Kruger Park and Ngwenya Lodge

So here we are at the Kruger for our annual week in paradise.

Friday

We left early in the morning from Johannesburg and arrived yesterday afternoon. We have hired a Mercedes Benz Vito diesel bus for the seven of us, which is very comfortable and gives some necessary height when looking for animals. Add to that the facts that it has climate control, cruise control and a good music system and we are very happy. It pulls a 6 foot trailer with ease.

We stopped at Klipeiland Slaghuis (Stone Island Butchery) in Bronkhorstspruit, some 2 hours drive from Johannesburg, famed for its fresh meat at low prices. Since we were last there, a year ago, the owners have had a 6 foot steel fence erected with one-at-a-time controlled access in and out and a metal detector. They evidently had an armed robbery recently in which one staff member was killed and they are now taking no chances. We stocked up on steaks, chops and boerewors (sausage), crammed it into the cooler box and continued on our way.

Next stop was “Millie’s”, set on the edge of a small dam, somewhere near Waterval Boven, in the rolling green hills of Mpumalanga. A cup of coffee and a Cornish pastie later, we were again on the road. I took over the driving. Once I had figured out and gotten used to the 6 speed manual transmission and the handbrake which is actually a footbrake, I enjoyed the experience. The road is very picturesque as one descends the escarpment to Nelspruit (now renamed eMalahleni). It was a coolish overcast day and even in Nelspruit the car was only registering 20 Celsius. As we descended further towards the Mozambique border it climbed steadily to 25.

The last 10km or so of our journey was on a sand road. A bit rutted but nothing too concerning. Our chalet at the lodge was ready for us and we greeted it like an old friend. First stop was the patio, to survey the Crocodile River flood plain and see whether there was anything afoot. As expected there were some waterbuck grazing downstream, toilet seat marks on their bums visible even at a distance. Some very muddy brown looking elephant were mooching around on the far bank upstream.

First up was a swim in our favourite pool. The water is generally around 30 degrees Celsius which is fine for us, coming from the Deep South as we do. Then back to the chalet for afternoon tea and some of Mom-in-law’s special German Christmas cake. We contemplated a game drive but decided to rather just watch from the patio as the afternoon faded. As it turned out, we didn’t see much more in the way of big game, but were rewarded with a Purple Crested Loerie alighting in a tree just a few metres away from the edge of the patio and remaining there some 5 minutes while she ate her fill of berries. As if that wasn’t enough she then flew into the large marula tree which is right in front of the chalet and jumped from one branch to another so that we could get a really good view. They are the most beautiful birds, particularly when they fly and one gets a glimpse of brilliant red, and their calling from the treetops brings back many memories of kwaZulu Natal to us.

At five I started the braai and half an hour later the pork chops and boerewors were sizzling away merrily and the beers and Brutal Fruits steadily disappearing. Later we uncorked a bottle of Shiraz and that disappeared as well. There is something about sitting with family, sipping a good wine, smelling the braai, watching the sun set over the bushveld and listening to the birds’ dusk chorus, which I find most agreeable and of which I doubt I shall ever tire. Reminds me of the John Denver song “Poems, prayers and promises”, which has the words, “Lie there by the fire and watch the evening tire, while all the friends and my old lady sit and pass the pipe around...” Well, this wasn’t West Virginia and we didn’t pass any pipe around, but we made short work of the Shiraz and we did watch the evening tire, so much so that I needed to go for a walk and swim before bed. I should mention that because of the heat and humidity, sleeping normally requires having the air-conditioner and the fan on all night. We also had to sort out whether the princesses would be happy to sleep in the lounge, as they have in previous years, given that a spider had been sighted in the vicinity. In the end they did. So we retired weary, partly on account of the Shiraz, but happy to be back in the bush.

Saturday

This morning I was up at 5.30. In a Lowveld summer, that is actually long after sunrise and long after the animals and birds have started their day. It was still cool enough to sit comfortably on the patio and watch for birds and animals. Gradually the others started rising and soon we had a group on the patio, sipping coffee, passing the binoculars around, checking the bird book, enjoying the morning. A quick swim cleared the remaining cobwebs from the brain and then we were ready for a game drive. We all piled into the Bus and headed for Crocodile Bridge, only to find out that the level of the river had come up during the night and the bridge was closed. So it was all the way back to Malelane, some 40 km or so. There seemed to be a lot of people trying to enter the park via that gate when we got there. We were directed to a parking spot in a side road and as soon as we had our passes sorted out we were requested to move inside since our parking space was required (which we gladly did). We needed diesel so headed for Bergendal, 12km inside the park. It is one of the loveliest of the rest camps, nestled into a river valley in the more mountainous south west corner of the Park, overlooking a dam.

We got our diesel, bought some drinks and (our favourite) ice lollies and went and sat on a bench overlooking the dam. We were rewarded with a sighting of a large crocodile making its slow and steady way across the dam, a hippo wallowing in the shallows further upstream and quite a few water-birds, some of which we were able to identify. A Fish Eagle kept calling from across the dam, always a haunting but welcome reminder that one is in the African bush.

We walked down the Rhino Trail. There is a rather sad memorial to a 25 year old ranger student who lost his life there to a leopard attack in 1998. There is also a warning that one uses the trail at one’s own risk and that one should refrain from using it after dark. They have labelled the trees, so I was able to renew my acquaintance with some old friends like the sausage tree and the sycamore fig. I love bushveld trees and the one regret I have about living at the coast is that the wind and salt and poor quality of the soil preclude me from ever having such noble giants in my garden.

We took a slow drive back to Malelane. Somewhere along the tar road there was a small herd of elephant, browsing the foliage. One was a juvenile and we got some good photo’s.

Also a largish herd of impala with many young. A giraffe and one or two warthogs completed the picture and then on the way out a leguaan, another large croc and a pod of mostly submerged hippo in the Crocodile River and its verges and sandbanks.

We stopped in at Malelane Pick ‘n Pay on the way back to the Lodge to pick up some groceries and then headed home. Apart from a solitary hippo wandering around the flood plain there wasn’t much going on, so it was a choice of a swim or a sleep and those of us over forty opted for the latter.

Now it is twilight, the braai is on, the citronella candle burning, the first beer cancelled and the first glass of red on its way. Tonight we have beef steaks and boerewors. Another day in paradise. There is a reason I have looked forward to this week for the whole year. I can feel myself unwinding even as the hippo’s grunt, the night jars jar and the dikkops dik. Perfect.

Sunday

Today we managed to get our act together a lot earlier. Some were up before 5, all by 6. I phoned the Crocodile Bridge camp at 5.30 and again at 6 – they politely told me they were still waiting for the ranger to make a decision, so we cut our losses and headed for Malelane Gate, some 30 km further away. There was already quite a queue there when we arrived before 7, but we finally managed to complete formalities and headed off up the H3 in the direction of Skukuza. Only a few km into the park some 4-5 cars were stopped and we were thrilled to see two adult male lions, one lying next to the road in the grass, the other actually lying in the road. They looked pretty battle scarred. We were able to get a good quantity of close ups and a really good view before moving on and letting others have a look. We thought these were probably two old boys just enjoying their retirement. They certainly didn’t look in a hurry to do anything.

A few minutes later we spotted 6 or so white rhino about 50m from the road, peacefully grazing – they really are like large cows.

Around 9 we pulled into the Afsaal picnic spot. We had come well prepared with skottel braai, gas cylinder and cooler box. We found a sturdy table under a large shady tree and set up the gear. Then it was bacon, halved tomatoes, sliced mushrooms sizzling away and finally eggs to your liking, scrambled or fried. All laid down on bread and washed down with fruit squash. Magnificent. Even herself relented from her usual All-bran and yoghurt and partook of the feast.

The bonus of visiting Afsaal is that they have a resident Scops owl which lives in the tree in the picnic ground. We have seen it before but it is always special. Today he was sitting dozing on a low branch. The authorities have fenced off the area so you can’t get closer than 6 feet or so, but that is quite adequate. It is a small owl, maybe 6 inches high. There is a large notice saying please don’t use a flash – this didn’t deter the fellow behind us who clicked away 2 or 3 times with his flash on. Sigh.

We phoned Crocodile Bridge and ascertained that it was still closed so decided to turn right to the untarred S23 Nyamiti Loop which runs back toward Malelane and is famous for its sightings. Not far from the turnoff there were a couple of vultures (lappet faced and white headed) and an eagle (tawny) tearing away at some dead animal, we thought a bird. One kept chasing the others off and they would go and perch nearby giving us good opportunity to make the identification although photographs were difficult. We have seen lots of vultures and raptors before but usually circling and soaring or sitting at the top of a tree at a distance, which makes it difficult to identify them.

Near to Malelane we came upon 4 white rhino – 3 adults and 1 suckling juvenile – resting in the shade of a tree. I have never seen anything quite that large breastfeeding, but there is a first time for everything.

It was really getting hot so we exited from the Malelane gate and headed back to the Lodge. Crossing the bridge we got a good sighting of a solitary hippo foraging in the grass, attended by some 10 or so cattle egrets. They were clearly irritating him because, after trying unsuccessfully to get away from them, he went back into the cool depths of the Crocodile River.

We picked up some mangoes from an informal vendor near the N4 and drove home. Back at our chalet we were greeted by the sight of a lone saddle billed stork walking slowly up the far bank. He was too far away to get a good shot – as these are endangered species, with less than 200 birds in Africa, there is a competition running for photo’s of saddlebills. Then he changed course and “storked” away into the bush. Magnificent bird – hope he’ll be back. Refreshed after a swim (although the water temperature must have been more than 30 Celsius), I sat in the coolth of our air-conditioned chalet, enjoying a cold Coke and updating this travelogue.

Later, while the pork rashers and boerewors were sizzling and spitting on the braai, and we were sitting on the patio with our sundowners, there was some excitement from the binoculars committee – a herd of waterbuck on the far bank were running, seemingly quite alarmed at something they had seen or heard or smelt. An animal was spotted in the bushes a hundred metres away or so. We thought it at first to be a hyaena, but it turned out to be a leopard. We had a good sighting and then it turned away from the river and headed north. Then the light faded and we saw no more, so we devoted ourselves to devouring the meal - the meat was supplemented with mieliepap, tomato and onion “smoor”, and a green salad – and cancelling a good bottle of du Toit’s Kloof Cabernet Sauvignon. The dry hot wind gave way to a stronger and cooler one, and the sky darkened, lit every few seconds by sheet or fork lightning or both in the distance – quite spectacular. No rain though. Or not yet.

Monday

This morning it is cooler and drizzling. There is low cloud, almost mist over the Crocodile River. I slept better – my cold seems to be on the mend. I was up before six and went for a walk through the grounds of the Lodge. This really is a very beautiful resort. I think having been here a long time it has had a chance to grow organically, if you know what I mean, rather than being planned by some landscaper. The trees are old. Up near the central swimming pools there are two examples, right next to one another, of a fig having grown right next to / on top of another tree, wrapping its loving arms around it and pretty much strangling it, although the host trees are still alive. I saw a lovely tall tambuti (spirostachys) which reminded me of a game walk in the Umfolozi many years ago during which the old Zulu ranger warned us sternly of the dangers of using this wood for a cooking fire – it evidently emits some sort of toxin which causes acute diarrhoea and vomiting. He gave us a graphic depiction of the “tambuti dance” which follows such unwise behaviour, mimicking the actions of the unfortunate victim who is producing copiously at both ends.

There are lots of birds around in the early morning. An Egyptian goose was sitting on our roof honking cacophonously, calling his mate from the river bed, who refused to join him – so he just carried on ... and on ...and on. I’ve known some marriages like that! I saw the usual residents – masked weaver, black eyed bulbul. There were some cute and very pretty little birds busying themselves in the undergrowth, about the size of Cape white-eyes, but with orangey legs, but as I had neither the binoculars nor the bird book with me, I could not identify them. By the time I got back to the chalet I had forgotten what they looked like. Sod’s law. I find the little birds very difficult, as I expect does everyone else.

The two professional buffalo were lying on a sand bank just down from our chalet. Our impression is that these two are old fellows who are spending their last days of retirement in the relative peace and serenity of the Crocodile River flood plain. We may be entirely wrong – they may be youngsters who have been kicked out of the herd – what do I know? – but they look old to us. I guess eventually the crocs or lions or a leopard will take them down, but for the moment they look peaceful and contented. When the summer sun beats down they lie half submerged, cooling their “unders”. I think I’ll look for such a spot for my own retirement. Somewhere with birdsong, running water, a good view and a place to cool my unders every so often.

We had a lazy day on account of the weather. Drove into Komatipoort and did a little shopping. Had a look at the Crocodile Bridge on the way home – still closed and likely to remain so for a while. Went to see the resident estate agent here about upgrading our unit to an 8 sleeper and/or getting a second week in June/July – both unaffordable it turns out. They want about R130 000 for a week for an 8 sleeper.

Noone too keen to do much this afternoon so I decided to go for a run. Ran towards Crocodile Bridge on the dirt road and stopped at Buckler’s Africa, which is a B and B. I guess it took me about 45 minutes which means it was around 5 km each way. So a 10km run – not too bad considering I haven’t run for 2 weeks or so. When I got back I had a look around the new units at what is called Hippo Bend. Very posh, very impressive. As I said, not affordable. We then had about 90 minutes of tennis – nothing serious, just knocking the ball around, ages ranging from 9 to 46. It was fun. Dropped in at the office to hand in some lost property, request assistance with our chalet’s safe and took the opportunity to complain about the quad bikes I had noticed being driven around by kids who couldn’t have been more than 12, some with and some without helmets and to crown it all, smaller kids on the back. Management said they weren’t aware. My arse. Nice relaxed evening in front of the TV for a change. Lights out at ten as we want to be up early for a game drive.

Tuesday

Well we didn’t make it up as early as we had hoped to. One of us rose at 4 but the rest gradually dragged themselves out of bed around 5.30 to 6 and we only left at 6.30. Overnight the river had swollen considerably. For one thing it had become a deal more audible, even from inside the chalet. But it was also visibly swollen – sandbanks which were there yesterday had disappeared and it just looked broader and swifter and fuller. We did even both checking at Crocodile Bridge - we knew what the answer would be. So we resigned ourselves to the trek up to Malelane and in that gate. It was quieter than yesterday and we were through the gate in next to no time. We took the tarred road to Bergendal and then the dirt road which loops around back to the H1. We weren’t particularly lucky with the animals – just a few buck and a few birds. Possibly a pair of dwarf mongooses – they did not hang around long enough for us to be sure. Not much else.

Back on the H1 we did get to see some elephant close up, including a fellow who was presumably either trying to push a tree over or else ripping off and eating the bark.

We made our way back to Malelane Gate and actually exited but changed our minds. We drove back up the H1 to Afsaal, where we had breakfasted the previous Sunday. Only problem was that this time we didn’t have cooking stuff nor cutlery. So we bought a full breakfast each for R35 a head from the friendly fellow at the counter and sat down to await our breakfast. It was well worth it – what more can I say.

After a good breakfast we carried on up the H1 and then turned left towards the Orpen Gate. They let us out, surprisingly. We programmed “Patricia”, the satnav, to take us home and she led us through some fairly good looking areas in the outskirts of White River, then past Nelspruit and the Mpumalanga International Airport and back onto the N4. We elected to go all the way through to Komatipoort and then double back to Ngwenya rather than go via Maloth Park, since the latter entails more dirt road. We arrived home just in time for our tennis booking and spent a pleasant 90 minutes on the court knocking balls around with the kids, followed by a swim. Supper was chicken curry, to give us a break from braaivleis, washed down with Tulbagh Winery Cabernet Suavignon, which was very pleasant.

Wednesday

Today is a public holiday in South Africa – Day of Reconciliation, or some such. One doesn’t really notice it here. I got up around 6 and went for a walk through the grounds of the Lodge. I had noticed that someone has kindly labelled about half the trees here – and there are many – and wanted to take some photo’s and notes of them so that I would better remember and be able to identify them in future. It was wonderful to have this crash revision course, relearning many of the Latin names which I used to know when we lived in kwaZulu Natal in the 80’s and 90’s. One thing about trees – they don’t fly or run away the way birds and animals do! I had a very pleasant hour and a half being a tree journalist and hope to complete the job tomorrow or Friday.

We had a late and leisurely breakfast on the patio – fired up the skottel and made French toast which was consumed with jam or chutney depending on one’s taste, washed down with numerous cups of coffee. It was obviously going to be a hot day so every few hours we have been dunking ourselves in the pool. Not much in the way of big game in the flood plain today – a rhino, a hippo, some impala. Some nice birds though – black stork, black crake, dikkop, red bishop, woodland kingfisher, puffback, purple crested loerie, fish eagle, cattle egret, blacksmith plover, goliath heron and a few others. The princesses have been playing minigolf / putt putt and then tennis but those of us pushing senescence have been taking it easy on the patio or on the bed, although we did manage a walk around the estate just before dinner time. Dinner was a braai again – my responsibility this time – pork chops and boerewors, with savoury rice and salad, chocolate for afters, washed down with KWV Sauvignon Blanc and then some Amarula Cream, as the sun set over the Crocodile River Flood Plain. Life does not get much better...

Thursday

Last day of the holiday. We were determined to make the most of it and get into the Park early. By 5.30 we were driving. Of course Crocodile Bridge was still closed so we went through Komatipport to get diesel. The attendant tried to tell me my petrocard was invalid. Then he told me the garage doesn’t accept credit cards. So after I had muttered dark things about his ancestors, we gave him someone else’s which worked. A few minutes later we discovered a second garage selling diesel for about 10% less. Such is life. Move on.

Half an hour later we turned off the N4 for Malelane gate, expecting a queue of about 10 people at the office and no problem parking. It turned out we were number 47 in the queue of cars and could not even get in the gate or over the bridge. After some investigation we worked out it would take us around 2 and a half hours just to get in so we elected to drive up and around to the Numbi gate. This route takes in an extra R42 toll and about 90km of driving but rather that than sit in a queue for 2 and a half hours.

We duly found Numbi gate, where there was no queue at all. Strange. We enetered the park and followed the S3 up towards the Phabeni gate. It meanders through terminalia woodlands, hilly country. We saw rhino, brown snake eagle and some other odds and ends. We stopped at Phabeni, had a look at some “Albasini archeological ruins” – a house built by a Portueguese trader and his Afrikaans wife in the mid 19^th century. We found a picnic spot and did the skottel – bacon, scrambled egg, mushrooms, tomatoes and bread. No coffee but we survived.

After breakfast we continued following the S3 as it winds along the course of the Sabie River in the direction of Skukuza. Back on the tar road (H1) we came upon a zebra kill. The predators, whatever they were, had left, and the site was abuzz with vultures, mostly Cape and white backed, one lappet faced. Consensus seemed to be that they are impressive if ugly creatures. I think we mostly felt sorry for the zebra, but that is nature. We dropped in at Skukuza and got some frozen juices. These are life savers ion the Park – the temperature outside today is well into the thirties and even with aircon the bus gets pretty hot. The juices are ice cold, last a long time and actually quite tasty. Most of all they are cheap.

Now we are heading back, probably our last game drive, down the H3 toward Malelane. So far a lot of elephants including a nursery herd in a lush river bed and some bulls in twos and threes really close to the road. Some interesting birdlife. Radio Jacaranda keeping us company with some reasonable music and some really awful Christmas adverts. Guess everyone has to turn a buck.

We ended off the holiday with pizza’s at the Lodge restaurant. The view was tremendous, the pizza’s were delicious, the beers were warm and the service was atrocious, even though our waitress was pleasant. But it didn’t really matter – we had a good meal and then went back to the chalet for Amarula and coffee and sorting out the budget (yay!). Another year’s dose of the bush has come and gone. Now all that is left is to look forward to next year’s. The Kruger Park isn’t going anywhere. Ngwenya Lodge isn’t going anywhere. For all the minor irritations they are still an amazing natural resource and it is a privilege coming and spending a week in their company.

Friday

Up at 5 as I really wanted a last walk around the grounds. Found some trees I had missed on the last walk and added them to the list. Saw a pari of Golden Aurioles and a Blue Waxbill, so we can add them as well. The Orioles were in an avenue of Cassurina trees (in the bordering farmlands - they are planted as windbreaks I think). They are aliens and get a lot of bad press but on that walk I saw more birds in the Cassurina's than in the indigenous fever trees! Back at the Chalet we had a leisurely breakfast and started packing up. There were two white rhino down near the river, just taking it easy. Also some waterbuck.

By 9 we had everything packed and the trailer hitched up. Said some fond farewells and "see you next year"'s to our neighbours, and hit the road. It took about an hour to get to the airport - less than we had thought, which gave us time to have a very nice brunch in the Wimpy, which is upstairs and overlooks the apron. I remarked that I am no fan of airports, but that Nelspruit's is actually a nice airport. It is thatched and they have gone to some pains to make it look as natural as possible. It has a shortish runway and I expect cannot handle anything larger than a small jet.

We boarded a little late and found our seats. It was really hot and muggy until we had taken off and climbed a little. The trip was uneventful - they served us sandwiches and drinks and I spent an hour or so editing the holiday photographs on the laptop. There was a moderate south easter blowing in Cape Town so we approached from the north which meant a bit of twisting and turning. The landing was near perfect, I thought. Cape Town's new airport is unfortunately confined to the departures terminal - the domestic arrivals is still as chaotic as ever, but we got our luggage, almost undamaged and with no visible signs of interference, and found our car in the parkade waiting for us. We headed out, straight into rush hour traffic, but it was bearable. Devil's Peak was all but hidden under South Easter cloud; the wind is strong enough to keep your windows closed but the temperature high enough to make you wish you hadn't; Cape Town drivers are still amongst the world's worst; the timing of the traffic lights in Kalk Bay is still supremely idiotic and the weekend music on the local radio station has gotten even worse, if that is possible - but it is good to be home with our dogs and birds, our garden, driving our cars, sleeping in our own bed.

Bamako, Mali (2)

So here are some impressions following 4 days in Bamako, capital of Mali.

The hotel itself, grand though it is, is reasonably priced. That is compared to other hotels in Africa I have stayed in. The currency is about 60 francs to the rand and rooms are about 60 000 francs a night, minus breakfast. That may not sound reasonably but hotels in Dar es Salaam and Maputo where I stayed charge a lot more. R1000 a night is not bad. Even the dump near the airport in Johannesburg where I sometimes stay when I just need a convenient overnight charges more than that.

What has surprised me is the price of the food. I sat at the pool this afternoon and had two Cokes. That cost 3000 francs, R50. In similar circumstances in SA I guess I might be charged R20, maybe R30. But not R50. Breakfast this morning was 11000 francs. That is about R200. I find that outlandish. But one has to eat.

The climate suits me. It is hot during the day but not humid so it is a lot more bearable than for example Dar es Salaam. This afternoon there were swallows everywhere and clouds overhead, with a bit of a wind, but nothing came of it and this evening was calm and beautiful. I guess it is not the rainy season. I am comfortable sleeping without the aircon at night, but one doesn't need any blankets. I had a look in Wikipedia. December is the coolest month of the year with average minimum of 14 Celsius and maximum of 33. You don't want to be here in 6 months time!

Few Malians speak any English, I discovered. Even those in academia. The very senior people do, but not the rank and file. The lingua franca is French and the local language here is Bambara, Clearly one would need to learn French to live or work here. At present mine extends to good day, good night and thank you. The cleaner came in here this morning and asked me about 5 times something about the TV. I tried to understand - I thought they were telling me there was something wrong with it and that they wanted to bring me a new one. So I grunted and nodded and said OK and "bon". Funny how when you're searching for a word in a language you don't know very well, words from other non-English languages pop into your head. With me it is usually Zulu. I kept wanting to say to her "lungile" which means "OK" in Zulu. Odd that. Finally she gave up in exasperation and said to her colleague something about "anglais" and they exited. I still don't know what they wanted.

The president of the country came to open our conference, which impressed me. Back in SA it is difficult even getting the provincial premier to do something like that - most of them are far too high and mighty. He spoke in French, I have no idea what he said, but he seemed very nice. A local colleague told me that he led a successful coup d'etat many years ago, then retired from politics but was persuaded to come out of retirement to run for office and won with a landslide victory. He is reportedly energetic and popular. I shall have to read up on the man.

I haven't had much chance to get out and look around. I was taken to two hospitals on my second day here. I think the best phrase to describe them is "struggling but optimistic". I saw old buildings fitted out with new equipment. I saw patients housed in Red Cross tents because wards were being renovated. The tents were pitched in the middle of what looked like the parking lot. I saw some seriously and chronically ill patients with TB and HIV, but they looked cared for and spoke hopefully about getting better. I didn't get the feeling that they had been abandoned to their own resources, just that the resources which are available are limited.

The city itself has a feeling of space, something I haven't found in e.g. Nairobi or even Cape Town. I haven't felt crowded in here - it feels like one is in a busy town but one can see "the country" not that far away and there aren't throngs upon throngs of people and vehicles pressing in from every side. I think that is it - this is a very large country, although the top half is mainly Sahara Desert I think, but the total population is only about 13 million people.

Tonight we were taken to the National Museum - they had obtained special permission for us to have a tour outside of normal hours - followed by traditional Malian food and music in the grounds of the museum. The museum tour was very interesting. Their exhibits predate anything we have in SA by centuries. One of the more interesting objets d'arte was a burial urn. About the size of a laundry basket I suppose. They explained that because the area it comes from is very wet and the water table there very high, when they buried people they first placed them in these clay pots, in the foetal position, so that they would be protected from the water. Probably makes good public health sense as well. I thought it sounded quite comforting to end life as one began it, going back to the womb as it were.

The music was in two parts. The band came from the south of the country - I forget the details. To start with the line up consisted of drums, bass, 2 electric guitars, an traditional but amplified stringed instrument like a violin, and a couple of female vocalists / dancers. The music was traditional but the lead guitarist's riffs reminded me mostly of Jimi Hendrix! I spoke to a few other guests and several of them agreed. Wondered whether Hendrix ever visited here. The singing was OK but a bit shrieky - evidently that is the accepted style. Then they moved in two large marimba's and some bongo drums. These guys were truly amazing - I had no idea marimba's could be played like that. And the vocals now were male - the lead had a really good tenor voice, and what was more amazing he managed to sing these rather complicated tunes while hammering away on the marimba. Really good. Hope to get one of their CD's tomorrow as a momento. They deserve to go far (and I don't mean the farther the better).

Conferences

Being a keynote speaker at a conference is very stressful. You would think that the more you do it the easier it becomes, but it isn’t like that apparently. The more you do, the better you get, and the more you get asked to give weightier and longer presentations to larger and larger groups of people. What my friends and relatives in the music industry refer to as “high pressure gigs”. I can imagine what Barrack Obama feels like. There again, he doesn’t have to use slides and he has someone to write his speeches. I arrived here 5 days ago. I have attended a few sessions, had meals with one or two people, done a few visits to local institutions, but most of the time I have been closeted in my room on the 8th floor going over and over and over and revising and re-revising this presentation – over and over and over. Rehearsing, making sure it fits the allotted time, correcting spelling errors, checking facts with colleagues – it never ends. This morning I was up at six and at it again. I missed meals. I missed exercising. I missed life, all for this blasted presentation. By lunchtime I was trembling, sweating, felt my stomach churning. Dry mouth, slight tremor, slight nausea. It felt like final exams all over again. The speaker before me was an elderly gent from Brazil whose first language was Portuguese. He was struggling a little with the English presentation and more than a little with the English questions. He seemed to go on for ever. Eventually my turn came. I put my jacket on (why? the temperature here is in the 30’s! Don’t want to offend anyone though). Fortunately I remembered to take a glass of water to the podium – at least I have learned that.

I have a theory that no matter how many times you go through your presentation beforehand, there is always one slide which when it comes up causes you to think “Now where the hell did that come from? Did I write that??” Today it didn’t happen. Maybe I was better prepared. It usually happens when I use other people’s slides – like my boss’s. If you write your own you are more likely to remember why you said whatever is written there.

I dread the question time more than the actual presentation. You always get some bright sparks who feel aggrieved at not having been invited to speak themselves, and take their ire out on you by asking completely obscure questions, totally off the point and utterly unanswerable. I got one of those today. I have learnt that one can either side-step them, deflect them to someone else in the audience (did that twice this afternoon) or play a straight bat and bounce them back to the person who asked them. I suspect teachers use much the same techniques with teenage pupils.
I am not convinced that the use of multimedia has done anything useful for the standard of public speaking. I do it because everyone else does it, but the best addresses I have heard have in fact been delivered either with no visuals at all or with a bare minimum – I remember a talk at a conference some years ago by a professor of history, on the Influenza Epidemic of 1916 or whenever it was. He had one overhead flimsy, which basically gave the headings of his talk, and for the rest he spoke from notes. But he spoke beautifully, enunciated every word, emphasized what needed to be emphasized – it was like poetry. He might have been talking complete twoffle and I would not have minded.

I am also not convinced that these conferences themselves serve any useful purpose at all, apart from providing an opportunity to meet people – other players in the field, experts and authorities, like minded individuals. If, like me, you prefer not to meet such people, then there is little point in going to conferences. Registration for this one was free, being sponsored by the organizers, but I have paid anything from $50 to $1000 to attend a conference in the past. And that is just to get in. Add $200/night for accommodation and food, about $2000 for flights if it is international, $1000 if it is national, and a whole bunch of sundries like visa charges, travel insurance and the like and you are talking about $4000 before you are through. Then there is the time away from the office and all the work that needs to be caught up on later. There’s time away from home and the extra stress on one’s better half and kids. All this to give a 30 minute talk which half the delegates bunk and the other half fall asleep in. Someone must be laughing at us all, and I suspect it is the tourism industry. What a crazy idea. Anyway, the budget brakes are on for next year so I expect I shall be doing a lot less of this sort of thing for a while. I am not sure that I shall miss it.

The other downside of these trips is the toll they take on your diet and exercise schedule. It usually ends up that the costs of some meals are covered and of others not, so one ends up not eating when one should, and eating far too much when one should restrain oneself. I generally don’t sleep too well in hotels. I have a habit of leaving the TV on and falling asleep at right angles on the bed (so that I can watch) and then waking up at some small hour with some really awful movie (they keep the C grade stuff till after midnight) blaring at me – usually about chain saw massacres or kinky holidays in Xanadu or really lame “dorks day out” type of slapstick comedy. I hate it, but often don’t have the energy to get up and switch it off, the remote having slipped from the bed when I fell asleep and disappeared from view. So, being short of sleep, I have less desire to exercise and being short of exercise I have less desire to sleep – it really is a vicious cycle.

On the upside I have gotten to visit some pretty remarkable places. Just this year I have, let me see, been to Kenya, Uganda, Tanzania, Mozambique, Malawi, Mali, Czechoslovakia and The Netherlands. I passed up opportunities to visit Mexico, the USA, China, India, Cambodia and Burkina Faso. Next year I am supposed to go to Germany (Berlin) and Estonia. Not sure where else. A jetliner of the size which can fly me to Nairobi carries, I believe about 100 000 litres of fuel. The big ones that fly to the USA carry nearly double that. I don’t know whether they use most of it – presumably not – but even if they use half of what they carry, we are burning up a huge amount of fossil fuel with all this conferencing – is it really worth it? Shouldn’t we be leading the way and making a ruling about rather doing all this stuff by telecom or videocon. Of course the hotels would not be happy. But neither will they be happy when the climate changes to the degree that no one can visit them anyway.

That’s my take on conferences. OK up to a point. If one has to cut back, they can go. Been there, done that. Wanna go home.

Bamako, Mali

So here I am in Mali of all places. Had to look it up. Though it turns out that Mali is home to the world's oldest university - in Timbuktu. I am here for a meeting. Well, actually a conference, which takes place over 4 days, starting on Sunday evening. So I tacked a meeting onto the beginning of it and made it a 5 day trip.

I flew in via Johannesburg and Nairobi. That is not the shortest route. The shortest is probably Johannesburg Accra (Ghana) and across or Johannesburg Dakar (Senegal) and across. The problem with the latter two is that one is then entrusting one's life to unknown airlines, some of which are not allowed to fly to Europe, for reasons which may be fallacious but are more likely to be valid. I try and stick to SAA and Kenyan when flying in Africa. Every now and again one has to make an exception - I had to fly precision air to Kilimanjaro last month and I've flown Air Tanzania once or twice when it was still operating. But like I say, I try and stick to SAA and KQ.

The schedule is somewhat inhospitable. I have done it before. You catch a latish flight from Cape Town to Johannesburg and then wait for the Kenyan Boeing to arrive, which it usually does late. Because it is SAA and then Kenyan, you have to collect luggage in Johburg and check it in again at the KQ counter. I was interested to see that they now plastic wrap all the checked in KQ baggage. I don't think you have an option. My suitcase, whilst not that old, is extremely tatty, having come off worse against a few baggage handlers in Nairobi and elsewhere over the course of the last 2 years. So I was quite amused to see it getting the full treatment, along with the fancy cases my fellow passengers produced. The flight is supposed to leave Joh'burg at 00h40, and because of the rushed turnaround is often a little dirty, but by that stage you are so tired they could pull up in a garbage truck and it would probably suffice.

I got wedged into cattle class between a decent enough fellow, who kept to himself and looked out the window mostly, and an oldish man in a three piece suit, tie and hat who ordered red wine but never drank it and kept the light on till the wee hours reading some great tome. The arm rest was broken between the seats and sleeping was difficult, but I somehow managed a few winks. Actually I must have slept OK because I remember thinking, as I was wakened by the pilot telling us in rather loud and measured sentences that we were commencing our descent, what the ground temperature was, what the outside temperature was, what our land speed was -- all the stuff you really want to know at 5 am - that this could not be right, we'd only just left Johannesburg. If I can permit myself a little ethnic stereotyping, I have to say that Kenyan pilots, air stewards and air hostesses (actually the pursers) seem really to like the sound of their own voices. They do speak English beautifully, most of them, but a little less volume and a little less generally would be welcome.

The 2 hour layover in Nairobi was dreary. It is not a bad airport, but far from exciting. I guess volume wise it is busier than Cape Town but not as busy as Johannesburg. But while the South African airports have improved in stages, with fresh designs and upgrades, Jomo Kenyatta International has stuck with a rather dysfunctional design which can probably be blamed on the Russians (just a guess) and must be 40 years old if it is a day. The place has so much potential and space - they just need a few lateral thinkers, and some money of course.

Our plane to Bamako was somewhat smaller - a Boeing 737-700 which seats about 120 but wasn't full. I had a nice window seat just behind business and the seat next to me was empty so it was a pleasant trip. The flight takes about 6 hours. They serve you breakfast and lunch, although you arrive in Bamako around midday. You gain three time zones - Mali is the same as Greenwich in the northern winter. I sat behind a couple with an infant. Or I thought they were a couple. His hair was 75% grey and he looked in his fifties. She looked under 35. But they both interacted with the kid like parents. Interesting.

There wasn't a lot to see crossing Africa. We flew over Kenya, Uganda, DRC, Cameroon, Nigeria, Benin and I have probably left one or two out. Most of the way there was a thick blanket of cloud obscuring the ground. My impression as we descended and Mali itself came into view, was of a dry, brown country, sparsely populated, even near the major centres (Bamako is the capital). From 40 000 feet it looked like the Karoo - semi desert. But as we descended you could start to make out trees and actually there are quite a lot of trees. Not a forest, but more like savannah - single trees dotted around.

We flew over the mighty Niger River. I spotted a few makoro's (dug out canoes) or whatever they are called here. I was surprised at the lack of high density housing though. Maybe I missed it. I had expected something like Blantyre or Nairobi. Just wall to wall dwellings and cars and people. Bamako doesn't appear to be like that. Again, the Karoo analogy springs to mind. If you can imagine Colesberg or Hanover writ large, that is Bamako. Plus a very large river. Low koppies.

We made one of these leisurely approaches. At one stage I thought they had put us into a holding pattern but I don't think so - there weren't many other planes around, either on the ground or in the air. Half the passengers were staying on and going through to Dakar. The rest of us clambered out and into the waiting bus. It was hot, but a dry hot. I would guess the temperature was in the mid thirties, like Maputo, but the discomfort level was lowish.

I had to show my yellow fever vaccination certificate and then stand in front of a photographer (none of your webcam nonsense, this was a proper camera) and be photographed (so did everyone else), then show my visa and passport, and I was in. Fairly simple. Picked up my tatty suitcase, complete with plastic wrap, and headed for the exit. I was met by a charming fellow with a placard bearing my name who said he had been dispatched to take me to my hotel. He spoke absolutely no English and I speak no French so it was a challenging trip. He took me to the wrong hotel - the Radisson instead of the l'Amitie. Had to go back. He did manage to point out some landmarks - the statue of the premier president (the first after independence), the new municipal buildings (which I mistook for the presidential palace), the national archives, and sundry others.

The hotel is very imposing. It is not far from the north bank of the river, near one of the major bridges. I have a room on the 8th floor, facing the river, which is rather nice. The grounds are spacious and there is a nice pool, with warm but not too warm water. The room itself was rather hot when I arrived, but now (6.30) is bearable. So ends day 1 in Bamako. I need to go and get something to eat. As I do, the sounds of the city waft up 8 stories - traffic sounds busy, I can hear the muezzin singing and now the imam preaching over the PA system of one of the local mosques. Earlier there were what sounded like fire crackers, but I didn't see any fireworks. Maybe they were gunshots, but they didn't really sound right. An astronautical mosquito has found it's way through my open door. All that effort and then I squashed her!

Some pictures of the view to round it off.