The main highway was as potholed as ever, so we took our time as we explored scenic routes that took us through poverty-stricken towns and fist-clenchingly close calls with animals of all types. In some of the towns, we saw Chinese owned stores, which reminded us of our guides words the previous day, when he told us how the Chinese have build clothing factories all around Lesotho, which pay nearly nothing and work the people to the bone. It is so sad to see such advantage-taking going on, but interesting to see how far the reaches of Chinese industry go.
After an hour or two of driving, we were faced with the capitol, Maseru, which was essentially a huge town, with the same huts and poor roads, but on a huge scale. Declining to explore (get lost in) the city center, we bypassed the most crowded bits and continued on the Lesotho highway, which pretty much skirts the border with South Africa.
We rolled over hills and valleys while admiring the continued views of large snow capped mountains and colorfully dressed locals. Interestingly, we were stopped at a police checkpoint, where they inspected my documentation and waved me through- I guess there's a problem with license-less drivers in Lesotho. It was only another hour or so before we reached the quiet border post, which we went through without hindrance and made our way to Fouriesburg, a border town where we hoped to find lunch.
Our first attempt, the Windmill Cafe, was closed, but after consulting a French-speaking Portuguese shop owner, we got to a local hotel where Toukam got a cheeseburger that required more of a separation between "cheese" and "burger", because it was simply a burger with a cold slab of cheese on top. It was a pleasant lunch and we were soon on our way to our home for the night- Clarens.
The drive to Clarens was short but incredibly scenic, and when we arrived we were faced with a multitude of art shops, which ranged from trendy to aboriginal. Our browsing took up some time, and we eventually got some home made biltong (South African beef jerky) and enjoyed its salty flavors as we continued. Without finding anything worth buying, we began our search for our accommodation for the night: Clarens Inn.
After a couple passes on a dirt road, we came upon the "inn", which was much more like an abandoned military compound in appearance. Finding the manager out back chopping some trees town, we got ourselves sorted out in our mildly smelly dorm room. Our initial suspicions about the place were soon assuaged as we got to know Kevin and Andre, the two people running the place. They were both incredibly nice and hospitable, attributes that were made clear as they arranged a braii (BBQ) with the guests and built a huge bonfire for our temperature needs. Toukam and I accompanied Kevin to the butcher, where we picked out the evening's grub and listened to Kevin's horror stories from living in JoBurg. Back at the hostel, the fire was in full swing and Kevin took it upon himself to cook all of the food himself, much to our pleasure.
With all the hard stuff taken care of, we sat around the fire sipping the complimentary sherry and meeting our fellow guests, who included a grad student couple from Duke who were studying liberal arts (they wouldn't say anything more specific), a woman whose family was from Zimbabwe but was driven to live in Mozambique, and a woman from Clarens who was friends with Kevin and Andre. We had some great conversation, made better by Andre's skillful playing of a didgeridoo and Nate and Nathalia's (the couple from Duke) tales of two wheel drive mishaps in both South Africa and Swaziland.
As it got late, Toukam and I did a payphone run and retired to bed. Knowing we wanted to get to JoBurg as early as possible, we awoke before dawn, quickly showered, and got on the road. Before getting to the capitol, though, we drove through Golden Gate Park, one of the few national parks in existence because of natural beauty instead of wildlife. It was a very pleasant drive and we enjoyed all the views we had of the cliffs as we twisted and turned down the road trying not to be blinded by the new sun.
Before long we were on the fast moving toll road that would take us into the heart of JoBurg. It took about 3 hours to get to the city, and the drive was pretty boring. Upon arrival, Toukam nearly perfectly directed us to the Apartheid Museum, which was in the south of the city. We spent about 4 hours at the museum, which was incredible and featured a large special exhibit on the life and accomplishments of Nelson Mandela. Perhaps the most poignant part of the museum was its entrance, which had separate doors for whites and blacks- your race was assigned by the ticketer. As Toukam and I entered in separate doors (He was white, I was black), we started the process of learning a ton about life in South Africa when the government did its best to separate the different races in every way possible. In addition to its educational value, the museum had a profound impact, and I left feeling a lot more informed and emotionally connected to this country.
With the fear of carjacking and mugging in our hearts, we made a beeline to Sandton, a very wealthy northern suburb where Brian, Toukam's friend, lives. Before meeting up with Brian, though we returned my rental satellite phone, which was a process fraught with incompetence. Soon after getting the phone off my hands Brian had arrived and he and Toukam were soon sharing stories from their time together in Cameroonian boarding school. He decided to take us on a tour of that part of JoBurg in his new red BMW, blasting French pop music the whole way.
The first stop was Mandela Square, the location of a huge upscale mall and one of the best hotels in JoBurg. We had a quick lunch there before we had a whirlwind tour of Hyde Park, the most exclusive and expensive of JoBurg's suburbs. There we found huge houses that were surrounded by gigantic walls of more than 20 feet with electrified tops and guards posted at every entrance. It was like exploring a compound of modern day castles, where defense was the main priority.
We relaxed at Brian's bachelor pad and eventually decided to get back on the road before rush hour got too bad. We were staying in Pretoria, so it was about a two hour drive north through construction-hindered roads before we got to the city, but had not the faintest idea of how to get to the hostel. As the sun set, we found that the directions that the hostel people were giving us were completely wrong resulting in about half an hour of running around before getting to the hostel, which was nothing more than a large house run by some African teenagers. The price was right and after unpacking we went to a nearby square to get dinner. We found out later that we ate in the college nightlife center of the city, which explained the crowded bars on a Tuesday night. Our Italian food was filling and we topped it off with an internet cafe visit.
It wasn't long after we got a parking spot back at the hostel that we were falling asleep while trying to carry on a conversation with an extremely talkative Dutch traveller. He had arrived in Swaziland and was making his way to Cape Town by Baz Bus, an Australian hop on hop off service around South Africa, where he would go on an overland tour through southern Africa, much like the one I mentioned in my first post. Finally he decided to cease his talking and we were quickly asleep, though our initial slumber was interrupted by more roommates coming in later.
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