Leaving SA
For all those people who've wondered why we would leave South Africa - a natural paradise - the answer has been amply illustrated over the past six weeks. On Saturday night, just hours before we left, somebody climbed over the security gates, which we were forced to put up two weeks before in an attempt to curb repeated thefts, and stole another pile of our possessions.
A small first aid kit, a sheath knife which was our general purpose camp kitchen knife, some odds and ends and our CD collection. We'll let you do the maths on the cost of replacing 65 of our favourite CDs - one of which it took me 15 years to find a copy of.
This brings the value of our goods stolen in the last six weeks to at least R17 000. We're tired of living in a country where criminals, literally, get away with murder, and less ambitious crooks can steal and rob with virtual impunity. We're tired of having to live our lives in a prison of our own making, locking ourselves behind bars in an attempt to hang on to the things we worked hard to gather round us.
We're tired of a country where the police are ineffectual and are ultimately not worth contacting when something like this occurs. We're tired of an apologist government which prefers to pretend things "aren't that bad", of a business community which pays lip service to change but does little to improve the situation, and to a society - across the full racial spectrum - which prefers to point fingers at everyone else but does little to rectify its own problems.
Us running away isn't going to help Seffrica but, frankly, we don't give a shit anymore. We just want out of prison and into a world where we can regard strangers as people rather than as criminals awaiting an opportunity.
It's really sad that we have come to feel this way about such a beautiful land.
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Road & Rage
13 November 2001
We're on the road, again - to paraphrase an old song. Despite all the tribulations put in our path by friends and enemies alike, we left Pretoria on Sunday (11 November) afternoon after being delayed for an hour by a typical Highveld hailstorm. Maybe it was just a farewell gift from the Gods, given how spectacularly beautiful those storms are.
First off, an apology is in order. Sorry Cat, for having spoken to you twice on your birthday and not remembered that it was your birthday - it was only when we were 10 minutes out from the house that I suddenly realised what day it was.
The last week of our preparations was busy, to put it mildly. Between friends insisting on us coming round for another farewell dinner - forcing us to consume vast quantities of good food and booze - and having to get up early to do the last bits and pieces, it was a tiring week.
We haven't yet got a Brit settlement visa for Lisa - they reckoned it wasn't worth getting from SA, saying that by the time we reach the UK, there won't be enough time left of the one year it's valid for to ensure she gets permanent residency (or whatever they call the equivalent). Instead, they recommended that we apply from Kenya or somewhere closer. We'll see when we get there.
We also got the engine's injectors and diesel pump recalibrated so that Lisa and I are the only ones who smoke like chimneys now. We've found a workshop manual as well - the one we were due to get was loaned out before we could get our grubby paws on it, never to be seen again.
Tears and Cheers
After a great braai (a far more emotive word than the northern hemisphere's "barbeque") and some sniffly farewells, we get down to the kak (another great word!) of sorting everything out of the house and into the truck on Sunday morning, except that it lasted well into the afternoon.
Momma the cat was collected at 2 pm, resulting in more "snot & trane" and then we were almost ready to leave - just as the heavens opened. We left Pretoria at 5.25 pm with the odometer reading 30 675 km. It's very different leaving when you know you aren't going to be back for a long, long time. It doesn't take long to start missing good friends.
With the truck puttering along at a steady 85 km/h, it wasn't long before we realised that the 1 100 km to Port Elizabeth were going to take a long time. Shortly after we settled into the rhythm, Lisa decided that "Chugger" was an inappropriate name for the truck and renamed her "Wag 'n Bietjie" - which, for those of you not from South Africa, means "wait a bit" and is the name for a common thorn tree with small, curved thorns that tends to grab your clothes as you pass and slow you down. The term has also come to be used to mean "be patient".
By 2.30am, neither of us could keep our eyes open and we found a side road in the middle of nowhere in the eastern Free State, sleeping in our seats for an uncomfortable five hours before continuing along one of our favourite and most beautiful sections of South Africa.
Fuelish behaviour
Not wanting to fill up in Aliwal North, which must rank as one of the furthest places from an oil refinery in SA and therefore one of the most expensive refuelling points, we pushed on to Queenstown, reaching the town with 3,5 litres left in the tank - and the gauge hanging well below the empty mark. Ons poephols het hard gewerk vir die laaste uur!
We stopped for an hour in Grahamstown to say goodbye to another friend and reached PE about 7 pm after a 27 hour trip. Here, we began the repacking process, tossing heaps of extraneous stuff and reorganising things so that there is some more space. Things will no doubt improve as we get into the swing of it but at the moment, things are crowded and chaotic.
The best news of the whole week has been a last minute decision to bugger the consequences and take Tigger, the dog, with us. She too is happy at not having been left behind. She knows that when we start packing boxes, things are afoot and she tends to hang around the truck, sleeping in it if possible, to make sure she isn't forgotten about. She was really happy when we shooed her aboard as we prepared to leave.
She was also ecstatic when we reached the sea and let her loose on the beach, barking incessantly and bounding into the waves in pursuit of stones, sticks, lumps of sand and any chunks of seaweed which we threw for her.
Next stop is Cape Agulhas and then Cape Town.
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