We were fortunate to be in Cape Town when the drought broke, the hills were greening, and the reservoirs were filling again. The Western Cape and the city were vastly interesting and stunningly beautiful and should be a destination on everyone’s radar. But after three months of slow, immersive travel it was time to move on. After greatly enjoying our first safari at Schotia Game Reserve, just watching Donna’s joy viewing the wild animals was priceless for me, we decided to head to Chobe National Park in northern Botswana and Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe to continue our adventure.
Flying over the Northern Cape, we watched from the window of the jet as the fresh greens of the Western Cape slowly faded to the reddish sands of the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park, that straddles the border with Botswana. From the air it looked like a flat, dry, desolate landscape broken by faded veins – forgotten dirt tracks to who knows where. Further into Botswana the vast whiteness of the Makgadikgadi Pans National Park intensely reflected the sun as the park’s 2400 square miles of salt pan stretched to the horizon below. The area was once the immense Lake Makgadikgadi, that covered an area almost the size of Switzerland, but dried up more than 10,000 years ago.
While the Cape Town region had fortunately recovered, Zimbabwe was still suffering from its worst multi-year drought in 40 years and the countryside looked tinder dry, as if it would erupt into a massive mushroom cloud if you breathed too hard on it. As a result of the severe water shortage, electricity was being rationed due to insufficient water levels to run the turbines at the hydroelectric dams along the Zambezi River.
At the Zimbabwe Airport, the queue for visas to get into the country was very jammed and moved slowly. We were in the middle of the pack, surrounded by organized tour groups so we felt our progress would proceed smoothly. It did not. The delay was extensive and twice I had to skirt security and walk past the border control booths to the baggage claim area to check that our luggage was still there. (It was lucky that I did, as our bags had been gathered into those of a large group tour and we nearly lost them.) But somehow, while we waited in line, it was as if we had grounded a boat on an unseen rock, and we ended up as the last couple entering the country at passport control. Everyone else had managed to sail past us. We were finally about to get our passports stamped when the power failed and the computers went down! And to top it off we had to ask the border control officer to return the change due us from purchasing the visas.
Our mood was restored by the warm greeting we received from Fungayi, our guide for the next three days and the owner of Afro Honeyguide Adventures. “Does it usually take that long for folks to get through passport control?” “No, that’s the longest I’ve ever had to wait. I was beginning to think something might have happened. Let’s not delay any longer – it’s time for that cruise on the Zambezi River.” And off we went.
The Zambezi River starts high in the mountains of northern Zambia near where the borders of Angola, the Congo and Zambia converge, and is the fourth longest river in Africa at 1600 miles. It flows south then east for hundreds of miles as the natural border between Zimbabwe and Zambia. Thundering over Victoria Falls, its waters eventually flow through Mozambique and empty into the Indian Ocean. It’s a vital life source for people and animals of the region.
A steep boarding ramp emphasized the river’s low level and led down to a variety of vessels, from replicas of Humphrey Bogart’s African Queen to mini cruise ships. We were the last to board a medium size pontoon boat before it cast off.
In stark contrast with the dry landscape we passed on the way from the airport, the banks of the Zambezi were lush with verdant brush and trees. It was a dense screen that shielded the animals from our prying eyes unless they were right on the riverbank. Though elephants were elusive, herds of hippos ruled the afternoon. On shore they protected their young and displayed their hierarchy with dusty charges and bellowing growls, groans, and grunts. In the river, turbulent pools of hippo testosterone battled for dominance with wide gaping jaws amidst violent sprays of water. More menacing was coming upon a submerged hippo with just its eyes and nostrils showing, the bulk of its tonnage hidden below the surface. They are in fact Africa’s deadliest land mammal, killing over 500 people each year. A few crocs and numerous bird sightings rounded out a satisfying afternoon.
As tranquil as our water safari was, the river was surprisingly busy with activity, but so well-spaced it didn’t infringe upon our enjoyment of the afternoon. As the sun set, our captain skillfully positioned our boat to capture the last light of the day.
After a long day of travel and sightseeing it was finally time to check into the Nguni Lodge, a pretty 14 room boutique hotel, in a private compound on the outskirts of Victoria Falls. “See you in the morning; we’re headed to the falls tomorrow,” Fungayi said as he waved good night to us.
As we were exploring the property the next morning, the gardener enthustically beckoned us over to look at a plant, the branches of which he was separating to reveal a camouflaged chameleon that blended in perfectly with the leafy background.
Victoria Falls was originally named by the indigenous tribes of the region, who called it Mosi-oa-Tunya or “The Smoke that Thunders.” The mile wide and 355 feet high falls have been one of the Seven Wonders of the World since British explorer David Livingstone stumbled upon them in 1855 as he was trying to elude that pesky reporter Stanley, and of course he claimed their discovery and renamed them as imperialists did.
“When the river is full you can’t see the falls across the gorge. It’s just a thundering cloud of mist. It’s much better for photos this way,”our guide offered, trying to put a good spin on a dire situation as he pointed across the gorge toward Zambia. If you are not convinced of climate change, witnessing firsthand the dramatic reduction of water flowing over the falls might change your mind.
Even with a reduced volume of water, the fascinating trail along the edge of the gorge traveled through a unique, jungle-like, misty microclimate that offered shaded sanctuary to small animals. Two hundred yards further inland the landscape was dry as a bone.
With an unscheduled afternoon ahead of us Fungayi suggested we lunch at the Victoria Falls Safari Lodge. “They have a vulture feeding program and a wild game watering hole visible from their terrace.” We never realized that vultures were endangered, but as with so many other threatened animals in Africa, the problem originated with poaching. As conservation efforts improved and anti-poaching ranger patrols increased, poachers stopped shooting elephants and rhinos. Instead they started to poison waterholes or the carcasses of an animal they had killed so that the vultures would die also and not reveal their activity in an area by circling over a dead elephant. Vultures play an important role in the ecosystem by picking clean the rotting meat from animal carcasses. Their stomach acids destroy rabies, botulinum toxins and anthrax, which could kill other animals or spread to humans. Poaching is still a huge problem in Africa and until all levels of the people involved in this illicit trade start doing some serious jail time, it always will be. China and Vietnam are the chief destinations for all sorts of endangered animal horns and parts, where they are used in traditional medicine remedies. Carved rhino horn is even considered a good investment by some wealthy Asian businessmen. And to muddy their blind-eye support of this poaching even farther, in October, 2018, China reversed a ban on rhino and tiger parts in medicine. You might find these two articles by the New York Times and Scientific American informative.
https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/29/world/asia/china-rhino-tiger-poaching.html
I know this is difficult, but if we are sincere conservationists, we need to talk with our money and avoid buying products made in China.
The “Big Tree,” perhaps Zimbabwe’s oldest Baobab tree at an estimated 2000 years, was on the route to our lunch spot. This majestic Baobab was truly impressive with a girth of 74ft and 80ft height. Perfectly adapted for the drought prone savannahs of Africa, the trees drop their leaves during dry periods.
The view from the hotel’s shaded terrace looked out over the watering hole and beyond it across an expanse of the Zambezi National Park that stretched to the Botswana border many miles away. In a year with average rains the trees would have been thick with foliage. Instead the landscape looked burnt, like it had been ravaged by a recent uncontrollable forest fire. We watched as small groups of cape buffalo and zebra kicked up clouds of yellow dust as they trudged their way towards the water, avoiding the resident crocodile that bathed in the heat of the afternoon sun. Occasionally the buffalo would turn and charge the zebras away if they felt they their space was being encroached upon.
We spent our last day in Botswana on a game drive and river safari in Chobe National Park. Fungayi picked us up early for our transfer into Botswana at the Kasane border crossing. Here we had to pay a Zimbabwe exit fee, then travel a short distance through a buffer zone between the two countries and walk through a tray of disinfectant, to prevent the transmission of hoof and mouth disease to cattle in Botswana, before finally purchasing an entrance visa to a country we have long wanted to visit since reading the The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency novels by Alexander McCall Smith. His love for the country is visible in every page and character. Here a local licensed guide gathered four more tourists and bundled us into a Land Rover that later broke down as we were entering Chobe. This situation was quickly remedied though with the delivery of a Toyota safari truck. According to African safari guides, the Land Rovers enjoy an undeserved reputation as a safari vehicle; Toyota trucks are much more reliable.
Chobe is reputed to have the highest concentration of elephants in Africa and during the Botswana dry season, June to October, large herds of elephants migrate from the park’s vast interior to the banks of the Chobe River for water and food. Buffalo and antelope herds also follow this ritual which makes game viewing along the river extremely rewarding. We were not disappointed. Within minutes of leaving the park entrance we traveled down a dusty sidetrack and encountered impala and kudu working their way down to the river. Along its grassy banks, herds of antelope grazed peacefully and, in the distance, Nambia shimmered through the heat waves rising from the earth.
The bird life along the water was interesting too with sightings of regal fish eagles, kingfishers and wonderful rainbow plumed lilac-breasted rollers.
Further along clouds of dust in the brush signaled a large buffalo herd moving toward the river. Later upon reaching the water the herd would swim across to the islands in the middle of the Chobe River to feed on the lush green grasses.
We hadn’t spotted any elephants yet, so we turned into the forest to look for them. Here we encountered several small elephant family groups, all following their matriarchs in search of food. 
On the way out of the park, heading to our river safari, we viewed giraffe and more antelope.
After lunch, our intrepid group boarded a small boat for the water safari on the Chobe River. 
Viewing wildlife from the water offered a different perspective on the animal life. Gape-mouthed hippos and crocodile sightings were frequent now.
Some elephants were gathered on the riverbank waiting for the right moment to swim across to the islands, following others that had crossed earlier. 
The black coats of the buffalo were now glistening in the sun. Unfortunately, we didn’t witness any herds swimming across to the islands, but there were distinctive water lines on the elephants that had forded earlier.
African darters, yellow-billed storks, grey herons and great white egrets searched the waters for fish. Along the shore an eerie-looking monitor lizard crawled along in search of bird nests and their eggs.
On the way back, we passed floating houseboat style hotels that offer multi-day excursions that follow the river further upstream to more isolated sections along the Botswana – Nambia border. 
Surprisingly, there was even a border control station on the riverbank to monitor the movement of people and commerce on the waterway between the two countries. It was a rewarding afternoon with Donna definitely being in her element. And those riverboat hotels got us thinking about potential future trips.
So many things change yet many things stay the same.
We now have jet travel, cell phones, and the internet, and yet many places in Africa have barely changed at all, with folks still walking many miles each day to gather water and forage for firewood. And malaria, as it was in Livingstone’s time, is still a deadly disease.
Till next time, Craig & Donna
Unbeknownst to us, Bree Street is considered “Cape Town’s hippest street.” The area is in the midst of gentrification with numerous restaurants, bars and cafes scattered between high-end boutiques, art galleries, mechanic shops, plumbing supply stores, classic car and motorcycle showrooms, along with marine and industrial supply stores. And I swear all the above seem to offer luscious cappuccinos!
It’s a competitive restaurant scene with many places offering two-for-one lunch specials, happy hour drinks and West Coast Oysters for R15, or $1.00 each. We enjoyed sitting with classic cars at Dapper Coffee, lamb burgers and sushi at Sotano, oysters at Clark’s. Splurging, we dined at 
Formerly known as the Malay Quarter, the colorful homes of the Bo-Kaap neighborhood, located between Signal Hill and the city center, were only a few blocks away. One of the oldest continuously inhabited neighborhoods in the city, the first homes were built in the 1760s as housing for mostly Muslim slaves, who were brought by the Dutch from Malaysia, Ceylon and Indonesia to work. The neighborhood grew when slavery was abolished throughout the English empire in 1833. It’s said the houses were then painted bright colors as an expression of newfound freedoms. The neighborhood is home to the Auwal Mosque, the first built in South Africa in 1794 and still in use today. In 1957 the apartheid government declared Bo-Kaap a Malay Only Area and forcibly relocated everyone else. The pressure continues today under the new guise of gentrification. Bo-Kaap means “above the Cape” in Afrikaans and with its stunning location on the lower slope of Signal Hill and its close proximity to the Cape Town Business District, it has become a very desirable location. Old time residents fear the heart of Bo-Kaap will disappear and it will just become a façade of brightly painted buildings.
We walked the hilly, cobbled streets of Bo-Kaap several times, enjoying its cityscape. One day we encountered a small flock of sheep grazing, within sight of the city’s skyscrapers, as we made our way to the Noon Gun, a naval cannon fired once a day, every day for over two-hundred years. 
Originally it was a signal for ships in the harbor, back in the day when they used sextants to navigate, to set their chronometers which were used to help calculate longitude. Critical stuff when you are navigating around the treacherous Cape of Good Hope. It’s a tradition that has survived the Dutch, English and apartheid. 
The Cape Malay community has contributed greatly to establishing Cape Town as a foodie’s destination with a cuisine that embraces exotic spices. Cinnamon, cardamom, ginger, cloves, mustard seed, chili and roasted fenugreek seeds all flavor various curries, bobotie, biriyani, rendang, and samosa recipes that have endeared themselves to Capetonians.
Renting a car made it easy for us to reach points farther afield in Cape Town and its outlying districts. Our day trips included taking the cable car to the top of 
One morning we walked through the 
After our morning at the botanical gardens we headed over to Woodstock for lunch at 
We returned to Woodstock to check out The Neighbourgoods Market, a Saturday only food event, at The Old Biscuit Mill, a renovated mixed-use industrial site with offices, galleries featuring local artisans, vintage shops and eateries. If you need a retail therapy fix, this is the place to head. They have an interesting photography store called 
James Michener’s play South Pacific, an appropriate story for the times about diversity and acceptance, was performing downtown at the 
“You must attend a rugby game while you are here, it’s so South African. The playoffs are next weekend.” So Vincent, Donna’s friend from seminary, took us to our first rugby match. We are not sports fans and typically avoid watching any sports on TV. But this playoff match between the hometown favorites the Stormers and the underdog Sharks from Durban was a fascinating contest of almost continuous play; there was never a dull moment. Shockingly, the underdogs pulled off a surprise victory in the final second of the game and earned themselves a spot at the Rugby World Playoffs in Canberra, Australia.
Muizenberg beach is renowned for its gorgeous stretch of sand, colorful beach cabanas on False Bay and interesting streetmurals scattered about town.
On a cool Saturday we hiked up Lion’s Head Mountain along a trail that corkscrewed around the mountain to the top. 
The path deteriorated as we climbed higher with uneven footing that at times narrowed to the width of our feet as it edged, for short distances, along cliff tops. 
In some spots, ladders were used for short vertical climbs. If you plan to go, bring water and food. There are plenty of boulders to sit on to enjoy the 360 degree views the trail offers. We didn’t make it to the summit, with the last part a little too vertical for us, but we felt very satisfied with what we accomplished.
We spent several afternoons on Signal Hill, watching paragliders launch into the sky above Sea Point, and then gently drifting toward the beach as the sun slowly sank below the South Atlantic horizon. 
This is a popular spot at the end of the day with many folks making a picnic of it, clinking glasses of wine as the sun sets. There are also several food trucks that provide light meals and of course cappuccino. It is, after all, Cape Town.
During the morning “golden hour” we watched a family of giraffe walk gracefully through the forest, nibbling thorns from the acacia trees, before saying our goodbyes. Stormsriver, it was! Backtracking through Port Elizabeth we retraced our drive past Jeffreys Bay and continued west on the N2 until we stopped to photograph the steep chasm that the Stormsriver Bridge spanned, just before the village of the same name. Mostly folks mean the 
We thought the entrance fee of $17.00 per person for international tourists was steep and we did see some cars turning away, but we had heard such tremendous recommendations we would regret it if we didn’t check it out. There was a long winding road down from the entrance gate and when we finally rounded a sharp corner, the view of the rugged coastline with crashing waves sending up large white sprays was spectacular! 
We enjoyed lunch watching and listening to thunderous waves explode against rocks only a short distance away from our table at the Cattle Baron. It’s the only restaurant in the park and was excellent, along with being very affordable. A nice surprise after the park entrance fee. 
After lunch we followed an easy section of the 
Staying in designated cabins each night, it takes five days to cover the route that stretches from Stormsriver in the Eastern Cape to Nature’s Valley in the Western Cape. The reverse hike is referred to as the 
On the way back to the highway we stopped at 
Our steep ascent away from the coast began in George as we headed north on the N9/N12 twisting our way uphill through the Outeniqua Pass to Oudtshoorn. This is a challenging stretch of highway with continuous s-turns that required my constant attention. Passengers can enjoy spectacular views on sunny days that stretch for miles. If possible, drive the route towards the coast, it’s easier to stop at the scenic lookouts this way.
We’ve heard of gold booms, where fortunes were made. But it was the ostrich booms in 1865 -1885 and 1902-1913 when ostrich feathers were the ultimate fashion accessory in Europe that enriched local farmers here. At one point 314,000 ostriches were being raised and their feathers were a valuable South African export, only surpassed by gold, diamonds and wool.
The word karoo comes from the Khoisan language meaning “land of thirst” and it precisely describes the terrain along R62 which we followed. Parched, rock encrusted rolling hills and mountains covered with a fynbos of low heather-like shrubs and proteas occasionally accentuated by taller, lone trees and dry riverbeds crisscrossed the landscape. During the South African spring, in October, it bursts with flowers, but it was July, still winter. The area endures extreme heat during the summer. Fortunately for us recent winter rains had spurred some greenery to burst forth and aloe plants to bloom. 
We stopped in Ladismith, a rural farming community where Vincent, Donna’s friend from seminary, first pastored a church, and enjoyed its colonial Dutch architecture.
The heat can do strange things to the mind and sometime in the 1970’s Ronnie thought a farm stand on this desolate stretch of highway through the karoo would be a good idea. Fortunately, his buddies realized it was destined for failure and would soon be another abandoned building along the road if something wasn’t done. One night they painted SEX into the name of the shop and suggested he open a bar. They saved his butt! Famous now worldwide as a dive bar in the middle of nowhere, it draws in the curious. It’s not the raunchy place the name implies, filled with frustrated farmers between ostrich roundups. A grey bearded Ronnie, now a cause célèbre, still pours drinks at the bar. It has a tired, dusty bar area filled with foreign money plastered to the walls and lingerie hanging from the ceiling, but aside from that it’s a wholesome oasis with a covered patio where you can get a decent burger with fries, ice cream and coffee along with some hard stuff if that’s your drink. It’s not worth a detour, but if you are on the R62 traveling between Barrydale and Ladismith, it’s worth the stop. Actually, it’s the only place to stop.
We zoomed past the small village of Barrydale on our way to Montagu, so we could explore the town a little before nightfall. The farming community is in a valley surrounded by the Langeberg mountain range and has many examples of late 19th century Cape Dutch architecture scattered about town. Ornate gables, thatched roofs, whitewashed walls and occasionally gingerbread trim define the style, but there are modern interpretations also.
In a country not known for Art Deco we booked ourselves into the 
The temperature drops quickly in the mountains once the sun sets so we enjoyed a local wine, in front of a fireplace, in one of the lounges before dinner. We usually look for a less expensive alternative for dinner, but the hotels’ Wild Apricot Restaurant drew us in with elegant candlelit tables and live piano music. It was the last night of our road trip – we could splurge. With Smoked Ostrich Carpaccio and Springbok Tarta for appetizers followed by Cape Malay Bobotie and Karoo Lamb Pie as mains and a traditional Orange Malva Pudding for dessert, we were splendidly sated.
We followed R62 west through a small tunnel, locally referred to as the “Hole in the Wall,” that was dynamited out in the 1870’s. It’s a dramatic landmark that tells you of your arrival into or departure from the Karoo. As we left our road trip behind, we looked forward to heading to a new apartment in Cape Town.
It’s here that we first noticed the really interesting street murals that could be seen on some of the homes. Not gratuitous bubble-scripted graffiti, but pictorial or political works of art relating to freedom, equality and hope by talented artists that enhanced their surroundings.
In our exploration of Cape Town, we accidentally and to our delight, came across many wonderful murals while walking or driving about. Behind our apartment on Harrington Street a wonderfully, whimsical mural of a dog dreaming about flying, by Belgian artist 
Farther down the street in District 6, across from Charlie’s Bakery, a colorful mural graced the back of a small building in a parking lot, while its front wall featured an understated portrait of Nelson Mandela by 
And at the bus station, under the highway, across from the Gardens Shopping Center the dismal gray walls sprang to life with imagery.
Turns out the Woodstock and Salt River neighborhoods are ground zero for freedom of expression based on the number of street murals we discovered just by driving around. One seemed to lead to another around the corner. 
When we stopped to photograph the mural of the swimming elephant, one of the unofficial parking guards introduced himself as the “curator of street art” and offered to guide us.
Traveling along Victoria Road in the Salt River district, the large mural of a pangolin, painted by Belgian street artist 
The festival is sponsored by 
His style is very distinctive, and we recognized many of his works as we traveled around the Cape. Back in town the exterior wall of Surfstore Africa is playfully illustrated with a giraffe wearing sunglasses.
Our most unexpected discovery happened at the indoor parking garage of the Pick N Pay grocery store in Sea Point. Here several beautiful portraits were painted on the walls of the driving ramp leading from one level to the next. 
Here gale force winds that blow in from Antarctica and colliding warm and cold currents build ferocious waves that can tower to 100 feet high. These seas have claimed over 140 ships since the Portuguese first sailed here in the 1500s. Within sight of the lighthouse, the most recent wreck of a Japanese fishing trawler from 1982 lies on the beach rusting away.
We stayed the night at the 
Afterwards we headed toward Wilderness (the town not the idea,) along a route that traversed barren farmlands and coastal pine forests before skirting the coast again at Mossel Bay. We arrived in time to watch the sunset from our balcony at 
Our room was luxurious and larger than several of the apartments we had rented on our round-the-world journey so far. We were hoping the owners, Leane & Deon, would adopt us. On our sunrise walk the next morning we only sighted a few other folks enjoying the quiet of this vast stretch of pristine beach during the winter season. We noted the considerably warmer weather, a result of the Agulhas Current which swoops warm Indian Ocean currents along the bottom of South Africa and wonderfully moderates the temperature. 
After breakfast we backtracked on N2 to the pullover above the Kaaimans River Railway Bridge. For railroad enthusiasts this was a destination for many years to watch the Outeniqua Choo Tjoe, the last continually operating steam train in Africa, cross the tidal estuary which slowed settlers’ advance along the rugged coast. The line stopped operating in 2006 when landslides destroyed an extensive stretch of track. Today it’s an interesting photo-op. 
Further up the gorge at Map of Africa View Point, raging waters over the eons have eroded a bend in the river to resemble the African continent when viewed from the overlook on the opposite side of the chasm. The sky was empty mid-week, but across the road hundreds of paragliders launch from the grassy slope on the weekends to catch fantastic thermals and awesome views of the coast below.
After spending hours rattling along dusty back roads we rejoiced to be on Route 2 again. A little while later we pulled over and enjoyed a late lunch and sunny afternoon on the outdoor deck of the Cruise Café, which overlooked Knysna Bay. 
We weren’t yet synched to the rhythm of life outside of Cape Town in the off-season and were surprised to find the restaurants and grocery stores in Plettenberg Bay closed when we arrived. Fortunately, we had a wonderful room with an ocean and lagoon view terrace, right on Lookout Beach, at 
The sun rose quickly the next morning from behind the Tsitsikamma Mountains, across the bay, filling our room with light. We spent the early morning slowly sipping coffee and savoring the view. Upon checkout we were delighted to find a sparkling clean car. This was a wonderful service the hotel provided for guests, and an easy way for the gardener to earn some extra money.
We kept to a strict schedule, and limited our stops for photos today, because we needed to be at 
Three guides and three open-sided 4×4 Toyota safari trucks, each capable of seating 16 people, were waiting for their respective groups at the reserve’s headquarters. Wonderfully, it was mid-week in the off-season, and we had Edward, our guide/naturalist, and truck all to ourselves, while the other two trucks left with groups of six each. Schotia’s 4,000 acres of gently rolling hills, bush and forest shelter approximately 2,000 animals from 40 mammal species and its’s amazing how difficult it can be to find them. 
But that was our goal as we rattled along the rutted paths to a high vantage point within the reserve, that provided distant views of the terrain surrounding us. Scanning the vista with binoculars, Edward was searching for elephants, giraffes, antelopes and zebra. “The animals are constantly on the move. We’re never really sure where they will be,” Edward offered. He seconded with, “There’s clouds of dust being kicked up over there. Can’t tell from here what they are, but let’s go investigate.” And our overlanding began, chasing a cloud of dust that turned out to be a small herd of white faced Blesbok, a stunning antelope species we weren’t familiar with.
Sightings of impala, kudu, wildebeest, warthogs, cape buffalo, zebra, hippos and crocodiles rounded out the afternoon.
On the way back to the lapa we encountered the hippos we had seen earlier, now grazing far from their waterhole. Large black masses, they were barely visible when out of the headlights.
Glasses of wine and a large, warming fire greeted us when we returned to the lapa for dinner. Inland the temperature fell quickly, and the warmth from the flames felt good.
Darkness covered the countryside early in June, the beginning of South Africa’s winter season. Our guide had just lit the oil lamps a few minutes earlier, handed us a walkie-talkie and said, “Use this to call the owner if there’s an emergency, you’re the only folks here tonight.’’ The owner lived somewhere on the other side of this vast reserve. There were no other lights around except for the moon. The bush has a life of its own and sounds totally different in the darkness.
We didn’t plan on being the only folks at the game reserve during the middle of the week, but that’s one of the benefits of off-season travel. Following spring-like conditions around the globe, we’ve been able to avoid hot, humid weather and the crowds, while managing to have some wonderful experiences along the way. Tomorrow, Edward would guide us through Addo Elephant National Park.
The eastern cape was once home to tremendous herds of elephant which were hunted by the Xhosa and the Khoe (Khoi) tribes for sustenance, and much like the American Plains Indians and buffalo it did not end well. As colonization spread across the region in the 1700 and 1800s the tribes succumbed to smallpox and were pushed into different regions, and the elephants were slaughtered to near extinction for their ivory and to protect farming interests in the region. With the killing of 1400 elephants in 1919, public opinion slowly turned. Only eleven elephants remained when Addo Park was established in 1931 with 5600 acres. 
The park was enclosed with an elephant proof fence in 1954, to protect the surrounding citrus farms from their rampages, when the size of the herd had rebounded to 22 elephants. Today the park is the third largest in South Africa and encompasses 1,700,000 acres. Home to over 600 elephants now, the reserve has expanded its mission to protect a growing number of mammal species within its borders.
We could have done a self-drive tour through Addo, but we thoroughly enjoyed Edward’s knowledge of wildlife and the region. It was a good decision. Sitting up high in an SUV provided better visibility into the bush, where in our small rental car we wouldn’t have been able to see much. And his timing was perfect in getting us to a waterhole just as a very large herd with calves was creating a trail of dust as it emerged from the surrounding dry bush.
We witnessed elephants smiling as they drank. It was a tremendous experience.
This would be Donna’s fourth trip to Cape Town and my first. Back in 1993 she visited friends she had made while attending Princeton Seminary, and a year later in 1994 she volunteered to be an International Observer for the first free and fair democratic elections in South Africa. In 2016 she returned to a city humming with positive energy and a growing economy. Unfortunately, this situation did not continue, and by 2019 the governance and economy of South Africa and its neighboring countries had stalled. The city was still beautiful and growing as a tourist destination, an amazing coffee culture had been born, but shuttered construction projects and an increasing homeless population were evident, and across many different socioeconomic groups, people were feeling disenfranchised. A multi-year drought exasperated many infrastructure problems that were being neglected. Fortunately, exceptional winter rains broke the severe drought and replenished the city’s nearly depleted reservoirs.
We immersed ourselves quickly into the neighborhood around our first apartment on Buitenkant Street, just a few blocks away from the District Six Museum, steam punk themed 
On the edge of the City Bowl and Zonnebloem districts, formerly District Six, our high-rise apartment building had a rooftop gym with fantastic views of the city, a 24hr doorman, gated parking and balconies with beautiful views of Table and Lion’s Head mountains. But the area immediately around us was in transition, without enough residential housing to call it a neighborhood.
![IMG_7861[42783]](https://2suitcasesfor2years.files.wordpress.com/2020/02/img_786142783.jpg?w=272&h=363 "IMG_7861[42783]")
We had to find a dentist also, as just before our flight into Cape Town one of my crowns broke. Fortunately, South Africa is recognized for good medical and dental care and is slowly becoming a medical tourism destination. I found Dr. Ramjee on Google Maps, checked his reviews and made an appointment at his office which was within walking distance of our apartment. With his jovial and comforting manner, I instantly felt at ease. Though only a one dental chair office he had a state-of-the-art digital x-ray machine, a dental assistant and a receptionist. Besides the broken crown, I needed a root canal as well – what fun! My experiences with Dr. Ramjee were excellent and I raved so much about him Donna decided to use his services when the need arose for an emergency root canal and crown also. Unexpected expenses that in the states would be costly, even with insurance, were much more affordable and payable out of pocket here. The savings were tremendous.
You just can’t walk enough miles along the coast or up and down Loin’s Head to keep the calories off in this foodie-oriented city. The Saturday- and Sunday-only food markets didn’t help, but they are a treasured tradition, throughout the region, that brings family, friends and tourists together to enjoy live music and good food.
In early June the castle hosted the 2019 Cape Town Coffee Festival which celebrated all things caffeinated with growers from across the continent, barista workshops and pop-up coffee stands. If you ever wanted to see thousands of folks ricocheting off the walls from too much free coffee, this was the place to be.
The coffee festival coincided with the Red Bull Cape Town Circuit where their F1 Aston Martin Red Bull racing car roared down Darling Street at over 150mph, passing the spot where Nelson Mandela addressed the nation upon his release from Robben Island, and turning the stretch in front of city hall, lined with bleachers, into a high-speed drag strip. At the intersections, souped-up street cars burned rubber and spun donuts while the Red Bull Air Force performed aerial acrobatics over the city. It was a raucous day that we could hear from our apartment.
Families and neighbors were intentionally sent to different communities to break the spirit of the people. The apartheid government was so vile it “regarded the district as both physically and morally tainted by miscegenation, wholly unfit for rehabilitation” and flattened every building except for Churches. Even the original streets were destroyed, and new roadways were created so folks couldn’t find their homes, now vacant lots, that they legally owned. Much of the area still remains abandoned. The District Six Museum commemorates this tragedy and the lasting heartbreak of this cruelty.
Despite our apartment’s faults, we enjoyed our time on Buitenkant Street. Watching the brilliant sunrises and the flat clouds – the tablecloth of Table Mountain – cover the summit and then spill down the side like a waterfall. The street life below spanned the gamut from groups of tutu-clad race walkers one day to noisily protesting sex workers or Fridays for Future demonstrators the next.
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When we retired early, a year ago, we had to choose health insurance or travel. We made the decision to go without U.S. health insurance, because it’s too damn unaffordable and wouldn’t cover us outside the U.S. anyway. We chose travel insurance instead, with medical evacuation, and we pay out of pocket for wellness care and dentistry. Our two years on the road will bridge us until age 65 when we qualify for Medicare. And it’s surprising how affordable excellent healthcare is in other countries. We’ve paid $25.00 for an emergency room visit to a private hospital and $5.00 for the prescriptions in Ecuador to treat high altitude sickness. Our travel insurance paid fully for a visit to an ENT specialist in Lisbon to treat a persistent sinus infection. I’ve visited dentists in Cuenca, Ecuador for a tooth extraction and bridge; Sofia, Bulgaria for a broken filling; and Cape Town, South Africa for a root canal. The care has been excellent and extremely inexpensive compared to pricing in the United States. Though when we are in the United States travel insurance only covers us if we are one hundred miles away from our previous home in Pennsylvania.
We plan on purchasing a home when we return to the United States. Right now, though, our budget is plus/minus $1000.00 per month for an apartment. One thousand per month for housing goes much further overseas than in the states and allows us to live in unique and interesting locales.![IMG_3666[31053]](https://2suitcasesfor2years.files.wordpress.com/2019/07/img_366631053.jpg?w=226&h=301 "IMG_3666[31053]")
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We’ve rented cars in Ecuador, Guatemala, Portugal, Bulgaria and South Africa. Near the Schist villages in the mountains of central Portugal we gave a lift to two hikers, who were exhausted from a long trek without water. We ended up having a delightful afternoon and lunch with them. Aside from the deeply rutted dirt roads of the Andes Mountain range in Ecuador, South Africa with its driving on the left has proven to be the most difficult. We find that a pilot plus navigator system works well, with the latter reminding the pilot to stay left and make very wide right-hand turns. Interesting traffic signs dot the roads here: Caution Tortoise and Baboons Share this Road Too, Watch for Stray Cattle. I chuckled to myself when I passed a sign that I thought said Zebras Humping, only to realize a moment later it was a speed bump when I hit it at a pretty good clip. Caution High Winds – Parents Hold Your Children Firmly by the Hand as there is Mortal Danger of Them Blowing Off, greeted us in the parking lot of a scenic and windy overlook. South Africa has a well deployed and concealed electronic camera system and we’ve received our first notice of a traffic violation from the rental car company. 
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2 Suitcases for 2 years 