children. Mike and I commented to one another on the fact that the kids obviously weren’t going to school, which we felt was strange in such a socialist country, whilst Ofelio offered us a seat on some wooden stools and the whole family went to wash and change into nice clothes for a photo. I took a few pictures, then we continued on further downhill, then onto the path we had taken the previous day. After another quite steep incline, we found ourselves back on the road and soon we were back at our “garage” and reunited with the LandCruiser.

We chatted politely for a while with Ofelio and his sons who had accompanied us and with the car guards. Mike paid them all the agreed sums, then they began to drift away, leaving us to ourselves. Mike reorganised some equipment while I made some sandwiches for lunch with the tailgate of the truck as a table. Whilst munching and sipping some much-needed tea with lots of sugar, we re-packed our bags and the truck. We both wandered off in opposite directions into the dense tea-bush for a moment. On my return, I found a weird fruit on the ground, shapeless, bright green and knobbly, quite close to our “garage”. When I asked Mike what it was, he burst out laughing and explained that it was a Jak-Fruit. I had only read about this fruit in Gerald Durrel’s “Golden Bats and Pink Pigeons” where he spends quite a lot of time writing about its overpoweringly awful smell. Mike said that there were different varieties and that these probably were a long way from being ripe as well.

It was time to leave after our adventure at Mt. Mabu. We climbed into the truck, both wincing as strained muscles complained. Poor Mike had to drive a long way, lucky me, I only had to navigate. Mike said he wanted to take the route northward around the mountain to see whether it was in any better condition than the road we had come on. After stopping at the tea estate to find somebody with a key to the boom gate, and giving a lift to a few guys who wanted to go to the next village, we were on our way. The route Mike had chosen took us through many small villages, surrounded by tiny fields of cassava and maize. Chickens dashed across the road and children waved, shouting greetings in their high-pitched voices. Many small roadside stalls sold cooking oil, honey, boiling hot coca cola, bright clothing, chewing gum … anything but bread which we would have liked to buy because we were both ravenous after about an hour and a half on the road.

Mike concentrated on the road condition and his verdict wasn’t good. At the moment the road was fine, but it consisted of red soil and come the rains it was a potential quagmire. After about three hours of driving we reached our “favourite” town, Mocuba. We both looked at the time and at the map and decided it was enough for the day. It was 4 PM and the next town far away. We decided to stay in “our” hotel and rather get an early start the next morning. At least, we grinned at each other, today was Tuesday and thus not a “disco night” so we had a good chance for some sleep. We both jumped out of the vehicle and muttered some rather unprintable expressions under our breaths when we landed and tried to get our legs to move again.

The receptionist seemed very glad to see us back even though we were looking rather more dishevelled than on our previous visit. Mike insisted on a room with hot water this time, the receptionist nodded earnestly and promised to upgrade us to room No 2 that always had lots of very hot water “agua muito quente”. We dragged ourselves and our bags up to the room, then Mike went to fill up with fuel and buy some bread, giving me a chance to get a shower. And I was very much looking forward to that! I peeled my embarrassingly grubby self out of the even grubbier clothes and prepared for the onslaught of “muito quente” only to receive a mere trickle of about three drops per minute on my head. I fiddled around but there was nothing to be done. Room 2 had no water at all, it seemed … except for the leak under the sink that looked exactly the same as in our previous room 5. There was nothing for it but to climb back into my clothes and go down to explain my predicament to the receptionist. He listened patiently and agreed to come and see to the problem in a few minutes.

Thus when Mike returned, I was still very grubby and waiting for the chap to arrive. Meanwhile we opened the windows and at that moment loud music battered our eardrums. “Alejandro!” bellowed Lady Gaga … And we looked at each other rolling our eyes, hoping the disco would shut up early as it was a weekday. The receptionist who arrived at that moment, looking as if he would collapse under the weight of a huge monkey wrench, brought us the good news that the water would now be working “muito agua, muito quente”, but deprived us of the illusion that the music would stop any time soon. Ofelio’s kids hadn’t been in school, not because they didn’t go at all but because it was a holiday! “Dia da Vitoria” Another ear-splitting night was in store for us. This time, the disco did in fact shut up quite early, but the patrons of the takeaway that operated out of the hotel liked loud music and parked their cars on the corner with all doors open and the stereos at full blast.

By the time we’d had a good dinner of roast chicken and a few sweet and fizzy drinks, we were able to see the funny side of it. We read our books for a while and then slept in spite of the noise, we were completely exhausted.

By 6.15 we were on our way at a brisk pace, walking down the road and then turning off to travel in amongst tiny cassava, pumpkin and maize fields. Most people seemed very amused to see our little caravan passing, they giggled and joked with Ofelio and the boy whilst staring at us.

As long as we were wandering through the fields and along quite well-defined paths I was fine, but then we started on some steep ascents through thick bush and forest. I very quickly realised that I was not ever going to last 7 hours at that pace and with about 12 kgs of pack on my back. On the steep parts I panted a lot and had to stop a few times which I thought was very embarrassing. After 2,5 hours I gave up and Mike asked Ofelio to carry my pack. Originally he had said that he won’t carry anything but now he gave in with good grace and I felt a lot better after that. All the same, after 3,5 hours I had to ask for a stop because my left calf was siezing up in cramps. Again very embarrassing. I added a packet of rehydration salts to my bottle of water and drank that. After about 20 minutes we carried on and I had no more difficulties from then on.

We reached the base camp after almost exactly 4 hours of walking which corresponded with Mike’s previous information. However, we soon found out why Ofelio had spoken of seven hours. After we’d made some tea and had a brunch of our trusty peanut butter and jam sandwiches, crackers, cheese and a bit of cucumber (for health as Mike said) Ofelio sent his son home and said he would need 3 hours to get back down the mountain. We agreed on 7 AM for him to be back the following morning.

The base camp was quite a large clearing in thick forest. Tall trees formed a canopy that let only patches of dappled sunlight through to us. The ground was thickly covered in a layer of crisp brown rustly leaves. One had to climb down about 50 metres to get to a small stream where we fetched our water supply.

When we’d finished brunch and pitched our tent, Mike and Ofelio went for another climb up to the 2nd camp. I felt bad about wimping out, but would have felt a lot worse holding Mike back when he needed to get places and see what was needed for the expedition in November. When they were gone, I boiled some river water on the fire so that we would have something to drink along the way back. I had plenty of time so I grabbed a towel, some shower gel and my camera and went pottering down the river looking for a place to have a bath.

The scenery was fascinating: huge trees with creepers all over them, a small tree fern, fungi on dead tree stumps, a small crab sidled away and hid under a log as I scrambled past over the boulders that lay tumbled in the riverbed. A bright red dragonfly perched in a patch of sunlight. Then I found one of my all-time favourites: a kite spider with its red and white patterned, spiky body waiting for prey in the centre of its web.

I had a very refreshing bath in a small sandy pool, the water temperature was just about bearable to me as a confessed cold-wimp, but feeling clean again was well worth it.

When Mike and Ofelio got back after about 2 hours, I was glad that I had stayed behind. Mike said it was very arduous to get to the 2nd camp, a lot of the path had been extremely steep and slippery consisting mostly of mud. They had had to haul themselves up by hanging onto the vegetation and had spent a lot of the return trip sliding back down. The reason why Ofelio was so very necessary to our expedition was not only that he knew the paths but also that he knew where the vicious and massive gin traps were that the local people used to catch bushpigs. He showed me one of the traps at the base camp, they look extremely scary and would probably break a leg if one stepped on a “live” one.

Mike went off to wash and I made us some more tea in the meantime. We wrote up our notes and read a bit. By 4 PM the sun once again disappeared behind the mountain and the air immediately cooled off. Ofelio stoked the fire higher and higher and fetched more wood. Mike and I hauled our fleeces out of our bags and snuggled into them. As long as it was still light, we chopped and prepared dinner together, another delicious concoction of Mikes consisting of rice with tomato, onion, olive and tuna sauce.

When we finished the meal, Mike and Ofelio dicussed what Mike needed to have prepared for the November expedition whilst I took our pots and plates to the river for washing. Whilst I was sanding the rice pot, a small crab sidled out from under a rock beside me and grabbed a grain of rice in a pincer. It guided the morsel to its mouth and mumbled on it until it was gone. I imagined it licking the remails off its pincers. Then it came closer to the pot and knocked on the metal side a few times with its pincers as if it were demanding more! When it realised that there was no more, it trundled off again. Normally I don’t really like washing up, but that was highly amusing and a lovely, peaceful bit of “alone time” after a rather demanding day.

When I got back it was fully dark. I gave Mike a hand with the discussions with our guide and we chatted a little together as well. We were extremely tired and longed to go to bed, but it was still far too early. We had to force ourselves to stay up until 8 PM then we finally slipped into the tent and read for a while longer with our head lamps. It was a cool night but Mike had given me a good self-inflating mattress and my sleeping bag was also quite good, so it was fine. Ofelio slept beside the blazing fire that he kept well stoked all night. I didn’t sleep very well, I suppose there were just too many impressions from a very long day for my mind to process. But there were wood owls calling again to keep me company.