tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36052589986474660532024-03-13T04:28:40.874+02:00Walkabout South AfricaKyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-57527964055473989052014-11-19T14:57:00.002+02:002014-11-19T14:57:14.792+02:00I'm writing about my walk on <a href="http://www.kylemeenehan.com">KyleMeenehan.com</a> now, I hope you enjoy reading about it! I'll be filling in a lot of gaps that I left out in this blog. I'm also writing about the lessons that I learned and how they affect me know.Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-67379508218085238352010-02-18T20:57:00.002+02:002010-02-18T21:00:09.148+02:00Back Where I StartedJust over 9 months and around 5500km, and I'm done!!!<br /><br />Will fill in details soon.Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-42585570897024550202010-02-07T19:28:00.006+02:002010-02-12T18:12:25.803+02:00Just Swell in Swellendam!Swellendam... And just over a week to go!<br /><br />From PE I headed towards Jeffrey's Bay over some incredibly beautiful beaches. From J-Bay I headed down to St.Francis Bay where I reunited with an old friend of mine, Zade, who I haven't seen for years and it was awesome to see him and his brother, Dain, again!! On to Oyster Bay where Tony Kriel (who I stayed with in East London) told me about a cottage just past Oyster Bay that was owned by a friend of his. If there was someone there I could sleep inside, otherwise I could just lay down on a pretty well sheltered verandah. I arrived at the cottage and, finding nobody inside, lay my mat down on the verandah. While scrummaging through my bag to find something or other, I came across the key for the dorm at the backpackers in J-Bay that I had forgotten to return... I wondered... And it worked!!! After a comfortable night in a bed I continued.<br /><br />The terrain gradually got rougher and rougher, having to cross next to a sea cliff over rocks and an incoming tide at one point. Walking past some amazing natural archways, I found some local fisherman who directed me on the best way to negotiate the terrain to come... They were wrong. After having to head inland for a bit, a farmer then told me that their were sandy beachesfrom there on... There weren't. The terrain was pretty rough, but the near vertical cliffs were easy enough to traverse with my trekking poles in one hand and my last will and testament in the other. Then I had to put the trekking poles away. Eventually I headed inland again, to be told that if I headed along a particular dirt road, it would take me inland then back to the coast at Eersterivier where I would find a campsite, a shop, and sandy beaches from there on. I'm sure you're sensing a growing trend in the accuracy of local information in the Tsitsikamma area and you would be right to assume that at Eersterivier there was neither a shop, nor a campsite, nor even navigable terrain to the west! Luckily there were Bernard and Lisbie, who gave me a bed for the night after joining them for dinner with three other families who were all out enjoying the spectacular coast and, I hope, enjoying the novety of this "engelsman" who hadn't heard of cars!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEievB_e4fA4jAAKOvKW6-vOE3sLViHvFT_3qyKnbejpp9Iib8BVo5pzNvCndAqq9Zci5xkEyXLh2X-qWzk83c5ywGxZSJUdQmyeAn3RtdKHf7yynhxq5Wo_-tVOfj4MSysrU5OHPa7wmwYS/s1600-h/Feb10_-_11_-_Supertramp_Kyle_(600_x_450).jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEievB_e4fA4jAAKOvKW6-vOE3sLViHvFT_3qyKnbejpp9Iib8BVo5pzNvCndAqq9Zci5xkEyXLh2X-qWzk83c5ywGxZSJUdQmyeAn3RtdKHf7yynhxq5Wo_-tVOfj4MSysrU5OHPa7wmwYS/s320/Feb10_-_11_-_Supertramp_Kyle_(600_x_450).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437390375438744338" /></a><br /><br />After that I headed inland to the N2 and gained momentum through Plett, Knysna and onto Sedgefield where I met up with Dave Jones, the president of the Mountain Club of South Africa, and his wife, Fay, a lovely couple well deserving of the respect they have from their fellow mountain folk! I enjoyed the momentum that I gained after hitting the roads, so after catching up with the Jones's, enjoying their warm hospitality, and gate crashing their club section's AGM to socialise with other mountaineers, I continued via road to Mossel Bay.<br /><br />Darrell Raubenheimer put me in touch with Nadia and Estienne Arndt, the organisers of the Augrabies Extreme and Addo Trail Run. They are immediately likeable with their gregarious nature and passionate outlook on life, not to mention that Estienne has a foot and a half... No, that's not a rude comment you dirty minded readers! Estienne lost half of his right foot in a motorcycle accident quite some time ago. Instead of letting it get him down he subsequently became the first amputee to complete Comrades! Nadia and Estienne walked with me on the beach from Little Brak to Mossel Bay, after which we headed to the marina to check out Abacus; Estienne's yacht that he bought from a guy who sailed solo from SA to Australia... And he's blind! On our way to Abacus I spotted her... Her name is Ingrid, she was quite dressed down compared to the others around her and her modesty and natural beauty had me immediately drawn to her. She's quite petit compared to the others, 33ft to be precise. And she's made of wood. That is to say, she's yacht. She's a fixer-upper but apparrently all she needs is a bit of elbow grease and TLC and apparrently the owner is looking to sell... Sail to South America for that climbing trip instead of a boring old flight? Hopefully...<br /><br />After Mossel Bay I put in the longest day of the trip so far: 52km to Albertinia. The next day was a bit shorter as it hit 45 degrees in the shade, and I wasn't walking in the shade! Other than that it's been pretty smooth until Swellendam, hoperfully a trend that continues for the next few day until the completion of my journey!!Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-28829999889279039392010-01-23T17:40:00.006+02:002010-01-23T23:06:34.674+02:00Aaaaaaaaalrighty Then...If you've watched Ace Ventura, you'll understand that I am preparing for something tough... If you haven't watched Ace Ventura well, you've just read anyway that I'm preparing for something tough, so no need to watch Ace Ventura now. Though I'm not stopping you...<br /><br />Why all this dribble? Because the tough thing that I'm about to do is engage with technology on a necessity... Technologies, such as cellphones, seem to function fine when I don't really need them, but when it comes to the crunch, they seem to fail. For example, a few days ago I had a great conversation with a friend about random stuff that doesn't really matter but was quite fun. Cellphone does not leap into the ocean. The next day I was heading out into Dunefields, an area with no water, civilisation or anything much more than the sand, sea and small animals that have been there for millennia. In a time where my phone began to function as a safety tool and a coordinator of my return to civilisation and arrival in Port Elizabeth, my phone lept from my pocket and was promptly swept out to sea by a rogue wave. This, amongst other technological failures, has led me to believe that my clockwise route along the political border of South Africa has caused me to develop some sort of magnetic field as a result of my interactions with the specific ores and deposits situated around the country. This magnetic field disrupts electronic signals and generally prompts technological failures such as phones leaping from my pocket to a watery end. This is the only logical explanation that I have manged to find( the fact that I had my phone in a pocket prone to releasing its contents and was presently running from that very same rogue wave in order to keep my shoes dry, did lead me momentarily to the thought that the mishap could have been a mechanical inevitability. Similar explanations could be applied to previous technological faliures. But the likelihood seemed slim.). Despite this realisation, I have decided to take my chances and blog. My sincerest apologies if the internet's prolonged exposure to this field causes a catastrophic crash.<br /><br />From Piet Retief I headed via Willie and Nicolette Scheepers on my way to Patrick in Pongola, a friend of my mother's who really looked after me! He is, unfortunately, one of many South Africans who have lost multiple family members to violent crime, so, compassionately, he picked me up in evenings and dropped me off in mornings through a potentially dodgy area so that I'd have a safe place to sleep. Some good rest saw me walking well despite the deteriorating weather on my way to Kosi Bay where I would greet the Indian Ocean! On the way a friend of Jaco Swart's found me on the side of the road, gave me a bed, organised me a bed night and a game drive at Thembe Elephant Park (Amazing!) and a place to sleep in Kosi Bay! In Kosi Bay I stayed with Maryke and Youriaan (spelling is probably wrong, sorry!); adventure racers, kayakers, and humanitarians! Armed with local knowledge I negotiated my way through indigenous forests to check in at one of the Parks Board offices as per the conditions I had to adhere to in order to walk through the isiMangaliso Wetlands. The head ranger there offered a roof over my head at the river mouth and the next morning I stepped from the rangers camp into an amazing day and excitedly ruched to the river mouth. If anybody tries to tell you how beautiful Kosi Bay is, don't believe them. It's not that they're lying, it's just that they're not capable of explaining just how beautiful it is! And nor am I. I was also fascinated by the fish traps that the locals use in the lakes. Such unusual structures for Highveld eyes to see and incredibly effective and apparently with minimal ecological impact.<br /><br /><br />Walking on the beach between Kosi Bay and St.Lucia was unbelievable! It was so refreshing to be away from the road with only natural sights and sounds around me. I felt so safe that I stopped carrying my pepper spray. Luckily I met Leo Frankel, a friendly camp manager who warned me to start carrying it again after st. Lucia... he probably saved my life. Between st.Lucia and Richard's Bay I met two guys collecting bait. My Zulu isn't very good and neither was their English, but we communicated enough to have a laugh a talk about the weather. Smiling and laughing, I continued south and took a break about 3km down the beach. From behind me in the forest, came my two new friends brandishing a knife and a machete. The one with the machete raised it into the air and shouted something... I ran. I had taken my backpack off as well as my shoes, so I ran away from them onto the beach expecting them to have their way with my possessions and leave me alone, but as I turned around I was met with the sight of a machete over the head of some strange animal that I had seen in movies about the Rwandan genocide and various media on machete-wielding Africa. It looks like a human, and often makes claim to human rights, but its behavior is anything but. Thanks to Leo, and similar warnings from my uncle in Richard's Bay, I had my pepper spray in my pocket. As I fumbled for it, I lost my glasses (which I later recovered) in a fight with the kikoi I had wrapped around my head and as I ran along the beach, my blurred vision obstructed further by a flapping kikoi and my hands hindered from their normal role in a sprint by their pursuit of defense, a thought entered my head: <br /><br />"After battering my body by walking thousands of kilometers, being caught half-way through a hard day's walk, fumbling in my pocket and not being able to see very well, I can still outrun this guy... Awesome! I really must consider competitive running when I'm done... Oh ja... Kyle you idiot!!!! Someone's trying to kill you and you're admiring your running abilities!!!!! Save yourself man!!!"<br /><br />With that though I managed to get the pepper spray out and get a squirt in its direction. With the wind and distance between us, it wasn't enough to put the animal down, but enough for it to get a wiff of it and for its primitive brain to realise that it could hurt. It stopped trying to kill me. Thanks Leo and thanks Vincent for caring enough to warn me, thanks Mom and Dad for good genes and an active lifestyle growing up, thanks Mountain Club for letting me play in the mountains to get fit, thanks Universe for allowing me this human experience and thanks Uzi for a great product!<br /><br />The rest of the encounter could read as any encounter with criminals in South Africa, with me standing at a distance from my bag (I needed supplies if I was going to make it over 50 km to Richard's Bay) where they rummaged through my stuff. "the usual" I say, and everyone seems to understand, which is sad. If you're not from South Africa, this may seem like a very intense experience, but this was in fact very mild compared to what happens every day. It is sad and wrong, but now it's called "normal". Normal, if you don't know, is:<br /><br />"Where's money? Pin number? We'll kill you if it's wrong!" etc.<br /><br />They took my cash (R120 or thereabouts), card, phone, iPod, and headlamp. Things, no matter. It's just annoying when someone tries to kill you.<br /><br />I walked about 25km after they left with their loot and eventually found some fisherman who told me I was lucky to be alive. I hitched a ride with them to Richards Bay to find my uncle and sort things out. When we reached the main road and got signal, one of the fisherman handed me is phone to contact my family. I phoned my brother, Bryian:<br /><br />"Hey dude, It's Kyle, howzit going?"<br />"Hey dude!!!!"<br />Bryian communicates mostly in grunts or a quiet monotone so this was an enthusiastic reply!<br />"I'm good," he continued,"how are you?"<br />"Ja, alright. Long day..." I was expecting to give Bryian some news when he said:<br />"Am I the first person you've called today??"<br />"Ja, why?"<br />"Dude! There are four-by-fours and helicopters looking for you!!!!"<br /><br />Upon realising that I had given the muggers an incorrect pin number, they used my phone and started phoning my friends to see if by any chance I had mentioned my pin number to one of them in casual conversation over a game of pool or at the base of a climb or wherever they might have thought people discuss their pin numbers. They got through to Laura Lees (who I stayed with in Jacobsbaai) and she ended up contacting my Dad, who contacted my Uncle and between the three of them they coordinated a rescue mission( Unfortunately they were looking further north where the mugging had actually taken place, thinking that I was probably incapable of continuing south)! When I discovered this I was really annoyed; do what you want to me but don't bring my friends and family into it! While I was strolling down the beach, all my friends and family had been led to believe that I was being held hostage by those two creatures! I think my friends and family really got the worst of it!<br /><br />But anyway, a week's rest with family in Richard's Bay was just the ticket! A strange way to meet the Meiring side of the family after about ten years but a happy reunion nonetheless!<br /><br />From Richard's Bay, my uncle Vincent dropped me off where I found the fishermen, and I headed inland onto roads to avoid some more dodgy areas on his recommendation. He helped me out with alot of accommodation until I was outside of Zululand. Friends, old and new, saw me sleeping in comfortable beds through Umhlanga (where I stayed with old family friends, the Mortons), Durban ( with an old friend of my mom's and a new friend of mine, Jovita, who does some amazing charity work!), on to Scottburgh where I stayed with Roger and Liz Clark, father and stepmother of a longtime good friend of mine Tyron. Roger does alot of riding in the Transkei and printed me some fantastic maps that proved very handy and organised me alot of accommodation with friends! A stop over in Shelly Beach to visit my great aunt Elayne, and I was on my way to the Trankei!! I had been looking forward to it for the whole trip, and totally underestimated it.<br /><br />It was much tougher than I expected. The terrain was alot tougher, but predominantly it was tough meeting people with machetes when there was nobody else around for horizons. They were only using the machetes for what they were actually made for; a tool for harvesting food and making shelter. They were very peaceful people that I encountered, but the image rattled me and made me realise that the incident south of St. Lucia had affected me more than I expected. That stress, combined with terrible weather lead to a steep decline in the condition of my feet and eventually I cut my foot in Coffee Bay. As you might have read previously, I hitched to Kei Mouth for a holiday!! I stayed initially with family friends, the Stuarts and Simpsons, then again with the Clarks with the addition of Tyron and his girlfriend Cheri! It was amazing being with friends for three weeks and it helped me sort my head out! On the second of January, Tyron and Cheri dropped me off at Coffee Bay and, after a quick hello and a dinner party with the Trouws, I carried on south!<br /><br />With a fresh headspace I was able to fully appreciate the Transkei! I'd tell you about it, but its one of the few places left in the country that you can feel like you're really exploring and I wouldn't want to spoil it for you! (and it's late right now and I'm tired of typing, sorry!!!! I promise if you ask me in person I'll tell you all you want to know about the Transkei... finding me is your problem!)<br /><br />Out of the Transkei and into the beginnings of Raubenheimer hospitality with their friends the Kriels in East London, then some very kind guest house owners in Kidds Beach, Barend in Hamburg, a police officer with some very interesting stories to tell! A kind campsite owner on the Fish River, the Fogartys in Kenton and then the push to PE via another friendly campsite owner in Ocean View! The whole Eastern Cape has been unbelievable, every beach, hill and river from the Port Edward to Port Elizabeth has been postcard stuff! But between Woody Cape and Sundays river was really spectacular... It's some of the remotest terrain that I've walked so far and some of the most beautiful. It one of those kinds of beauty that makes you feel very small and insignificant in a powerfully satisfying way. Something that us humans need every now and then.<br /><br />Well, that brings me up to date. This blog is but a fraction of a fraction of what I have experienced. for reading sake, many names are omitted and its tales of kindness are diluted (I have been offered food by people who scarcely had enough to feed themselves). I hope, though, that in this brief account intended to serve as a sort of progress report, there is something interesting.<br /><br />If you are reading this, my technophobic, bio-eloctromagnetic field has not disrupted stability of the Internet and the necessity for a counter-clockwise walk around the country to nullify the effects of my techno karma have been rendered unnecessary.Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-57499287908620530702010-01-22T20:13:00.002+02:002010-01-22T21:25:14.005+02:00Port Elizabeth<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihJoRCN-h7dys83XsmlnlQlPh1SqA0z-WnhAJumRicNCxa5ja6NrX5Zl1OJJSz1cO6LvfjrhaP0Wo8HBmXIDoV-Tk6y1K47VgETIkQZXdOTOtaVTcGLbbVsSwD1EuP-7ijeNdjxd0U1DWf/s1600-h/DSC00544.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihJoRCN-h7dys83XsmlnlQlPh1SqA0z-WnhAJumRicNCxa5ja6NrX5Zl1OJJSz1cO6LvfjrhaP0Wo8HBmXIDoV-Tk6y1K47VgETIkQZXdOTOtaVTcGLbbVsSwD1EuP-7ijeNdjxd0U1DWf/s320/DSC00544.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429647303070764338" /></a><br />Yesterday I had my twenty-third birthday in Port Elizabeth and, in true Raubenheimer fashion, I even had a vegan chocolate cake with icing and candles! Darrell and Evie are the parents of my good friend Andrew, someone who I've always been able to count on in Johannesburg. Now, spending some time with his parents, it's obvious to see that generosity and hospitality are a hereditary asset in the Raubenheimer family! One needs only to mention their name to a runner who has taken part in the Rhodes Trail Run, or the Baviaanskloof Trail Run (which they organise) to hear countless tales of their passion and compassion for people.<br /><br />So, well fed and rested, I find myself in the last few weeks of my trip. I'm looking forward to finishing, but I'm not sure what it will be like going back to a "normal" life. That being said, I think my trip has been quite pedestrian (tom-tom-snare) compared to many journeys that one reads about. But for me the real life changing part of the trip has been the people that I've met and the thought processes that this trip, particularly the oscillations between comfort and varying hardships, has allowed me. Someone recently pointed out to me, that the qualities that we admire in people are seldom possessed by the people that we aspire to be. This eloquent summary had been on my mind for some time but it's articulation seemed to bring the issue to the fore. Suffice to say I've had a radical change in values.<br /><br />Well, I've a touch of writer's block (I remember some funny quote about using writer's block as an excuse that made everyone who said they had writer's block look like an idiot... but I can't remember it so now it seems a valid excuse), but I'm around this computer after walking again tomorrow, so I'm making a written statement that I'm going to completely update the blog tomorrow! <br /><br />If I haven't, please harass me.Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-39592859125313003652010-01-03T09:08:00.002+02:002010-01-03T09:10:56.944+02:00On the Trail AgainBack in Coffee Bay after a fantastic rest in Kei Mouth! Foot is doing well, as is my headspace! <br /><br />Same story with internet problems so a long update to follow soon(ish)...<br />South I go today!!!Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-82567086335035757392009-12-11T16:15:00.002+02:002009-12-11T16:19:17.341+02:00Holiday!Well, my foot is no good for hard walking after the cut. So tomorrow I catch a taxi to Kei Mouth for a holiday with friends! After some rest and recouperation I'll catch a taxi back here to Coffee Bay and carry on South...<br /><br />Holiday!!!Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-24970413972201817282009-12-09T12:39:00.002+02:002009-12-09T13:04:07.008+02:00Coffee Bay: a Sunny Disposition to go with Sunny Weather!There is alot of blue stuff and this bright thing in the sky... At first I was quite freaked out but then I remembered something about it being described as "good weather" in the days before the rain (It's been very wet lately!). It even had me waking up with a smile this morning!<br /><br />I worked through what I think I need to work through in my head and have been feeling alot better lately! The Transkei really is a beautiful place! Also, since Piet Retief, I have met some fantastic people! I am now in a much better frame of mind to write about them now after my previous rant, and I look forward to writing a proper update. Unfortunately, I lost my phone capable of accessing the Internet to water damage so I am on a rented line at a backpackers now just to say that I am in good spirits! I am staying with my great great aunt's (my grandmother's aunt) friend here. I might have to stay here a bit longer as I cut my foot quite badly on a river crossing while doing some shopping this morning, I think it should heal pretty quickly though. <br /><br />My next major stop will be Kei Mouth, where I am going to take a break till the new year to let my feet recover and just relax and let this new, more positive headspace kick in. A long-time good friend of mine, Tyron, is heading down there with his girlfriend, step-mom and his dad , Roger (Roger drew me up a fantastic map of the Trankskei which I would have been totally lost without! I really underestimated the terrain!), and I'll be staying with them for a while which I'm really looking forward to! I always tell people it's just walking when they tell me what I'm doing is impressive, but I think it's a little harder than I let myself think it is. Realising that I am now able to deal a bit better with obstacles. It's quite tough to gauge one's performance when alone, I think if someone else was having a bad day with me it would be alot easier to deal with, but it is perhaps a good thing as I am learning alot about myself, the human body, mind, and population in general. I enjoy the physicallity of this trip but lately the experience has taken priority so I am slowing down a bit and enjoying speaking with locals and enjoying the scenery. The only thing I was worried about with taking my time was getting back in time to train properly for the Rhodes Trail Run, but I spoke to Darrel, one of the organisers (and whose son, Andrew, is a good friend of mine and lent me his permanent number to run next year) the other day and he put my worries at ease. Both Darrel and Andrew are very talented athletes and I respect their opinion alot.<br /><br />So, I hope to update properly soon but if I don't, know that I am in good spirits, in good company and hopefully under good weather!Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-66330990476352675072009-12-04T13:34:00.002+02:002009-12-04T14:10:03.429+02:00Port st. JohnsRight now I am escaping bad weather in a backpackers' lodge in Port st. Johns, I have covered about 4200km at this point.<br /><br />This is just a quick entry, I am on the Internet line at the lodge which is very reasonably priced, but I'm trying to keep spending down.<br /><br />Just south of St. Lucia, two guys came at me with a knife and a machete. There is little doubt in my mind that if I didn't have my pepper spray with me... Well. In the end they made off with my money, phone, iPod, and headlamp. Naturally I lost all my numbers, so please forgive my lack of phone contact.<br /><br />The incident didn't trouble me at first but slowly I began to see the same attitude that led those two towards their incompassionate actions in most people that I meet. I have trouble discerning between people to try to kill or harm with machetes and people who try to kill or harm in courtrooms in suits and university degrees. People who cause unspeakable cruelty to animals through their purchases of certain products. I find it very hard to feel compassion for many people nowadays because their are very, very few compassionate people on this planet. At least, one might say as a climber, we have the hills to retreat to, but I just read about a terrible incident on Wellington's Dome (a spectacular and popular climbing area in Limpopo Province) that has, along with accounts of incidences in the Magaliesberg, the Drakensberg, and my incident in the St. Lucia Wetlands, all but destroyed the comfort I find in the South African wilderness. I find it intolerable that people complain about corruption after fueling it by bribing cops. I find it intolerable when people complain about animal cruelty while eating a KFC chicken burger. In truth, I find most people intolerable at the moment, yet when there are no people around, I cannot help but feel as vulnerable as I was in the St. Lucia Wetlands where I had to walk about 25 km before I found someone who could help me.<br /><br />I used to get very bad eczema on my fingers and feet that prohibited me from climbing, playing guitar, walking barefoot, and when it got really bad even walking with shoes was painful. It was narrowed down to a wheat allergy and as soon as I stopped eating wheat I was able to climb properly! Lately though, without any consumption of wheat, the eczema on my feet has flared up to a degree that any worse will seriously hinder my walking. Though I was reluctant to make the conclusion, I think it has been brought on by stress. People tell me that I should stop judging my actions and the actions of others so harshly, but is precisely that attitude of, "just take it easy man!" that has led society to many of its shortcomings. And so, I lose health in concern.<br /><br />That being said, I am still enjoying the walk. I will right a proper update sometime soon but right now I think I'm too angry to right properly and find it very hard to express myself, particularly hard to not offend people close to me as they are often guilty of the detached incompassion I find so unacceptable lately. I smile when I talk to people but I find myself annoyed at myself afterwards for not screaming at them that their bourgeois reactionary lifestyles are the root of many of the world's solvable problems. Mostly, though, I am having a good time, it the bad that plagues my mind though. I find myself tossing and turning trying to figure out how to instigate some sort of change.<br /><br />But, setting that aside for now...<br /><br />There is less than a month to go for the Supertramp Application deadline this year, and their are no applicants!!! If you are an MCSA Member and between the ages of 18 and 25, check out the MCSA sight for details.Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-62997719413494517492009-10-06T14:03:00.001+02:002009-10-06T14:03:43.378+02:00... A further continuation...And so, with a renewed tenacity and a better plan for erecting my poncho tent, I continue towards the Indian Ocean! In about a week and a half I will greet the surf and, though I won't be able to load a photo (4 months, 28 days and 3250 km in a backpack as left my phone quite disagreeable), rest assured that it will be in good style... Naturally.<br /><br />Thanks again to the Mountain Club of South Africa for this life-changing experience!Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-64446746882265752432009-10-06T12:28:00.002+02:002009-10-06T13:54:52.801+02:00Continued...Staying in the police station that I previously blogged about, quite an eye-opener.<br /><br />Phalaborwa: A great town, very clean, friendly people, and met a wonderful Dutch couple in the backpackers who were very interesting to chat to! I love talking about our country with foreigners and learning about their countries. One of my few memories of Amsterdam is walking into a shop when we were exploring on a stop over day on our way to England when I was about 7 years old. As we walked in my brother and I were quickly yanked out my my mom who realised the walls of the shops were lined with photos of genital piercings! Don't go to Amsterdam if you're reserved... And if you're 7 years old, avoid shopping...<br /><br />Matumi Game Lodge: Very cool! Especially with the resident warthog, squirrel and nyala!<br /><br />Bushbuckridge: Lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of people... It has a Spar which I thought was quite impressive for a giant informal settlement. Spar usually stock vegetarian burgers and sausages which I quite enjoy as a treat every now and then, but in the place where I would usually find them, there were whole ox heads on sale instead... Clearly not a large vegetarian population in Bushbuckridge!<br /><br />Elephant Whispers in Hazyview: Wow!!!! Such an amazing experience! Got to ride the biggest bull there! Such a wonderful approach to conservation and education! Really worth a visit, they also run a volunteer program. They are already doing so much for elephants and the environment in general, but I learned that they could be doing so much more were it not for the lack of political support, not a very good state of affairs at all. To compound the situation, international pressure is often misguided and does up doing more harm than good. Hopefully they'll listen to what the guys at Elephant Whispers have to say!<br /><br />Nelspruit: Movies!!!!!!!!!!!! I watched District 9 and Up. Was more impressed by the original short film that inspired D9, Alive in Joburg. You'll probably find it on Youtube, it's worth a look! That being said I still thought is was very good! Up was great! Met lots of fun people in the backpackers, every night is a party there with people from all around the world!<br /><br />Waterval Boven!: A big thanks to Gustav and Alex for putting me up at the Roc and Rope while I climbed, chilled with friends and partied at the Rock Rally!! Boven has got some world class climbing so if you haven't been there yet, I highly recommend it! If you want to be shown around, Jan is a great guy and a very knowledgable guide!<br /><br />It was really good to be around friends, which made the next week particularly tough. This was compounded by icy-cold mist reducing the the visibility to around 15m for the first day and a half out of boven, and getting caught in a serious thunderstorm which left me drenched under my hastily erected poncho-shelter. But I tried my best to keep on smiling and I think I did a pretty good job considering.<br /><br />My tenacity paid off and I met some really friendly people in Amsterdam (no genital piercing photographs in this Amsterdam) and Piet Retief, which is where I stayed last night.<br /><br />Up to date!Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-43667077494103260652009-10-03T13:02:00.002+02:002009-10-06T12:01:36.075+02:00Updates!!!!Ok...<br /><br />I think I've narrowed it down: The reason I haven't been blogging is because I let myself get so far behind that I'm dreading having to type everything that's happened over the past few months (and my up, down, and select buttons have stopped working so I have to crab and rotate my way around my phone!). So I've decided to get up to date in a highlights package fashion. There won't be as much detail but I think it needs to be done to avoid any detriment to my future accounts. I imagine the following being read in a deep American voice with lots of explosions in the background, much like a trailer for a Hollywood blockbuster:<br /><br />Lots of small villages where everyone still gets around with donkey carts and people on the horizon wave back!<br /><br />Reginald and Amandus: Two really cool missionaries from Tanzania who were very entertaining, very friendly, and going beyond their duties as missionaries to improve the community.<br /><br />The Carroll family: 3 of them quit their jobs for a family reunion!<br /><br />Willie Bloem: Flew out from his farm and landed his plane next to the road just to bring me some fresh fruit!<br /><br />Lorenzo the crazy florist: One day in Mafikeng I get this very hippie sms about the universe, turns out it was just Lourens' way of seeing if I was a tolerable sort of guy. My reply past the test and he joined me for 2 days. Wish I could load the photo of his bling hat he bought in Zeerust, the locals were quite amused to see this white-boy walking around in a kwaito hat, as was I! Good company!<br /><br />More confused locals when my friends, the Rinsmas and Simpsons, found me on a dirt road west of Thabazimbi. And exploded out of three cars with sparking wigs and hats that they got at a show the night before. The party got us some strange looks, one guy even stopped his bicycle and stared at us for a good hour or so! After a roadside picnic and a walk we headed to a farm on the border that belongs to the extended Simpson family. Such a beautiful place! Right on the crocodile river, so lots of paddling and general relaxing with friends (basically extended family). Also got some awesome letters from some kids at Woodland Preparatory, run by the Rinsmas. The letters were great to read, especially since I went to Woodland and it shaped alot of my character and my outlook on life.<br /><br />Jan from Ellisras: An engineer who gave me a fantastic tour of the powerstation!<br /><br />A realisation that where there are good schools, everyone is happy: I must say that I was very impressed with the North-West province, their government really looks after the rural villages and their are really good schools. Unfortunately this was not the case when I entered the Limpopo province. I had a very interesting chat with a school teacher and he was less than impressed with the government. It was interesting because he was very politically aware compared to most rural villagers that I have met. I'm sure his English and History students will be an asset to the next generation!<br /><br />Mafala: I met him in the sister reserve of Blotberg, he was one of the key figures in a conservation effort that worked with local schools educating communities about the local vulture colonies which were dwindling due to the young birds being sold to Sangomas for "medicinal" use. The program was incredibly successful and was on the verge of huge international funding, but the Limpopo government basically decided that conservation wasn't important and due to various local actions, international funding was lost. The program still continues thanks to some private funding, but not nearly to the same efficacy as it used to. I am astounded by the number of people that I have met along the way who are trying, and have the capacity, to do so much good for this country, but can't because of our politicians' inability to think about anyone but themselves. We need people like Mafala and the history teacher in politics.<br /><br />Getting lost: my map tends to be quite vague on secondary roads, especially with new roads being tarred (on that point, I think road building has to be one of the best forms of job creation around; all the road works that I have passed have required at least 3 people supervising one person working!) and all the signs pointing to small villages with African names when my map has the old surveyor's names. So I got the feeling that my map was about to lead me in the wrong direction and asked a passing taxi driver where to go. After greetings the conversation went as follows:<br />Me: Sorry, do you know where Blouberg nature reserve is?<br />Driver: Hmmm... Blouberg... Oh yes... Yes... Yes... If you take this dirt road... And... You follow it... And... You will get to a village...<br />Me: [mentally preparing myself to remember detailed directions accumulated over a lifetime of driving and local living]<br />Driver: Then you will ask them how to get to Blouberg... Yes...<br /><br />I ended up walking from village to village getting directions in broken Tswana and Afrikaans!<br /><br />Blouberg: If you're a climber, you know why I'm speechless. Would've killed for a climbing partner and a trad rack! Must head back there!<br /><br />Carel, Ad, Jaco and Boerie: Awesome people (and dog) in Louis Trichardt! Carel organised and participated in a charity cycle from Beitbridge to Cape Town, so he is also something of a long distance adventurer. Jaco walked with me for the first day out of Louis Trichardt then cycled back. They live and work in Schoemansdal, an environmental education centre at the base of the beautiful Soutpansberg.Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-44773041823445938482009-09-08T08:36:00.002+02:002009-09-08T09:35:15.171+02:00PhalaborwaJust a quick update to say that I'm in Phalaborwa right now, and about to head South to Hoedspruit.<br /><br />Unfortunately I couldn't organise a walk through reserve area so I have to break the 100km limit just for this short stretch. Spent forever on the phone to Kruger Park being transferred from beurocrat to beurocrat getting nowhere, and the private reserves didn't help much either, but it is largely my fault for leaving it so late (I am the king of procrastination!). No use sulking though so I'm looking at it as an excercise in dynamics...<br /><br />Also, suddenly summer has arrived! In literally three days it went from freezing cold to stinking hot! So I'm going to change my walking routine to start at sparrow's fart and take a long break in the afternoon heat before an evening session.<br /><br />Been in Phalaborwa now for 4 days waiting for a dodgy tummy to sort itself out so I'm now pretty well rested and ready to push for the coast! Also can't wait to get to Nelspruit as there is a cinema there, haven't watched a movie in a cinema in 4 months!!!! If you don't know already, movie-going is a pretty big part of my life!<br /><br />Spoke with Jaco Swart over the phone the other day, he's walking aroung the border barefoot!! He's walking the other way around (up the East and down the West) but unfortunately we managed to miss each other as I cut a bit South to walk next to the Soutpansberg. Very nice guy and very determined! I think his website is www.kaalvoetsolo.co.za, check it out!<br /><br />Otherwise, my Shangaan is slowly improving but I know that as soon as it starts to get good I'll move into Swazi area! It's happened so far with Tswana, Sotho, and Venda, but I'm enjoying learning different languages! From what I can pick up though, Shangaan should help me a bit with Zulu and I'll be in Zulu areas for a while.<br /><br />Hope everyone is doing well!Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-19564766750531162072009-08-29T20:59:00.001+02:002009-08-29T20:59:32.117+02:00Perspective.Tonight I am sleeping in a police station in a small town in rural Limpopo called Vuwani. <br /><br />While I was waiting for the room I am staying in to clear, a boy of about 7 years old sat tentatively on the chair next to me and I greeted him in the little bit of Venda that I know. Quietly he looked up at me and nodded a badly bruised head. The combination of bruises and a police station can lead one to a pessamistic view on the origin of bruises, but I hoped that he had fallen while playing soccer or something and only looked so dazed because he didn't know quite how to react to this scruffy white guy sitting next to him. The lady who had greeted me earlier in English smiled and asked if I knew Venda, and I explained that I had just started learning. The little boy asked me something in Venda which she translated as, "Where is your car?!", I laughed and tried to explain what I was doing in English while the lady translated. He milled this over for some, then asked again, "But where is your car?!". The lady and myself just laughed...<br /><br />The room cleared and I went down to where I would lay my sleeping mat on the floor and spend the night. The officer explained that the room I am staying in is used for counseling victims of domestic violence. We headed back to the main building of the station so that he could show me where the bathroom was. As we were walking I asked the officer if there is a big problem with domestic violence in the area, to which he replied, "A very big problem! This lady for instance is a [victim] of domestic violence." and pointed to a woman who was laying down her blankets, much like I was about to do, to spend the night on the concrete floor of the police station. She had one child strapped to her back and her oldest stood next to her with that dazed look that I had hoped was just out of suprise at seeing a white hobo in his small town. But the dazed look wasn't because of me and the bruises weren't from falling during soccer or some other fun thing. As I lay my sleeping mat down on the concrete floor in the counseling office I realised that I was doing it out of choice, that boy's mother was doing out of necessity.<br /><br />That just added a little perspective to my night and my lifestyle in general. I suddenly have a far greater appreciation for my freedom of choice.<br /><br />Feet are feeling better by the day and looking forward to another good days walking tomorrow! By choice.Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-63558777885844945342009-08-27T22:50:00.003+02:002009-08-29T14:11:55.330+02:00Louis Trichardt... I mean Makhado... No wait... Louis Trichardt!I must apologise for the lack of blogging, but I've not really been in the mood... So this is just a quick "I'm not dead yet" (Don't worry! I'm not planning to die on this trip but my eventual death is inevitable, hence the "yet").<br /><br />I'm currently in Louis Trichardt, which was Makhado for a short while before officially changing back to being Louis Trichardt (though many of the local signage is as confused as I am). I am being accommodated by Carel, a local cyclist who found be on the road while training and I have had a fantastic 2 day rest (after not having a single rest day last week!) in the nature reserve and environmental education centre that he works at. I recently had a wonderful visit from some close friends (basically extended family) whose company did me a world of good!<br /><br />Details and updates to follow soon... ish...<br /><br />Also, check out the September issue of Go or Weg magazine, I'm on page 16!Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-29919076467018348492009-08-01T12:53:00.003+02:002009-08-03T14:44:41.781+02:00QWERTY!!!A QWERTY keyboard now lies beneath my fingers, much better than blogging from a cellphone!!! I'm sitting at an Internet cafe in Mafikeng, there are malls, restaurants, franchises and chain stores! All quite a change from what I've been walking through, but more of that later.<br /><br />From Andriesvale where the Germans had found me and Johnny Depp dropped me off, I headed a short way to Askham. That's where the whole lightweight revolution happened which I've already mentioned. It's also where I met TJ who made the change possible by letting me leave Olive in his garage till I finish. It was great to meet TJ not only for that reason but also because he was a welcome change from the largely unfriendly, conservative population on the stretch between Noeniput and Askham. I was starting to wonder if there was any truth to the rumour that Kalahari people were friendly (aside from before Noeniput were people were incredibly friendly!), luckily TJ confirmed it. He seemed to get the ball rolling because after that I met the owners of Loch Broom Paradys who gave me a free night's stay and tried their best to load me with as much food as they could give me! I met Jaco and his family who ran a hunting lodge, they also had the coolest pet meerkat that they had rescued from someone dragging it around by a piece of wire. I thought I'd see more meerkats along the way because I was walking past the area where they filmed Meerkat Manor, an Animal Planet documentary series, but there were far more mongooses than meerkats along the way.<br /><br />Entering Van Zylsrus there is a sign that says, "Relax, this is Van Zylsrus". The laid-back and quirky nature of the welcoming sign was echoed by the Van Zylsrus Hotel. A highly recommended stopover if you're in the Kalahari, the decor is really something and facilities are excellent! I am doubly glad that Erns (the journalist from Weg! Magazine) recommended I try the hotel because before Van Zylsrus I would see pretty girls here and there and wonder if they were really pretty or if they just seemed so because I had been in the bush for the past two months, far from the window of Drifters in Sandton where the other guys and I would goggle at the models walking past (a cry of "Muesli" or some other code word would alert all the staff that something worth looking at was walking past, I think the customers must have thought we were insane when the fashion shows were on because shouts of "Muesli!" were frequent enough to make anyone think we all had a health-food variety of tourettes), but a girl in Van Zylsrus set a new standard! Sjoe... Hopefully more to write about her one day...<br /><br />Well, that's as far as I got on the QWERTY keyboard before the café closed. I left the hunt for an internet café till Saturday because I thought Mafikeng would be a big enough town for shops to stay open late on Saturdays... I was wrong. So back to the cell phone! Will carry on blogging to get back up to date but I'm not making any promises on a date, things tend not to go according to plan anyway.<br /><br />For now though, this is my first day leaving Mafikeng after I rested there for a week. The idea was to let my feet recover and get them good and strong but they feel worse now than when I walked into Mafikeng!! This makes the week feel like a waste but at least I ate and slept well...<br /><br />More to follow in the not too distant future...Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-55561757806343802272009-07-31T12:05:00.008+02:002009-08-01T12:52:02.912+02:00Flying Teddy Bears and other Survival StrategiesEven more interesting than the people is the wildlife of the Kalahari, the smaller creatures that I wouldn't have seen if I hadn't been walking. Beetles with concave heads that pile sand on their shells for camouflage, beetles that disguise themselves as bok-drol (one did a poor but entertaining impression of a fresh springbok dropping as it buried its head in the sand when you disturbed it, but another did a spectacularly convincing impression of a month-or-so old steenbok dropping!), bugs that look like flying teddy bears (I still haven't worked out how that's a survival strategy), but the most convincing disguise was a rock edged with succulent leaves that, when you got close, pretended for a while to be a locust, just long enough to get a few feet away from you so that it could carry on being a rock edged in leaves. <br /><br />The mice have also been entertaining, darting between tufts of grass where they survey the sky for predators before sprinting the next stretch of sand. One night, I happened to be standing in the way of one little mouse's nightly foraging routine. He looked surprised for a short while, then nibbled at my shoe and after deciding that at least that part of me wasn't edible, continued. Possibly the most spectacular thing has been the giant communal weaver nests, one single one as big as a Landy Defender 90 hanging from a telephone post. Some trees house bigger collections of nests though, a collection of 5 or so the size of small cars! Along with the multistory flats there were also the smaller modern style nests, where the nest was built on a telephone post but most of the next leaning out to one side supported by the wires as opposed to the pole. This gate those nests a distinct Jetsons look. There were also the loners, and communal weavers are pretty terrible at building single family nests! Functional though they are, they are anything but neat! This lends the odd tree scattered with smaller weaver nests the character of a colony of outcast hippies, all the more amusing when in their shade you find a poorly groomed sheep, sparing it's rastafarian style dreadlocks from the kalahari sun.<br /><br />Heading towards Askham, the striking outline of the quiver trees long gone, the giant nests of the weavers started to give way to the rollercoaster flights of the hornbills and the spectacular colours of the lilac-breasted rollers. The grassland gave way to a more bush-like terrain with far more trees and the road (which wasn't great to start with) turned to silt, sucking the wheels of the cart down and doubling, tripling the force needed to pull my worldly possessions. Then a day before Askham I found tar again for the first time in two weeks. I also found a well supplied shop, and Germans.<br /><br />They organised for me to leave Olive in the store room and we drove a few kilometres up the road to where they were camping for the night. On the way they tried to swing past the bottle store,"Ah man, it's closed..." one of them said, "But we don't care because we are in the f***ing Kalahari!!!!" to which everyone in the car replied with a loud cheer! This routine was repeated anytime something didn't go according to plan. 'Everyone' was Flo and Johnny (Be Good or Be Bad depending on what he was doing when his name was called) who were out from Germany working in the cape at a San educational centre along with Johnny (Depp) and the two other guys whose names I can't remember. Matza made three Germans, he was a friend of Flo's out to visit. We drove to Johnny Depp's father's farm, part of a communal farm area that had been given to the coloured and San community after they were evicted from the area where the Kgalagadi or Kalahari Gemsbok Park now exists. At first I envied the Flo and his two companions, mixing with the locals without having grown up with any racial tension, without anyone trying to blame them for whatever circumstance they find themselves in, but when the other two coloured guys got hopelessly drunk I sort of pittied them for perhaps seeing things out of context. The way they spoke about the 'boere' made me wish I could introduce them to all the friendly Afrikaaners that I had met that treated me and anyone of any colour with the utmost respect and welcoming hospitality. They did seem quite upset that their friends(and many people in the semi-integrated san community) were hopeless alcoholics though. They justified it as I've heard many people justify alcoholism in the coloured community, but their argument was flawed in that their sat Johnny Depp, a proud hardworking family man.<br /><br />Mostly the evening was very enjoyable though, I particularly enjoyed the company of Flo with who I shared a passion for music and life (though we expressed them in quite different ways which was interesting). Perhaps the most entertaining part of the evening was when I realised where I recognised the name of the place they all worked: Khwattu... On the second night of my walk I had snuck into their gatehouse for a place to sleep! I told them this, apologised for trespassing, and we all had a good laugh...<br /><br />I will hopefully get to an internet café soon where I can update the rest with a proper keyboard(hooray!)!! I am resting in Mafikeng at the moment so there are internet cafés, I was supposed to go today but it's a bit weathery and I'm a fair walk out of town. The forecast is good for tomorrow so I will hopefully get the blog completely up to date then. And thank you all for the comments! They are great to read!Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-74190159281779788002009-07-13T20:12:00.009+02:002009-07-31T11:54:14.447+02:00ToughNot the walking, although that's been tough too... What's tough now is trying to extract a small selection of moments from the last few weeks which I think someone reading this might find interesting. Not at all because there hasn't been much interesting happening but because so much interesting and strange things have happened that nothing is normal anymore! There is nothing with which to compare one day's experience to because each day is a standalone story, independent of the day before and the day after except maybe for the steady change in weight of food and water. Each moment in fact has become standalone and often I find myself so desensitised to the idea of walking that I forget where I'm going or why I'm going anywhere at all, drifting along in thought that both alienates me from and unifies me with everything withing the limits of the horizon. Being interrogated by a catholic missionary from Kenya who thinks I'm a spy provides an experience similar to being abducted by 3 crazy Germans and taken to a braai in the dunes with some alcoholic bushmen. A cold winters frost issues a rejection similar to an offensive stare from a disapproving local. A firm handshake and a friendly smile feels quite like the warmth of the morning sun. As hippy as that might sound it's hard to describe it in any other way! What is also tough is blogging from my phone, which is perhaps why I've been so reluctant to blog but here goes: <br /><br />Actually, before I roll the highlights reel, I think I should share with anyone reading a simple yet ingenious (I believe) formula that I resort to when I begin to lose track of where I'm going and why I'm going there. I cannot claim to be the first to propose such an idea as I have not had time to research what the great minds of our time have concluded on the subject of walking but I think you'll find this quite a revolutionary concept; a formula for walking! Mathematical perhaps not, more of a biomechanical formula that I believe could help many people on long walks (most don't realise but there are actually many people doing very long walks at the moment all around the world) who tend to stray or overcomplicate things. So, here it is:<br />Step 1: Move left foot forward.<br />Step 2: Move right foot forward.<br />Step 3: Repeat steps 1 and 2 while breathing.<br /><br />And that's it! After reducing the mechanics to something so simple, I find it strange when people find me strange. All I'm doing is putting one foot infront of the other and people can't seem to make sense of it. Of course I still need to do some testing on the formula, particularly the implications of starting with step 2 instead of step 1. I do worry that this may induce a bad day as the phrase 'to start off on the wrong foot' must have started somewhere! But on with the highlights...<br /><br />Kakamas has amazing dates! Not the Friday night kind, but the kind that are grown in Pella from trees that Oom Gertjie Niemöller brought from Yuma in America. These dates are best bought from Die Pienk Padstal, a shop with serious character! Past Kakamas I headed to Noeniput. En route I was fortunate enough to be accommodated by the Myburgh family."Ons is lief vir mense!", were Koot's words and his son ,Willem, and his family who I stayed with, certainly shared the sentiment. <br /><br />Just before the Myburgh family I had reached the 1000km mark! I was hoping to make some phone calls but the area had no reception so I quietly celebrated on my own by running back about a kilometre to try find one of my waterbottles that had fallen from Olive. No such luck. Instead I made some room in the other bottle and filled it with water from the dodgy dam next to my party stop. Thank goodness for water purification drops is all I can say!<br /><br />Past the Myburghs the landscape was almost dream like; vast grassy fields that danced in silver and gold around the occassional abandoned house where a rusty old windmill would slowly turn over in the wind providing the perfect ambience for a bunch of cannibals to invite you with a southern 'States hillbilly twang to come in for 'dinner'. Further on, the dunes began to sprout from the grassy plains. Some a tawny colour but most that deep Kalahari red. There's something comforting about the dunes, perhaps its the distance that you can see when you stand on top, some basic programming deep in the primitive part of our brains that rewards us for getting to a high point, where we can easily see any predators coming for miles, with a euphoric sense of calm. Or perhaps its that the dunes are affected by the weather on a time scale that is far easier for us to identify with than that of a rock formation carved out over millions of years. Instead the ripples in the dunes could have been formed by a strong wind that left you sand-blasted two days ago. Just as majestic as the rock formations, but in their geological youth and delicate nature, the dunes seem almost more playful and accommodating. <br /><br />The reborn missionaries in Noeniput are also accommodating but only, I think, because they wanted to try convert me. The Kalahari is hard core God country! But I have respect for anyone until they show a lack of respect for me, so when a grossly overweight missionary laughs at my beliefs I can't help but laugh when he mentions that gluttony is a sin. The Myburghs were also strong christians but had enough respect for me to not want to convert me, even showing interest in my beliefs. I think that's why I liked them so much, they were naturally good natured. Genuine.Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-89006212640950385582009-07-06T21:38:00.005+02:002009-07-06T22:27:40.081+02:00It started with a stove...I must apologise for my lack of blogging, I went through a patch without signal for two weeks and have since been deep in thought... There is so much to tell and I've had so many amazing experiences but after thinking and planning so much I'm pretty tired and it's quite late now so this will be a quick elaboration on my thought and its resulting effect on me and Olive.<br /><br />It started when I couldn't find benzine at the shop (shortly before being abducted by crazy germans, but more of that in the next blog), and had to buy parafin to run my stove. I discovered that parafin is a dirty horrible fuel so I thought of making an alcohol stove to burn methylated spirits until I could find benzine. So I logged onto the net and researched alcohol stoves. I had briefly read one or two articles about a year ago on how to make simple yet very effective alcohol stoves out of 1 or more tin cans. On my way to discovering the Supercat stove (google it, very cool design and so easy to make!) I discovered tonnes of references to ultralight hiking which favour alcohol stoves. I always thought ultralight hiking was for a 3-5 day stint of absolute bare essentials, sleeping uncomfortably and eating terrible foods. Then came the food for thought...<br /><br />I started to find accounts of people hiking for 1000km+ with backpacks under 10kg! One particularly impressive account was Ray Jardine and his wife hiking the Pacific Crest trail, which is over 2000 miles, with an 8 pound pack! Obviously you need a heavier pack if you're going solo or if water is not as readily available, but even then a 12 kg pack is not too shabby at all! So I've decided to go ultralight! <br /><br />Tomorrow I will leave Askham without Olive. I will miss her as she has seen me through some long distances without water or food, but there are more farms here so I don't need to carry as much water. I'm also enjoying this walk so much that I feel I don't need luxuries like my guitar to have fun (though that took alot to conclude, I think it will be the hardest thing to go without). Other gear like my stove is great for expeditions, but I'm essentially doing mild weather hiking so I'll be fine with my tin can stove and will eventually do without my tent.<br /><br />It's been a comparatively quick decision, but one that I'm excited to implement! I'm incredibly grateful to TJ, the owner of the local café, who has offered to store my gear in his garage for the duration of the trip! If it weren't for him I would have had to do some serious logistical planning! <br /><br />I think going ultralight will radically alter my walk and offer me a greater freedom. This thought has had me filled with nervous excitement for the past few days! I hope that everyone who reads this is doing well in their own adventures and endeavors and is as or more excited about something than I am about this whole trip! It's an incredible feeling to be so free and live so simply... So much to write, but very tired and nervous and excited for tomorrow, so will update another day. Till then...Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-18771853863109934592009-06-13T21:07:00.003+02:002009-06-13T21:22:12.847+02:00The week so nice I blogged it twice!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhpwCOOe_PfrMR8S97SvEn0kV_B7k5OVcl8hu-hkyA4MDRNQuSjiplFb_aFI6LXBuLT4TLvDVeCh1IK3Gnc68qzltHxUaYqPArqcImdzXkGRjLGMcYtM5fFAMDV2HGQFWrvdjJ8eMiZPx_/s1600-h/07062009375-001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: undefinedpx; height: undefinedpx;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhpwCOOe_PfrMR8S97SvEn0kV_B7k5OVcl8hu-hkyA4MDRNQuSjiplFb_aFI6LXBuLT4TLvDVeCh1IK3Gnc68qzltHxUaYqPArqcImdzXkGRjLGMcYtM5fFAMDV2HGQFWrvdjJ8eMiZPx_/s320/07062009375-001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346894575273661186" /></a><br />With the browser I'm using on my phone I can only type so much at one time so here's the rest! Don't worry, not too much longer...<br /><br />The people here are generally very friendly! The weather is good, I'm feeling strong so I'm looking forward to the road ahead! My shoes aren't though, I've worn the heels down to the midsole! Hopefully Kakamas has a shoes store... Can't say for sure when I'll be able to blog as signal is dodge out here and without my solar panel, even when there is signal my battery on this phone doesn't last long out of towns. Fortunately for sms and call sake I have a basic phone that is bomb-proof! Also, I have a Vodacom sim card for when there's no MTN signal, will be interesting to see which network has the best coverage, so far Vodacom's winning... But there's still a long way to go. A very long way!Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-22246983652196039322009-06-13T20:48:00.002+02:002009-06-13T20:50:40.542+02:00So much to say, so few characters...One might be inclined to think that I haven't blogged for a while because I've been sulking about my guitar, but one would be wrong. My spirit in fact has been high lately! My cellphone signal and battery though have been otherwise. But now in Pofadder I find spirit, signal and battery in agreement so here is an update.<br /><br />The road from Garies to Springbok was anything but flat. Fortunately it had been that way for sometime though so my muscles had adapted and walking wasn't too bad. One of the things I miss now about that mountainous terrain is the sections where a hill had been cut away for the road leaving two parallel bands of vertical rock. The harmonics in these little gullies were amazing and were a big help in passing the time during rests learning to throat sing. Throat singing is when you isolate the harmonics in your voice to produce more than one tone at the same time. It helps to have a practice area with good acoustics, and thanks to those spots I'm getting pretty good. I can now construct basic melodies from the overtones. I was hoping to be able to integrate this technique into some songs but it sounds pretty strange so we'll see. When I was researching the technique I discovered that there are some western musicians who have collaborated with throat singers (aka overtone singers) or learned the technique themselves and used it in folk-type music. It would be interesting to hear what they came up with. Glued my guitar today so by tomorrow evening it should have set rock solid and be ready for some serious experimentation!<br /><br />The day before I got to Springbok, I was given a free bed at Namakwa Game Lodge! I had a great time playing songs and chatting about the area with the owner and the groundskeeper! A hot shower, a comfortable bed and 25km later I found myself in Springbok. It was alot bigger and busier than I expected and in trying to negotiate the traffic and pavements I buckled the right wheel severely. It didn't spring back humorously like it had done before, this was a proper buckle! I couldn't fuss too much because I was right in the middle of the road so I dragged poor Olive to next pavement. Stepping off the last one had rendered her in a condition unsuitable for any more pavement hopping so I had to drag her in the road, dodging taxis and catatonic locals on my way to Springbok Lodge where I joined two journalists who I had met a few hours before on the road. Erns and Simone are a writer and photographer busy working on an article on the Northern Cape for Weg magazine. A writer and a photographer!!! Like minded people!!! It was very cool chatting to them when they interviewed me just before Springbok and when I arrived, in shock after emerging from desolation, in the metropolis of Springbok they somehow provided a sense of familiarity. They, like Johan from Garies, had told me to come to the lodge to speak to Oom Jopie, king of namakwaland tourism, about the history of the area. I'm very glad I did because he also offered me a free bed! His timing was especially good as the lid for my container on my cart had given way, emptying all my possession onto the street, while inverted in my efforts to fix my wheel. So from the lowest of the low things suddenly weren't so bad! Then the guy who helped me carry my stuff broke my guitar.<br /><br />Fortunately, thanks to Oom Jopie, I had a place to stay where I rested well, ate well, and bought a puzzle book which has now got me hooked on sudoku! I managed to fix the wheel enough to continue, though at one point the steel exceeded its elastic limit leaving the rim deformed. Hopefully in Kakamas I'll find somewhere to buy a new wheel.<br /><br />After a rest day, the road held some pleasant suprises... There were no more hills! And there was an emergency lane to walk in! And the tar doesn't trap my trekking poles yanking my arms backwards like the N7 did! The N14 rocks!! Then the wind started. I can handle the rain, the heat, the cold, but the wind will take some getting used to. Other than the wind though, the six days (including a rest day) between Springbok and Pofadder were really enjoyable! I settled into a good rhythm on the flat ground. The clouds on the first few days caught the sun in a manner that had the continuous carpet of grass glowing in silvers and golds from horizon to horizon. The plant and bird life here are spectacular! An endless variety of succulents under the giant nests of communal weavers! Everywhere you go there are these beetles that look like tok-tokkies but are covered in spikes and I can't help but picture them in a Gary Larson world: The rebels of the insect world, covered in piercings, spray-painting misspelt graffiti while making rude comments at passing lady-bugs.<br /><br />Now I find myself in Pofadder at a motel-style self catering place. Not too much in Pofadder. At all. I did have a very interesting chat though to oom Gertjie Niemöller who makes some amazing ornaments out of the local rock. My Afrikaans isn't great unfortunately so I missed alot of what he said but the manner in which he said it was very cool. There he sat, 81 years old, robed, at his command post in the middle of 60 years worth of boxes, photographs, stones, catalogues of his highly skilled work, all which he had one of his employees charging around and fetching at his command with the coordination of a military strike which, when the smoke of the battle and his "most terrible tobacco" had cleared, found me far wiser and three stone pendants richer.Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-22751082558156216182009-06-06T00:29:00.001+02:002009-06-06T00:39:29.679+02:00Somebody broke my guitarSomebody snapped the neck of my guitar today. I don't much feel like talking about what exactly happened because I'm pretty bleak about it. So all I'm gonna say for now is that somebody broke my guitar. I'm gonna let myself feel sorry for myself tonight but in the morning I'll see if I can find someone who can help me fix it. If I can't then I'm not allowed to let it bother me and I'm gonna write an update on the week so far in a good mood without mentioning the guitar. But right now I'm pretty bummed because I can't play guitar. Because somebody broke it. Fool.Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-68552472031748386312009-06-02T13:22:00.005+02:002009-06-02T14:33:25.730+02:00Cows<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy1kxfYhhKHIwhAkcgho06OvzmKdJt1J1da8NjsN2O8J3fl0JF3M-iH_0PZhK3GuhCJtE6wrXPkmefD9SpT5dT3iVNg2v9AN5ed8eBZdWxrKh_HYGMwRY08C9dLjtczSaeFpx1tYCS1w26/s1600-h/01062009356-001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: undefinedpx; height: undefinedpx;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy1kxfYhhKHIwhAkcgho06OvzmKdJt1J1da8NjsN2O8J3fl0JF3M-iH_0PZhK3GuhCJtE6wrXPkmefD9SpT5dT3iVNg2v9AN5ed8eBZdWxrKh_HYGMwRY08C9dLjtczSaeFpx1tYCS1w26/s320/01062009356-001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342690069756237426" /></a><br />Cows aren't the smartest of animals. I know this because during high school I had a part time job as a horse-back trail guide where, when there were no guests, one of my duties was to help herd the small herd of cattle between pastures and the kraal. After endless dismounting from my horse to chase stray cows from thorny thickets and generally keep them alive and going where they were supposed to be despite their best efforts to get lost and die, I concluded that cows are dumb. The reason I am mentioning this is that I have noticed a startling similarity between the looks that I get from most people on the road, and the looks that you get from a herd of cattle as you walk past: That blank stare with jaw ajar and slightly to one side, caught off guard during its routine of cud chewing by your unexpected appearance. Knowing what I know about cattle, this leads me to wonder about the general population of the country... But I digress.<br /><br />Jeremy and I joked about me losing my mind when I started walking through what we affectionately called "the nothing", and I came pretty darn close! "The nothing" refers to the desolate semi-desert that I find myself in at the moment, the Hardeveld and the Namakwaland, but I must say it is actually very beautiful out here! The mountains are hard on the legs but easy on the eyes. Scattered here and there are tiny clusters of yellow, pink, and white flowers, I can only imagine how pretty it is here when the daisies bloom! It took a few days to see the beauty here though, and walking out from Strandfontein without having had a proper rest took me for a physical and psychological 6 runs! But I trudged on through uphills and headwinds, driven by anticipation for what the brochure had described as the cultural oasis of the Hardeveld: Bitterfontein. The brochure lied. <br /><br />Bitterfontein is the end of the line, literally. It started when a trucking company won a legal battle, halting the construction of a railway line to Springbok. Nevertheless I found my oasis in the Dawn Ridge Guest House, where I was given a bed in trade for some computer help by John (a retired parabat, amongst other things) and Dawn (a retired nurse). Staying with them was more like visiting eccentric relatives than staying at a guest house which made Bitterfontein a great experience! This despite the nature of the rest of the locals. Bitterfontein, my hosts explained got its name not from the taste of the water but from the nature of the people. I had to laugh at the honest humour. <br /><br />After two days' rest to make up for the lack of rest the previous week, I walked another 2 days to Garies to conclude a 154km week. Yesterday I walked to a picnic spot where I had a great rest day! Writing, playing guitar and drinking coffee made with the local water(which tastes pretty bad on its own but makes a great coffee strangely enough). A few hundred metres down the road I met Johan and Magrieta Leeuwner who cooked me supper and gave me a bed, so today I return to my usual routine feeling strong as an ox! And smarter than a cow...Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-2845612491861238452009-05-24T11:42:00.000+02:002009-05-24T14:44:14.626+02:00Naturally...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgREbU2ngWVCuwIJHo6AF2Pdl_DNHrogMp6xA0aN48L28emmD_Q1rHxeVXHoi3rylbzAWJKwBxbPoQJokMZh6orBHhwD1glLgMmOTwQW46govJdD8udbSdnSxM2MuV4OgBq3jWZdd7ptUwi/s1600-h/20052009328-002.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: undefinedpx; height: undefinedpx;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgREbU2ngWVCuwIJHo6AF2Pdl_DNHrogMp6xA0aN48L28emmD_Q1rHxeVXHoi3rylbzAWJKwBxbPoQJokMZh6orBHhwD1glLgMmOTwQW46govJdD8udbSdnSxM2MuV4OgBq3jWZdd7ptUwi/s320/20052009328-002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339343298105785826" /></a><br />The Mountain Club of South Africa supports a wide variety of styles when it comes to mountaineering, but as far as swimming goes there is one style in particular that its members seem to enjoy. While the club does not include the strongest swimmers around, there is a particular flair with which many MCSA members take to the water. And so, being on an MCSA sponsored trip, when i came across a beach where I could not see a single human being in any direction, I took to the water in a fashion that I believe my sponsors would approve of... Naturally...<br /><br />Walking since Paternoster has been good. After covering 45 km to get to Velddrif, I was offered a bed by a family of real estate agents. As well as being a booking agent, the lady who offered me accommodation in Paternoster is also a Real Estate agent, so it would seem that the Western Cape has quite a friendly collection of realters! From there it was 30 km till I found the beach. The west coast road takes quite a turn inland after Dwarskersbos, so I was was walking along a dirt road that runs next to the railway line just behind the dunes. Every now and then a sliver of ocean would appear, brightly reflecting the sun at one point like a weld between sky and sand. I knew there had to be some secret unspoilt coast behind the dunes and I was right! I got permission from the farmer and camped about 200m off the road in the veld. It was about another 800m to the beach where I took a rest day, naturally...<br /><br />From there it was another 30 km to a terribly dodgy campsite Elandsbaai (fortunately the guard let me out without paying!), and another 27 to Lambert's Bay where I used some of the money that I've saved by sleeping on the roadside to spoil myself with a bed and a shower! At R100 a night it was only R5 rand more expensive than the dodgy campsite! Accommodation is very overpriced on the West Coast, especially being a climber used to my favourite sites at R30 a night, or some places in the Transkei for R10! From Lamberts Bay I was hoping to find some cheap accommodation in Doringbaai or Strandfontein to take a set day at but haven't found anything. I have decided instead to take two easy days walking instead of one rest day, sleeping where I can find safe spots off the road. Yesterday I walked 25 km and slept under a small, disused railway bridge (still used by the train though so it was a noisy night! ), and today i intend to walk 20 km. This will bring my week's total (excluding the days lost to weather in Paternoster) to 177 km, well above my quota of 150 km. My feet are still a bit sore though and while this past week has been almost entirely dirt, from here I head on to tar which is alot harder on the feet. Hopefully the accommodation is cheaper inland and I can find a good spot to rest and do some washing soon! <br /><br />This is my last day along the shore before I hit the North Coast so I'm taking in the see view from just past Doringbaai. The West Coast has been beautiful, but the accommodation is overpriced and the people here generally aren't very friendly. Fortunately I have found safe places to camp freely and met people who's quality of friendliness outweighs the quantity of the unfriendly, which has made this stretch of the coast most enjoyable! I've seen some amazing things and had such a great experience so far that all the songs I've written but couldn't find words to are suddenly finishing themselves with far greater imagery and substance than I could have written before. Very glad I've got my guitar with me! as for the photos, I haven't taken as many as expected, but I'm not too worried. It has, after all, only been two weeks! I still got over 8 months left on the road! My perception of time has taken a bit of a knock but I'm slowly getting into it and just putting one foot infront of the other. The tough days are the days I think about how far I've come and how far I'm going, but more and more I'm learning to just take it as it comes and enjoy... So with that, I'm going to go enjoy my last sunset over the Atlantic...Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3605258998647466053.post-24361053155904633202009-05-17T09:59:00.000+02:002009-05-28T12:41:53.286+02:00Rest and Good PeopleI have been fortunate in life to spend alot of time around people who are very good at what they do, this didn't change during my stay with the Lees family in Jacobsbaai. Laura Lees is the aunt of a friend of mine (Marisa, a very good tattoo artist!) in Joburg and was kind enough to let me stay with her and her family for two nights while i took a rest day. She and her husband Dennis make their living off of pottery and painting respectively. It's encouraging for me as a young musician and photographer to see people who pursue their passion enough to make a living off of it. They seem to have passed that passion on to Vincent, Dennis' 18 year old son who is deadly on a drum kit! I had planned to get alot done on my first rest day but i enjoyed the company so much that between jamming sessions with Vincent, talking sense with Laura and Dennis, and talking nonsense with Jessica and Benjamin (the youngest members of the family, Jess in Grade 1 and Ben in Preschool), I got pretty much nothing done!<br /><br />Setting out on day 6 my feet were still sore and the wind was howling, but had i stayed any longer in I don't think i would ever have left! So i said my goodbyes and left for Paternoster. After a long day of uphills, headwinds and narrow roads, i arrived in the small fishing village. I got in touch with a booking agent named Marina (www.stayinpaternoster.co.za) who has let me stay in one of the houses she rents virtually free of charge(I'm just covering the cost of the maid to clean up after i leave)! The timing couldn't have been better as I had just received a phone call from my uncle in Cape Town that there was a massive storm on its way that emergency services were on standby for. <br /><br />This is now the third day in the house waiting for the storms to pass. There have been some bad ones but not as bad as I expected. I think they unleashed alot of their power in Cape Town where there has been alot of flooding my dad tells me. The rest is welcome as i covered more ground than expected in the first few days so i'm still on schedule. Also my feet and legs are doing well for the rest. The gait required to pull Olive along is quite different to carrying a backpack, so despite being very fit my legs are taking strain getting used to it. Besides resting I've been making some jewelry to sell and working on some new songs. I've also been putting some thought to how i want to theme my exhibition. I took my first photos just before i entered Jacobsbaai of some landscapes behind fences. I've been trying to think of how my walk affects the way i see things and one of the thing i've noticed is that because of pulling the cart and essentially becoming quadrupedal, fences have become far greater obstacles. Where as normally one could just hop over a fence to get away from the road and find somewhere safe to sleep, I've had to find open gates or areas that aren't fenced to sleep in on the first three nights. I started to become quite animalistic in the way i viewed things but now that I've been in houses the past few nights, I can feel the onset of the neuroses of modern living. I think too much thinking though, might just prevent me from intuitively discovering what I should be photographing. I like how Lukas Zpira likens the constant justification of our actions to a dog fighting to defend piece of meat, and so I hope that when I find what I should be photographing, the images will be strong enough in concept and aesthetics to stand without the need for explanation.<br /><br />Tomorrow I'll start walking to (and hopefully past) Stompneus Bay over 20km of dirt road. These few days have and will involve a more convoluted path than expected but it is a very pretty part of the coast. My quota for each week is 150km which i covered last week and shouldn't have any problem covering this week... Weather permitting...Kyle Meenehanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122188406735748816noreply@blogger.com4