Where We Slept

To give an overview of our Christmas-break, we'll revive our series 'Where We Sleep'. Later we'll fill in some details, like 'who's this fabulous Pai Natal'.


WWS 1: Bronkhorstspruit
Locals would drive the 1000 k's to Maputo in a day, but for us that seemed too much. Therefore we spend the first night on the brink of Bronkhorstspruit Dam, 50 k's east of Pretoria. From our campsite at Kaia Manzi Resort we see the place where our friend Heintje used to have a cabin across the water.
Although we are ahead of the real holiday-migration, the camp is already packed (for European campers the picture will seem quite empty, but here this is really crowded). For us it's fascinating to stay in between these Afrikaners - this is a detail to be filled in later...


WWS 2-4: Paul & Jacinta, Maputo
After a smooth drive we reach the Mozambican border (Lebombo - Ressano Garcia). Apprehensive, because you never know with borders, and because we saw heavy, and heavily loaded traffic driving up to Lebombo. It's really amazing how much you can tie upon any type of vehicle, especially considering the bad condition of some cars and busses. What to take to Moz: bicycles (the village-women use them for transport) and jerry cans (to fetch water at the communal pump).
Compared to how it can be we have an easy crossing, only 75 minutes, and we don't have to unpack our car because Maud gets our paper signed beforehand by a friendly official, while Bram drives the car to the checkpoint. (No, she didn't bribe him; once again we had a bribe-free vacation).


Upon arriving in Maputo we discover for the second time that day we got too depended on cell phones. We manage to find the meeting point, but our phones don't work, so we can't tell Paul we're there. Luckily we look very much 'ah, shame', standing next to our small bakkie after two days of travelling. A nice, very Portuguese looking man phones Paul for us, and after some beers at Piri Piri we travel on.
Jacinta & Paul just arrived the day before from Edinburgh, so they're not totally organized yet. This is an excellent excuse to have dinner at Costa do Sol, a famous fish-restaurant that happens to be en route to the Jenkins-roundavel just outside Maputo.


WWS 5-8: Xai-Xai
We want to experience the famous Mozambican beaches, so we booked a campsite at Xai-Xai, 200 k's north from Maputo. Praia do Xai-Xai is a mixture of ruined hotels and brand-new beach-houses that makes one wonder.


The beach and the Indian Ocean are indeed amazing. On top of that the water temperature is such that even we can swim!


The campsite is again packed with Afrikaners, who, as Paul says, travel with 'everything but the kitchen sink'. And the servants, we might add. This campsite has it all: men to build up your tent, do the dishes, get firewood, clean the daily catch (those Afrikaners love fishing), wash your clothes, and etcetera. In the morning the baker walks around with fresh bread, and during the day the women pass by with fresh fruits & veggies.


WWS 9-10
Christmas eve we are back at P&J's. When we arrived in Mozambique it was cold and stormy, but by now we get the humid, blazing hot weather Paul predicted. This is why you have to do game-drives at sunrise and sunset; during the day every living thing tries to move as little as possible. Only when Paul starts playing his guitar we know it's time for sundowners and action.


Some people, like the guests, can afford to loiter under the Marula-tree all day, but others can't escape some action during the day. Next to the Christmas-cooking Jacinta has to look after the garden, and check out the new gardener.


Garden is too small a word for the 100 by 300 meter plot P&J have north of Maputo. The huge Marula was already there when they got the plot about 25 years ago. By now they added a lot of mango's and other trees, so we can eat luscious fruits all day.


29 years after they first met, and still in love.
All in one it's a real X-mas, with good company, beautiful presents and delicious food - but that's also to be filled in later.


WWS 11-12
Boxing day we leave for Swaziland. This border (Namaacha - Lomahasha) is heaven compared to RSA-Moz via Nelspruit - almost no other crossers, and a fully computerized visa-system. A small setback is that we have to pay import-tax on the capulanas (cloth) we bought in Maputo, but Bram manages to talk that one down big time.


Luckily most of the cashews we bought along the road in Moz are stashed under our camping-equipment, and the small box with our daily ration gets in untaxed. By now we have this game: getting a smile from any official (police, customs, soldiers) is 1 point, a laugh is 2 points, and chatting 3 points. If the official initially was unfriendly, you get double points. (This all has to be achieved without bribing.)


Hlane Game Sanctuary, where we booked a campsite, is just over the border. But that goes for everything in Swaziland because it's tooo tiny (it's even smaller than the Netherlands). We picked a place without electricity, hoping that would guarantee rest. (Afrikaners like to bring their microwave, water cooker and so on when camping.) They were indeed surprised when we booked, saying 'it's never full'. And empty it is, a beautiful, spacey campsite, with not too much other guests - and a tame ostrich, that likes it's braai-meat medium. All night we hear the lions roar, which adds to the 'back to nature'-feeling.


The sanctuary itself is also pretty, although some parts suffered heavily under the elephants. That's the usual problem with sanctuaries for elephants: they either die or manage to settle nicely - and breed more enthusiastically than the little space they get can carry.
Driving around we get to suspect the lions are lured to a private part of the reserve, close to the campsite. It's fishy: they stay in approximately the same place all night and every night. Like their prey is delivered on a golden platter at a fixed place, and doesn't have to be chased. (The platter must be golden, as the whole reserve belongs to the king.)
For practice they seem to hunt down the occasional biker. Along the highway that runs through the reserve there're these road-signs: 'Bikers beware of lions and elephants'.


WWS 13
After Swaziland we slowly drift back home. Driving to the border we pass Manzini and Mbabane, and deduce from the billboards the formerly famous Swaziland-casino's go online now. Swazi used to be gamblers-heaven for South Africa. Since the RSA-government legalized gambling, there's no need to travel to the Swazi-casino's anymore.
It's another smooth crossing, although there's a bit of waiting, because Ngwenya-Oshoek is an important border, and the visa-system hasn't been computerized yet. Still we have ample time to drive to Vereeniging to buy - stuff (materials for Maud's endless textile-projects) before we look for a camping spot on the brink of the Vaal.
Some years ago we spend a lovely day along the Vaal with friends, a river that's by now a world heritage site. We always wanted to go back, and we find a nice campsite at Vaal Wes, close to Paris. It's packed again, but although we didn't book, manager Willie van Rensburg (his dad was Dutch, he says) finds us a spot right next to the river.


WWS 14
We're very close to Potchefstroom now, but all our Potch-friends are of course celebrating their holidays somewhere else, so we only go there because it's Bram's turn to shop. It's weird to enter Potch and see Louis' house without staying there!
After Bram's shopping-spree we have to decide what to do. We can easily drive home today, but that would end the holiday. We know where to get the keys to both Louis' and Anel's house, so we have the luxury of 'pick your place' in Potch. We decide to do something unplanned, and drive on to Groot Marico. That's on our way to Morwa, and several Botswana-friends say it's great place for a break.
The Indian shopkeeper, where we buy our firecrackers, points us to yet another lovely campsite, at the brink of the Bosveld Dam in the river Marico. It looks packed, and we didn't book, but everyone is very relaxed about that. 'Just pitch your tent anywhere you like', says the son to owner farmer Jan.


Next afternoon we take the back-road that, according to Jan, reduces the distance to Gabs to 120 k's. No Golden Highway via Zeerust for us anymore, except in rainy weather, because than this dirt road will change into a car-trap.
Back home we find everything in impeccable order, thanks to Bashi. Our vegetables have grown amazingly, and we can pick our first kouseband - yummy!