I could barely contain my excitement over arriving in Capetown and setting foot on the southernmost latitude I have ever been to. However, the excitement quickly gave way to horror when I almost had my toes and knees taken off by a speeding car driving on the wrong side of the road, just as I attempted to cross it. And then it happened again...and again. What's wrong with these people? But that's exactly what they asked me, because everyone here drives on the left side (i.e. wrong side) in the good old British fashion. I just can't get this vital fact into my head and it has nearly cost me a few body parts. Oh, just wait you people until I get behind the wheel myself! Eventually I did find the hostel where my brother Abdul and I had agreed to meet at. There he was sprawled on a bench munching on litchi, a delicious local fruit. I assumed that he would be tanned or sunburned, but I was shocked to see just how mangled he got by the local insects. I guess we really are in Africa now. And we haven't even left the very cosmopolitan Capetown yet.

Additionally, I had a little reunion with South Africa native James, a long distance cycling buddy of mine. He introduced us to the South African passion: braai. That's Afrikaans for barbeque and the meats include boerwors, (chunky bloody sausage about 2 feet in length curled up), ostrich meat, buffalo, and good old beef. I guess if you get to a fancy place you might find bushmeat such as zebra, wildebeast, and baboon but we were more than satisfied with our boerwors. It was incredibly good after the hot coals turned the bloody meat into a very appetizing roasted brown rolled up tube. Unfortunately we didn't leave as much time for the Cape region as it deserves because we will return to a closer inspection at the end of our loop at some point in the future.

However, the Western Cape province that we drove through on our way north to Namibia was surprisingly Californian. The grass dried out to a gold glow in the sun and the rolling hills reminded me of the central valley of California. Not to mention the brilliant blue sky and the eucalyptus trees clustered along the road. Soon enough we passed through the south African wine country and its accompanying cypress trees. I could swear I was back home speeding through the center of my state. Only the baboons hanging out by the roadside tore into my hallucinations and reminded me that this is new land here. As we made our way north into the drier Richtersveld plateau, the mountains rose in height and the terrain became rockier and devoid of trees. Far back to the south we could see distant thunderheads tower high into the sky as the day dragged into afternoon and the sun's intense heat caused these clouds to build and darken ominously. Incidentally, in all of southern Africa summer is also the rainy season and the downpours occur virtually daily, always intense, sometimes ruthlessly intense. I have yet to see a gentle rain not accompanied by fierce wind and lightning.

Eventually the bumpy two-lane highway found itself coursing along the Olifants River and the occasional town we passed had a genuine outback character with red dust blowing and cattle ranching the number one livelihood here. As we neared the Namibia border, the land became even drier and the cattle ranches more spread out. This was not the impression I had of southern Africa, but now I know better. We hadn' t come across many natives in this region, the ones we did meet were mainly ranch hands. In the past as now this was the ancestral land of the Bushmen, who are actually called by their ethnic name San. Unless they gave up their traditional hunting and gathering lifestyle in favor of cattle ranching, I didn’t see any of them running around stalking small prey or squeezing water out of bulbous roots of the local plants. We would have to get way off the beaten track, but our bus seemed more set on making it to Windhoek, the capital of Namibia by the next day than to chase these amazing natives around the bush. Late at night we crossed Fish River, which, like the Colorado River, has carved its way through an uplifted plateau to create Fish River Canyon, second in length and width only to Arizona's Grand Canyon.

The border crossing was surprisingly straightforward and devoid of bureaucratic formalities that I had expected of Africa. Back then I had no idea what corrupt and arcane border procedures I would be facing later on this trip. Before getting back on the bus I briefly glanced up to the starry southern sky and there it was: the Southern Cross. Bright and blatantly obvious, it was the only constellation I knew of in this part of the Milky Way. This was the first time I laid eyes on it and it definitely drove the point home that I am in the southern hemisphere! All other formations of stars were completely unknown to me and a refreshing sight in the black night sky. No thunderclouds had formed here yet, so I could count myself lucky to see a full night sky.

We continued driving through the night across the huge Richterveld plateau in direction of the Namib desert and Windhoek, the capital of the country. At this point I will call an end to this installation and continue with the Namibian experience next time, due to computer restrictions. As internet access is sparse, exceedingly slow, and heinously expensive, I might relegate the rest of my ramblings to my notebook and continue when I set foot on South Africa again or maybe even when I return north again. So don't get too worried if I don't chime in every now and then. I got all my immunizations squared away and am heading further into the wild heart of black Africa.

To be continued....Solomon