African Adventure - Installment TEN

Our second Friday in Africa arrived both too quickly, and not too quickly enough. Though we were having a blast and enjoying time with our friends, there are certain longings for home that can't be satisfied no matter how many kit-kats and Coca-Colas one drinks.

Noon on Friday was our deadline to be packed up and ready to make the drive from Maseru to Johannesburg, so that we could board our flight back to the States, but JoAnna had arranged one final Basotho adventure for us. Outside of Maseru stands a mountain called Thaba Bosiu, which is, in many ways, the cradle of the Basotho culture. It's less of a mountain and more of a large plateau on which King Moshoeshoe (pronounced Mo Shway Shway) first settled his clan to protect them from raids by neighboring tribes. Legend has it that Thaba Bosiu - the "night mountain" - would double in size at night, thus protecting its inhabitants. From the vantage point of Thaba Bosiu one can also see another mountain that provided the inspiration for the Basotho Hat - a woven straw hat with a distinctive ball-like decoration at the top.

Mshoeshoe I is also buried on Thaba Bosiu, and for these reasons the Basotho people consider a visit to to the top of the mountain a "must do" experience for visitors, and with this in mind JoAnna arranged for the clinic driver to take us and their two American Residents (who had finished a month long rotation as part of their medical training at the HIV clinic) out to the mountain.

As I mentioned, we needed to be back at the apartment in Maseru to meet Paul and JoAnna at noon so that we could avoid any night driving into Johannesburg. We got off to a bit of a late start, but Ntate Lesupi (the driver for the clinic) did his best to make up time on the road and we made it to Thaba Bosiu with time to do a quick dash to the top.

We weren't out of the car more than 5 seconds before we were greeeted by a man whom we took to be the director of tourism for Thaba Bosiu. We told him that we'd like to hike to the top and asked if he could provide a guide for us. We also mentioned that we were in a hurry and that we'd need to be fast. "Oh, Okay," he said, and then proceeded to give us a 15 minute lecture on the history of the mountain. The lecture was very difficult to understand, but I was a bit enchanted by his use the guttural clicks that serve as syllables in some of the tribal words he was using. He eventually finished his lecture and led us into a small hut so that we could pay our "very small fee" for climbing up the mountain.

He also introduced us to our guide. With another mention of our noon deadline, we greeted our guide and crossed the road to the trail that immediately shot straight up the side of the mountain. We four Americans charged up the side of the hill, intent on seeing all that there was to see at this important national monument in an hour or less, and quickly noticed that we had left our guide trailing behind us. Liz and I dropped back to chat with her a bit, and struck up the conversation by asking her name. Her response: "Patience." So, with our ironically (or prophetically) named guide we slowly worked our way to the top of the plateau.

(Our guide, Patience dressed in full pink...sweater and pants, on the left with Chris and Bic - two medical residents at
the HIV clinic)

The top of Thaba Bosiu is considered a sacred space as it is the resting ground of King Moshoeshoe and his successors. Each visitor to the final resting place of the kings is to find a rock on the ground, spit on it, and add it to the pile of similarly treated rocks as a sign of respect to the space. We did as instructed and proceeded to the burial site of the kings.

(This is actually the grave of Moshoeshoe II, we don't have a photo for Moshoeshoe I)

Finally, as our departure time was drawing closer, Liz asked Patience if she could guide us to some rock paintings that were known to be in the area. Patience assured us that she knew a shortcut, and led us down the backside of the plateau in search of the paintings.

Along the way we noticed that the path was becoming less of a path, and that Patience was now spending quite a bit of time on her cell phone. The time at which we needed to be on our way back to the city had come and gone, and finally Patience announced that she did not know where the paintings were - she had been trying to get directions on her phone!

The words had barely escaped her mouth when Ntate Lesupi (who had accompanied us on the hike in his smartly pressed slacks and wingtips) announced that he had found the paintings. We all gathered for a quick look, discussed their authenticity, and then hustled as fast as we could back to the car to make our way back to Maseru.

(The rock paintings - they are very difficult to see)

In the end, we were quite late in leaving for Johannesburg, and did, in fact, spend some time in the car at night, but we made it to our Bed and Breakfast without incident.

We weren't staying in Johannesburg proper, but rather one of the wealthier suburbs outside of the city. After finding the inn and the innkeeper, we parked our car behind the walls that surrounded our lodgings, closed the gate behind us thus securing the perimeter behind the electrified fence, and walked a block or two into the downtown area.

We were greeted with about two dozen very hip bars and restaurants and a happening nightlife scene populated by fashionably dressed, young South Africans who made us look quite out of place in our chaco sandals and cargo shorts amidst the parade of high-heeled women and men in shiny button-up shirts. We sent the best dressed of our party -JoAnna - into an appealing looking restaurant and she secured a table for us. After a fantastic dinner (I ate grilled ostrich - which was almost indistinguishable from steak) we headed back to our rooms to get some sleep, and get ready for our tour of Soweto the next day.

Liz and I beat Paul and JoAnna to breakfast and were just finishing up as they sat down. Breakfast was good - eggs cooked to order and a spread of fruits, cheeses, granola, and pastries. Only moments after eating his first bite of granola, Paul realized something was drastically wrong. It's his story to tell so we'll let you read his version by clicking here. It's truly worth reading!

Up next...our tour of Soweto guided by Max of Max Maximum Tours. He was later renamed "MAD Max Maximum" but we'll get to that next time.