I had been promising myself a trip to Africa for years and last year I finally got around to it. Not a lot of planning went into the idea. I completed a course of study just before Easter and during the winter; I kept promising myself that if I succeeded in completing it, I would treat myself to a good holiday as a personal reward. Hence, whilst in Dublin getting copies of the dissertation bound, I booked a flight to Capetown for the following week. It was as simple as that in the end. Subsequently, I paid a visit to the Doctor, got pumped with different concoctions of medication that cost a small fortune and embarked on a course of malaria tabs. I borrowed a rucksack from my sister, bought the Rough Guide to South Africa exchanged punts for rands and set off.

I flew Dublin to Heathrow then Heathrow to Capetown on South African Airways. The thing that struck me about the outgoing flight, apart from the crew, there were no coloured passengers. Prior to departing, I had booked a hotel in Capetown for three days on the Internet . When I told this to a friend of mine who had backpacked around Australia when most of our age group were doing such things, like ten or fifteen or years ago, she suggested that staying at a hostel was a far better option initially as you were much more likely to meet some very interesting people and find out what was worth seeing and what was not. She also pointed out that staying in a hotel room is the same the world over, one hotel room echoes another. Taking this advice, I cancelled the hotel and booked a double en-suite room in a hostel. The idea of sleeping in a dormitory and making trips to obscure lavatories at all hours of the morning looses its appeal when one gets to a certain age, regardless of how much less it costs. There are just some comforts in life one is unwilling to forsake.

The Hostel had provided a pick up service from the airport and the trip to Capetown revealed one of the biggest Black townships that exist in the environs of Capetown and gave one a fleeting glimpse of the sheer poverty that prevails despite the major reform that is ongoing. The city itself appeared to be like all major cities, prosperous and pulsating. The Hostel which was in one of the suburbs was fine -basic but friendly. There, they advise you to take taxis all of the time even to go down town and at the outset, you do as you are told and for the first three days, I expended a small fortune on this necessity. The taxi drivers in fairness, most of them of Indian descent could not be more helpful. For the first three days, I wandered around downtown Capetown, made the trip to Robben Island and learned a lot about the great man that is Mandela and the process that is apartheid. I took the cable car to the top of Table Mountain and spent an afternoon on its plateau wandering about it. A one-day trip around the Cape with fellow backpackers, including a trio to the Cape of Good Hope The highlight of that trip was the sharing a picnic at the Cape with a herd of Oran tangs and visiting Boulder beach which is the natural habitat of the Jack Ass Penguin. Definitely different.

I booked a safari through the hostel and set off on the Sunday evening for an overnight coach trip to Upington in the Northern Cape. I was fortunate enough to get the front seat upstairs. What stuck me about this trip was the absence of traffic on the motorway. You could travel for hours and not meet anything. The journey took eleven hours and at 5.30am on reaching Upington, I was met by the guide and my fellow two companions, one Swiss, the other Dutch and embarked on the safari. Another four-hour journey brought us to the entry to the Kalahari, which straddles Bostawana and Nambia. The Kalahari Gemsbok National Park, which is the size of Switzerland, is totally desolate, has four camping sites and a handful of picnic areas. The vastness strikes you. For the next four days, we drove hundreds of miles around the Kalahari, espying several wild animals and birds such as giraffe, lions, cheetahs, antelopes, eagles and vulture not to mind scorpions and all living in their natural habitat. Because of the presence of the latter you are not allowed out of the vehicles except at the dedicated picnic areas or at the camps in the evening. You must be back in camp by sunset and nobody is permitted to travel after dark. Nighttime safaris in open backed lorries are conducted and this in itself was a brilliant experience. Nocturnal animals and birds litter the landscape and the nighttime sounds provide a fantastic background to star gaze.

The campsites themselves are fairly basic. Our guide cooked our meal (traditional fare) each evening on an open fire. One ate by the light of the campfire. I had never slept in a tent prior to this excursion and this was a feat in itself. Nevertheless, I slept like a log but being up at 5am each morning to be out of the camp by sunrise probably helped. Lights, such as they are, at the communal public conveniences goes out at 10pm sharp and any excrusion in that direction post 10pm is made by torchlight. Camping is a way of life for the wealthier of South Africans and they have it honed to a fine art. The first night on the Kalahari, the place was lit up by spectacular lighting thunderstorm that transformed the whole landscape. Stargazing is an activity that most South Africans who frequent the Safari’s are expert upon. This in itself was a bonus. The price of this little extravaganza was an hour of torrential rain that fell in its aftermath. The tent literally squelched in…

On day 5 we departed the Kalahari and proceeded to the hot springs at Riemvasmaak. This definitely was one of the highlights of the visit. The journey down into the ravine was not for the faint hearted and the final leg of the journey was made on foot. Only six people are allowed enjoy this natural phenomenon at any one time, which adds immeasurably to the experience. Luxuriating in a hot spring as you see the sun seeps out of a massive ravine and darkness descends was one memorable way to spend an evening. Likewise with sunrise. Such beauty even though it necessitated another early morning rise was well worth the effort. That night one slept al fresco under the African skies, well one tried. You cannot help but wonder what creatures most notably insects might chance to visit. This concentrates the mind wonderfully. Interestingly, some natives from the local village were conducting work in the area of the springs and each morning and evening they trekked the eight miles to and from to conduct their work. You were alerted as to their imminent arrival by their…..

By midday it was time to depart after one had explored only part of the ravine. Then on to the Orange River and the Aubergine Falls. The crashing of the water as it plunges some 56 meters from granite onto granite and meanders along a deep, narrow ravine at sunset is also another spectacular site. The following day was spent at the Orange River. River rafting on the Orange River was part of the package, indeed a part o the package that I decided not to cash in as my affinity with aqua pursuits is confined to mere paddling at the waters edge of whatever beach, I happen to be near.

This part of the trip concluded by us reminiscing in an Irish bar at Upington over a couple of Castle beers, before we each went our separate ways.

I thought it would be a good idea to stay in Upington for two days, just to experience a remote African town. Having spent almost a week under canvas, it was also time to pamper the body, so I booked into one of the finer of the three hotels in the town and paid almost sixty pounds for the privilege. The hotel, one of the Protea chain was ok but considering other hotels that I stayed in subsequently, was well over priced. I nevertheless had a great nights sleep and the next morning up and out by 8.30pm. Within fifteen minutes of going down town Upington, I decided it would be a good idea to cut this part of the trip short, but as it was a Saturday, there was no public transport going south that day. The earliest was the following evening at 7pm. Therefore, I had to reconcile myself to two days of enforced rest and relaxation. There was literally nothing to do. One could not even get a taxi to a game reserve only about 10 k’s from the town. To compound matters the town shut down by 12md and within a half an hour it was deserted. It was eerie enough walking about in a deserted town and bearing in mind . I did manage to buy two trashy novels that gave me something to do over the 36-hour period and I found a laundry that was in a position to process the cleaning of my dirty clothes. I had a further difficulty in that my cash reserves were depleted considerably at this stage. While I had plenty of traveller’s cheques, I found that very few places accepted them. The banks were closed until the Monday. So I found myself a hotel around the corner that was half the price of the previous and got to know its balcony quiet well over the afternoon. I found a bar cum restaurant in the evening that accepted visa and passed a few hours there. Again, the Orange River flows through the town. Walking along its banks, I thought to myself that I never saw a more under developed tourist attraction before. The potential to develop Upington as a stay over for tourists before embarking on their safaris or on their route to Namibia, which is only a three-hour journey, offers huge potential.

By the following evening at 7pm, thoroughly bored but rested, I embarked on the bus journey back to Cape Town. Arriving at 6.30am in Cape Town, I had decided to head directly onto the Garden Route, which is east of Capetown. I spent the last few rands on a cup of coffee and a doughnut. The bus departed for Port Elizabeth at 8am and I was on it. Again, the whole process of booking a ticket and boarding a bus and ensuring your luggage is packed away is fierce bureaucratic and cumbersome and eats up time. Your credentials are checked several times while on the bus and as for reclaiming your luggage when you disembark, well that’s a fairly protracted affair. The trip through the garden route is definitely worth taking. While vineyards populate the East Coast, the fertility is the thing that strikes you about the garden route. By midday, I had enough of the bus but I persevered until about 2.30pm when the bus arrived at Plettenberg Bay. I choose this location for the simple reasons that the guidebook recommended it as a nice place to spend some time and I had enough of the bus. I was fortunate just to get a bank before it closed and got some of the cheques cashed. Again, I found a nice hotel and booked in for two nights. I set about discovering the seaside town on foot. Very few white South Africans actually walk anywhere, which is just a bit disconcerting whereas the black South Africans walk almost everywhere, oftentimes covering huge distances. While “Plett” as it is known locally, was quite nice, it also was very touristy and as the guide book said over priced. Nevertheless, I managed to spend two days there waking for miles in and around it, even late in the evening, which is something you would not do in most South African towns.

On the journey back to Cape town which took place in the afternoon and evening, one could not help remark on the huge number of black people existing on foot, the various towns en route and heading to the various townships that are located up to ten miles outside some of the cities. Shared minibuses taxis operate as do open backed pick up trucks and it is not unusual to see the latter laden down with 20 or 30 people. The safety implications are horrendous but it does not seem to bother the driver or the passengers.

Arriving in Cape Town at about 11pm, I took a taxi to a hotel in the centre of Cape town (Long Street). The place was again recommended by the guidebook but while the exterior and lobby looked ok, the room themselves were from another era. Having been dropped off by the taxi and armed with a rush sack, it was time to pay up and shut up. Suffice to say, it was one of these places where you left the bedroom light on all night, put the chair to the door to support the gammy lock, refrained from late night trips to the lavoratory in one nights attire and dozed instead of slept. Up at 6.30am with one objective in mind – to find somewhere clean and comfortable to while away the last couple of days in Cape town. A couple of hundred meters away, I came upon such a haven and booked it foe the next three nights. This small hotel, which was right next door to the Holiday Inn and situated on Greenmarket Square was an ideal location and cheaper than the kip I had subjected myself to the previous night. With my rush sack transferred, it was time to discover Cape town on foot. This I did for the next three days. The markets which were literally on the doorstep provided the main venue for my shopping – touristy kitsch, the bulk of which was conducted in about three hours. I also went back to the Waterfront, but confined my buying and wandered about on the Sunday morning listening to the various musicians and entertainers. On the Saturday evening, I took a taxi to the new Millennium shopping centre- Century City, which is located some miles outside Cape town. This is some shopping centre.

Certain things struck me about Africa:

·Colour dictates everything in South Africa;
·The disparity between rich and poor is enormous;
·The fact that the whole country is not in revolt speaks volumes for the political system that is in existence
·A lot of lessons can be learned from the life and philosophies of Mandela.