A big rust-removal exercise; Eighteen months based within a stone’s throw from the breakers had rusted the 3yr-old camper’s weak points. Replacement with stainless steel was called for. Hinges, clasps, washers, hoist hooks, etc. New struts to lift the roof; Some sandblasting and powder-coating; A new Brad-Harris electric point; Removal of a slide-out washbasin setup; And back together again as in the feature pic. Gerhard and Vincent and team at AHA did us proud.
Next project a new windscreen and some major rust removal for the 17yr-old Ford.*
~~oo0oo~~
*Done. By PG Glass and Willie the panelbeater on his farm between Mtunzini and Empangeni. Now for a new electric window windup mechanism for the drivers door.
We took the eastern vlei route northwards, from before Mopane camp – the road less travelled. Lemme check the map: It’s the Nshawu waterholes route and leads past the Grootvlei dam and Shibavantsengele viewpoint on the Mocambique border. I loved it. Some open plains and vleis for a change from dense Mopane trees and Mopane scrub. Many herds of zebra and wildebees, some waterbuck, a few impala, and a few huge ele bulls…
Also Chestnut-backed Sparrow-lark on the gravel roads and flocks of Wattled Starling (some in full wattle).
At Shingwedzi, a Hamerkop, a juvenile Little Sparrowhawk hunting, Green Woodhoopoe, Golden-tailed & Bearded Woodpecker, Red-billed & Yellow-billed Hornbill, Arrow-marked Babbler, and a noisy early morning Hooligan’s Robin (actually White-browed Robin-chat),
A Rock Monitor Lizard came to visit Jess at the chalet. She told it to footsack in ruder language than that.
Rescued! After eight days of blissful peace I started worrying. I remembered the long spanner I need to free my spare wheel from under the bakkie is in the camper in Pretoria. A flat would leave me stranded. I approached a sensible fellow Ford Ranger driver who is headed out on a wilderness walk tomorrow and he rescued me in a jiffy. Now I have a dusty spare wheel inside the cab where I can get to it, the nuisance of its bulk almost guaranteeing I won’t have a flat.
Jessie followed the route of all (OK, this) weevil, calling me across to photograph it. She then bravely also took pics with my camera’s super-macro. In my pic you may notice the bugs eyes are wider cos there was a lot of wheezing in getting down on my knees.
A pair of Bennett’s Woodpeckers foraged right outside our chalet.
That’s it. After ten lovely nights in Kruger we’re on our way home.
We followed the right bank of the Letaba south-eastwards towards Olifants camp, driving with the flow then hit the left bank of the Olifants, flowing even browner and more strongly. Now we’re driving against the flow, the confluence of these great Lowveld rivers somewhere behind us.
Four ‘Thunderbirds’ crossed the road (Ground Hornbill), three of them flying up into trees; new antelope seen: Kudu and Nyala.
Twenty five eles came down to drink below me as I drank coffee at the Olifants camp restaurant while Jess had a nap in our chalet. Five wandered back into the bush while the big Ma led the others, including smallies, across the wide and swiftly flowing Olifants river. Lovely to watch the crossing. Every now and then a little one would disappear underwater and the rest would wait till they found their footing and emerged again, trunk held high.
Tracking & Signs of the Wild
Signs of carnage on our stoep! A kill? Looks like a big eagle caught an old grey and white goat and plucked out all it’s fur.
Oh, hang on, cancel that. I just remembered Jess gave me a haircut. She cuts the parts I can’t see. Back there. Behind me.
Here’s what I see between our bungalow and the neighbours. The arrow points to where Jess is saying, “There, Dad. A snake!”
True’s Bob, thru my Zeiss binnies a beautiful slender snake about 800mm long. Grass snake? Whip snake? I’ll have to look it up. WhattaSpotter is Jess!
Ah, a Sand SnakeYellow-bellied Sand Snake
Psammophis subtaeniatus the Western Yellow-bellied Sand Snake feeds on lizards, frogs, rodents, birds and snakes. One of SAs fastest-moving snakes, he can wikkel! Ours was peaceful as he explored nooks n crannies, freezing motionless if we moved. Emerging from exploring a deep hole, he showed his butter-yellow belly. Amazing coloration: Camo patterns on his upper third, stripes the lower third, and that yellow belly!
We’re back in the Kruger Park as we wait for our camper to be de-rusted. Staying in chalets, to Jessie’s delight.
Late afternoon view across the Letaba from the restaurant stoep.
Restaurant Scops owlet – right above one of the outdoor tables.
Four kingfishers. Here’s the Woodland:
The Letaba eles and squirrels and monkeys were all well-behaved. The daughter not so much when I said Hey, Smile! in the elephant museum.
Lots of tree squirrels in camp. One darting across my path looked different. Turned out to be a Dwarf Mongoose living under the spreading root mass of a palm tree.
Then the peace was disturbed by a flurry of phone calls where we could barely hear each other and a stream of messages I couldn’t reply to. Very poor comms. All were accusing me of getting older on April Fools Day, some using rude language like ‘septuagenerian’ is there even such a thing? Time to move camp…
In Harrismith Pierre told me about local man Willie’s fish n chips shop for our takeaway easy meal. Willie gave me a non-stop rundown on life the universe n everything while his chef did the cooking.
Now I needed white wine and in my hurry to get to the bottle store I looked left, looked right, did not look at my reverse camera monitor – I would have seen it was filled with Toyota Quantum – and reversed right into an innocent taxi parked behind me, smashing his sliding door window to smithereens.
Witnesses to my skill called the driver. He was very nice about it, but said Please Call My Boss, Mr Khumalo. He’s a nice man. Mr Khumalo was indeed a gentleman, he arrived in minutes and showed me where a glass fit place was, just 100m away. In fact right where Pierre’s Dad’s Massey Ferguson and Datsun agency used to be, many moons ago.
The tannie who owned the joint said, Don’t worry I’ll fix it. She ordered a whole new window on her computer and announced, That’ll be R800. I asked, And to fit it? R800 all-inclusive, meneer.
Today, a sudden thought popped into Mom’s head (first time I’ve ever heard this):
I remember when you were little, Lina or Selena was off cos it was Sunday evening and you were washing the dishes. And you said,
“Mom! This is not a job for a little boy.”
Background: As a kid I was certainly spoilt and did very few chores. All my clothes were washed and ironed, my food cooked, my dishes washed, things got done – as if by magic, but actually by Lina Mazibuko and then Selina, and by Judas Thabethe, Anna and Jan Radebe, then July.
So I was probly suffering terribly! The effort! The injustice!
Safeguarding Sound Science combats misinformation, disinformation, and misconceptions about climate change with actual science. In the 7-episode Season One: Climate Change Edition, Mat Kaplan (Senior Communications Advisor of the Planetary Society and former host of Planetary Radio) talks to scientists, teachers, and other experts to explore who’s behind some of the more insidious efforts to…
Zeens has been and gone. She arrived Saturday, we fetched her at the Richards Bay airport and then raided Woolies. We’d heard of the big floods in Natal so it seems we feared famine or being stranded in our cottage on stilts, gazing out, trapped like whats’isname on his ark. We shopped as if we were contestants in a game show, filling a trolley with two suppers and a picnic brekker and lunch. Later we ate like barons at a banquet. Good, filling, easy to prepare food. And dessert.
Saturday afternoon we drove around Umlalazi Nature Reserve, and walked to the beach – a short 100m over the dune on a boardwalk.
Then Sunday we drove about two hours – first north, then west at the Mtubatuba turnoff to iMfolosi, as it’s now spelt.
Found our usual breakfast spot, then the big picnic spot on the Black Mfolosi river for a great lunch.
Not much game, as there’s lots of surface water and the grass is high, the bushes and trees thick with beautiful greenery. But the giraffe, zebra, wild beasts, impala, nyala, wartpigs all looking plump n healthy. Five rhino wallowing. No eles till I worked out a plan to lure them out of hiding. ‘Open the Liquorice Allsorts, Jess. Eles can’t resist the sound of the rustling of Allsorts packets.’ Jess rolled her eyes but within a minute of us chewing the sweets she said, ‘There! On that hillside!’ Just like I said, eight eles as we were leaving.
Action shot: A swallow, a butterfly and some rhino.
Our best – and unusual – sighting was a very large herd of vultures on the hoof. Over a hundred I’d guess, on the ground.
We decided it was a VAN – Vultures Annual Necrofest, something like a funeral undertakers convention, like AVBOB. After they’d done caucussing and some lobbying for more lions in the park, they were going to change into their mournful tuxedos for the dinner and ball that evening. Offal on the menu.
On the way out, an oncoming car waved to attract our attention, then pointed up to the sky. There they were, lots of them, wheeling around lazily in the thermals, doing the Nekhbet waltz at the sky ball.
Hat tip to Jess, sitting quietly in the back: We would not have spotted the vultures or the eles, as both were far away, and me n Zena were nattering about the olden daze; but Jessie’s eagle eyes did.
Another big supper, a good night’s sleep, followed by a Jessie breakfast and then we had to take Zeens back to the metropolis of Richards Bay already. She came in on a 30-seater, but as Jess and I left, a short 737 flew in, so I think Zeens left in a bigger plane.
We were lucky with the weather – not too hot for us, tho Z felt the heat and humidity. We stuck her in the aircon’d room so she got good sleeps. And she’s always welcome – she’s kind to Jess!
In the big Albizia tree outside the kitchen door. Two beautiful Southern Banded Snake Eagles calling loud and animated. Roberts says, ‘Highly vocal, a loud, crowing kok-kok-kok-kwaaa-a-ak, usually at dawn.’ They were also clicking their bills.
I’m drinking my first coffee, I rush to fetch my binocs and get a good look at both, close-up, right above me. The camera! Fetch the lil Canon, but they’re gone.
Luckily they’re really worked up so I can still find them by their calls. One in a neighbour’s tree, one in the big Albizia off our front stoep/deck. Closer, but more hidden in the leaves.
Uncommon to rare resident. Status: Critically Endangered. In South Africa, estimated 25-35 pairs, with ca.20 pairs in St Lucia region, KwaZulu-Natal. That’s just north of where we are, in Umlalazi Nature Reserve.
Wish I’d been sharper, with my photography and in remembering to record their calls! Note to self: Have first cup of coffee earlier.
Twice I heard it coming from the forest in front of my deck. A deep rough short growl. Some sort of animal. Maybe bushbuck can growl too, not just bark? I thought.
Both times a pedestrian was walking past at the time, so maybe it was humans weirdly clearing their throats? Dunno. Mystery noise.
Later around sunset, sipping red wine and scanning around with my binocs I spotted a Palm-nut Vulture right on top of a tall Douglas Fir. Yay! I love it when birds sit still. Time to show off my little camera’s zoom.
The Palm-nut Vulture Gypohierax angolensis is a real Mtunzini special and I hadn’t seen one yet in the seven weeks we’ve been here.
Reading about it on my Roberts Bird Guide app, I suddenly realised that strange call I’d heard this afternoon may have been the vulture! They say, “Call:Deep grah, ahrrrrr call, also grog-grog-grog notes,” so probably.
Told Jess about the bird, showed her the pics and described it’s call. Bladdy terrible child said: Ah, like you when you’re clearing your throat.
No supper for her. Oh wait, she’s cooking tonight . .
Vacation; Holiday; Spans of sea and sand and sun, and fish in the aquarium; That’s a lekker place; For a hol.i.day!
Us Vrystaters went to Durban once on a lekker-by-die-see holiday. Back in the sixties. Oldest sister Barbara got stung by a bluebottle.
Over the years Mom has related the tale often about how the dreaded blue ‘Portuguese Man O’ War’ stung her poor child.
But today it was worse! Things took a more dramatic turn! She told the familiar tale again, and then got to the part where poor Barbara was ‘attacked by the Spanish Armada.’
We’re in Mtunzini in a lovely wooden cottage on stilts in a forest. Lots of birds, Mom.
Well, be careful of the elephants.
Our forest doesn’t have elephants.
Good. The last time I saw elephants in a circus in Harrismith we sat in the high seats back from the circus ring. One of the town’s awfully fancy ladies walked in and sat in the front row at ring level. She was wearing her hair piled up high and her dress cost as much as a small car. Tickey the clown came in carrying two buckets of water. He threw one in the ring, wetting the sawdust, then threw the 2nd bucket straight at fancy madame, who shrieked and dived to the side. It was filled with confetti!
…
Next, we discussed cellphones and telephones:
At 95 Stuart the phone table was a converted hatstand. On the plot outside town – Birdhaven – the phone was fixed onto the wall. I kept a chair next to it to sit on while chatting.
Mrs Rogers from the forestry* phoned one day. You know Mrs Swanepoel, shesaid, We use this party line as a business phone, and your kids are on the line all the time! Terribly sorry Mrs Rogers. It won’t happen again! And I took away the chair so you kids couldn’t stand on it to reach the phone!
Seems I had a deprived childhood.
…
*(actually the pine plantation – plantations are not forests!)
I was camping in Berg n Dal camp in the SE of the park around 8th Feb 2023. It rained quite hard in the night. My AHA camper stayed warm n dry, passing the test, so I was pleased about that!
Steady rain continued while I packed up, aiming north and west for a lon-anticipated visit to a new place.
East at first towards the main N-S road in the park, then North, Headed for Skukuza. On the easterly leg, three sopping wet little lion cubs emerged from the wet grass and crossed the tar road all alone. Hopefully their mother/s were nearby.
Seventeen kilometres South of Skukuza I tried an alternative route a dirt road. The sign said Skukuza 19km, so slightly longer, but the dirst roads always seem more enticing. A few k’s on, a stream crossed the road about 40m wide, shallow except for a section on the far side where the main current ran and I had no way of determining the depth in that 10m strip. I stared a while but then turned back. Discretion. It was still raining steadily.
North of Skukuza toward Tshokwane, all side roads had signs up Road Closed, or branches blocking them off.
The next day 9th Feb, I got to Kai and Mandy’s lodge in Jejane, on land bordering Kruger Park – and open to the park, fences down – on the east side. What a beautiful place, that I had heard of years and was visiting for the first time.
We heard the next morning that Tshokwane got 340mm in 10hrs the next day! Whoa! That’s buckets!
More and more roads were closed, then camps were closed . .
Then the whole KNP closed – A rare occasion!
Within a day or two they started re-opening section by section, bridge by bridge and camp by camp.. .. I enjoyed a great stay at Jejane, leaving on the morning of the 13th.
When Aitch and I were dating I got invited to a farewell party in Westville. Mike Coppinger and Jumbo Williams were leaving for Zambia to hop onto the Zambezi and kayak their way to the Indian Ocean and they needed a bunch of fellow kayakers to drink them on their way.
We met there after work and it was a festive opskop with a lot of hooligans in a well-stocked pub. After a few pints I took control of the situation and demonstrated who was in charge by casually suggesting to Aitch that we leave my car there and she drive me home at the end of this excellent jol as I could see it was going to be a big one. Then she could give me a lift back to my car in the morning.
Well . .
She looked me dead in the eye and ordered two beers. Proceeded to say Me Too whenever I had another, something she really was not actually equipped to do. Soon she was rather wobbly and as I had also had a few, we decided to call a taxi and leave both cars behind.
Gave me a hard time that one for the full twenty six years I knew her.
Mom says sadly that she was reading Rex Harrison’s biography when her maculae gave in. So she never got to finish it.
She laughs about his song in My Fair Lady, Never Let a Woman in Your Life – ‘AND,’ she says, ‘He was married four times!’ I can tell you didn’t finish that book, Mom. I looked up his Wikipedia entry. It was actually SIX times.
…
Me the Driver – Mom tells of a time I got behind the wheel of Marie Bain’s car and my big mate and younger sidekick – Marie’s grandson or grandnephew – Gareth Taylor, sitting in the back, leapt into the front seat crying, I Don’t Wanna Die! Mom and Sylvia had a good laugh at his dramatics and sense of humour. I was too young to drive then but was always mad keen; I’d sit for hours in all our various cars – Annie’s beige 1949 Chevy Fleetline, our beige Morris Isis and light blue VW Beetle, our faded dark blue kombis, Annie’s green and white Opel Rekord – going thru the gears operating the clutch and gearshift. I can almost ‘see’ Marie’s car but can’t quite remember what it was. I imagine this probably happened outside Herano Hof in Stuart Street, where Smollie and Marie lived then.
Smollie walked with a stoop and had stiff legs. I remember him getting into the passenger seat was quite a performance. The seat had to be well back so he could swing his straight legs in.
…
First Piano – an Otto Bach? – Mom bought her first piano from Marie for 100 pounds. Paid for it from the money Annie paid her to do the Caltex garage books. Central Service Station in Warden Street. Corner of Southey Street. Opposite Barclays Bank, Freddies Grocers and the Town Hall. Diagonally opposite the Deborah Retief Gardens – the village square. Next door to the VC Cafe in Southey St, next door to the Portuguese Grocers in Warden Street. Annie’s complex consisted of her Caltex filling station, the Flamingo Cafe, the Platberg Bottle Store and the workshop behind her office off the forecourt. In years gone by it was known as Caskie’s Corner – her mom-in-law, Granny Bland was a Caskie.
Older sister Barbara has just (2025) renovated a wooden cupboard which was Annie’s mechanic At Truscott’s tool cupboard for Volkswagen tools only! It was painted Caltex green (as were many things around us – even the horse trough).
…
Scotty her English teacher – Miss Helen Scott – recommended they read Absolom! Absolom! by Wm Faulkner “so of course we didn’t,” she says ruefully. Rebel Mary.
Then a few years later, she found another Faulkner book, The Sound and the Fury, in the library at the Boksburg & Benoni hospital, and on night duty she and her nurse took turns reading it to each other.
…
Firecrackers – I asked if she’d heard fireworks last night – New Year’s Eve. Yes, even she couldn’t sleep! That reminded her: In Harrismith as schoolgirls ca.1945, Mom and Sylvia bought sparklers and wheels. She thinks for New Year or Guy Fawkes. They put them in a shoebox. They were planning to set them off at Granny Bland’s back gate. There were a few visitors who gathered there.
Suddenly they all went off at once – the whole box! Sepp de Beer had decided to light the lot!
…
A Concert for the Troops! – At their grandad’s Royal Hotel, Mom and Sylvia decided to give a concert to ‘raise money for the troops.’ They charged a penny each to watch. Mom played the piano, Sylvia danced and they both sang. She thinks they raised enough money to maybe get some troops as far as Kenya. ‘Maybe a shilling’!
I said, That may have made the difference to win the war. That cracked her up.
…
The English Visitor – A regular annual guest at the Hotel was a Mr Lewis from England. He came for two months every year to escape the harsh English winter. His room was upstairs looking towards the railway station. While he was there, all kids were banned from going up the beautiful wooden staircase. And – There was to be be dead silence from 2 to 4pm every afternoon! Mr Lewis was having his nap! One day he stormed out onto the pavement in his pyjamas and berated a local lady who had been talking to her friend across the road at Kathy Bain Reynolds’ garage! How dare she converse in seSotho while he was out from England!
The Garage across from the Royal – which can be seen in the photos of Oupa Bain’s funeral procession was owned by Jack Reynolds, a handsome man, say Mom. He was married to Kathy Bain, and when he died early – after having bad lung problems and going blind – Kathy took over the running of the garage, just as Annie had when Frank died. So two intrepid Bain ladies ran garages in Harrismith.
…
Dances in the Harrismith Town Hall – There was no alcohol you know. People would go across the gardens to the Central Hotel for a drink. Oh, I asked, Would they carry their drinks back across the gardens to the dance?
No, they’d bring them in their stomachs.
The dentist’s (Dr __) mechanic and his wife were wonderful dancers. But after a few trips they – Would dance even better? I suggested, dancing being one of the reasons I drink.
