Africa Cafe

By Faruk Budak

This is the story of a Turkish travelers solo journey across Africa, from Cape Town in the south to Cairo in the north. In his second book, a follow-up to Nine Gates of Asia, Faruk Budak tells of his eight-month adventure. Sometimes he rides on the back of a pickup truck or travels in a packed, run-down bus, and sometimes he walks along the dusty roads of Africa. Africa Caf contains valuable information about each step in this journey that includes visiting the magnificent UNESCO World Heritage Sites, and structures; smelling the magical spice aromas of Zanzibar; eating tropical foods; going on safaris on the plains of Masai Mara and Serengeti National Park; walking the mysterious streets of Lamu, Africas Kathmandu; contemplating Egypts pyramids; and shopping in sukhs in Syria and Jordan. Budak experienced the Dark Continents dark poverty along with its generosity, beauty, and enchantment. He experienced the absurdity of borders on a continent where beauty and ugliness, good and bad coexist. Dreams are the only guide along this breathtaking journey. In Africa, dreams meet reality, earthly travel merges with the spirits inner journey, and the mission is completed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jun 2, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496978752

Faruk Budak

Dr. Faruk BUDAK is the first Turkish backpacker completing the famous “Cape to Cairo” road which means from Cape Town in South Africa to Cairo in Egypt, Middle East by land as a solo traveler and “role model” for most Turkish backpackers. He was on a long journey lasting almost 15 months away from home in 22 countries of Asia and Africa including India, Nepal, Burma, Lao, Cambodia, Thailand Malaysia, Singapore, Indonesia, South Africa, Lesotho, Swaziland, Mozambique, Zimbabwe, Malawi, Tanzania, Kenya, Ethiopia, Sudan, Egypt, Jordan and Syria in Asia and Africa as a backpacker. He is leading some special tours to specific off-the-beaten-track destinations in Asia and Africa, mostly to indigenous tribes and African safaris, and writes for some Turkish monthly travel magazines. He is also a retired army colonel having in Bachelor of Science in Civil Engineering (CE), Master of Science degree in CE and PhD Degree in Industrial Engineering. He gave different engineering courses in graduate and postgraduate programs of state universities in 1990s and 2000s. He is the owner of a project management consulting firm (FABE) and travel company (29 TRAVEL). He currently lives in Istanbul, Turkey. www.FarukBudak.com

Book preview

© 2014 Faruk Budak. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 05/29/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4969-7874-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-7876-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-7875-2 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or

links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may

no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those

of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher,

and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Part 1     Asian Leg of the Journey

Part 2     South Africa and Lesotho

Part 3     Swaziland

Part 4     Mozambique

Part 5     Zimbabwe

Part 6     Malawi

Part 7     Tanzania

Part 8     Kenya

Part 9     Ethiopia

Part 10   Sudan

Part 11   Egypt

Part 12   Jordan

Part 13   Syria

Part 14   Final words

I then see three young Maasai men coming toward us carrying spears. Most Maasai men and women shave their heads, but these men have long braided hair. They wear necklaces and other ornaments made from multicolored beads and, most interestingly, have partially painted their bodies and faces red. They also wear red cloths tied around their shoulders and draping to their waists. They have a confident, calm, and proud demeanor and don’t seem to be bothered that we’re in their land, as they pass without a greeting or a word.

Peter tells me that these moran, or warriors, wander from village to village for five or six years, an important phase in Maasai men’s lives.

Lying in my sleeping bag, I think back to the moran I saw today. A wandering warrior. Their existence seems to be a psychological defense in this place where tribal wars abound and wild animals roam. My lips curl into a smile when I remember that I’m a wanderer who has ended his warrior days.

PREFACE

My trip covering twenty-two countries in Asia and Africa ended, fourteen months and twenty-two days after it started, without incident in Istanbul. A famous film director once said, I shot the film in my head, now I need to shoot it for others. With this saying in mind, I’ve decided that it is now time for me to share my journey with others. This book on the Africa leg of my journey is the product of endless days’ and nights’ endeavors.

I had started my journey with the principle of selfless service, or doing things without expecting any return and wanted to share the journey with the Turkish public while en route, so I thought of cost-free ways to do this. It was at Amma’s ashram where I learned the English words for what I was thinking. The idea of sharing my experiences in letters from the road on a website (www.FarukBudak.com) came up, but that would involve a laptop, digital camera, and other equipment, which would make for both an expensive as well as heavy load to carry en route, but my desire to share my journey helped me overcome all my concerns.

One of my aims during this journey was to visit all the sites on the UNESCO World Heritage list in each of the countries I visited. There are more than twenty such sites just in India, and along with all the other sites I wanted to see, this meant a fast-paced seven weeks in India. In the almost fifteen months of my trip, I traveled from one city to another on average every 2.4 days.

Why did I take on this project?

I mostly wanted to travel to meet people of different cultures, a product of my wandering spirit, but later I also wanted to provide a response to the question, why are there no Turks among the explorers today? This was a desire to be a role model to Turkish youth, showing them that they can take long trips on small budgets and that they can have the courage to leave their comfort zones. I wanted to demonstrate that anything is within reach not with money but with courage and self-confidence and that these incredible powers are within them. I wanted to be the catalyst of awareness of this treasure.

One question that I most frequently encountered during and after the trip was whether I had a sponsor. No, this trip did not have any sponsors, as having a small budget was so important. The idea of finding a sponsor never entered my mind.

Last, I this was a physical as well as a magnificent spiritual journey, and I didn’t write this book alone. Yes, I was by myself on the trip, and I lived and experienced everything, but I was never alone. God and his angels were my constant companions. I believe some of their messages come to us through dreams, so I’ve included the ones that guided me before and during the journey in this book.

Hoping to meet you in a new location,

With love,

Faruk Budak

PART 1

Asian Leg of the Journey

Life is a journey, not a guided tour.

My plan was to head east from Turkey, traveling overland through Iran into Asia. Then, after seeing Pakistan, India, and Nepal, I’d cross over to Tibet and then China, going all the way to Beijing before turning south to visit Laos, Cambodia, Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore, and Indonesia. Then I’d fly from Bali to Cape Town, South Africa, in order to cross Africa from its southernmost point all the way up to Cairo. In the final leg, I’d go back to Istanbul. I needed approximately fourteen months for this tour.

India

I had first visited India in 1997 and found that it was still a tough place to travel alone. I wanted to leave New Delhi quickly and head over to Rajasthan, where I hadn’t been to before, and I also wanted to see Jaipur, Jaisalmer, and Udaipur.

Sitting at the Sunset Café and listening to the Saraswati Music School’s percussion group, I watched the sun set over Pushkar’s tranquil and peaceful holy lake. This was an incredible experience, a highlight of my journey.

Next, wanting to see the Karni Mata Temple, I made my way to Bikaner. What makes this a unique place is that the mice living in this temple are considered holy. I observed religious rituals to honor spirits who, according to belief, will be important religious figures in their future lives but choose to be mice in this one.

I don’t think I would have ever heard of Hampi in the state of Karnataka if I hadn’t been so intent on seeing all the UNESCO World Heritage sites. Then, after visiting the monumental temples there and in Badami and after a long road trip, I reached Goa, the old Portuguese colony famous for its beaches. I loved swimming along those endless beaches.

Next I visited Tamil Nadu and Kerala, two states in the southernmost part of India. Both were luscious green places filled with exotic beaches, coconut trees, and banana plantations. I left Amma’s ashram for a day-long, five-phase trip to see the Brihadisvara Temple, also a UNESCO World Heritage Site, in Thanjavur, Tamil Nadu. This was the biggest Hindu temple I had seen so far. The main structure, like the pyramids in Egypt, was extremely impressive and truly magnificent.

I found India’s fourth largest city, Madras (or Chennai, as it is known today), to be a bit more organized but an ordinary town. Being a central hub for train and plane connections, it was a place that travelers usually just passed through.

I arrived late at night in Calcutta. Its symbol, the Howrah Bridge, greeted me with its incredibly gnarled traffic. In this city, a legacy of the British colonial period, I stayed at a hotel on the same street as the Fairlawn Hotel, the setting for City of Joy, a film starring Patrick Swayze that I’d seen three times. I strolled through Chowringhee district, where one of the most important scenes in the film was shot. This was a truly wonderful experience.

Before crossing over to Nepal, I made my way to Darjeeling, at the foot of the Himalayas. The mini railroad built in 1881 was under UNESCO’s protection, as it was the oldest mountain railroad. Since it was a favorite vacation spot for Indians, it featured lots of hotels and restaurants, and visitors could see the world’s third tallest peak, Kanchenjunga (8598 m), easily throughout the city.

43204.png43228.png

Nepal

Nepal was an incredibly peaceful and quiet country compared to India. The hotels were cleaner and people smiled more, and the four days I spent in Pokhara were the most relaxing ones of my trip.

The buildings in Bhaktapur, where I visited next, had been undergoing restoration with aid from Germany since the early 1970s. The wood carvings in their windows were completely unlike any I’d seen elsewhere. The sandstone carvings on windows in India had impressed me, but these were truly magnificent. Also, no matter how hard I tried to get lost in the town’s narrow streets, I always ended up in the large square filled with spectacular centuries-old temples.

Myanmar (Burma)

Burma hadn’t been on my original itinerary, as there was no overland crossing into the country, but I couldn’t go to Tibet and China as planned because of visa problems, so spending the time in Burma that I had set aside for Tibet and China seemed quite a good idea. I had to travel by plane, however, as I couldn’t get to southeastern Asia over land at all.

I spent two wonderful weeks in this beautiful country in the fourth month of my journey. I had always thought of Southeast Asia as my second home, and my experiences in this country proved it to me once again. I traveled and wandered to Bagan, Inle Lake, Golden Rock in Kyaikto, Yangon, and Mandalay—all magnificent places—calm and relaxed, just as if I were at home.

Laos

I could have gone by train directly from Bangkok to Vientiane, the capital of Laos and just across the border from Thailand, but I had dreamt of another route that proved to be incredibly fulfilling. I started on the overnight train to Chiang Mai in northern Thailand, then took a three-and-a-half-hour trip to Chiang Rai and a two-and-a-half-hour bus ride before I finally reached Chiang Khong, on the banks of the Mekong River. After crossing the Mekong by boat, I landed in Laos at Huay Xai. I spent that night at a clean but cheap hotel and embarked on a fast six-hour boat ride on the Mekong, reaching Luang Prabang the next morning. I’ll never forget that trip on the Mekong: six foreigners required to wear motorcycle helmets squeezed onto a tiny boat, the shaft of its huge, roaring engine stretching parallel to the river behind us as we flew over waves, whirlpools, and eddies. Experiencing the magnificent natural scenery of the Mekong was well worth being soaked to the skin by rain for all six hours.

Cambodia

I reached the Laos-Cambodia border after riding for six hours on the back of a pickup truck on very dusty roads. The five-US-dollar bribe customs officials demanded at their office made of two bamboo huts at the point where the Mekong leaves Laos seemed to be very small, especially considering the problems we could have encountered given that my companion had lost her departure card.

Angkor Wat and the surrounding temples, our next destination, are to Cambodia what the Eiffel Tower is to France and the Taj Mahal is to India. Cambodia’s national flag even features the image of Angkor Wat. I had seen a lot of temples in Asia, but Angkor Wat’s giant size and its impressive layout and surrounding moat left me breathless.

Thailand

August was the beginning of a wonderful period. My daughter, whom I hadn’t seen since the beginning of the trip four and a half months before, came to Bangkok to travel with me until the end of the month.

After touring all the sites in Bangkok, my daughter and I moved to Sukhothai, the capital of an ancient kingdom in the north. After Sukhothai, our next goal was the most important city in the north, Chiang Mai. The old city and its wats surrounded by a square moat almost two kilometers long were truly spectacular. Getting lost in the streets of the old city, watching the young Buddhist monks’ morning rituals at the beautiful wats, and resting at the frequent traditional coffee shops was a joy.

Malaysia

Perhentian Island featured beautiful beaches, especially Long Beach, reached after a ten-minute jungle trek, where we swam.

Then it was on to Kuala Lumpur for my second visit there, and we decided to stay in my favorite place, Chinatown, again.

Singapore

Singapore was a very modern, very advanced, and, compared to other countries in Southeast Asia, very expensive place. I chose to stay near Bugis Junction, where I had previously stayed. Orchid Road was filled with shoppers, as it was the weekend. I hadn’t been to the Underwater World on Sentosa Island before, and walking beneath the sharks with my daughter proved to be a great experience.

Indonesia

After crossing the whole island of Sumatra and visiting the capital, Jakarta, on Java, my next stop was Yogyakarta, the cultural and artistic capital of Indonesia, in a sense. Unlike Jakarta, with its giant buildings and motorways, it was a pretty city filled with single- or two-story buildings.

What made Yogyakarta truly special, however, were the two magnificent temple complexes, both of which are UNESCO World Heritage Sites, forty kilometers away. First I visited the more visually appealing of the two, Borobudur, a Buddhist temple.

I then reached the island of Bali toward the end of my sixth month on the road. If you had to say one thing about Bali it is that it is magnificent. It would not be incorrect to call it Hinduism’s most spectacular stronghold because of its people’s intense religious practices distinct from those in India. The friendly Balinese people’s unique interpretation of Hinduism also resulted in distinctive architecture, religious ceremonies, and lifestyle. The island’s beaches were like heaven to surfers, and rice paddies stretched for miles. The Hindu temples were also sparkling clean, totally unlike the filthy ones I’d become accustomed to seeing filled with identically clad Hindus performing rituals from 6:00 p.m. until midnight.

Ubud, the cultural center of Bali, was a wonderful place to experience a totally different Indonesia in every sense. I had to wear traditional clothes in the main temple in the village center as I watched the rituals and shows that were part of the daily evening prayers. I took long strolls among the rice paddies, chatted with the young singer at Miller Time café, whose version of I Will Survive took me down memory lane, ate fish every evening in Lovina, in the north, and watched the sunset from the black-sand beaches. This was a wonderful vacation, one I felt I deserved. Trying to shake the exhaustion of six and a half months on the road and the desire to recharge my batteries prevented me from fully exploring the island, and Bali is one of the places that I want to go back to. I truly believe that after my exhaustingly long and difficult trip in Asia, God awarded me with these wonderful days on this island.

Flying from Asia to Africa

My trip in Asia was long, lasting six and a half months, and difficult, covering eighty-two cities in nine countries, each more beautiful than the last. Together with the four and a half weeks I spent in Vietnam in 1999, this trip completed my tour of all the countries in Southeast Asia. This part of the world is like my second home, especially after I finally discovered the unkempt cemetery for Turkish prisoners of war in a tiny village in Myanmar. I have to add, however, that it would not have been possible to visit all these places while I was still in the military as taking so much time off would not have been possible. I will never forget the wonderful days I spent in Nepal, Burma, Laos, Cambodia, and Bali, the countries I visited for the first time on this trip. I also feel that I passed important milestones in my spiritual journey on this trip, although my whole life may be insufficient time to complete this spiritual journey.

Next I arranged for the quite long flight from Denpasar, Bali, to Kuala Lumpur and finally to Cape Town, where I’d begin my African adventure on the morning of October 11. I wondered what I would encounter there. I knew the journey would not be as easy as the journey through Asia, but I hoped that everything would go as smoothly in Africa as it did in Asia.

Each moment is there for a new beginning, and this one hangs by my bed

Fairy tales, past and future, penetrate my words

Everyone is on a path of their own, I on the steppes of emotions

On the path of rain, on the path of stars

I burned loneliness with my love; I burned it like it was paper

Quietly I despised the rich scums and tore down each sorrow one by one.

PART 2

South Africa and Lesotho

Don’t forget that you’re white.

October 11: Airport, Johannesburg, South Africa

Stevie Wonder’s unforgettable song Superstition along with a brilliant red sunrise outside my window welcome me to Africa. This is wonderful, the very first sign that everything will be really great. An incredible sensation in me makes me realize I am finally in Africa. I’m bursting with the excitement of knowing I’m finally going to embark on my journey across this huge continent. I know the journey through Africa won’t be as easy as my Asian journey was, but I wonder, what will I see and experience on the Dark Continent?

I only have an hour-and-a-half flight from Johannesburg to Cape Town left before I take that first step to adventure.

My friend, the real safari is just beginning.

October 12: Zebra Crossing Hostel, Cape Town

The hostel where I’m staying in Cape Town is simple but extremely clean and comfortable. I feel totally at home. In the early morning, I sit at a table in the lobby trying to complete the gaps in my journal about Asia, and the cleaning lady is extremely considerate, cleaning the table without disturbing me.

I saw a problem the moment I set foot on this continent, one that I had never encountered in Asia: dangerous tension between blacks and whites. Knowing that this situation is going to accompany me throughout the trip is quite disconcerting. The hostel’s gate is kept closed at all times, and guests enter the main building in the garden through an iron-grille door. Guests have a key to open the gate and the iron door. This double security system is something I’m totally unaccustomed to.

Shortly after noon, I leave the hostel to walk around the Waterfront. According to my map, the road my hostel is on will lead me straight there. I’m familiar with the American-style sights of orderly crossroads and wide boulevards, along which unemployed blacks sell flowers and magazines.

After a long walk, I reach the Waterfront, which features a large shopping center, the harbor, and cafes and restaurants. In a building adjacent to the clock tower is a placard that reads Nelson Mandela Gateway to Robben Island. I suddenly remember that Robben Island is on UNESCO’s World Heritage Sites list. I was able to gather information about sites in Asia before setting out on this trip, but I don’t yet know where all the ones in Africa are, so this surprise makes me very happy.

I board a ferry to the island with a group of elderly white tourists, and the city panorama gradually unfolds as we leave the harbor. Cape Town, with Table Mountain peeking through the clouds above it and houses stretching all the way beyond Green Point, is a beautiful city.

We reach the island forty-five minutes later. Three buses await us, and a black guide, Kenneth, leads us on a half-hour bus tour, telling us about the history of the island as we drive. He explains that the island changed hands among European colonizers several times beginning in the 1500s. In 1961, South Africa’s racist regime converted it to a prison for political prisoners. Nelson Mandela, the first black president of the Republic of South Africa, was imprisoned here for eighteen years, in cell 5 in block 5.

The bus takes us past the island’s buildings, churches, mosques, and unused artillery from World War II.

The most interesting site is the lime quarry where prisoners worked. Kenneth had left this site to last and called it the most important national monument in Africa. I noticed only a pile of fist-sized rocks in the middle of the quarry, and my fellow tourists and I were puzzled about how a pile of rock could be a national monument. Kenneth then explained that every five years on February 11, all the prisoners get together and leave a stone in memory of their incarceration, leaving this pile of rocks. This tradition will apparently continue until the last of the prisoners who had been held here dies.

In the second part of the tour, we visit the actual prison, led by a new guide—an elderly black man who spent twenty years of his life as a prisoner here. He shows us the cell Mandela lived in for eighteen years, the courtyard where he was taken for fresh air, the baths, and dining hall. A photo of Mandela taken in 1966 hangs in the courtyard, exactly in the place where it was taken.

43234.png

At the end of the tour, our guide asks us to sit on benches in a small hall and invites us to ask questions. He likes it when one of the visitors asks, Why are you still working here? He stresses that it is not at all easy for a black ex-convict to find a job and that he believes the best person to explain this place is a convict who was incarcerated here.

10-12%20a.JPG10-12%20B.JPG

October 13: Zebra Crossing

It is a bright, warm and sunny spring (!) morning. Sipping my coffee in the hostel’s garden, I feel the wonderful warmth of the sun in my bones. On this peaceful, quiet Sunday morning I would have given a lot to be sitting in Candarli, a town near Izmir, Turkey, on the shores of the Aegean Sea sipping a cup of tea. That’s not going to happen any time soon, but greeting such a beautiful day in one of the farthest corners of the world is very nice too.

As I check my e-mails in the afternoon I am shocked by a message from a friend: Explosion in Bali, 150 dead, it reads. At first I can’t believe it and think it’s a joke to get back at me for the wonderful days I had in Bali. My response is simply, You must be joking.

But then I see the footage on a TV news broadcast, and I dash to the nearest Internet cafe to e-mail Venda, my guide in Bali. He beat me to the computer and sent me a message explaining that a car bomb had exploded in front of the café and bar where Venda and I had dinner just a week ago. According to the first reports, more than 180 people are dead and hundreds more are wounded, all because of a heartless act of terror. Bali is the goose that laid the golden egg, and it looks like a terrorist tried to kill that goose. This would make life even harder for the people of Bali, who were already suffering after September 11. I am filled with conflicting emotions. Just a week ago I had a great time in the cafe-bar and had passed in front of it on numerous occasions before that. Leaving the island three days ago now happens to be a stroke of luck, for I could have been in that cafe. There is nothing I can do except to thank fate, my lucky stars, and God.

October 15: Longine Lodge, Port Elizabeth

Baz Bus, a minibus company, carries mainly foreign tourists along the long coastal road from Cape Town to Swaziland’s capital, Mbabane. The best part about the company’s service is that it collects passengers from their hostels and drops them off at a hotel of their choice, making travel extremely easy. The service saves me from having to go to the bus terminal and then to get to the town center in the unfamiliar place where I’ve just arrived and to find a hotel at an awkward hour. This is especially beneficial in a place like South Africa, where the racial tension is so strong that it makes one worried for their safety walking the streets.

We pick up passengers from various hotels, the last of which is in the Woodstock district, which allows me to see this part of the city. Nice cafes line the streets in this and all the districts we see, so Cape Town reminds me of San Francisco, a beautiful city I have always liked.

The scenery changes as soon as we leave Cape Town. The whites’ beautiful houses are replaced by the ramshackle wood-and-tin huts where blacks live. These destitute dwellings go on for miles.

This is one of the strange sights I’ve seen in South Africa that I haven’t encountered in the United States or anywhere else. Most houses and even cars have an Armed Response sign on them that means I have a permit to carry a gun for protection, a measure taken to thwart thieves. Some houses even have electric fences on top of their high walls. The situation must be really dire, so I have to be careful. I anticipate seeing even more extreme sights in Port Elizabeth today, and after a couple of days of this, I really wonder when I’ll get to see the real spirit of Africa instead of this tense facade.

We drop off the first passengers at a hotel in Hermanus, a quaint little place set among vineyards. I’m told that this is the best place for whale watching along the South African coast.

As we drive on, the scene constantly changes. Green is the dominant color. We pass lakes and pine forests that stretch all the way down to the shore, just like in northern Europe. We also pass wheat fields, vineyards, and sheep and ostrich farms.

We stop for a late breakfast at an elegant roadside café, but we’re short of time, so we have to make do with a quick bite of fast food. I see a young blond cyclist at the roadside stop but don’t have time to chat with him. A French lady in our group does speak to him and says that he’s from England and has traveled across the Middle East and Africa all the way here on his bicycle. An incredible adventure! This is really a commendable success story.

Another French lady a few years older than me sits in front of the minibus with her kids, and she tells me she lives in Durban. She handed me a piece of paper while we stopped at Hermanus, and I see now that it’s some sort of Christian publication. I ask her where she’s going, and we have a lengthy conversation. When we get on the road again, she opens a jar and offers me some black olives, saying, You must have missed these, and I had really missed the taste of this tiny black specialty of the Mediterranean. When another passenger gets off, this lady moves to the seat next to me, and we chat about our love of God. She gives me a prayer and asks me to read it every day of my journey. It reads, God, please send your Spirit and your love for Jesus to my heart. Forgive me all my sins and give me your free gift of everlasting life. Help me to love you and to love others. Amen.

A Buddhist monk on the Asian leg of my tour told me, Love is at the core and beginning of everything. We have to accept everyone, whoever they may be, without any prejudice, and with love.

This is the first time since I was in India that I’ve talked about this topic, and I really like that we share the same views and morals.

We next travel along the Garden Route, the area stretching from Mossel Bay to Knysna along the Indian Ocean coast. Everywhere you look is beautifully manicured, just like a very large garden, and each village where we stop at to drop off passengers is also well kept. The wilderness as we make our way down to sea level makes for a particularly gorgeous photo. The Beach House, a hostel located on the last plain before sea level, must have one of the world’s best views. I would love to stay here but have to go on. Maybe next time.

Our vehicle breaks down at Knysna, so we make an unscheduled stop in front of a hostel, and the passengers go into the garden to wait, as it’s getting dark. Three ladies from our minibus join an elderly couple in front of the fire, and one of the ladies pulls out a bottle of wine and offers a glass to everyone. A beautiful night! A romantic camp fire before me and a glass of red wine. What more could I ask for?

October 16: Lungine Lodge, Port Elizabeth (PE)

Lungine Lodge, where I’m staying in Port Elizabeth, is a wonderful backpacker hostel. It is very clean and has a homey atmosphere. The guests are all like a big family as some cook, others play billiards, and still others swim in the pool. It’s hard to find these standards even at a three-star hotel in Asia. I feel like I’m in a sterile environment after weathering the toughest hygiene conditions in Asia,