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Sat May 24 2003 (Durban to Drakensberg)
I was up at 7.30 to walk the short distance to the Budget rental office, which turned out to be slightly dodgier than I'd expected, quite a few shifty characters hanging around. When I was there I realised I'd forgot to bring my driving license, but anyway the booking had been made for Durban airport, there were no spare cars here, so I was in the wrong place. I didn't fancy repeating the tricky walk so ordered a Mozzie to nip me back to the hotel and wait whilst I collected my stuff and said a quick goodbye to the girls. Over at the airport I collected a nice Nissan Almera with air-con, decent stereo, power steering and lots more space. Also, this car didn't have any females in it, so was completely tidy.
I made good progress up the N3 motorway, which has several tolls of varying cost, managed to drive through a speed trap within the limit (first time for everything) and met Rob at a petrol station in the small town of Winterton. I followed him over to a place he and 5 others have bought, right in the middle of the Drakensberg mountains. This place is stunning, set in a beautiful grassland valley, underneath impressive looking peaks with Zulu hamlets scattered around. The two buildings are very comfortable with kitchen, bathroom and several bedrooms. A third building is under construction at the moment.
We dumped our stuff and headed out in Rob's bakkie (pronounced 'buckie'), a high-clearance 4 wheel-drive pick-up style vehicle. Rob was judging the wind conditions to work out which of the local peaks would be best for launching the paraglider from. There was a chance I could fly tandem with Rob (he would fly and I would sit and watch the world go by), so I phoned my insurance company to extend cover just in case. We stopped at a trading post in a village, which was a pretty big shop with hardly anything to buy. I got some biscuits, Rob a bottle of Coke and I managed to convince the guys sat outside that I was Owen's brother.
We struck out from the tarred road on a dirt track through Zulu hamlets scattered across the valley floor. Cows and goats lurked at the side of the road in long grass and threw themselves out in front of the car at the last minute, whilst the local kids ran alongside the car and everyone we saw gave a smile and waved. I drove the last section through the woods and had a little go at 4WD when we hit some particularly deep sand.
We arrived at the top of the hill, which contained a small house and an antenna of some sort. The view was spectacular, the berg running off in all directions for hundreds of km. Rob decided to take his solo chute up first to check conditions, then come back for the tandem if everything was OK. He launched, got straight into a thermal and shot up vertically by around 1500m towards cloud base, tracked all the way by an over-inquisitive Cape vulture. He was gone for a while so I had a wander around the hill in the blazing sunshine and listened to a Zulu CD that was in the car.
Rob made his way back down to just above the hill but was concerned by the erratic wind conditions and shouted that he was going to land down in the valley. I jumped in the bakkie, waved to the occupant of the house who had come outside, and drove back down through the woods with the Zulu CD for company. Down at the bottom I received a text message to say Rob was on the main track and found him a few minutes later. An official looking bloke had been waving frantically to him to land, so he'd gone in the opposite direction (you should have a license to enter the woods).
We made our way back through the villages, I had a couple of biscuits left so gave them to a little girl to share with her friends. She said "thankyou" very politely, then turned and ran up the hill as fast as possible with her friends in hot pursuit. Rob told me a couple of stories about the time he spent working in the Okavango Delta in Northern Botswana. He used to give lifts to locals if there was space in the bakkie. Once he stopped to pick-up a kid, they gave a signal, then loads of the little buggers came running out of the bush and jumped on the back. Another time he was with an English couple who were cycling the length of Africa. They picked up some locals and the couple offered some of the bread they had. In this part of the world it is considered rude to refuse a gift, so they tried to grab the whole thing and it degenerated into a wrestling match between the confused couple and the equally confused locals. There was also a bit of a character (a white Botswanan) who lived in the area and was something of an eccentric. One time he was offered a ride out to Victoria Falls and back in a plane. He was only wearing a pair of shorts and didn't have a passport, but it shouldn't have been an issue as he was staying on the plane and coming straight back. On the way, the plane developed a problem and had to make a forced landing in Zimbabwe. The guy spent a week in and around the plane avoiding the authorities before it was fixed and he could get back to Botswana.
We went to a really smart shop and bar complex at the side of the road for beers, lamb burger and caramel cake, had a free sample of wine, then headed back to the lodge. Rob flaked pretty early and I listened to a local radio station whilst I caught up with the diary.
Photos from today