Weekeend away at Grootbos Nature Reserve

I love Cape Town so much that I am guilty of treating anything outside the 20km radius from the city like another province. So when I got an opportunity to go to Gansbaai I welcomed it with an open heart. First of all a weekend away in Grootbos is not nearly enough. There is so much to do and see and to truly experience what Grootbos has to offer you need at lease 4-5 days.

We arrived late mainly because we relied far too much on a GPS and we missed crucial exits but when we got there we immediately felt at home. There were people waiting for us at the parking lot and we were told we were just in time for a 5 course dinner which the manager insists that guests you try everything at least on the first night. Not the ones to break away from traditions we put aside our menus and let Princess (our waiter) do her job. Before I get to the food I just have to say that the staff at Grootbos goes out of their way to make you feel welcome. (One waiter even gave away his last cigarette because the vending machine wasn't working).  Nothing was too difficult to arrange and they are very attentive and know their menus well. Did I mention that it changes every day? Dinner is a real treat. Let me let the pictures do the talking!



 

 

Activities

There is so much you can do at Groobos from shark cage diving for the brave, whale watching (in season) but I heard that horse riding was very popular but opted for Quad biking. I was a bit concerned about three hours on a bike but time flew and I loved every second. I have never been on a quadbike before but I was told that anyone can do it. Within minutes we were off to the bush going up and down the mountain and I must say there were a few very steep areas and I still can’t believe I did it.

Three hours later we were back in our room and we have missed lunch. I called reception to let them know. I was happy with just sandwiches but I was told I could order whatever I wanted from the lunch menu, room service and all. The stuff at Grootbos really do their best to make sure that guests have a great time. We had a nice fire place going every night after dinner. The garden lodge is very private you feel like you are the only person there.
 

I would go to back to Grootbos anyday. I still have unfinished business with their pool.

 

 

 

 

Why I love West Africa

Why I love West Africa

 

Everything is big in West Africa. Words, personalities, pride, egos, wallets and anything in between. I have heard this statement before; mostly from girls with naughty giggles and smiles plastered across their faces and with only one thing on their minds. It wasn’t until I had been to West Africa that I truly understood what ‘big’ meant.

 

When my dad turned 37 I bought him socks with coins I had spent hours hunting for between the seats of his car every weekend. On the socks was it written “Go big or Go home”. I had no clue what that meant, until now.

 

Ouagadougou in Burkina Faso is a city like many other cities. It is full of contrast. The big houses are BIG and the small ones are so delicate and transparent that you can tell that, just like their owners, they have lived, survived and keep on keeping on. It’s a city on the up and the evidence is on the number of high-rise buildings popping up all over town. It is a work in progress. During my second day in West Africa I sat and watched a popular music show and realised that variety was the spice of life. In Southern Africa we have the SADC which has a number of talented musicians. Yet if you know who Oliver Mtukudzi is, and you are from a township, you are progressive. There, I found music from Togo, Benin, Ivory Coast and the variety appealed to me.

 

Then there was an older guy that I encountered, dressed in an ill-fitting, funny Elvis suit with short trouser legs above his knees, and cowboy boots. I was told that he was a part of a group called Espoir 2000 and very popular. His song translated to “Poverty is the cousin of death and if you have no money you are dead”. I laughed! Of course, this is the stereotype I am comfortable with. Foreigners have money and they like splashing it. The next day was Good Friday and being Christian I know what it means but admit that to me it has always been like any other holiday. But there people visit each other, share beers, anything as long as you make an effort to meet as many people as you can and hope that yours stomach can take on all the food.  It reminded me of Christmas when I was a kid and it felt wonderful. The friend I was visiting said that we should go greet his neighbour and I asked why. “Well your neighbour is your first parent, if anything happens to me they will come here first, so it’s very important that we know each other well”. I knew what he was saying was true, but also realized that I didn’t even know my neighbours, names back home. In case of trouble, my first parent was my cell phone, and if anything happens I will call the police!  

 

I do not know which part of West Africa you may be familiar with or will see as it has many facets. But in Burkina, Ouaga opened up a new way of seeing West Africa for me; foreigners, the dark ones with bright clothes, the drug dealers, the smelly ones, the ones with 20 wives and voodoo tendencies. I saw a warm Africa, a welcoming Africa where people of different religions lived together. I saw Muslims sitting side by side with Christians and as I visited during Easter it was so intriguing to witness how Muslim friends sat with their Christian friends and talked about whatever was on their minds. These are the people who have accepted their differences and yet choose to live next to each other. I received more gifts from visiting people whom I had only met for the first time, than I have ever done from visiting relatives at home that I haven’t seen in years. The gifts ranged from pineapples, whole chickens, traditional cloth to bangles from a girl I just met and I felt welcomed. I was saddened to leave these people who had never made me feel like a foreigner. Then I wondered what they know about South Africa? What they think about South Africa? Do they really think we want to butcher foreigners and send them home because they are thieves? Do they know we hunt them down at night and burn them simply because they are the reason we feel disenfranchised.

 

Do we hate them because they are too dark? Who wouldn’t be dark laboring in that blistering heat everyday? Do we call them foreigners because we think they do not know much about anything or is we who do not know?  On my way back to SA, I sat on a plane to Ghana next to an elderly doctor who was so happy to know that I was from South Africa. Mandela came up, of course, and Robben Island, but the nice things he said to me about my country filled me with so much pride.

 

I am not saying this with any sense of superiority, but the truth is that South Africa is for many Africans, what Hollywood is for many wanna-be movie stars. West Africans know a lot about South Africa and other African countries. I sat with about seven boys in a college and they told me their biggest fear about stepping out is their limited English. It wasn’t that they were scared they wouldn’t make it in South Africa. Not knowing how to speak French made me feel a bit silly and yet everybody made an effort to speak to me in English. Who are the true foreigners then? For me it’s not the person with a funny accent who sells cigarettes by the corner, nor the Congolese guy who parks your car in Longstreet, nor the guy who sells you airtime on your way to work, but rather the person who never makes any attempt to know what he/she does not know.  

 

The person who is dismissive of the unknown and hides behind the little he knows which is precious little in the case of many South Africans. That person is a foreigner to the human race and we might have the same green ID, speak the same language but you are a foreigner to me and I would like to say I shall not hide my green passport at airports because of you. I will carry my passport with pride and tell whoever wants to listen what a nice country South Africa is. People died for this freedom we enjoy and not just to swim at exclusive beaches, eat at nice restaurants and work in air conditioned offices but also for freedom of thought. If this rubs you the wrong way, you are the foreigner. I never want to see, meet or hear anything from you, so forever hold your peace or go buy a map, learn something, foreigner!

 

 

Crocodiles Of Bazoule in Burkina Faso

Hello crocodiles
 

Getting to pose with crocodiles was one of the top things I wanted to do while I was in Burkina Faso and sample their local beer of course. The idea of riding a crocodile scared and excited me at the same time. I had no idea what to expect. All I knew was that you have to buy chicken for the crocodiles as peace offering. I liked that idea very much. If I bring lunch I couldn't be lunch right?

The idea is not to look behind you!

We drove out of Ouaga and made our way to Bazoule. There were people waiting for us and after a short lesson about crocodiles we made our way to the lake. I could see the crocodiles from a distance and they looked like rocks you can step on. But when the guy made a noise the crocodiles started approaching us and I automatically started moving backwards. It looked as if they were getting bigger. I assumed they were going to feed them before we had a chance to take pictures.

My Photo Buddy! We were told she was over a 100 years old
 

 

Lunch was "natural" chicken

 

The guy told us that the females were better behaved so we had to take pictures with them. They happened to be the smaller ones too so I was happy. Once the "freindly" female was picked I was told to go ahead and touch it. The crocodile whisperer only had a stick to use against the crocodiles. I wanted to see him touch it first. After a few minutes I decided to try as well. It was not scary at all. I took as many pictures as I wanted and then it was time to walk back and enjoy lunch and beer under the tree. If you want to do something extreme but with both your feet on the ground I would highly recommend the trip to Bazoule. If I did it anyone can. Just remeber the chicken is alive and you will have to pick one.

 

20 Days to go then Hello West Africa - Burkina Faso

I have been looking forward to this trip since I decided to go. Most people are surprisingly very negative about me going to Burkina Faso. Some ask me why I would want to go there? No one asked me that stupid question when I went to London last year. Some ask, is it safe? Hello, you live in Joburg and you are asking me about my safety. Some don’t even ask me any questions but tell me straight that I will not like it there. When I ask why, I am told that because up there it’s “Real Africa”. Now, this cracks me up. What is real Africa? Is it real Africa because it is less developed? If so when every corner in Africa has electricity, clean water, internet access, paved roads, street lights, are we going to have to change our name to Made in China meaning that it’s no longer real but FAKE?

I got so tired of defending my trip but I did my research and I was concerned about my health. Meningitis, Malaria and all sorts of water of food diseases. So, I went to a travel clinic yesterday. The nurse was polite and I asked her what I needed to take and said yes to everything she recommended. The last thing I want is to come back sick, or worse, get sick there. But for every little thing she recommended she told me about side effects. She said I must not drink immediately after taking my malaria pills. I understand this but I will not let pills interfere with my daily local beer-sampling sessions.  I said I would try to drink after 5 only. Then I was told the same pills would mess up the good bacteria so I will need to eat plain yoghurt to help build good bacteria inside my tummy. She then  said “But I wouldn’t trust their yoghurt”. Then the sunscreen, then milk, then all foods and water. I mean it’s her job to be helpful and advise clients but she was making me feel bad about going to West Africa. I swear, if I wasn’t paying the clinic almost a R1000 she would have advised against going altogether! I know they are not a travel agency and don’t need to sell West Africa as a destination, but they do not need to bash it either.

I had injections in both my arms, I woke up feeling sore but I can’t help but be excited about my trip, against all odds.

Africa is a Continent

And I intent to travel most of it, one country a time from Cape to Cairo budget allowing. This has always been a dream of mine. When I was at university my best friend Kgomoco and I decided that it was time we got our passports done. We had no money to travel but the desire was there. Weeks later, we had our passports and mine remained in a nice brown envelop it came in, unused for years. My first trip was to the stunning Malawi and this place will always be my first love no matter how further up I go up our magnificent continent. Join me as I stretch my budget to its limits exploring Africa, its food, fashion, nightlife, people and everything in between.

Lake Malawi

Keep Moving!!