Home Away from Home

« Return to South Africa

The tour concluded by driving through the streets of a quasi-abandoned downtown Johannesburg. Unfortunately, this was the closest I came to visiting the core of what was once a thriving CBD, and is now a bustling, chaotic glimpse of real Africa. Many of the skyrises stand empty, and some areas are truly off limits. The government has announced a plan to rehabilitate the CBD so that it once again becomes the core of the city, a project they expect will take until 2030. Where the country will be in 25 years is anyone’s guess, but chances are the commercial and residential growth will continue north, as Whites and Blacks favour luxury and security over neglected buildings of the past. As it stands, immigrants from Nigeria, Congo, Mozambique and Zimbabwe dominate downtown Joburg, and are bringing their own cultures into the mix. Depending on whom you speak to, it is either a vibrant, multicultural community or a violent no-man’s land. The truth I feel lies with the former, although I for one would not be so brave as to venture downtown alone. As with the country as a whole, time will no doubt sort everything out.

A few days after the wedding, we left for the coastal resort of Plettenburg Bay, a 12 hour drive from Johannesburg. Driving the seemingly endless straight highways through a flat, dry landscape, we passed the obligatory township-then-town urban planning of South Africa, although there was a definite improvement for the impoverished. Power lines and running water are now common where before people were denied even these basic services. Each town seemed to be feeling the one-two punch of Aids and Unemployment, and there was little to see as we drove though the several provinces of the country. The trip was uneventful, save the lone donkey which almost took us out on the highway and the stop at the cheetah farm, where we played with Nikita the beautiful Cheetah. “Plett” is part of the Garden Route, a part of South Africa I’ve always rated as its most beautiful. Long, sandy beaches, lush forests, big waves smashing a dramatic coastline. The Indian Ocean is warm, appreciated by tourists and Great White Sharks alike. There were over 600 dolphins in the bay at this time of year, soon to be followed by humpback whales. Although it was Autumn, the temperature ranged in the 21-25C range, with the sun definitely hot enough to burn. We were joined by friends and proceeded to eat, drink and be merry as you do, visiting neighboring towns like Knysna and walking the Knoetsie Beach, which is surrounded by castles, as if it exists in a space-time warp in Scotland. It had been 10 years since I have seen this part of the world, and while prices go up and buildings burn down, nature doesn’t change in a hurry. Storms River Mouth was exactly as I remembered it, although this time I didn’t have to re-attach a flysheet to my tent at 3am during a massive storm with huge waves breaking several feet away from my head. In Tztitzikama National Forest, we tree-canopied attached to steel ropes tied between massive Yellowood trees. Invented by a South African and first built in Costa Rica, it’s the perfect kind of thrill that is not too taxing. Unlike the Bloukrans River Bungee Jump, which is the highest Bungee jump in the world at 256 metres. Ten years ago I jumped the third highest bridge, not too far away at the Gouritz River Bridge near Mossel Bay. Ten years ago I was invincible. Now I’m getting a gut, losing my hair, and watching my budget. Times change.

Friends departed until once again it was just myself, my brother Bradley and future sister-in-law Staci. I drove to Jeffrey’s Bay, the legendary surfing mecca and home to longest right hand break in the world, which apparently means something if you’re a surfer. Originally a small village with hardcore surfers living in tents on the beach, J-Bay has grown into a large town with dozens of hotels, surf shops, and bleached airheads. As fantastic as the waves looked, surfing culture continues to elude me. A few days before our departure, I met some young English dolphin scientists who provided ample entertainment for the last few days. Twelve of them lived in a house, with posh accents and sunburns. I felt like I was in a British reality TV show, as opposed to a South African beach holiday. It reminded me of why traveling is so cool: You never know where you’ll end up, or who you’ll meet. Over a bottle of wine, listening to the four same songs everyone seemed to listen to in South Africa, I made the decision to take a year off, finally, and see the world.

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