Once I relocated to my second bed and breakfast in Upington, I proceeded to fill my two day furlough with mundaneties like having Aslan's tires and brakes checked out, the exhaust pipe welded, and his interior washed. It was a tedious errand indeed, but it was necessary and allowed me to both feel more confident in the further technological success of our journey and appreciate a clean car once again, after all traces of Namibian desert sand were vacuumed away. In the time between such errands, I entertained myself with Karamazov (which has really started picking up), watching TV (the Discovery channel, to justify my vegetation), and eating fish and chips (greasy enough to be very enjoyable). Soon, though, Saturday morning arrived and after a two hour delay in arriving, Toukam was sitting beside me and we were on our brisk way to our next stop- Kimberley.
Aslan Under the Knife
The Bed and Breakfast
Recovering from the disappointment of facing such precipitation we arrived in Kimberley, which is the provincial capitol of the Northern Cape and former diamond center of Africa and the World. It was here that Cecil Rhodes bought up all the diamond mines in the area and made the largest diamond company the world had ever seen, which cornered 90% of the global diamond market. A "living" testament to the industry is found in what is literally called "The Big Hole". Though quite a humorous title, this "Big Hole" is what remains from a huge diamond mine- a 200 meter deep opening in the earth that was hand dug by African miners who frequently perished in the attempt.
Though Toukam and I enjoyed making fun of the hilariously simple name for the landmark, the exhibit and movie that accompanied it was really quite fascinating and we both were adequately diverted by its information. To get to the exhibit area, though, we had to go into an elevator that, though it only descended one floor, was accompanied by sounds of mining and explosions as it went down, which apparently warranted the warnings of "Don't Run!" Once the elevator opened, we were faced with a mini underground replica of a mine shaft, which then opened up to the main exhibition hall, which even housed some real diamonds protected by an armed guard.
Prior to visiting the Big Hole, though, Toukam and I had spent some time exploring the surprisingly large and high quality art gallery in Kimberley's civic center. Though we were the only patrons we saw during our visit, the curators were an enthusiastic bunch who chatted with us about the art, which ranged from tribal bowls and old furniture to marble statues and political pop art. In our brief visit we were stuck by the outstanding range of art that this country has been host to in the past and will in the future. We gladly payed our 5 rand entrance fee and bid our farewells to the curators.
Back at the hostel, we got to know Juliet, a Texas A&M PhD student who was travelling around South Africa to photograph thousands of fossils of ancient antelopes to standardize their classification. As achingly interesting as that sounds, we all went to a neighboring bar, where we watched a bit of a New Zealand vs South Africa rugby game and got to know each other. She was nice company, and it saddened us to see how lonely she was out there in Kimberley, though her near departure was sure to help things. The game was interesting, but soon hunger was knocking on our consciousness and we walked to Mario's, a local Italian food place where we had a very nice dinner of pasta, prawns, and snails.
Thankful that the rain had ceased, Toukam and I ventured back to Greatbatch Backpackers, an offshoot of a bed and breakfast that provided a somewhat disappointing end to our first day. The hostel, though cheap, was of dubious quality. The room itself was crammed with ten beds and the rubber floors seemed to collect water from outside. The showers and toilets, which were accessible by a tiny alley narrower than my shoulders, were separated from each other only by one sheet of corrugated tin. On top of all those grievances, a bunch of African laborers were staying there as well and proceeded to keep us up with load music and drunken travel recommendations. All in all, though, Kimberley was pleasant and we awoke acceptably refreshed and ready to continue our trek.
It was with great joy that we greeted the cloudless sky and boarded our vehicle on Sunday. Our destination was Lesotho, but hundreds of kilometers stood in our way. Refusing to be fazed, Toukam guided me out of Kimberley and onwards towards Bloemfontein, the very Africaans capital of the more Africaans Free State province. The scenery on the way was enjoyable, but the truly refreshing aspect of the drive was in Bloemfontein, where we got out and took some photos of the unexpectedly nice architecture of the city center. We briefly talked with some Africaaner tourists and lamented the dirty status of a public square before leaving the city, though not without of navigational struggles.
Before we could get to the expanses of farmland that proceeded crossing the border to Lesotho we got to drive through a large township, which was as sobering an experience as ever. It never seems to be a comfortable sight- seeing so many people in abject poverty. I guess that's a good thing, that desensitivity doesn't kick in too quickly.
Before we knew it we were driving up to the South African departure station, where after a confusing parking situation we got our passports stamped and proceeded to the Lesotho border crossing, which proved a little more traumatic. After getting our stamps, the border official told us that the road tax was 4,000 Rand, a price of about 500 US dollars. Completely taken aback by such a large sum being requested, we argued for a little and eventually the official just asked for 4 rand, about 50 cents. Confused by the whole situation, we were only boggled more when we later found out that other people were charged 24 rand.
It was immediately apparent to us that Lesotho was a poverty-riddled country. From the pothole-filled roads to the ubiquitous presence of unheated shacks as houses, images of desperation and depletion were everywhere. It was fascinating to drive though so many small villages and see the way the people lived, though it definitely pulled on the heartstrings. Eventually after about 70 km of road that wound through hills and valleys, we arrived at Paradise Gate, a lookout point at the crest of a mountain ridge that displayed the breathtaking mountain views that we would enjoy for the rest of the day.
From the Gate, which was emblazoned with the quote "Pause, Wayfarer, and witnesses the Gateway to Paradise," we drove to Malealea Lodge, our accommodation for the night. It's a great compound, complete with peacocks, chickens, and ponies, and the room that they gave us seemed quite comfortable. When we drove in, we were greeted by a large group of Dutch tourists sitting around the campfire trying to warm themselves and the receptionist, who suggested that we do a horse ride around the mountains. Having heard that this was the only way to really appreciate Lesotho, we jumped at the opportunity.
Once the horses were all saddled up our guide, Thato, took us on a 2 hour journey during which he told us copious amounts of information about Lesotho and the local area and showed us even more breathtaking scenery. Unfortunately the photos of the scenery and of my horse, Taylor, are on Toukam's camera and I won't be able to upload them until later. Hopefully you can paint an adequate mental picture.
Returning to the lodge with sore legs and a new appreciation for Lesotho, we soon found ourselves enjoying the native music of the Malealea City Chorus, which consisted of about 30 villagers who sang beautifully. So impressed were we by the music that we bought the CD and have enjoyed the music while driving. Soon, though, it was time for dinner and after sitting down as close to the fire as possible we were joined by a French couple, who proved to be hilarious and engaging as they told of their adventures in a car that wouldn't go into first gear. As the night got darker and the air colder, Toukam and I decided to retire and slept well in our beds after such a long and adventurous cross-border day.
No comments:
Post a Comment