Hafeezur Rahman Malik
Mr. Hafeezur Rahman is a retired Development Banking Specialist now whiling away his time teaching and travelling. His email contact is: hafeez@khi.comsats.net.pk
I had gone to Pretoria in July '99. It was winter in South Africa as it lies below the equator. Although the days were sunny, the nights were chilly and bitter. I stayed in Pretoria a little longer for acclimatization. I had long walks. The roadsides were covered with trees especially jacaranda immersing the city in glorious shades of purple and mauve. There was a floral sensation all around which mixed well with the architectural delight created by historical buildings, fine Dutch architecture, museums and monuments. Besides that, there was a variety of shopping malls and arcades. One could also find on fine beadwork, hand spun rugs, woodwork, hides and skins being sold on the roadsides.
After about four days, I sat down with the lodge manager to discuss my problems. I had only $1,000 and a credit card. I had a little medical history - high blood pressure, weak stomach. I was nearing 57. Despite this, my plans were to traverse South Africa from one end to another. I intended to have a taste of what the country offered: mountain biking, river rafting, paragliding and above all bungee jumping. We wrestled with one big question, how to do it? Considering my restricted budget and physical conditions, the best option was to go to the neighboring country Swaziland and to have a self-guided walking safari. Though I did cover South Africa as planned, the walking safari was the best event of the tour.
For travelling in South Africa and the neighbouring countries, a variety of transport was available. There were air, rail and road links. A bus network known as Baz Bus was the best choice. Specifically designed for backpackers and budget travellers, the Baz Bus picks up and drops passengers off at lodges and hostels. Passengers simply buy one ticket to their final destination and can "hop-on, hop-off" wherever and as many times as they like with no time limit. I got a Pretoria-Cape Town Return Ticket for $230. It would enable me to go via Swaziland, which is a land locked country surrounded by South Africa and Mozambique.
One fine morning, dressed in layers of cotton & woollen clothes, I stood at the gate of the guesthouse waiting for the Baz Bus to Swaziland. It arrived promptly at 7:15 am. It was a Mercedes Sprinter towing a trailer. It had 22 seats. The passengers were mostly white, ranging from 18 to 35 in age. I was lucky to get the front seat and enjoyed the scenery. The entire route was studded with fruit plantations, stunning lush green sugar cane fields, high grassy plains and majestic mountains. The bus passed by Nelsprint City, the gateway to Kruger, the world famous Wildlife Park with all the 'Big Five'- lions, elephants, leopards, buffalos and rhinos.
After about 8 hours of travel, the bus reached the border towns of Oshoek & Ngwenaya. There were minimum customs and immigration formalities. I was given my visa at the post. Compared to the computerized operation on the South African side, the Swazilanders were carrying on in the old fashioned way: forms, registers, stamps, slips but all with a smile and free of cost. By 7:00 p.m. or after 12 hours, the bus reached Royal Swazi Sun Hotel, Mbabane, the capital city. A van from Sondzela Lodge was already waiting for me as the Baz Bus driver had alerted them of my arrival. All drivers had mobile phones.
Sondzela Lodge was located inside the Mlilwane Wildlife Sanctuary in Ezulwini Valley. It was well furnished in ethnic colours and designs. It was laden with aromatic trees like lemonwood, strawberry, eucalyptus and lavender. Their leaves were shimmering and glinting in a gentle breeze. A feeling of peace and stillness pervaded the area. Many birds were perching around in the hope of food offerings by the guests. One could hear the occasional wild cry. It was just the place to relax and unwind leaving the world behind. There were self-contained thatched cottages, beehive huts and timber dorms to suit all pockets. I got a comfortable room for only $10. In the evening a fire was lit and everyone had a chance to relax, eat dinner and listen to the calls of wild. There were many natives around. They were handsome and colourfully dressed. They joined the guests in exchanging tales of lion kills and elephant charges.
Sondzela had taken a step forward to ensure safety of the trekkers. A fluttering flag and a flashing light were visible all the time at the starting point. One had only to look back to seek guidance. A well-sketched route map & a guidebook were provided against a small deposit. White bricks containing a footprint marked the trail. One area was well publicized as the Hippo Trail. Bathing or paddling there was declared hazardous. My initial response was not to go alone but I thought that for a fee of only $3 they could not afford to have a dangerous trail. Moreover, the white bricks were visible from my own room leading to a guard post. There was absolutely no harm going up there for a trial run.
Next day, it was a cold & crisp morning. I set my foot on the trail. I had a daypack containing biscuits, a water bottle and some medicine. He, who travels light, travels far. The guard post was half a kilometer away at quite some height. With pent-up energy and a great deal of confidence, I forged ahead. In a few minutes, however, I discovered that my tolerance was suddenly no more than a few slow paces. My pulse went up with each step. I was obliged to catch my breath every few meters waiting for the palpitations to subside. Many trekkers, some carrying loaded rucksacks, stared, waved and then overtook. I thought I was victim of altitude sickness or chill factor. I sat down, fished out the pamphlet given to me. It was clearly written that it was not an endurance walk. It was designed to accommodate old and young alike. This encouraged me indeed. I was back to normal in no time. I got up and resumed the onward march up to the guard post.
A guard introduced himself as Makama Dlamani. He proudly said that he belonged to the famous clan, Dlamani, descendents of King Sobhuza. (There is a good chance of meeting a prince in Swaziland as the old king had nearly 400 wives.) The guard pointed out the contour of the trail. It was like a figure of 8. The mid-point was the end of phase one. "When you reach up there, think how much time and energy you still have," he said in a very soft tone. Pointing towards another side, he continued: "You see, there is another trail winding down its way back to the start. You may return by this or continue further." He looked at me as if to assess my conditions and added, "If I did not see you back by the late afternoon, I would send someone". That was incredible giving me a further boost.
I resumed the walk. For quite some distance, it was downhill. That gave me time to look around. It was an opportunity to walk with nature. I could see a wide spectrum of wildlife varying from giraffe to kudu, black eagles and red rock hares. The grass and trees provided a rich grazing ground. There were rolling hills of different colours and shades depicting a geological and botanical diversity. Like the fragments of a patchwork quilt, all were connected but each had its distinctive individuality. At a far distance some native huts were visible. These were clustered together as if for mutual warmth and comfort. The trail took a turn and faced a water hole. I saw a springbok ram standing gracefully on the edge, its image glistening in clear water. A little further, an excited impala took off in a series of stiff-legged bouncing leaps. I also saw young warthogs sucking their mother. Black eagles and Lanner falcons were seen flying over the blue sky. A heron was searching for prey in a cool, green world of its own. It stood motionless to catch a tempting frog or insect with its dagger like bill. A Little Brown Job or Tintinky was singing to attract a mate.
After about an hour, the path started climbing and became steeper and steeper. It appeared that the honeymoon was over. Like an old ox-wagon, I went up creaking, jerking, tilting and crashing. High trees like coral, fern, African Holly, aloe and umsololo shaded the path. On both sides, there was a green wall of creepers, bushes, willows and weeds. In fact, the path looked like a corridor in a dense jungle. The walk became a little frightening. With no fences to protect, it could have been dangerous. All senses were on the alert - hearing, sight and smell. Eyes darted perpetually from point to point sizing up everything that stirred. The ascent became sharper, at many points forcing me to assume a crawling position. At long last, I saw the sky. I was fully exhausted and practically lying on my stomach gasping for breath. From that point, I could see almost whole of sanctuary in one majestic panorama. It had bustling rivers cascading through their gorges. It was so refreshing that I literally felt pleasant waves passing through my body.
By the afternoon, I had reached the mid-point. It was like a picnic spot. I consulted the map. I had only covered four km. It was a miserable performance by any standard. I would never be able to walk with my chin up. I thought of venturing into the next phase but good sense prevailed and I decided to return. The back trail followed a stream. Soon I was walking on a well-worn path. As per the guidebook, the path was made by the passage of hippos over many years. It was one of their defined routes between their night time feeding grounds and the lake where they spent their days. Further, the guidebook had warned to be careful by walking through the forest on the lake edge. Certain areas were used by hippos during the day where they might sleep in the shade. Despite their often-comical appearance and bulk, hippo could move very fast and be extremely dangerous. An alternate route was given for a complete safety. In any case, there were not many hippos to be sees. They spent most of their time submerged, feeding on vegetation underneath and surfacing only occasionally to grab a breath of air before plunging again.
Beyond the hippo trail, the terrain became quite interesting. There were many bridges to cross, ladders to climb and walks along the cliff edge but all were safe and pleasant. Certainly, those were new dimensions as Sondzela had planned to pack all the fun into a half-day tour. Soon the main camp was in sight. I reached it at about 2:30 p.m. The friendly guard was happy to see me back and offered me a chair to relax. Indeed the walking safari was an experience that fed my soul, challenged my spirit and opened my mind.
Hafeezur Rahman
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