( if you missed it,here is Part 1…)
After buses, trains, planes and a circuitous route via Puerto Vallarta, Guadalajara, Atlanta, London – Heathrow and London – Gatwick, I touched down in Johannesburg.
The last leg was a 5 hour drive to my final destination.
Or: it would have been 5 hours if we hadn’t got lost immediately on leaving the airport. The road signs warned; ‘Beware car jacking area – Do not stop at traffic lights’ which sounded… problematic. Rather than worry, I kept quiet in the back and pondered what was the best option.
Wait for the green light and risk armed robbery? Or just plough straight on into traffic? After getting back on track and suffering two punctures, me and my jet lag finally reached eSwatini.
A brief eSwatini primer for you;
For a small country there’s an impressive diversity in landscape. From lush green hills to flat arid bush.
And its home to plenty of wildlife, which is what I was there for.
Three months volunteering on conservation projects in their national parks.
There was a lot more variety than Mexico:
- I walked every trail in the 4,500 hectare Mlilwane reserve with a GPS to map them all.
- Monitoring wildlife numbers of species including rare blue swallows, aardwolves and bats.
- Ringing marabou stork and martial eagle chicks for future monitoring. Marabou stork chicks are big and ugly. They defecate on their legs which helps regulate their body temperature but creates one hell of a stink.
One particular chick reacted badly to the process, it struggled, kicked up a fuss and….. died of apparent shock. Whereas the martial eagle chicks were small, cute and totally chilled, lay in our hands keeping an interested eye on proceedings without complaint. - Clearing invasive tree species.
- Clambering around a rocky hillside looking for rare Cycad plants to monitor their growth:
- Monitoring the impact of elephants on the vegetation. I didn’t see any elephants, just a lot of elephant droppings. And a lot of destruction caused by them.
As we were on foot for this, the pre-task briefing included what to do if we came across elephants and they charged us. “Run uphill” was the basic message, they don’t like going uphill.
What to do if there wasn’t a hill nearby wasn’t specified. But we never got to put it to the test. - Making an inventory of rhinos, you can tell them apart by their ears so each rhino we found we’d sketch their ears so we could tell if we’d already counted that one.
There was plenty of downtime as well. Our main base was at Sondzela Backpackers hostel in the Mlilwane Sanctuary.
This was luxury compared to Mexico. It even had a pool which had a dual purpose as outsize water bowl for ostrich. More than once my swim was accompanied by ostrich drinking from the pool. I went for walks whenever there was free time, I never got bored of wandering miles through the reserve sharing space with zebra, antelope, warthog, impala, baboons and more with no fences between us.
There was also a lone giraffe, there had been a family group but their height makes them susceptible to lightning strikes which had claimed the others. Despite its height it wasn’t often seen. I had one close up encounter; walking through bushes I came into a small clearing and there he was. We stood completely still watching each other, a couple of metres apart.
I always carried my camera but didn’t dare reach for it in case the movement spooked him.
We stayed like that a couple of minutes before he got bored and moved off. It was a special moment.
In the main there weren’t dangerous animals at Mlilwane which is why we were free to walk around – apart from the crocodiles, hippos and snakes.
First weekend I was there, Tilman showed me round. Walking through woods by the lake Tilman led the way, he suddenly yelped; “Oh shit!” and ran back past me. I stopped dead and saw the issue; a large crocodile on the path facing me. Supposedly they won’t attack when out of water but I wasn’t tempted to put it to the test, run was my only thought.
I walked that path plenty times and never encountered another croc close up.
There was a point where the path went right to the water’s edge and when it had rained the path merged with the edge of the lake.
Whenever I got to that point I’d spend a minute intently looking for signs of crocs and very briskly cross while internally bricking it.
Fortunately I never saw the hippos out the water. Never ever get between a hippo and water. They’re bad tempered, surprisingly fast and reportedly kill several hundred people each year. It was only during the night they left the lake to feed. From my bed in the hostel I could hear their grunts carrying miles across the reserve. In 3 months all I ever saw of them was the top of their heads and nostrils peaking out above the water.
As for snakes, a few crossed my path but the most hair raising experience was when I didn’t see one. We were at the Simunye reserve monitoring bats and staying on a campsite. There was an unlit toilet block, the warning came that deadly black mambas liked to hang out in there and had bitten visitors.
I got heatstroke, one of the side effects which I hadn’t been aware of is diarrhoea. Middle of the night I woke up with the simple urge; toilet quick. I hurried across the campsite wondering what was out there watching me. Reaching the toilet block door: I was caught between the urgent need to go in, and the life enhancing need to check for:
Snakes.
Stamping my feet, I shone my torch and listened out for signs of movement. I tentatively made my way in checking every possible hiding place, including lifting the seats before nervously relieving myself. ‘Shit-scared’ seemed quite apt.
One of the other parks we helped out in; Hlane, had the big animals.
Lions, elephants, rhino, cheetah. There was no walking round there. That first time seeing a massive bull elephant walk right past our vehicle was breathtaking, and a little scary.
When not working there were extracurricular trips, we camped at a beauty spot known as The Gap, where the river disappeared through a narrow rocky channel. It rained heavily the morning we went and even in a 4×4 we found ourselves stuck in mud on the dirt track.
To the rescue, and seemingly from nowhere: barefoot children and teenagers started appearing.
They helped us, bringing rocks to place on the track and pushing the vehicle. Some of the kids looked as young as 5. One teen taking the lead gave a pep talk:
“We are people, they are people, we’re all people and they need our help so let’s help them.”
LEADER AND COORDINATOR: Simunye reserve ALL-VOLUNTEER RESCUE SQUAD
It was only slightly spoiled by one of the others who looking at us caked in mud, declared with a laugh:
“You all smell of faeces, you offend my nose, I’m leaving.”
RESIDENT COMEDIAN: Simunye reserve ALL-VOLUNTEER RESCUE SQUAD
Can’t win ’em all. He wasn’t wrong. But the others stayed until we were free.
Now mud splattered, it was decided that it might be best if some of us continued the journey outside the 4×4. Someone sat on the roof, a couple stood on the bumper holding on and I got pride of the place, up on the front of the bonnet. Further up the road, dirt track turned into pothole strewn tarmac with the road zigzagging steeply down to our destination.
As we slalomed downhill, I shouted and pointed out instructions on how to avoid the worst of the holes.
Maybe you shouldn’t say yes to every experience.
But there was something about having the whole year off and a lack of usual responsibilities that encouraged a far more blasé attitude to things like personal safety.
Then there was a beach trip – only an 11 hour drive to Tofo beach in Mozambique. The culture change between the neighbouring countries was marked. In eSwatini the people were open and friendly, I went all over on public transport and people would start chatting. I went to a football match at the National Stadium and spent most of the match answering questions about the failings of the England football team.
In Mozambique, that same openness wasn’t there, though that may be due to the country’s recent history.
With the long drive we had to make a couple of toilet stops. With a lack of service stations it was a side of the road affair. I stepped off the road onto the verge and was warned not to go more than a few feet as there could be landmines. The legacy of a brutal civil war from 1977 to 1992. Those few days I spent in the country it was a common sight to see people with missing limbs. It wasn’t until 2015 that it was declared that the last of 171,000 mines had been cleared.
A reminder that I had the privilege of adventure and travel but the reality of everyday life can be a lot darker.
The beach though had stunning white sands. The Indian Ocean was warm, a vision of paradise far off the beaten track. We went out in a boat and not far offshore had the incredible experience of snorkelling with whale sharks. If I thought the elephants were big these were on another scale. There was such a disconnect between the natural beauty and the still visible legacy of the war. It was a headspinning few days taking in the two extremes.
I celebrated Christmas during my three months. We went to Kruger National Park in South Africa in the days before Christmas Day.
We were camping, the campsite surrounded by large barbed wire topped fences to keep the animals out, it felt like a zoo in reverse. Except the baboons knew how to get in. We came back one day to find our belongings strewn about and our food ransacked. They don’t like cheese, though. They left a block with teeth marks in it.
Or maybe they just prefer brie.
Waking up 4am Christmas morning to the sound of roaring lions was another unforgettable moment. I’d never been up that early even as a child. Unforgettable also describes the smell of the giraffe that had been killed a couple of days previously by lions and was festering in the extreme heat – it wasn’t putting the lions and vultures off though as they continued to tuck in at the buffet.
We packed up and drove back to eSwatini where the hostel was providing Christmas dinner in the form of warthog spitroasted for 24 hours.
Sorry Pumbaa! Much like pork but a bit saltier.
When at the Malalotja reserve we had use of a slightly crumbling cottage. It felt very remote, the cottage overlooked a steep hillside with the view channeled down the valley to the hills beyond. We spent days here without seeing anyone else. It was much bigger than Mlilwane and to get to our location for Cycad monitoring was half a day trekking with all our gear on our backs.
We camped by a stream, used water from it to cook rice on a camping stove, washed in it, drank from it and swam in it as sweet relief from the heat. As a way of connecting with nature you couldn’t beat it. Let’s just pass on the toilet situation. At least snakes weren’t a problem.
Our group leader had a project for us to work on at the Malalotja cottage aside from the conservation. To build an outdoor shower. We connected pipes from the cottage and created a screen out of tree branches so you had privacy. It was open at the front though so you showered naked in the open air looking straight down the valley.
Just you.
Hot water.
Freedom.
And nature.
And after 3 incredible months it was back to the airport for one more stop….
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My sister-in-law and I have a little competition, one that I had a headstart, but she’s come on strong.
Ha! We had the same anti-serpent comment.
Blame it on Indiana Jones.
Hey, no joke, I have a lifelong hatred for women’s peep-toe shoes because of Raiders of the Lost Ark, damn snake slithering through that opening, blek…
Mud with Matthew McConaughey is another film not suitable for people who suffer from ophidiophobia. I googled that.
You’re just ahead of me. I’m on 30 (33 if I sneakily include airports in other countries I’ve transferred through without leaving the terminal – oh the memories of Hong Kong airport landing at 2am and flying out at 6am, lying on an uncomfortable bench trying to get even the smallest amount of sleep!). I’d never left these shores til I was 20 though so made up for it since.
I didn’t mind the snakes generally, when I could see them. Usually the encounter involved one sliding across the path a few metres ahead as they got out the way and avoided human contact. Middle of the night in the dark when you have an urgent appointment with a toilet and your mind is full of the prior warnings and a description of someone being rushed to hospital is another matter though 😁
“I didn’t mind the snakes generally, when I could see them.”
You are a brave man, JJ Live at Leeds. I would mind. I’m all for seeing the animals as pictured in their natural habitat. I’ll be fine if I never get to see a snake up close.
Excellent, another chapter of adventure!
And here I felt all excited when I recently came across a bear on a mountain trail. You encountered more wild life in those few months that I likely will ever see!
You can keep the toilet snakes, though. I’m okay without them… 🙂
A bear is pretty good in my book. My first visit to USA / Canada we travelled round for 3 weeks and camped out some nights. We were told to watch out for bears, I’ve not forgotten the rhyme; If its brown lie down, if its black fight back. Then just like the hopelessness of the elephant warning in eSwatini if there wasn’t a hill available to run up, the campsite owner who told us this then added the proviso that if its running at you, you probably won’t be able to tell which it is so best of luck. We didn’t see any. Only a skunk wandering past us one night which was cool enough for us.
Ooh! I’ve got a good bear story!, but I don’t want to hijack JJ’s thread.
You can’t leave us hanging. We need to hear the bear story!
Let the record show, JJ gave his permission…. 🙂
So my dad’s family grew up in literally the smallest school district in PA. Miles upon miles of nothing but state forest, national forest, state game lands, teeny town, forest, forest, forest. The kind of place where snowmobiles become the primary mode of transportation come winter. (Grandpa worked for a particular company that relocated part of their workforce for secret defense projects after WWII to this remote corner of the world, because the head of operations apparently loved the fly fishing in the area, or so I’ve heard) Dad was 1 of 6 kids, so it was a pretty full house for holidays when I was growing up.
Grandpa passed away when I was about 9, so his funeral got everyone in the entire family there, staying at grandma’s. Knowing it’d be a full house, an aunt and uncle brought their pop up trailer to park in the yard. The night before the funeral, it was myself, 2 older cousins, and an uncle joining my aunt and uncle (and their dog) in the camper. Probably about 12 others inside the house. Camper was no more than maybe 15 feet from the back door, and they left the porch light on in case we needed to do bathroom runs (mamba-free).
So around 2am, the dog wakes me up shaking his dog tags on his collar constantly. I’m thinking, what the heck, stop with your clanking tags already, dog….. and then I hear noises outside. So I sit up and look out, and see this vague shadow by the porch with something shiny. Couldn’t quite make out what it was, so I just sit there on the bed with the dog watching. A few minutes later my cousin wakes up and asks me what I’m doing. I shrug and tell him there’s something in the yard. He looks out, says “it’s probably a bear” and rolls over to go back to sleep.
Well, this apparently wakes his brother up and sends him into an absolute panic, and he starts scream-whispering “what, there’s a bear out there? Oh my God we’re going to DIIIIIEEEEE…..” There may have been some poking and slapping then between the brothers, can’t recall though (they were HS age). So then my uncle wakes up, and as he’s the one on the zippered window end, unzips the window to look out. Followed by more scream whispers of “are you insane?! Now he’s going to come over and shred us to pieces….”
By this point the shadow has caught wind of the covered trash can next to the porch, and loudly removes the lid while giving us a clear view finally. Yep, average size black bear. Everyone in the camper is awake at this point, but something must’ve smelled quite tasty for him to not notice us and the various hoarse whispers inside the paper-thin pop up camper. I’m sitting there totally fascinated watching the bear, and growing less afraid by the second, as my cousin is about to have a damn heart attack.
He’s just doing what bears do, rummaging through this newfound treasure trove, when suddenly the back porch door slams open like a cannon, and out comes my aunt with a metal ladle and huge pot, banging and screaming like a banshee. That bear just froze for a second, a total “what the…?” sense about him, then takes off up the hill like his booty was on fire.
We are silent in the camper watching this unfold, then the snickering starts, followed by full blown lol hysterics at what just happened. My aunt yells back at us – “what are you laughing for, I just saved your lives!” – which apparently was even funnier to us and really got us hooting. The whole town knew by the next morning, and it was the hot topic at grandpa’s funeral.
My aunt said she heard the commotion in the yard from the house, saw the bear, apparently told my grandma she had to go save her baby boys in the camper and marched down to the kitchen, with Grandma half asleep going, “whatever, leave the bear alone, he’ll be on his way soon”.
The bear soon grew to be the size of 3 grizzly bears in subsequent retellings by certain relatives. Has definitely become a part of family lore.
Super engaging story, JJ! I am quite jealous of this experience… the scenery, the people, the animals, the solitude… seems like the perfect experience in its own messy way.
Thanks Pauly. It was amazing. There was so much more I could have written about but had to rein it in and not get too carried away. The only time I’ve ever kept a diary / journal is that year so I’ve got extensive notes of everything from that as well as emails I sent to friends and family while away.
Mexico was great fun but there was something different about the eSwatini experience being a small country that isn’t well known so I went without much in the way of preconceptions.
Its amazing how crossing a border changes things so much. South Africa was beautiful but like those road signs in Johannesburg it was somewhere to be wary of where you were going and who was around you. Whereas eSwatini was (with the occasional exception) really friendly and generous in spirit. There was still an element of danger but mostly from the prospect of accidents as the roads and unlicensed minibuses that serve as public transport weren’t particularly safe. Not that it stopped me using them.
Sounds like a wonderful time to me. My very first job was on a wildlife refuge, and I had so much fun watching mourning doves fledge, counting species of waterfowl on the ponds, etc. This sounds like all of that on steroids. What an experience.
I’m so envious JJ, I can’t believe it never occurred to me to do foreign volunteer work like that before I got into full time job, I’m totally loving your travelogue.
I used to kid my friends in the UK when they’d complain about “only” 6 weeks a year for holidays, but what kind of line of work were you in, JJ, to get the opportunity for a year long sabbatical?!!
6 weeks is indeed a pittance, I don’t know how I’d cope!!
I worked for a bank. Not necessarily the sort of institution you’d expect to be offering such a generous opportunity. I know a few others who took up the chance and went off to do different things. As long as you had a decent track record, a decent reason for doing it (not just sitting in your pants on the sofa watching TV for a year) and you had to have been there for a certain length of time before you could apply. It was then at your managers discretion to agree. You weren’t guaranteed the same job when you came back in case things changed while you were away, just a job at the same level but everyone I know that did it got their same job back.
Japanese Breakfast cancelled. I need to get off this island.
How many Bruce Springsteen shows will a 2014 Honda Civic pay for? It’s now or never. That No Nukes concert really fired me up. For sure, I’m going to Washington state. And this time, it’s not going to be for an Amway Convention. I still have my “dream circles” pitch down pat. At some point, I’m going to write a personal essay in the first person. I got the perfect title: The Year I Read Ayn Rand. That’s not accurate, I didn’t know who Ayn Rand was in the nineties. But I actually did read Atlas Shrugged and watched The Fountainhead with Gary Cooper in 2018 when a coworker asked to borrow money for his mortgage, then used the money to go to Comic-Con in Vegas. And. Never. Paid. Me. Back. For about fourteen crazed days, my attitude was: I’m going to walk and talk like Paul Ryan.
I don’t begrudge libertarians, but Rand is not my cup of tea. But I will say this for her readers, with admiration; they wouldn’t be so naive as to loan $2K to a coworker. This is kind of a preview to just one plot point in personal essay about how I got fired from my job in 2018. I’ll try to make it funny.
I want to visit Namibia, Iceland, and New Zealand. Also, Hungary, or Poland.