Potholes and Sweat

Today for the first time I have braved the front seat. I was apprehensive at first but it ain´t so bad up here, much more leg room. I´ve got a little african kid sitting next to me. He likes my biscuits, but not my bananas, some things are the same everywhere.

Last night was another typical Mozambique evening, humidity levels off the chart. The sweat dripped down my back as I picked off my prey from under my mozquito net. I´ve got my bedtime mozzie technique down now. First I set up the net, stretch it out, tuck it under the mattress at each corner. Then I put my supplies in, head lamp, silk sheet (sleeping bag a waste of time so far), bottle of water and maybe a book. When all is ready I quickly duck under the net and reseal it. Then I put on the headlamp turn it on full and hone in on my targets. You´d think when you first get under the net there wouldn´t be any mozzies... but they are always there... I think they camp out there during the day. The other night I woke up and killed 10 of the barstards. I had left the smallest of gaps.... I won´t make that mistake again.

Our driver just drove through a roadblock rope by accident, it was a withering old piece of twine setup before a bridge, it snapped like a twig. He wasn´t paying attention. The police on patrol are lightening his wallet right now, a few hundred Mets should do it, about $10AUD. On a whole the driver has done well today, it ain´t easy driving in Mozambique. The roads are potholed like Swiss cheese, even those not long laid are crumbling along the edges, as if wild animals come out of the bush at night and nibble on them. We´re on our way to Chomio, I think we´ll get there by lunch.

No Mans Land

Yesterday we were in no man’s land for about 15mins. Distance wise I would estimate it to be around 300mtrs between the border of South Africa and Mozambique. In this place businesses of every nature go on. Hawkers flogging goods at ‘special just for you…. Zulu prices’, money changers offering crazy exchange rates that would send the world back into a GFC, I even saw a bloke get handcuffed by an army dude because he was holding onto his bag too tightly.

I asked Jess if we could get a slice of the incredible exchange rate action going on, she declined. I asked again, she declined. Instead we went into one of the more esteemed establishments set up along ‘No Mans land’. It said “Insurance” out the front, but our bus conductor gave us good instruction… ‘Yes, money, change’ pointing at the hut. It had more resemblance to a temporary tuck shop back at Hampton Primary School, than a place of currency exchange, but we decided to try our luck.

We stepped inside to four Africans sitting around a table laidened with notes stacked inches high… all we needed was a black briefcase with ‘the goods’ and it had Hollywood drug deal scene take 1 written all over it. I decided against asking the question whether they change money figuring that would put us on the back foot for the negotiation, instead I just took out all our money and started counting. At this stage one of the money exchange street hawkers started banging on the window ‘4.2… 4.2’ I heard through the glass. It was a good rate so I repeated it to drug lord sitting behind the desk. His reply was a deep laugh that only a Nigerian could pull off.....‘4’ he replied. I looked at Jess and briefly considered arguing the point. I placed the Rand on the counter and we watched as he counted out his notes, all the while his three cronies stood there not letting their eyes off us.

‘4400’ he said through his cigar as he placed the last note in front of me. I knew it was a little short, but it was clear the negotiation phase had passed. We took the money and stepped out of the shop and back into the peaceful mayhem of ‘No Man’s Land’, feeling somewhat inducted into it’s chaotic realm.

Sun City

‘Let go…. come on, you can do it’ I shouted from below.
‘I don’t want too…… aarrgggggh’
In the end it took a little bit of an assisting shove from the lifeguard, but that’s how they roll in SA. Having screamed all the way Jess stood up and pulled her wedgie out, she was grinning from ear to ear…. and why not, she had just conquered the city of Sin’s most daunting….. ‘Slide of Courage’.

None of my mates are quite sure when Sun City was built, they just say sometime in the 80’s.... and it makes sense to leave it that way. As that decade seems like a fitting birth time for a city that is destined to always stand out in the crowd. Wedged between the spectacular rolling hills of the Pilanesberg National Park and the flat industrialised platinum planes of the Northern Province, Sun City is simply a place one must see.

And yes it has a monorail!

The Slide of Courage

Darryl Jane & Paige

Jess and me

The Valley of Waves

Inside the Casino

A scenic shot

Target Practice

'Choooooof’ as the bullet thudded into the wooden retainer wall.

‘You see, with this silencer it doesn’t even make a noise.’ We’d been in South Africa about 45mins and Eddie (our host) was already giving us a lesson in armed self defence. Suffice to say a week later Jess and I were out in the veld (paddock to us) getting our first lesson in clay pigeon shooting. Having never even held a gun, at first I was a bit apprehensive but being a sucker for the ‘Marty McFly - Chicken’ syndrome I was not going to shirk my turn.

It took me four shots to hit my first clay, then I got my eye in. In the last round I hit 5 of 6 and reckon I can challenge for Russell Marks’ spot in the next Olympics. Warning to other first timers though, expect some muscle soreness afterwards…. my cheek copped a battering, felt like I’d taken a hit from Cassius Clay himself.

Getting my eye in

A shoot off

Jess shooting and Darryl on the sling