I'll be back

Sunday 21st September

OR Tambo Airport, Johannesburg

There's nothing quite so painstaking as a day spent counting down the hours to a flight, so we were determined to make the most of our last day here.

We began by visiting Hartebeespoort Dam,a beautiful construction which creates a lake with banks reminiscent of northern Italy.

To drive over the top of the dam (an interesting experience in itself), we had to wait in what felt like the world's longest traffic jam, caused by the fact that traffic can only cross the dam in one direction at a time.  This time was not wasted, however, as watching the street vendors walking between cards trying to sell everything from Despicable Me backpacks to wrought iron bird cages was entertainment enough.  One technique they were employing to get people to open their cars and talk to them was to pretend they had spotted a soft tyre and point at it in horror.  The amusing thing was watching people fall for this again and again, then ending up agreeing to purchase an etch-a-sketch or a wineglass made from a beer bottle.

The view from the dam was as spectacular as any we've seen here, but once at the other side there was little of interest so we about-turned and joined the queue to go back the other way.

Wisdom at Hartebeespoort Market

In the village of Hartebeespoort itself, there were huge markets on either side of the road with live music and lively bars - a suitable South African end to proceedings.  Once again, the friendliness of the people here shone through and this made for a very enjoyable afternoon.

From here, we went on to Pretoria, most of which was being dug up for what looked like some kind of tram project.  Experience in Edinburgh told me it was best not to ask...

We passed the courthouse which has never been off TV screens since we got here, where Oscar Pistorious was on trial.  Beyond that, there wasn't much to see - being a Sunday afternoon most places were closed.  Leaving the city, we were pulled over by a police patrol, but she seemed confused by the overseas driving license so waved us on rather than having to think about it.

Before long, we found ourselves here, back where it all began three weeks ago.  Returning home from a holiday is never fun, but leaving here is particularly hard.  There's something that just feels 'right' about being here, feeling more like home than somewhere visited for a break.

We've driven over 4,400km through 2 countries, 5 provinces and countless diverse cultures, yet have barely scratched the surface of this fascinating land.

I guess this all builds up to just three words... I'll be back!

Fifteen minutes of fame

Saturday 20th September

Woodridge Palms, Near Rustenburg

Valley of the Waves, Sun City

When entrepreneur Sol Kerzner started building Sun City in the 1970s it was located in Bophuthatswana, a politically self-governing area during the apartheid regime.  The great attraction of "the Bop" was that, being semi-independent from South Africa, it was the only place where gambling was legal as well as being somewhere not subject to apartheid boycotts, meaning western pop stars were happy to perform there.

Kerzner built a huge complex of casinos and concert venues, and together with the discovery of platinum, made the area very wealthy.

Since then, gambling has become legal elsewhere, apartheid has ended and Bophuthatswana has become part of South Africa's North West Province, leaving Sun City with a bit of an identity crisis.

That was what we discovered there today.  All but one of the casinos has been replaced by timeshares, golf courses and a variety of leisure attractions, the most impressive of which is the 'Valley of the Waves' - an artificial beach with 2m high breaker waves built in what is predominantly a desert.

While it made for an incredibly fun day out, there was a striking disconnect between the excess of Sun City and the poverty that surrounds it, and between the drought engulfing the province and the quantity of water being pumped into the folly of a beach in the desert.

More odd was the reception we received there.  On arrival at Sun City, visitors have to take a monorail to the complex.  While waiting, a man came up and asked to have his photo taken with me, and then with our whole family.  Pretty soon, a whole group (who turned out to be a group of social workers on a day out) had formed a queue to shake our hands and have their photos taken with us.

All in all, it took around 15 minutes to pose with each of them, leaving us wondering if it was because we were so milk-bottle white, if it was a bet or if they had mistaken us for someone else.

Whatever the case, it feels like that's my fifteen minutes of fame used up.

The morning after the vote before

Friday 19th September

Woodridge Palms, Near Rustenburg

We awoke to the news that Scotland had voted no to independence, by a margin of 10 percentage points.  I must admit to being relieved, though I remain pleased at the way the referendum has engaged so many people in the political process, with turnout at 85%.

The reaction of people here seems to be positive, with South African politicians remarking on the peaceful, democratic way the whole thing was conducted.  Some have seized the opportunity of Scotland's vote to remain in a union to suggest that the people of Lesotho should be offered a referendum on forming a union with South Africa.  Given the failed coup there just two weeks ago, there does seem an element of opportunism (and a sense of inevitability) to this.

We have now left the mountains and travelled west, through Pretoria to a farm holding called Woodridge Palms, about 40km west of Rustenburg.

It's a rather quirky property set in quirkier grounds with an owner who is quirkier still.  Stepping outside, one is surrounded by free-roaming rabbits, peacocks, cats, doges and even an emu and the whole place has an artificial river running through it, crossed by a Victorian-style iron bridge.  Port Merion eat your heart out.

Not expecting to see much wildlife in this area, it was a pleasant surprise to pass springbok, waterbuck, impala and zebra on the road.  The only thing we haven't seen much of is people - once again, we have arrived in the middle of nowhere.

In search of gold

Thursday 18th September

Sudwala Lodge, Mpumalanga

Post Office, Pilgrim's Rest

The irony was not lost that on the day of the referendum we should find ourselves in an old gold mining town founded by Scots trying to make themselves more prosperous.

Pilgrim's Rest was founded by a Scotsman who struck gold in the area in the late 1800s and it has been preserved as a heritage village by the government since 1984.  In fact, the whole area is known as "Mac Mac" after the succession of Scots who arrived here believing they would be better off here than in the UK.  Some were successful, others not.

It saddens me that so much of the debate around the referendum - on both sides - has been about how much money will be in our pockets.  There have been few arguments of substance or even ideology, and staking the future of our nation (either way) on the hope of striking gold seems as bizarre as the hopes of these prospectors of old.

Village Store, Pilgrim's Rest

As I write, polls will have closed and Scotland's fate lies ready to be counted.  There has been a reasonable amount of media interest here, so hopefully we should be able to find out the result tomorrow.

My personal hope is that Scotland will take this opportunity to affirm its place within the United Kingdom, but that the vision for a fairer society and huge political revival generated by the 'yes' campaign can be harnessed and used to work for social justice across the whole of our islands.

While South Africa bears the scars of its British colonial past, its modern form also stands as testament to what can be achieved when diverse people with different values and different political ideals can unite and work together.

Whatever the result of today's poll, it will leave me no less Scottish and no less British... and no more likely to strike gold either.

Nature's masterpiece

Wednesday 17th September

Sudwala Lodge, Mpumalanga

A kiss from Caspar

Receiving a kiss from an African elephant is even less pleasant than it sounds.

It was early morning and we were in an elephant sanctuary in Hazyview.  Working with two bull elephants, Kito and Caspar, we began the morning by brushing them down.  This was not for keeping them clean - they are more than capable of that themselves - but is rather a chance to check for any tics or signs of infection.

Caspar was just a calf when his entire herd was culled as part of plans to reduce the overpopulated elephant community in the Kruger Park twenty-five years ago.  As a baby, he was spared and was instead sold to a private keeper in Namibia, who also had three other elephants.  As they all grew, though, they began destroying the trees on a local banana plantation, and the farmer shot the three other elephants.  Their owner contacted the sanctuary to re-home Caspar in a safe environment.

Brushing Kito (left) and Caspar

Kito's story is similar, beginning life in the wild, going to a private owner in Mozambique before ending up in the sanctuary.

The keepers in the sanctuary have had to work hard to win the trust of these elephants, as they still remember humans as being the ones bringing such terror to their families.  Elephants, as they say, never forget.  One keeper summed up their past rather well: "where there's man and there's money, things go bad."

After brushing them down, we had a chance to get to know each elephant, examining their trunk, ears, feet and toenails, stomach, knees, tail, tusks and mouth.  (This included feeling their tongues, a feeling not dis-similar to a Noel Edmunds gunge tank.)  Then came our reward from the elephant - the dreaded kiss.

Caspar used his trunk to firmly plant a very warm, moist, sticky smacker on my neck and face - an experience I hope never to repeat.

We then led them hand-in-trunk to be fed.  All the time spent interacting with these giants, it was striking how socially responsive they are, talking the whole time and leaving us in no doubt as to what they enjoyed or didn't enjoy.  John Donne was right when he described elephants as "nature's masterpiece".

Walking Kito

It also got me thinking back to a conversation with Jacob a few days ago in the Kruger Park. The park is big enough to provide sustainable habitat for around 9000 elephants.  At the time Caspar was orphaned, there was a cull because numbers had reached 13,000.

With no culls having taken place in recent years, there are now over 21,000 elephants in the Kruger Park, and with such competition for food, they have started pushing over trees to get to the higher branches, damaging the habitat and endangering the survival of other species.

Attempts to increase the size of land available to them by opening the border with Mozambique in the Greater Limpopo Transfrontier Park have failed, as this has afforded easy passage for rhino poachers.  Translocating entire herds to other parts of Africa has proved too expensive, time inefficient and stressful to the animals.

Caspar

All of this leaves the conservationists with a conundrum: allow the elephant population to continue to rise and risk endangering other species or recommence the culling of these beautiful and socially aware animals.

It really is an impossible problem to solve, and a decision I'm glad I'm not responsible for, but after bonding with some of them so closely, it's hard to contemplate any harm being done to these fascinating animals.

For the beauty of the earth

Tuesday 16th September

Sudwala Lodge, Mpumalanga

Waterfalls, Crocodile River, Nelspruit

Today was one of the hottest yet, so the coolness of the rainforest within Nelspruit's Botanical Gardens was gladly appreciated.  Planted with trees from rainforest areas across Africa, this was home to some of the most extravagantly coloured butterflies I've ever seen.

As well as the rainforest, the botanical gardens were spectacularly planted with all manner of plants and trees, including baobabs.  (Fact of the day: cream of tartar is made from the fruit of the baobab tree.  You learn something new every day.)

Reading the information provided, it was astonishing how many of the trees have medicinal uses, either in traditional remedies or in pharmaceuticals - what a bounty the earth supplies!  (Although, there were an equal number with the ability to sting, poison or blind!)

Cascading waterfalls on the Crocodile River that runs through the gardens ended in a pool filled with plastic bottles and aluminium cans - the shape of the rocks forms a natural filter which removes all the rubbish thrown into the river upstream.  During the dry season, teams of volunteers empty this out, ready for it to start its work all over again the next year.

The beauty and bounty of the earth contrasted with the destructive wastefulness of humankind - when will we ever learn?

The hills are alive...

Monday 15th September

Sudwala Lodge, Mpumalanga

Mac Mac Pools

Coming from Scotland, I'm no stranger to a mountain or two, but the size and extent of those we drove over today fair puts the Cairngorms in their place.

We headed north, past Sabie, and stopped first for a paddle at Mac Mac Pools, natural pools formed from millions of years of water erosion, then at Mac Mac Falls, one of the largest, most impressive waterfalls I've ever seen.  (The photograph does not do it justice!)

This is gold-panning territory, and the name "Mac Mac" is in honour of all the Scottish "MacSomethings" who lost their lives here trying to get rich in the South African gold rush.

Mac Mac Falls

From there, it was on to Graskop to sample the famous "Harrie's Pancakes", and while at first I was sceptical, I must admit to struggling to think of a more enjoyable crepe.

North of there, around the "Panoramic Route", we stopped at "God's Window", a view so dizzyingly high one could be looking down from heaven.

Then, on to Bourke's Luck Potholes: swirling pools of water cut into the rocks by waterfalls where lucky old Bourke dipped his bucket into the pools and pulled it out filled with gold.  There was no gold to be found, and scarcely much water either wing to the exceptionally dry spell being experienced here at present.

Bourke's Luck Potholes

Equally as captivating as the potholes themselves was the troupe of baboons occupying the car parking area, with the alpha male nonchalantly sitting at a picnic bench as though waiting on table service.  (I won't mention how he was keeping himself amused whilst waiting; suffice to say he was one happy baboon!)

Our final stop was at the "Three Rondavels" - a viewpoint overlooking three hills which resemble African rondavel huts.  Formed from red volcanic rock, they had a lime green lichen growing on them which made for an immense splash of colour.

Just as impressive was the opal blue lake which lay below - I had to remind myself that the drop was a few thousand feet to resist the urge to jump in.

It would have been great to explore more of this postcard-picturesque part of the country, but we ran out of daylight, as it very suddenly gets dark at 6pm sharp.

Three Rondavels

While the drive home in the dark was less scenic, it was no less adventurous, as many of the locals seem not to have rear lights, so one was literally never sure what lay round the next corner.


God's Window



The happy baboon

"Tites hang down..."

Sunday 14th September

Sudwala Lodge, Mpumalanga

Today got off to a less-than-successful start, mostly spent getting lost.  We had set off for Nelspruit in search of a church, armed with directions given to us by the lodge receptionist.  Despite following them to the letter, and spotting all the other landmarks he's mentioned, there was no church to be found.  Unless of course there is another meaning to the "invisible church" being talked about at the moment!

After two hours of trying, we gave up and headed to our other planned activity for today - a waterpark - only to find it closed and not re-opening until October.

Deciding that perhaps Nelspruit wasn't for us, we headed up a mountain, and the scariest road I've ever had to drive on, to Sudwala Caves, the oldest known cave in the world.

Sudwala Caves

The caves featured an impressive array of stalagmites, stalactites and floorstone formations, the sheer scale of which was breathtaking.  Considering that they grow at a rate of around 2.5cm per year, billions of years must have been staring us in the face.

The caves are also home to several thousand bats, each of which consumes up to 600 mosquitoes per hour, a fact which gives me a whole new appreciation of bats.

With temperatures unseasonably high, the visit to the caves 80m below the surface offered a welcome cool, and the chance to sample some of the spring water flowing through them.

We had been disappointed not to find the church this morning, but billions of years of history and awe-inspiring beauty hidden deep underground provided an opportunity to worship God in a different way.

A quiet day

Saturday 13th September

Sudwala Lodge, Mpumalanga

After yesterday's early rise and rhino excitement, we opted for a quiet day to day, largely spent catching up on some reading and enjoying the sun (which is mercifully a little cooler here than in Skukuza).

We have entered a largely Afrikaans speaking area, which is noticeable in the way people assume we speak Afrikaans because we're white.

We're based here for 7 days, our longest stop in the three weeks we're here.  After a good day's rest, we head out tomorrow to see what Mpumalanga has to offer.

The one with the rhino chase

White rhinoceros, Kruger National Park

Friday 12th September

Sudwala Lodge, Mpumalanga

I had considered many possibilities for how to spend our fifth wedding anniversary, but being chased by an angry white rhino at sunrise wasn't one of them.

We had set off on foot at 5.30am to explore the bush around Pretoriuskop.  It is usually forbidden to walk in Kruger National Park because of the danger posed by predators, but with two armed rangers by our side we headed off.

We hadn't really expected to see many animals - this was more a chance to see up-close the plant and insect life that is missed from within a vehicle.  Our guides introduced us to the idea of the "small 5" mirroring the "big 5" - the lion ant, buffalo weaver, leopard tortoise, elephant mouse and rhino beetle.

After about an hour of walking, tasting leaves from trees and examining animal faeces, we came across the midden of a dominant male rhino.  Patrick, one of the rangers, who was busy explaining how the dominant male marks his territory, stopped suddenly, hearing a rhino's call.  (An unbelievably high pitched shriek which could be mistaken for a bird.)

Calling on Jacob, the ranger standing guard with a shotgun, he led us forward in the direction of the call.  Soon, we were in close quarters with three rhinos - a female watching two males fighting.  Jacob explained the younger male was probably the female's son, and the older male was trying to chase him away to get some time alone with his mother.

I've seen rhino fighting courtesy of David Attenburgh, but there is something surreal and heart-stoppingly terrifying about being present within about 20m of it actually happening.  As Jacob stopped to pick up a rock "just in case", I became less enthusiastic about following him closer.

As we were standing watching with no cover in the open plain, one of the rhino spotted us, the fight stopped and we all stood rigidly still as the attention focussed on us.  The dominant male rhino then started to run in our direction, and my legs were finding it increasingly difficult to adhere to the "don't run" advice from the rangers.

As the rhino got to about 20 feet away, Jacob hurled the rock into the grass in front of the rhino and it retreated for long enough to allow us to escape to a safe distance.

The rest of the walk was thankfully less eventful, with much of it spent analysing the outcome of the Oscar Pistorious trial which has dominated the news here. 

On our return to camp, we saw a pair of elephants walking down the road, and then watched a comical farce as three cars reversed rings round each other in panic as the elephants drew closer.

Jacob assured us they posed no threat to the cars as they were female, and only males in must were likely to become aggressive.  "Only be frightened of an elephant that appears to have five legs," he said.

Shiphampanane waterhole, Kruger National Park

It was then time to pack up and leave the camp, heading north to Skukuza.  En route, we stopped at a waterhole and came across the most amazing sight.

On one side of the waterhole were impala, kudu and zebra, followed by a large (50+) herd of buffalo drinking at the water's edge.  Three hippos lay basking in the water, while overhead a fish eagle hunted.

On the opposite side of the water lay the piece de resistance - six elephants bathing in the water.  Watching them swim, dive, play, fight and spray water is one of the finest sights I will ever see.

There were also egrit, hornbill and terrapins.

After lunch at Skukuza, a drive around the Sabie River proved largely fruitless (some red hornbill and a baby monitor lizard) and it was time to leave the Kruger Park having seen some amazing sights, but a little disappointed at not spotting a lion.

A long drive over the mountains then followed to take us to our home for the next week at Sudwala Lodge in Mpumalanga Province.  After much Fawlty Towers-esque chaos trying to check in, we eventually got to bed nearly a full day after having started.

Cheetahs, Stars and Psalm 8

Thursday 11th September

Pretoriuskop, Kruger National Park

Sunset, Kruger National Park

Tonight we took a sunset game drive with a ranger from South Africa National Parks.  At first, the going was slow, with just a few impala, zebra and kudu followed by some distant elephants.  (Isn't it strange how after only a few days here they have become "just" zebra...)  The only 'new' animal for us to see was a single steenbok.

Then, out of nowhere, we discovered two cheetahs walking across the road in front of us - what a sight!  Unfortunately I didn't manage to get the camera out in time before they disappeared, but then they are renowned for being fast!

Cats and dogs were clearly order of the day, with a jackal being our next spot.  (This taught us an important lesson of safari - no matter what you're looking at, always look behind you.  While I was busy looking at a couple of ground hares, I almost missed the jackal that was hunting them.)

Hyena came next, first some young ones then an adult on the prowl.  Shortly after, a genet ran across our path. What we thought was another genet turned out to be a civet - slightly more cat-like.

We also came across a white rhino who was less than impressed with our interruption so we didn't hang about for long.

As well as the animals, two things of great beauty stood out.  First, Africa knows how to put on a spectacle of a sunset, with the sun going from full view to hidden from sight in under a minute.  Second, the lack of light pollution out in the bush allows the most wonderful view of the stars.  Of course, these are southern hemisphere stars so different from the ones we're used to seeing, but in the darkness of tonight whole distant galaxies were visible, and the sky awash with colour.

It really brings home the sentiment of the Psalmist:

Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!  You set your glories above the heavens.

When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and stars that you set in place, what are human beings that you're mindful of us, mere mortals that you care for them? 

 

 

Into Kruger

Wednesday 10th September

Pretoriuskop, Kruger National Park

I was a real shame not to have spent longer in Swaziland - there's something captivating about this place.

After trying to get rid of as much of the local currency (emalangeni, which is tied to the South African rand E1=R1) as possible, we headed north through the capital Mbabane and over the mountains at Pigg's Peak and back into South Africa.

The border crossing at Jeppe's Reef was much less sophisticated than the one we entered - just a man behind a desk in a shed.

We stopped for fuel at Shoemansdal and I ventured into one of the roadside "tuck shops" - a small metal shed selling soft drinks and snacks.  Amusingly, there was a large cash and carry opposite and the shopkeeper was busy dragging goods across the road to sell at a significant mark-up in his store.

So much trade here is done at the roadside, with everything from pineapples to tombstones on display at the kerb in the hope someone will stop to buy.

Elephant, Kruger National Park

Before long, we entered the Kruger Park and headed towards Berg-en-Dal rest camp to have lunch.  En route, and with much surprise given the terrain, we spotted a few elephants.  Then a few more.  And a few more.  Before long, we had seen around 50, seemingly in a herd moving south in search of water.  (All the central rivers have dried out.)  There's a grace to these magnificent creatures which has to be seen to be believed.

Going on towards Pretoriuskop, the rest camp where we'll spend the next two nights, we stumbled across three hyena cubs, their playful, puppy-like appearance disguising the powerful jaws that lay beneath.

Hyena, Kruger National Park

We also sighted nyala, impala, kudu, giraffe, zebra and white rhino.  On arriving at Pretoriuskop, the car was surrounded by a family of dwarf mongoose, who posture themselves something like a meercat.

We thought we were staying in a rondavel, but are actually "mid-terrace" in an elongated rondavel.  Space is extremely limited - just enough to stand up at the side of the bed.  The sobering thought this brings is that small though this is, it is bigger than many of the homes we have passed in townships, which have whole families living in them.

There are hyena prowling the perimeter fence, clearly hoping for a feed.  More proactively, the vervet monkeys are just going into the communal kitchens and helping themselves.

Swaziland

Tuesday 9th September

Mlilwane Wildlife Sanctuary, Swaziland

It was my turn to do some of the driving today, and having never driven abroad before, I clocked up two countries in one day as we crossed the border into Swaziland.

The border came upon us quicker than expected and was quite an experience in and of itself.  First, "departures" and a four step process to leave South Africa consisting of gate checks, passport control, customs then more gate checks.  Then, onto "arrivals" in Swaziland which was a repeat of the same procedure with the added step of obtaining a temporary import license and road tax for the car.  Presumably we'll have the same in store to re-enter South Africa tomorrow.

The length of time and quantity of paperwork involved really makes you appreciate how easily we move around the effectively borderless European Union.

The offending warthog, Mlilwane Wildlife Sanctuary

On crossing into Swaziland, there were several noticeable changes, the first being an absence of towns or built up areas.  For the first 100km or so, nothing but straw, and occasionally tin, huts were visible, each with some chickens or goats roaming around outside.

Clearly a comparatively poor area, one of the striking features was seeing many school-aged children running around playing or carrying out chores, in either case not at school.  We passed very few other vehicles in the rural areas, and being something of a novelty, the children all ran alongside the car to wave to us.

Another change is in landscape, having entered a very mountainous region.  The sandy roads of KwaZulu-Natal have been replaced by a dark red dust.

As we approached Manzini, the biggest city in Swaziland but small by international comparison, larger (sometimes very grand) properties started appearing.  Driving in the crowded city streets was interesting, but the old "if you can't beat them join them" attitude soon prevailed and I quickly learnt to drive like a local.

We then passed by one of the Swazi King's royal residences.  There is clearly a great fondness for the King here, who rules as an absolute monarch.  Many buildings display pictures of the King, Queen Mother and Prime Minister, and many people wear clothes or scarves bearing the King's image.  While at first this could appear dictatorial, I get the sense that it comes from a sense of affection and pride rather than duty or compulsion.

Beehive village, Mlilwane Wildlife Sanctuary

Inside the beehive hut

We're staying at Mlilwane Wildlife Sanctuary, one of three national parks in Swaziland.  We'll be spending the night in a Swazi "beehive" hut - a dome made out of sticks and straw, similar to the Zulu kraal we visited.  While very basic, and full of all sorts of small creatures, it's an interesting experience, and does come with the modern convenience of a toilet and shower in an adjoining tin hut.

The wildlife around here has become remarkably habituated to human presence, with warthog and nyala so tame we could get within touching distance without them bothering.  (Although, one warthog took a dislike to me and charged at my legs as I casually walked
past.)

After dinner, we followed the sound of a drumbeat and discovered 20 or so people in traditional Swazi dress singing and dancing under some trees.  They gave quite a performance, which had an authenticity to it which was lacking at Dumazulu.

As first impressions go, Swaziland has made a good one and has certainly captured a place in my heart and imagination.

Rhinos, rhythm and the referendum

Giraffe, Hluhluwe-iMfolozi National Park

Monday 8th September

Hluhluwe, KwaZulu-Natal

I awoke at sunrise to find we were surrounded by a herd of nyala, who soon moved on when our water pupm started up.

The reason for the early start was our first proper game drive around Hluhluwe-iMfolozi National Park.  Originally two separate parks (hence the mouthful of a name), this is now a "big 5" location and we were not disappointed.

Within moments of entering the park, after waiting for a family of warthog to cross in front of us, we quickly spotted significant numbers of white rhino, a magnificent creature to see in the wild.

Less than a century ago, there were fewer than 100 white rhino left in the wild, yet they have now been removed from the critically endangered list almost entirely thanks to the conservation team in Hluhluwe-iMfolozi - there are now around 10,000 in this park alone!

Every bit as impressive were the many giraffes, one of which even gave us a real performance, strutting back and forth as if it had been asked to pose for photos.  At one point, he passed within about 6 feet.  Whenever we saw giraffe, zebra were not far behind and before long a sighting of buffalo gave us our second of the big 5.

Heading south into the iMfolozi section of the park, the rivers and waterfalls were dry, and the trees and veld charred from recent fires set by the rangers to encourage new grass growth.  This meant not many animals to see, and certainly dashed any hopes we may have had about glimpsing an elephant.

All-in-all, though, a successful day's game viewing: warthog, giraffe, zebra, white rhino, impala, nyala, kudu, buffalo, blue wildebeest, red duiker, waterbuck, helmeted guinea fowl.

At one rest camp (Centenary Centre), we found a local craft market where I picked up a carved wooden Zulu drum for under R500 (about £30).  I've no idea how to get it home yet, but that's for another day.

As this is our last night here, we dined at Hluhluwe River Lodge.  Kudu steaks were served up and were absolutely delicious (very lean, cooked medium-rare and a richer flavour than beef) although there is something very strange about eating kudu while watching kudu innocently pass by on the plain.

(While here, we were visited by a different, smaller, but equally gallous genet.)

We leave South Africa tomorrow for an overnight sojourn into Swaziland, a small independent nation - three words resonating with any Scot at the moment as referendum day looms.  Part of me regrets not being physically present to cast my vote (we're voting by proxy instead), but another part of me is glad to be out of the heat and bluster of the debate, instead enjoying the slower pace of life dictated by a crossing family of warthog.

Culchur

Demonstration of stick fighting, Dumazulu Cultural Village

Sunday 7th September

Hluhluwe, KwaZulu-Natal

It may be Sunday, but a day of rest this was not.

This morning, we visited Dumazulu a traditionally styled Zulu conservation village where the rituals of a people are maintained and showcased.

We were met outside by an elder in full traditional regalia who spoke to us at length in isiZulu while we stood by understanding none of it.  There's something very strange about not being able to communicate a word, yet somehow enjoying one another's company.  Eventually, he gave up trying to speak to us and offered some fruit to eat.  I have no idea what it was - encased in a shell so hard he had to beat it open with his walking stick - but it was very sweet and tasty.  I hope we didn't cause too much offence by spitting the seeds out, as it later became apparent that these are simply swallowed by the locals.

Our cultural inhibitions were much relieved when our guide turned up and was able to translate for us.  She explained the ritual as a drumbeat was sound to ask permission to enter the village, and on hearing the drums reply we were allowed to enter.

As well as the chance to visit the inside of an empty kraal which is laid out with artefacts for explaining the set-up to visitors, we were shown demonstrations of spear and shield making by some enthusiastic young men, and bead and basket making by some less-enthusiastic women.  The tour ended with some of the villagers singing Zulu wedding songs for us.

While much of this was clearly contrived for the benefit of tourists, and some of the women taking part were clearly weary of demonstrating their skills to yet another tour, it was still interesting to learn more about Zulu culture.

For example, when a Zulu man is to take a wife, he must pay eleven cows (or in modern times, the cash equivalent) to the bride's father.  If he is a Christian and is married in church, he is allowed only one wife.  If he is not, and is married in a traditional ceremony, he is allowed many wives, so long as each one agrees.

The unmarried women do not cover their bodies and either wear a loose sarong or remain topless, advertising that they are "still on the market" - their words, not mine!  On engagement, they wear long black robes, and once married add a red head-dress and leather underskirt.  Married men wear a beaded necklace to show they are wed.

It's fascinating that so many diverse ancient cultures all place the woman as 'property' who is 'sold' from father to groom.  Why have men managed to dominate so many different societies?

Next to the village was a bird and reptile park, containing some of Africa's most venomous snakes and several large crocodiles, however they paled into insignificance compared to what followed...

Crocodile, Lake St. Lucia

Before long, we were on a boat safari on Lake St. Lucia.  Very quickly, we (or rather our guide) had spotted several crocodile basking at the water's edge.  There's something far more exciting about coming across an animal in its natural environment than seeing it in a park or zoo.

A short while later, we came across a pod of hippopotamus, and were able to get to within about 10 feet of them.  All in all, we saw 6 crocodiles, 3 pods each of about 20 hippo, a goliath heron and an African delta.

Hippopotamus, Lake St.Lucia

The beach just beyond the estuary of St. Lucia is also breathtakingly beautiful, and when we arrived there at dusk, a few hundred locals had gathered for a huge party, with several minibuses decked-out with amplifiers blasting out music and singing, dancing, eating and drinking going on all around.

Drums and spears and skins are all well and good but, like the market and petrol station in Hluhluwe, this stumbled-upon beach party seemed a much more authentic expression of the modern culture of Zululand.

(The genet paid a fleeting visit tonight.)

Hluhluwe

Ilala Weavers, Hluhluwe

Saturday 6th September

Hluhluwe, KwaZulu-Natal

Daylight gave us a chance for a proper look at Hluhluwe, and it was market day.

Stall after stall lined the street, or rather pickup after pickup - each 'stall' consisted of a loaded covered pickup (known here as a 'backie') and you clambered into the boot for a look around.  Gives a whole new meaning to 'car boot sale'.

In the centre of it all, someone was singing, accompanied by two dancers.  It was hard to tell whether the dancers were part of the act or had just been passing and joined in - their Kappa tracksuits weren't quite in keeping with the traditional dress of the singer.  Anyhow, we ended up buying their homemade CD for R20 (about £1.30).

Around 1km outside Hluhluwe, we came to Ilala Weavers, specialists in traditional Zulu basket weaving.  As well as a shop, they had created a small museum of old Zulu artefacts (including woven grass penis head covers designed to "prevent chafing").  One of the highlights was a set of paintings painted by mouth by a local disabled artist.

Heading out of Hluhluwe, we visited False Bay Park, part of the Greater St. Lucia Wetlands Park.  Famous mostly for fishing and birdwatching, there wasn't much to see here.

Snake skin found at Planters Camp, Hluhluwe River Lodge

In fact, the greatest amount of wildlife was seen in the grounds of our own accommodation, driving to and from the gate:
 - impala
 - nyala
 - red duiker
 - vervet monkey

We also found a snake skin and porcupine spine, but without spotting the accompanying animal.

Tomorrow, we retrace our steps a little and head south to St. Lucia where we've booked a boat safari in the hope of spotting some crocodile or hippos.

(No sign of the genet tonight!)

Journey to the bush

Sand sculptures, Umhlanga Rocks

Friday 5th September

Hluhluwe River Lodge, KwaZulu-Natal

Today we left the comforts of Durban and headed for the bush.

Travelling up the Dolphin Coast, we stopped first at Umhlanga Rocks, which is currently being developed into several high-rise luxury hotels, so not much to see here.  There was, however, a man producing rather impressive sand sculptures of the 'big 5' on the beach.

Having missed the turning for the motorway (a hazard of driving in this are as road signs are confusing at best, if not absent), we travelled for a while through towns such as Tongaat, where every available square inch of pavement was covered by people selling goods.

A detour off our track and up into the mountains took us to surprisingly large Eshowe, a major town supplying the needs of local Zulu villages and supporting the local sugar cane farming industry.  Here, we were able to travel on an aerial boardwalk across the Dinza Forest.  There wasn't much wildlife to be seen (one duiker and several large crickets) but a fantastic view nonetheless.

As our journey got closer to our destination of Hluhluwe and the night grew dark, two changes were noticeable.  Firstly, Western-style buildings were replaced by thatched Zulu kraals, and secondly, the style of driving became more and more terrifying.

There seems to be a habit here, if you are driving slowly, of pulling onto the hard shoulder to let a car past rather than waiting them to overtake.  This was easy to get used to (and actually comes to make sense once you're into it) but by nightfall, we were up to three cars wide per lane, like something one might expect to see in Mumbai.

Tree shower, Hluhluwe River Lodge

Arriving late in Hluhluwe with incomplete directions, we stopped in the world's most bizarre petrol station to ask for help.  This seemed to be the local hotspot, with a constant flurry of activity and people and cars weaving in and out at speed like skaters on an ice rink.

Our accommodation for the next four nights turned out to be 7km up a dirt track - not great at night, but worth every bump and jolt.  We're staying in a little log cabin located miles from civilisation, with collected rainwater heated by the sun as our only commodity and a boma and braai as our cooking appliances.  The herd of nyala waiting to greet us just added to the feel of the place.

While cooking, dinner was almost lost to what at first glance looked like an elongated cat, but turned out to be a large spotted genet.  Perhaps "gannet" would be a more appropriate name - four times it had a go at stealing our steaks.  I guess that's just one of the hazards of living in this wilderness.

Swimming with the fishes

Thursday 4th December

Durban

Today's new experience was my first time diving - on this occasion using a bell jar helmet rather than scuba equipment.  A huge array of barracuda, stingray, manta ray and other large fish swarmed around us.

As well as that, and a touristy visit to a waterpark boasting Africa's tallest slide, we met up with a friend of my mum and dad from their time here.  It was great to see Noelene in her home country - I've only ever met her in Holland before.

Afterwards, we took a drive through Durban's city centre and Indian quarter - altogether less picturesque than the postcard-perfect seafront.  Clearly parts of this city have seen great regeneration in recent years and I really hope they succeed in their bid for the 2022 Commonwealth Games so that the infrastructure continues to improve.

As well as featuring the Juma Musjid, the largest mosque in the southern hemisphere (despite being in a predominantly Hindu area), the Indian quarter featured a vast array of markets and bazaars selling spices, fruits and clothing.

What better way, then, to finish the day than with a meal at one of Durban's most popular Indian restaurants?

A land in transit

Nelson Mandela Square, Sandton, Johannesburg

Wednesday 3rd September

Durban

Today was a long day of travelling, making the 8 hour journey from Johannesburg to Durban, stopping just twice: at Heidelberg just outside Jo'burg and at Ladysmith, home to the famous Black Mombaso choir.

Heidelberg is a picturesque town looking exactly as one might expect a South African town to look, while Ladysmith seemed to be entirely focussed around just one street.  With little of note apart from a rather impressive Sufi mosque, the only remarkable thing about Ladysmith was that we were the only white people to be seen and stuck out like a sort thumb - a real lesson in how conspicuous it feels to be in a minority.

While the journey felt at times monotonous on a road so straight the Romans could have built it, with tolls so frequent the Romans could have created them as well, we did manage to see some wildlife along the way: impala, steenbok, ostriches, flamingos and guinea fowl just some.

However, the most unusual sight had to be the man at the side of a 4-lane motorway holding up a slaughtered hog above his head, offering it for sale to the passing motorists.  We chose to decline his offer.

Shortly before Ladysmith, there was a descent so rapid it caused ears to pop as we left the Highveld for the Lowveld.  Here, the landscape became more mountainous and the trees more plentiful.

As we observed the changes on our journey, it seemed right (if a little clichéd) to reflect on the journey South Africa has come on since my parents lived here more than three decades ago.

They knew the South Africa of apartheid at a time when Nelson Mandela was regarded as a terrorist and the Western world was yet to take notice of a system described by the South African authorities as "good neighbourliness".

Sitting last night in Sandton's (aptly named) Nelson Mandela Square, we were just one of a multitude of races and nationalities enjoying equality in a truly rainbow nation.

While it is clear that vast inequalities still exist - the number of poor, exclusively black townships with sub-standard accommodation we passed today is testament to this - it is incredible how much this country has travelled in the last 20 years since Mandela's release from prison.

One example of that journey was watching crowds of black children walking home from the city's top schools in their blazers and ties.  When my parents lived here thirty years ago, it would have been unheard of for black children to attend such educational establishments, and certainly not to attend the same schools as white children.

There may be a long road yet to travel to achieve complete equality, but as the billboard in Nelson Mandela Square red, "it always seems impossible until it's done".

A land of contrasts

 

Nelson Mandela Square, Sandton, Johannesburg

Tuesday 2nd September

Sandton, Johannesburg

As we followed direction signs for Blairgowrie and Morningside, it would be easy to forget we had just travelled to the other side of the world.

Ahead of us lies a three week journey around South Africa's provinces of Guateng, Free State, KwaZulu Natal, Mpumalanga and North West as well as a sojourn into neighbouring Swaziland.

Thirty years ago, my parents lived and worked here so, although this is the first time I have set foot on South African soil, part of me has always felt a great affinity with this country.  Maybe it was growing up with the music of Ladysmith Black Mombaso or perhaps the braai culture that led to many outdoor childhood meals whatever the weather, but something South African is imprinted on me.  I suspect, in truth, it's the friends my parents made in South Africa whose phone calls and visits punctuated my childhood that made a lasting impression.

That's certainly what we've found in the few hours we've been here - a fantastic bunch of people.  For starters, I've never had so much fun at passport control as when listening to the marriage advice dolled out as part of the service today.  Contrast that with the domineering, no-nonsense matriarchal figure running the car hire desk, or the windscreen washer who, when told we didn't need our screen washed, performed a dance in the street for us instead.

Saddening, then, amidst such fun and characters to have found such a dependence on guns.  We're staying in one of Jo'burg's wealthy suburbs, and armed security guards are routinely employed to protect each person's own little bubble.

Saddening, too, the divide that exists between rich and poor.  Running along the east side of wealthy Sandton is the M1 road, the other side of which likes Alexandra, one of South Africa's poorest townships.

It's difficult to reconcile the lavish spending on armed security to protect a leafy suburb while overlooking such poverty.

This certainly seems like a land of contrasts...

Going Commando

A load of balls...

Facebook and twitter are usually full of people talking pants, but today you might have noticed they're talking no pants, as lots of us shed our undies and go commando to help raise awareness of male cancers.

Men are notoriously bad at talking about their health, but it seems this is particularly so when it comes to concerns in the underwear department.  We may be great at moaning about blisters and backache, but bums and balls rarely feature on the conversational agenda.  It seems us guys spend half our life playing with them, and the other half pretending they don't exist.

I say all this somewhat hypocritically.  A number of years ago I found a small lump on one of my testicles, and rather than do anything about it, I simply worried.  

Eventually, years later, I plucked up the courage to visit my GP and get it checked out.  Clearly not an occasion I was looking forward to, it really wasn't that bad.  The doctor invited me to find the lump, had a quick feel and referred me for an ultrasound scan.  This was also far less embarrassing than I imagined.  Maintaining as much modesty as possible with a carefully positioned towel, the scan was over in an instant and the technician was able to show me there and then that everything was normal.  I left wondering why I had spent years worrying when it was so simple to have it checked out.

Until today, no-one knew any of this.  If I'd been to get my lungs or kidneys checked, it would have been an acceptable topic for conversation, but because it involved testicles, I somehow felt the need to keep it under wraps.  Today, it's time for that to change.  Testicular cancer is 100% curable if caught early, so it's time we ended the taboo and started talking openly about how to look after our balls.  It's time our private parts became public, conversationally speaking of course.

That's why thousands of people are going commando today and encouraging our fellow men to talk about and to check their balls, prostates, bowels and moobs.  Visit malecancer.org to find out more.

Go on.  Get 'em off for the lads:

Reading List

Each year, Broadland MP Keith Simpson publishes the "Foreign Office Reading List" - a selection of books he thinks are worth a read in the year ahead.

While I doubt our lists would cross paths very often, I thought that a good start to the new year would be to recommend these good reads for 2014:

Luke Paul and the Mosque

Finlay AJ MacDonald, Shoving Leopard Productions 2013

Luke Paul, a fictional Church of Scotland minister, first appeared at the height of the Kirk's Special Commission on Same Sex Relationships and the Ministry.  Here, Luke returns ahead of this year's report on the Church's work with other faiths.

Luke finds himself on an interfaith pilgrimage to Israel/Palestine as Christians, Jews, Muslims and Baha'i shared with each other the places and the stories of their faith.  Following this, and nudged by his local Guild, he engages his parish in dialogue with the local Mosque through a series of public meetings exploring Christianity and Islam.

Through a simple plot focussed on the relationships between the characters, Luke Paul and the Mosque explores all of the issues, joys and problems raised by the way the church relates to other faith communities.  Finlay's gentle writing style combined with his own experience on the Scottish Interfaith Council makes this a very informative, thought provoking but easy to read book.

Easy Go

Michael Crichton (writing as John Lange), Open Road Media 2013

When I was 13, I read Crichton's The Andromeda Strain and instantly acquired an appetite for everything this man had ever written.  Crichton's well researched, scientific, believable style of writing is right up my street, and he fast became my favourite author.  (One of his books will feature in my '5 books that changed my life' if I ever get round to finishing in.)

The trouble is, I very quickly read all his books, and following his death in 2008, that meant I had run out of Crichton to read.

Imagine, then, my joy to discover that in his days as a medical student, he published a series of novels under the pseudonym John Lange, and that these have just been published as a series of ebooks called The Med School Years.

Easy Go is one of these books, following the tale of an Egyptologist who discovers a previously unknown tomb filled with treasures, and embarks on an attempt to steal these from under the nose of the Egyptian Antiquities Service.  Action packed but very realistic, this is one of the best short reads I've ever come across, and right to the last page keeps turning up surprises.

Children's Ministry that Fits

David Csinos, Wipf and Stock Publishers 2011

One of the greatest encouragements in recent years has been the way in which the spirituality of children has begun to be taken seriously.  Building on the work of academics like Rebecca Nye, David Csinos embarked on a study of the spiritual development of a group of children.

In this study, he found that a child's spirituality tends to one of four dominant styles: word, symbol, emotion or action.  In Children's Ministry that Fits: Beyond One-Size-Fits-All Approaches to Nurturing Children's Spirituality, he explores what that means for those of us engaged in work with children.

Last September, I spent a day exploring the findings of this research with a group of fellow writers and practitioners and we are all extremely excited by the possibilities this book presents.

Csinos's second book Children's Ministry in the Way of Jesus was published on the 20th December 2013, and I'm sure will be one to add to this list in due course.

The Woman Who Died a Lot

Jasper Fforde, Hodder & Stoughton 2012

Okay, so by recommending this book I'm actually recommending you read seven books, as this is the latest in the series of seven "Thursday Next" books, which you must read in order or your head will explode with incomprehension.

Beginning with The Eyre Affair, these books follow the adventures of Special Operative Thursday Next, a literary detective from an other-worldly Swindon.  Thursday finds herself able to enter the world of fiction, where characters act out the scenes that (via an imagino-transference device) we read as books. As the series progresses, Thursday's life in the real world and in the book world becomes more and more odd, and more and more of a must read.  This seventh book features the attempts to kill off the many fictional clones of Thursday, hence The Woman Who Died a Lot.

This book sits very much on the edge of the Speculative Fantasy genre-village in the book world, so if you can get your head round fictional characters entering the real world, an apprenticeship guided by Miss Haversham and the Cheshire Cat (now the Unitary Authority of Warrington Cat) and the idea the someone could die by "being mirangued" then this series of books will delight, puzzle and entertain you, and leave you laughing out loud while the rest of the train stare.

The eighth in the series, Dark Reading Matter is due to be published in 2015, so that gives you around a year to get up to speed.