Travel Stories

Bus trip from Malawi to Tanzania
By Ayana Haaruun

Diary from South Africa : Bus trip from Malawi to Tanzania an unforgettable journey

Editor’s note: Chicago Defender archivist Ayana Haaruun’s fellowship to South Africa is ending. Here’s her next to last report from the mother Land.

On the bus ride from Malawi to Tanzania, I met the kindest Africans yet, saw the most beautiful landscapes imaginable, and survived a bus ride from hell.
Malawi, a small Southern African country, truly lives up to its slogan “the warm heart of Africa.” I spent a night in Blantyre, a beautiful, clean city nestled between tropical trees and rolling green hills.
Malawians seemed more conservative than South Africans. With a high population of both Muslims and Christians, alcohol was forbidden on the hotel premises. In the city, well-mannered, conservatively dressed men and women gave a respectable and distinguished air. And, the Malawian men seemed kinder, and “less forward” than the South African men.
The next morning, I took a clean, comfortable, air-conditioned coach bus to Lilongwe, Malawi’s capital city. Riding down the highway, the city landscape quickly became a rural, agricultural environment. Just outside the city, small one-room brick homes stood on the sides of mountains. There were miles and miles of green fields, and an occasional single, green mountain peak.
In Lilongwe, my problems began, when a taxi driver took me to an area he called “hell’s row.” “This is a where bad people are,” he mumbled, while driving up a narrow, unpaved road. Standing in the middle of a filthy, crowded area filled with rundown shops was the “seedy” bus station office. Reluctant to leave the taxi, I nervously looked around me. I knew that traveling with a large suitcase and a white woman put me in more danger of being robbed. To make matters worse, the bus company operator said the bus we’d planned to take was fully booked, and that we’d have to wait two days for another bus.
After two hours of standing in “hell’s row” pleading for a safe transport, the bus operator offered us two seats on the bus. As I boarded the old, sub-standard coach bus, I watched the sunset. In the distance, I listened to the evening Muslim call to prayer floating from a beautiful mosque down the road.
Soon after departing, however, the bus broke down. We sat idly alongside a dark road for more than three hours. When the bus finally became functional, the unpaved two-lane highway was so bumpy, I became nauseous. There was no toilet on the bus, nor was there a restroom anywhere we stopped. To relieve ourselves, women passengers had to “squat” together behind bushes or in the open fields.
The next morning near the Malawi/Tanzania border, the landscape was absolutely breathtaking. I was hypnotized by the lush green cliffs and valleys, beautiful rivers, tropical plants and clear skies. Along the road were rectangular one-room brick homes with grass or aluminum roofing built on red dirt. There were banana and mango trees everywhere.
In villages, I saw mostly women working in green fields or fetching water from wells and rivers. I saw men sitting in the shade, tending to cows or sheep, or working in small shops. Children sold fruit picked from local trees.
After about 20 hours on the bus, which continued to break down periodically, I was happy to arrive at the Tanzanian border. The customs office was modern and organized—a sign of Tanzania’s stable economy and valued tourism industry.
At the border, the bus filled with even more passengers. By night, people were literally laying in the aisles. Moving through the bus became a real test of agility and coordination. In the dark, I strategically squirmed down the aisle, tip-toeing around bodies and luggage.
At one point, I heard a strange sound, and looked around the bus. As I expected, on the floor, lay a live chicken. Now I really felt like a fellow villager.
The second day of the bus trip was unbearable. Many passengers began smelling badly, and I was hungry and thirsty. To send a hint, I stared down the stinky guy sitting across from me, while applying excessive amounts of deodorant to my underarms. And, because there was no place to stop for a “real meal” I had eaten only cookies and bananas, carefully rationed between me and my colleague.
After about 30 hours, we finally stopped at a rural Tanzanian hotel with a restaurant, where I demolished a tasty plate of fish, rice and greens.
During the next bus breakdown, I stepped outside the bus to be greeted by sparking stars. There were no other lights. Standing alone on the side of a dusty road in east Africa, I thought about all the inconvenience poverty brings.
Then I realized my colleague and I were alone in our constant complaining. While she deliriously mumbled about her swollen ankles and “shooting herself in the head,” people without seats were quiet. Lying on the floor being walked on, sitting on suitcases or milk crates with babies strapped to their bodies, they were patient and without complaint.
Sure, my 40-hour bus journey from Malawi to Tanzania was a challenging feat that I’m happy to have survived. It’s just miniscule in comparison to what many African people endure everyday.

Mauritius Dive Diary
by Derek Dear

Situation:
Mauritius is difficult to find on a map, as it is a tiny group of tropical islands of volcanic origin in the Indian Ocean about 3,000 kilometres from the coast of Africa. Look for Mozambique on the east coast of Africa, then draw a line out to sea, crossing Madagascar in the middle. Mauritius is about the same sea distance from Madagascar as Madagascar is from Mozambique (i.e. about 800 kms). Flying time from the UK is about 121/2 hours from Heathrow. From South Africa, it is about 41/2 hours from Johannesburg.

Geography:
There are three main islands and several smaller ones which make up the state of Mauritius. Mauritius itself, though not the largest, has the capital, Port Louis. The other two main islands are Reunion and Rodrigues. The island of Mauritius is 58 kms from north to south, and 47 kms from east to west. The island is thought to be the peak of an enormous sunken volcanic chain stretching from the Seychelles in the north to Reunion. The island rises steeply in the south to a central plateau. Beyond the mountains behind Port Louis, the plateau slopes gently down to the northern coast. The mountains are not high, but they do have the gaunt and unusual shapes of peaks formed by volcanic eruption. The island has 330 kms of coastline almost entirely surrounded by coral reefs. Time is GMT+4. We were there during British Summer Time, so the difference was BST+3.

Climate:
Like all tropical islands, there are no well defined wet and dry seasons. The island has rain and therefore colourful vegetation all the year round. Because of the geography of the island, in spite of its small size, climate varies from place to place. The east coast is drier during January and February, when the prevailing winds drive in, hit the mountains and dump rain on the west coast and the central plateau. On the central plateau, temperatures can be up to 5°C cooler than on the coast, and it can be raining up there, while the sun is shining on the coast, and vice versa. The summer weather can be hot and humid (25°C to 37°C) . Winter, from July to September, has temperatures which range from a daytime 24°C to a cool 16°C at night. The prevailing winds can make it seem much cooler. Sea temperatures ranges from 22°C to 27°C.

Language:
English, the official language, is used throughout the education system and government. In spite of this, most people are more comfortable speaking French, which is the main language used by the media, so English and French are the languages of the business classes.

Currency:
The currency is the Mauritian Rupee (Rs) which is divided into 100 cents. At the time we were there, the exchange was about Rs30 to ?1 sterling.

Dive One
I arrived at the Boathouse at 11.45, which was not quite enough time to prepare. There were seven guests (including me) and three members of staff going to dive, as well as the boatman. The boat, a shallow draft speedboat, was taken carefully along the lagoon and out through the gap in the reef. Then I discovered how they really go! The boatman opened up the throttle and we planed our way across the ocean for about fifteen minutes. The dive plan was for an easy dive to not more than seventeen metres. This would allow me to check things out. My buddy was a Mauritian boy, Benito, who didn't seem to believe in buddy checks and was keen to get into the water. I insisted that we did a check, while hanging onto the anchor line. We were supposed to have an Italian man with us, but we didn't catch up with him till about three quarters of the way through the dive!I pulled myself down the anchor line through clear, warm water to a barren seabed, clearing my ears on the way. We swam over to some gullies and rock formations, where the fish gather. I saw some pale blue parrot fish and red squirrel fish with their V-shaped tail fins, each about fourteen inches long. The squirrel fish's gills are a long spine shape, and these are venomous. It isn't a good idea to get too close to these. The poison carried by the mature fish is called ciguatera, and doesn't do one any good at all. There were butterfly fish and puffer fish, about four inches long, with vivid blue spots. Suddenly, I noticed Benito grabbing his equipment and pointing energetically. At first, I didn't know what he was doing, then I realised he was trying to show me something in a gully that was about two and a half feet wide, and equally deep. I peered in, and saw a stone fish, an ugly beast with indeterminate brown-ish colouring. This is one fish we are all warned to keep away from, as his poison can be fatal. A starfish lay quietly close by. There was very little coral, but lots of big, slow-moving fish, about ten inches long, which didn't bother to move away from us. An odd 'plopping' sound attracted my attention. I looked round for my buddy, and found him lying on his back, blowing 'air rings' towards the surface, as an old man might blow smoke rings from his pipe. It was obviously his party trick, and we were suitably impressed. My own air consumption was very good in the clear waters and a very slight current. After thirty-five minutes, I signalled that I had just 70 bar of air, and we ascended. I thought Benito took it a bit fast, and took my time, carefully watching my gauge. On the surface, I was picked up by the boatman, and just missed seeing a sting ray. It was a fast trip back to the hotel, during which the three Mauritians complained that the water had been cold. I kept my thoughts to myself, but as my computer had registered 23 degrees at 18.9 metres, I had been happy. What would they make of the North Sea in the spring? It was an enjoyable dive."

Dive Two
Today we went to Snake Ramparts, which is one of the furthest dive sites, and not a place for novice divers. We were on our way by 8.55. When we arrived, the boat was anchored on a sandy bottom and we descended to 25 metres. There was a slight current, and we finned slowly against it towards a small circular mound of coral rock, about 50 metres across and standing about a metre high, with gullies cutting it through. I had the Aquashot II with me. My buddy (one of the dive school team, whose name is spelled Benoit, but who is known as Benito) had a camera and light system with him, and this worked very well - he took his photos, then kept the light trained so I could take mine! There was a lot to see, and a lion fish, moray eel and stone fish were so close together that I tried to frame them all in the same picture. Three brown striped lion fish swam lazily past, and we saw two stonefish together. I lay quietly on the bottom and a lion fish came very close. There were several Moray eels, ranging in size from white babies of 15 centimetres, to yellow ones to a large brown one who had about a metre of his length extending from his lair. I watched as one held his mouth open while a tiny blue fish swam in and out, cleaning as it went. A shoal of small black and white striped fish, about 10 centimetres in length moved about under a rock in such a dense ball-shaped group that it looked like moving coral. I was slightly under weighted, and as I used air, found I was being bumped about a bit. It wasn't a long dive because it was quite deep, and my lack of weight meant I needed to be careful not to ascend too fast, but I took twelve photos today, and enjoyed the dive. Met and dived with a very pleasent Swiss Couple called Doris and Rolf, they dived as a buddy pair, but before and after the dive were always ready to talk about what we had all seen and we still send post cards to each other from our Dive trips six years on.

Dive Three
My buddy was Daniel Tan, a young man from Singapore. The plan was to complete my twentieth dive since qualifying as a sports diver. The dive, in an area known as 'Little Switzerland', began with a descent of the anchor line. I cleared my ears on the way down. We left the line at twelve metres and swam a short way to a drop off to twenty-three metres. The sea bed was barren and sandy, the marine life being found among the overhangs and gullies that give the place its name. I had trouble with the camera, till I remembered that the Fuji film winds differently from the Kodak one. We explored some caves, caverns and chimneys. Daniel pointed out a large lobster and I managed to photograph an angel fish and a damsel fish before we ascended through a chimney and sat on a ledge. I kept checking where Daniel was, as he seemed quite happy for me to lead him along. As we ascended, we checked out more caverns and chimneys. My air consumption was good, while several others were onto reserve as we swam slowly in the direction of the boat before making a controlled ascent to the surface. It was a pleasant, peaceful dive."

Dive Four Night Dive!
&The dive school policy is that they don't take anyone who hasn't dived with them before, and that they go to a place that the divers have visited in daylight. The plan was to do a dive of a maximum depth of twenty metres, and a maximum time of twenty-five minutes at the Aquarium site. The last two night dives had been cancelled because of the danger of bringing the boat back over the reef in the dark when the tide is low. Benito likes a small group, and four of us had booked. Only two of us, Peter and I, went, as the other couple had been involved in a minor road traffic accident. No-one was hurt, but the paperwork for these things takes forever. On Benito's last dive, there were six people. He told them to stay close and do exactly what they were told (normal briefing!) but two of the women stuck to him like glue.Peter was an experienced diver. He had done twenty-five dives (I've done thirty-two), but he had never done a night dive before. While we waited at the site for the moon to rise, Benito gave us a careful and thorough briefing on the plan and the use of torches. Benito had brought torches for us, and said he would take the big one. I had my own, and we checked it out. It was much better than the one he was offering. I took the camera, too. By 7.15, the moon was up, and we dropped into the water, leaving the boatman to a lone vigil. We went down the line to twelve metres, then swam for about twenty metres till we came to a drop down to twenty metres. I was amazed at the power of my torch in the clear water, as I've only used it in murky British waters up till tonight. About ten minutes into the dive, I realised that I was gulping at my air. There is an acute embarrassment factor if a diver cuts short the dive for the others because he's been daft like this, so I consciously slowed and steadied my breathing and checked my gauge. In spite of the gulping, I was doing all right. I saw a baby lion fish, and as we swam over the overhang, a blue parrot fish, fast asleep under a rock. We saw three about the same size - about thirty inches long. The largest I've seen in the daytime has been a third of that size. A huge hermit crab waved its tentacles at us. All the little fish, like the butterflies and damsels were gone to bed. Benito led, with Peter behind me. Benito was just rounding a corner, when suddenly, he signalled to us to stop. He called Peter forward, then me, and pointed out a strange fish, about a metre long. With black and grey colouration, it had a deep, boxy-shaped head which was a quarter of its body length in height, with a high, flat forehead. Its body tapered away rapidly. After we'd had a good look at this odd creature, I took a photograph. The next thing was a large crab, about forty-five centimetres across. He had huge claws. None of us wanted to come to close to those imposing appendages! We stayed down an extra five minutes, as we all had plenty of air. Benito then signalled for us to switch off our torches, so we could appreciate the bioluminescence. This is a common thing in tropical waters, and most people call it phosphorus. It is caused by a variety of things. Jellyfish and algae contribute, as well as some of the worms and plankton. If the plankton is seriously disturbed, it gets annoyed, and responds by lighting up, creating a constellation of bright, winking lights. We were to do a controlled ascent without lights, to get the best from the natural lights, and it was like ascending in a snowstorm. I knew I would feel a little disorientated, so I put out my hand and clasped hold of Benito and we came up together. I was pleased to note that in spite of my earlier gulping, I had plenty of air left. Back on the boat, I felt a little cold to begin with. I rubbed myself with my towel, put on my blue cagoule and was soon warm, but Peter and Benito were shivering. I lent Peter my dry towel, as he didn't have one. As we made our way back, we were accompanied by a shoal of flying fish, which swam just ahead of us, their bodies flashing in the moonlight. The boatman used a powerful torch to help him find the two poles which mark the gate to the reef. We crossed safely, but the boat scraped the bottom of the lagoon at times as we crawled slowly along towards the hotel jetty.Benito also told Peter and Derek that a man has to check the lagoon every day for scorpion fish. These hide in the sand, and only their eye or a fin can be seen. This is another reason, besides the sea urchins, that it is important to wear shoes when swimming in the lagoon.

Dive Five
We dived Cathedral Rock today. My buddy was Benito. When we arrived at the dive site, we dropped over the side and pulled ourselves to the anchor rope along a roped buoy, because the current was very strong. We descended to ten metres. The current was so strong that we helped ourselves over the seabed using our hands till we came to the drop-off. Benito went over the drop, and I followed. We went down to twenty-eight metres. Our air consumption was high because of the conditions in the water. We found Cathedral Rock. It is an arched rock which is the home of lots of spider crabs. We dived through the arch, which is where we all were grazed by the coral, because of the strong surge. It was at this point that I discovered that blood looks dark green at this depth. As I caught sight of it, it made me feel quite odd, till I realised everyone else's looked the same. We ascended through the cave where a moray eel lives. This was an elderly specimen who has obviously been around a long time. I wasn't able to take any photos, as I needed both hands to steady myself. We also saw lots of coral groupers in the crannies and overhangs of the rocks. Benito was running low on air, so we ascended after twenty-five minutes. This was a hard dive, and the first where I haven't seen a lion fish, but it was worth it to do the drop-off and see the moray eel. When we were back on the boat, I found that the rest of the group had worse cuts and grazes than I did.

Dive Six
We dived on the wreck of the Kai Sai, opposite Flic en Flac. The anchor line was dropped and we descended slowly down it towards the large wreck. It was a deep dive, and I was buddied with Thierry, the dive school boss, who knew it was my first dive over thirty metres. The line was caught up on the superstructure at twenty-five metres, so we waited while it was disentangled before going deeper . We sank towards the deck, and I watched as my computer showed me numbers I haven't seen on it before. At thirty-two metres I felt fine, because conditions were good, visibility was unlimited and I had a firm area to rest on. Thierry showed us around the deck area before moving us on to view the ship from the bow. I saw large fish and small nudibranches and peered into the hold. We didn't go inside. The plan was a maximum dive of seventeen minutes or 70 bar, and soon Thierry signalled to us to ascend. I went up the line hand over hand until I reached six metres, and felt in control. I then hung in the water to do my three minute decompression stop while the anchor was hauled up. This deep dive was made easy because Thierry was a good buddy and conditions were so good.

Dive Seven
We dived at Rempart Park, close to Rempart Serpent. My buddy was Peter, who came on the night dive. We descended the anchor line, and I wasn't aware of a need to clear my ears. We finned slowly along, and I was able to take some photographs. Peter was waving his arms around all over the place, and using a lot of air, so I signalled to him to fold his arms. He did for a while, then forgot, so I told him again. I saw a large sweetlips, a large angel fish and a large group of yellowish-grey fish that I didn't recognise (they were not goatfish). We went into a cave where there were a lot of lobsters. As we left the cave, Benito saw a sixty centimetre long anemone, with soft spines. He picked it up and threw it to me to look at it. It looked rather like an elongated sea cucumber. I gave it back to Benito, and he carefully put it down in the same spot. After finning slowly along the coral cliff, Peter was running low on air, so Benito signalled for us to ascend. Peter went up very fast, but I caught him, and made him go more slowly. He looked puzzled, so I showed him the arrow on my dive computer. He still looked puzzled, but stayed with me, and we did a one minute decompression stop at six metres. Back on Sundiver, Peter told me he has never seen a dive computer before. He said, "Why did you go so slowly? Benito was already on the surface." "Benito is responsible for himself. My computer told me we should go more slowly and make a stop, so I did. It's the way I've been trained." Peter seemed happy enough with this explanation. I enjoyed this dive. It was easy, I felt completely in control and it was a pleasant way to end my diving in Mauritius.

South Africa to Kenya by Train and Boat
by Matz Lonnedal Risberg

INTRODUCTION
For as long as I can remember, I've always dreamt of making six Transcontinental journeys, and when I write journeys I do not mean jumping from one spot to another by aeroplane - I mean travelling. The first one was to go by the TransSiberian Railway to Vladivostok and from there to Japan. The second one was to take a steamer to North America and go by the "Canadian" from the Atlantic to the Pacific. The third one was to go to Beijing, through Mongolia one way and Manchuria the other. The fourth one was to go all the way through Africa down to Cape Town, including riding the famous "Blue Train". The fifth one was to go to Alaska and the sixth one was to go to Singapore overland.
Like Cecil Rhodes I had the dream of going by rail, or at least overland, from Cairo to the Cape. That has never been possible in my lifetime; border crossings between African countries has always been tricky, with several ones closed at any time and there has never been public transport across the Sudanese/Ugandan border. The Sudanese Civil War makes it less advisable to travel through the country. But with the help of freight ships, my fourth dream journey became my sixth and last to fulfil (counting my South America trip in 1999 as a substitute for an Alaska journey). As in 2001 I went by a freighter from Lisbon to Cape Town and Port Elizabeth, by train around in South Africa, to Maputo and all the way from Cape Town to Dar-es-Salaam and the Victoria Lake, by boat to Zanzibar and Mombasa, by train again to Nairobi and then by freighter from Mombasa to Fos-sur-Mer in France.
Just like when going to South America in 1999 the ships agent, Kapitän Peter Zylmann, nearly ruined my journey, as he booked me on a ship leaving Lisbon 18th April and scheduled to arrive Cape Town approximately at 3rd or 4th May, and not telling me until very late, although I one year in advance had told him I absolutely had to be in Cape Town not later than 5th May. Luckily enough the passenger (owner's) cabin on the ship ahead was free and I could board the m.v. "Grey Fox" in Lisbon 4th April. The ship I originally was booked on, the "Amber Lagoon", was late and did not arrive to Cape Town before I left by "The Blue Train" 7th May!!

THE BEGINNING
My train trip from Oslo to Lisbon was my first journey ever from the Scandinavian peninsular to the Continent of Europe without using a ferry on any part. Ten years earlier I could have travelled by train from Oslo to Lisbon only changing trains in Copenhagen and Paris. But that journey would have lasted four nights and three days. Now I had to change at seven stations; Hallsberg, Mjölby, Malmö, Copenhagen, Cologne, Paris and Irun, but was able to make the trip in 52 hours.
The journey on "Grey Fox" was the most enjoyable freight ship journey I have made so far; the cabin being the biggest and nicest I've ever met on a ship and the Polish captain and crew extremely nice and friendly. On board we celebrated Polish Easter, which is nearly as special as Scandinavian Yule. The weather on the Canary Islands, which we passed between, was surprisingly bad in April.

FIRST STEP ONTO THE SHORES OF AFRICA

The ship called into Walvis Bay in Namibia, where I went off and strolled around and wouldn't have needed the visa I had got in advance. Wednesday 18th April the ship got an order to call into Port Elizabeth after Cape Town, to take some empty containers to Richardsbay. I thought it could be fun to have rounded the Cape of Good Hope and asked if I could prolong my journey. The immigration authorities in South Africa didn't mind that, however stamped my entrance in Cape Town and regarded the Cape Town - Port Elizabeth journey as a domestic one, and the ships company macs let me continue without extra costs.
However we arrived in Cape Town Thursday 19th and I went off with my main luggage and stayed one night at Breakwater Lodge, where I also kept my main luggage during my two weeks round trip in South Africa. I had a lovely Friday visiting Table Mountain - which was impossible to do when I came back to Cape Town two weeks later. Friday night I went to town together with some of the crew members, and Saturday we left Cape Town for Port Elizabeth, docking Sunday evening. Next day I took the train to Johannesburg, the commuter train to Pretoria, where I found a lovely hotel, in which I pre-booked a room for my visit two weeks later and then went by the night train to Komatipoort.

TO MOZAMBIQUE AND AROUND IN SOUTH AFRICA

South African trains are not very comfortable but have mostly excellent dining cars. My train to Komatipoort was six hours late, which enabled me to see and photograph the spectacular mountainous landscape that the train normally passes through in the middle of the night. According to the Thomas Cook Overseas Timetable there was supposed to be 1st and 2nd class air-conditioned coaches to the Mozambique capital Maputo. There were only 3rd class cars. I was definitely the only non-local passenger on that train. As the train from Johannesburg was six hours late nobody really knew when the Maputo train was supposed to depart. Suddenly the Mozambique engine driver blew the horn and went off. Passengers outside the train yelled and tried to run after and on the train but he just accelerated and they never got on.
Maputo railway station
At the Mozambique border the immigration officer demanded ZAR 12 (around US$ 1.60) from everybody to stamp their passports (I had already paid US$ 65 for my Mozambique visa in Lisbon). This was enough for some passengers not to have the fare (also ZAR 12) for the train journey to Maputo. It was a fascinating journey through remote villages on an extremely bad railway track, where 40 km/h felt dangerously fast. Maputo has the most beautiful railway station in Africa, but the railyard reminded me of Sarajevo's half a year earlier. Both railyards were filled with damaged rail coaches out of use. In Maputo I stayed at the Hotel Avenida, which charged US$ 120 for a single room. You get a better room for ZAR 300 (US$ 40) in South Africa.
Next day I went back the same way and by the night train from Komatipoort to Johannesburg, from where I went to East London. The drunken Boer (Afrikaner) that was in my compartment had a gun inside his trousers' waist, luckily enough he left the train the same evening.
Just as Chile and Argentina in 1999 had surprised me by being much more European and much less North American than I had expected, South Africa disappointed me by being the opposite. It is nearly impossible to be a pedestrian in the country, and a lot of towns are as ugly as American towns. East London is one of them. However standard is extremely high and prices very low on lodging, food and drinks in South Africa. After having spent the weekend in East London I went to Johannesburg again - spent the day at the Johannesburg railway station, as the city is regarded one of the most dangerous in Africa and has little to offer the tourist - and then caught the night train to Durban. Durban is a fascinating city, a melting pot of different cultures, and the only South African city I really liked, besides Cape Town.
From Durban I took the 36 hours through train to Cape Town. Again a drunken Boer in my compartment made the first night unpleasant, so I changed compartment the next morning. The two drunken Boers I met on South African trains were the only persons on my entire African journey that were unpleasant.
Back in Cape Town Friday 4th May it rained cats and dogs. Saturday I took a tour of the city on my own and Sunday I participated on a tour to the Cape of Good Hope, also watching wild penguins, ostriches and baboons. I really liked Cape Town and had some marvellous food there, as elsewhere in South Africa, like venison, ostrich, crocodile, calamari and lobster.
LUXURY ON THE BLUE TRAIN Monday 7th May I boarded "The Blue Train"; the world's most comfortable train, running after schedule. It lived up to it's reputation - Excellent service, comfortable sleeping compartments with bath tubs, comfortable lounge cars, excellent dining car and everything included. "Even the cigars?", I asked. "Yes." "Do you have Havana cigars?" "We have nothing less, Sir." But it is amazing how the South African railways have managed to make this train into the worldwide known and popular train it is, as it runs from Cape town to Pretoria, which is not a very exciting city although being the country's capital and through a landscape that is not nearly as spectacular as neither the North American, the Norwegian nor the West Chinese.
I arrived Pretoria 26 hours later where I stayed at the wonderful Victoria Hotel, a very cozy and fine, old hotel opposite to the railway station, where you however should not walk outside after dark (which applies to most African towns and cities). In Pretoria I took out the money for my onward journey, so from there I carried US$ 6 600 in cash on my body, as I had got the information that cards were more or less impossible to use in Zambia or Tanzania. As it is so totally unwise to run around with that amount of money in cash on yourself nobody expects you to do it, and I didn't loose a cent of it, having hidden it in three different bags under my clothes and in my wrist belt. Next day I went to Pilasenberg National Park, where I saw lions, giraffes, elephants, buffaloes, baboons and zebras.
Thursday I went on "The Blue Train" again, this time taking a two day journey to Victoria Falls. In Bulawayo we went on an excursion and picnic. When we returned we were given the news that "The Blue Train" had derailed, trying to turn at the railyard. For a short while it looked like they would substitute the rail trip for a bus journey already that night and I panicked. But we were put at the Holiday Inn Hotel, hoping that "The Blue Train" could continue the next morning. It couldn't, and the rest of the passengers were taken by bus to Victoria Falls in the morning. I spent the entire day on "The Blue Train" at Bulawayo station, being served an excellent lunch, drinks and Havana cigars when I was not photographing the "NRZ Garrat" engine, that was shifting on the railyard, until the ordinary train from Bulawayo to Victoria Falls left that evening. Boarding that train I was followed by four of "The Blue Train" staff carrying my luggage and bringing a plate with cheese and fruit, a bottle of white wine, a bottle of sect and two Havana cigars. At Bulawayo station I was asked by a local for South African newspapers; press freedom was not highly valued in Zimbabwe at the time. In the papers on the train we could read that the Western embassies had decided not to evacuate their citizens yet! At the petrol stations long queues could be seen.

>> Read more about South Africa to Kenya by Train and Boat