The Crags

Posted on December 1, 2012 by Flattop

I’m in The Crags South Africa. Bloukrans Bridge, just down the road is home to the highest fixed structure bungy jump in the world. Hmm, I’ve jumped the bridge over the Zambezi, but since this is the highest, I guess I’ll have to check it off the list.

The bridge is a concrete structure spanning a gorge with a small river at it’s base. On one side of the bridge I see rolling tree covered foothill mountains, on the other side I can see the Indian Ocean peek between the valley peaks flowing to the beach. The bridge stands 708 ft (216 meter) above the valley floor.

I don a harness for the jump and am sent walking down a catwalk attached underneath the bridge. I think they’ve designed this setup to scare the crap out of people before they even jump. The catwalk while well secured has a mesh floor you can see through as you walk the 100 yards or so to the center. Scarier is the steel mesh is squishy giving the sensation it’s going to give way on each step. This operation is well run and designed for mass numbers. They have up to 250 people a day jump here. There are a dozen workers under the bridge all working in well organized unison and it appears safety is high. From checklist, harnesses, and tethers for everyone, there are backups to everything as well. Within minutes my ankles are tied together and they assist me hopping to the ledge. Like I mentioned the last time I performed this stunt. It has got to be the closest thing one can do to simulate suicide. It’s everything but the splat. One, Two, Three and I jump. The bungee here is attached underneath and on the opposite side from where I jump, so in addition to the recoil it swings in a pendulum back and forth motion. Weeeeeee. I could do this again. Just like the last time, I’ve loved it to death. The only thing I don’t like is hanging upside down for the minute or two waiting for someone to be lowered on a boson chair to lift me back upright. In those few minutes the blood rushes to ones head. Having not liked that it the past I discover instead of looking to the ground if I look at my feet and back to the bridge, the pressure buildup is severely reduced. While I thought this would be my last jump, armed with this new insight, I have no doubt I’ll bungee other top spots as well.

 

Chuck full of adrenaline like I get from jumping out of a plane, I head to Monkeyland and Birds of Eden. Monkeyland is a free range primate sanctuary. All the monkeys here have come from captivity. They live in a protected forest area and we are guided through the forest while loads of monkeys swing from the trees and scurry across the ground. No cages or fences separating them from site. It appears like I’m in the jungle and seeing them in the wild.

Next up for the day I make a stop at Birds of Eden. It’s the largest free flight bird sanctuary/aviary in the world. It must be a day for the highest/biggest/largest things. I wander around in a lush forested area for hours. Sit patiently on a bench and watch as hundreds of birds make their way by, ever so patiently waiting to capture the perfect shot. Ducks, geese, parrots, flamingos, toucans, and I don’t know what other exotic species exist here.

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Mama Tofu

Posted on November 29, 2012 by Flattop

I’ve taken the day to visit a Xhosa village. There are many different African cultures. The Xhosa speak with several different clicking sounds added to some of the words. Mama Tofu is our guide. She’s a 93 year old widow raised the Xhosa way. She is lively full of whit and glows with excitement to show us her home and spend an hour or more explaining the Xhosa customs.

The traditional Xhosa home is comprised of a few round huts, however in modern times most home sites are comprised of a couple traditional round huts and also a simple one or two room concrete block structure.

In their culture the women show their availability by their clothing. Young women that are single and still virgins wear short skirts, not quite mini, but close. Teenage boys when they are coming of age go through an extensive ritual culminating in circumcision as an introduction to manhood. When a man finds a prospective mate he must court and ask her for her love. She has the right to turn him down. If she accepts the boy must pay her family with 18 cows. Many men now days forgo marriage as the price is steep. A single cow cost 6,000 Rand and the average person is only making 70-100 Rand per day. Once women are married their clothing changes to a longer dress.

Once married it is the women’s responsibility to adopt her husbands believes and culture. She is to do what she is told by her man. Women are expected to cook, clean, take care of all the farm chores, support their man, and get pregnant soon after marriage. A typical Xhosa wife will have 10 or more children. If the majority of her kids are girls, it is likely the family will become wealthy from all the cows they receive for their girls hands. Brings a new idea to retirement planning. If the women is not pregnant shortly after marriage it is assumed something is wrong with her and she is put through a very long ritual to assist her spirt in conceiving.

While the men have had to work hard to afford 18 cows for a girls devotion, once he’s married his responsibilities diminish. While his wife does all the work he’s expected to smoke and drink with the other men of the village. Hmm doesn’t sound all that bad, if I didn’t have to live in a hut…. 🙂 Nah, I don’t want all the kids.

If a woman cheats on her husband he is allowed to divorce her while the women is shamed and he takes his 18 cows back from her parents. If a man cheats, nothing is said or done about it. Seems like a life many chauvinistic men would be attracted to.

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Chintsa or Cinsta

Posted on November 29, 2012 by Flattop

I’ve spent a couple 8 & 12 hour days traveling by bus and I’ve arrived in a small surfing beach village of Chintsa. Or is it Cintsa? I guess that depends on which road sign you read or which local you speak with. Both spellings seem to be equally used. I discover the english pronunciation is (sin-sah) but the real pronunciation includes a clicking sound where the H is that I can’t even begin to produce or describe in text.

On the drive from Drakensburg to the Indian Ocean coast, starting in Durban, the mountainous scenery remains quite similar with cliff ledge mountains covered in a fine green grass. As I’ve worked my way south down the coast the mountains gradually turn into rolling hills and the grass begins to be filled by thriving trees and forest. Cinsta is a small village separated by a river. As we drive down a bumpy pot hole filled gravel road the scenery opens to a bay with rolling tree filled hills forming a cove. I’m in Cinsta west and the hostel view is spectacular. The wind is howling an easy 40+ knots. I can see surfers enjoying the sloppy looking swell and kite boarders having a blast in the high winds. While sitting on my room balcony I see a whale in the distance spouting water.

In my first week in South Africa, I’m starting to form the opinion that virtually every South African is exceptionally friendly but clueless at the same time. From my SIM card fiasco, clueless taxi drivers, to a walk down the street and take the first right, (nope 3rd right), or hey it’s obvious walk down the beach and you’ll see everyone on top of the second sand dune. (huh, not visible at all and it takes hiking 3 dunes to find them on the 5th dune), plus many more goofy scenarios.

The wind has been treacherous almost spoiling a superb location. The weather here has surprised me as it’s been all over the map and changes suddenly. It’s summer in South Africa and I expected it to be hot. It has been one moment and 30 minutes later it’ll be 30 degrees cooler followed by an drastic increase an hour later. Shorts one minute and a sweat shirt and jacket the next.

This morning the weather cooperates and I head out for a beach horseback ride. It’s calm sunny and hot. I’m riding Zooruk. The horse farm here is managed by a local that rescues them from around the country. As we approach the beach I feel the heat of the sun beat down on my face as a cool breeze comes off the surf cooling me. The sound of the waves breaking as they crash on the beach is mesmerizing. Zooruk starts out in a slow walk, accelerates to a bouncy trot, then gallop, and into a full canter. I’ve done guided horse rides before and usually it’s horses playing follow the leader with their nose in the horses rear in front. These boys are not into that and I’m loving it that they are each their own, well trained and are responsive. 20121129-221758.jpg20121129-212230.jpg20121129-212208.jpg

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212 Countries

Posted on November 28, 2012 by Flattop

A few days ago while in Joburg, I was fortunate to make a new friend, Anush, a 60 years young women from Massachusetts at the hostel. She’s been solo traveling the world for decades and has thus far visited 212 countries. I’m envious. She’s easily one of the more traveled people in the world. Just like her, my goal is to one day visit every country in the world. She is a member of the Travelers Century Club, which I blogged about in my Dream Profession post. Meeting her has brought the reality of my dream racing back.

When I last looked at the TCC they had 319 countries but the world has changed and they now count 321 countries. For example Sudan is now two separate countries. Oh, goodie me, even more places to visit.

TCC has changed their definition a bit as to what they consider a visit. Now they count a stop on a layover. While I personally don’t think that means really visiting a country for the purpose of my count I will include Senegal as my flight to South Africa had a one hour layover on the tarmac of Dakar. So to date I’ve had the privilege of being to 50 countries.

While my number seems large to some, I know how those who have visited less must feel. I spent the night enthralled with Anush’s stories of places I’ve barely heard of yet know how to pronounce. I realize, I don’t know them just like many don’t recognize the far off places I’ve visited. It’s humbling and exciting at the same time.

Additionally inspiring my travel spirit, I’ve meet two others in the past few days that are on a 12 month around the world trek as I had originally set out. The first a single German man was on his first week and the other was a british couple that has been traveling a couple months. I sooooo want to finish not only Africa but the 9 months I didn’t get to. As I’m typing this I just started a conversation with school teacher from San Francisco that is on a six month around the world trip and he’s on his first week.

I’m still brainstorming what I could do to somehow create an income while traveling six months of the year while maintaining a home and life in Tampa the rest of the year. Speaking with Anush brought to light the cost and difficulty in reaching the more obscure locations in the world.

So, what could I do that would be worth you and several thousand others giving me $100 a year? While a hundred bucks is not a lot of money I’m stumped on ideas of what value I could provide to attract enough folks willing to part with a little each year.

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Drakensburg and Tugela Falls

Posted on November 27, 2012 by Flattop

I’ve spent the last few days in an area of Northern Drakensburg (Dragon’s Mountains) known as the Amphitheater, due to the shape and look of the mountains in the area, forming a natural amphitheater. The area is sparsely populated scattered with glistening lakes, lush green grassy meadows, sprouting with wild flowers, and a mountainous wall in the distance which separates South Africa from the Kingdom of Lesotho. These mountains also have fine grass which appears like moss from a distance covering everywhere you see.

I’m setting out for a 9 mile hike to Tugela Falls, the second highest waterfalls in the world. I start at around 7500 ft above sea level and am ascending to a little over 10,000 ft. It’s apparent quickly the low living close to the sea lubber I am that I’m not accustomed to the thin altitude air. I’m stoked as my short hike the day before while in Lesotho, I had zero hip pain and I’m hoping for the same thing today.

The path starts out easy, paved, then turns to small rocks underfoot. I zigzag up the mountain side while the shun shines bright a brisk breeze chills my face as sweat forms down my back. The views once again are breathtaking. Green as far as the eye can see. Tons of thin grass with virtually no trees and an occasional rock outcropping protruding through the surrounding grass. We come to a crevasse between to peaks and the path doesn’t look passable, however the guide sets us up the steep climb over jagged boulders intermixed with loose rocks. I have to make sure I have a firm footing lest I send an avalanche of rocks bouncing over the boulders down the sloop impaling a hiker below. An hour later I summit the top exhausted not from the physical stair stepper exercise but from the lack of air, my chest heaving and heart pounding happy to rest and catch my breath.

I’m now a little over 10,000 ft and on one side of the mesa plateau which I just ascended it’s green, clear and I can see for miles. On the other side there is a steep cliff which drops over a mile straight down, however I can’t see a thing. There is a strong upwind current of air coming vertically up this side of the mountains cliff edge creating a wall of smoke which wisp the cloud moisture straight up forming a wall of foggy wetness. As the vapor rises it begins to swirl in eddies above forming all sort of cloud shapes. I’m disappointed as I hear the view is quite dramatic on this side of the mountain.

We follow the foggy cliff edge over green grassy pastures of moist damp grass and I feel like I’m on the movie set of Lord of the Rings. We get to the spring fed stream of Tugela Falls and sadly I only hear the falls as they pour over the edge into a cloud filled abyss.

On the return route, I realize, I’ve either over done it with two days of hiking and/or the steep decline my hip starts bothering me with every step. As I step down thigh muscles, buttocks, and all the muscles around my pelvis tense and with it as I braise myself acute point pain can be felt. rrrrrr, another reminder of why I’m hear although I’m not going to let it stop me from hiking in such wondrous beauty.

The alternate return route down the mountain side brings us to a cliff edge where a chain rope ladder dangles over the edge. This isn’t for the faint of heart who have lack of appreciation for height (those scared of heights). I love it, as these are the activities which get my spirit racing. There are no safety lines and it’s all up to your own footing and grip to make your way down the ladder as it wobbles under your weight ever so slightly swaying against the rocky cliff ledge.

Down the chain ladders we make our way down the simple cliff ledge path towards our vehicle. Mother nature decided to send us a sudden sign of how quickly things can change in the mountains. We’re only 20 minutes from the truck and the thick fog from the other side of the mountain swarms around us, the wind picks up to 40+ knots, the temperature suddenly drops 30-40 or more degrees. It’s now friged. The windchill is easily below freezing and we can only see a couple feet of path. As we make it to the vehicle ice crystals have formed in everyone’s hair from the fogs moisture. I’m happy this didn’t happen on the way up and that it only occurred towards the end.

All in all it’s been a good day and I really enjoyed the hike even though I didn’t get to see the waterfall. The high wind cold foggy ending was kinda fun as I thaw my hands in the truck realizing how someone could easily get lost, stuck, or worse in a mountain environment. I’m disappointed my hip bothered me (at a tolerable level) on the decent. My spirit is so willing yet the physical isn’t cooperating. I vow to still hike again. I’ll only try one day next time.

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