Execution Rock

Ah the joys of monarchy! I'm not sure I've ever visited one save for Jordan. There are smiling portraits of the slightly rotund King Mswati III all about the country. The more I dwell on it though, I probably see a similar number of Obama stateside particularly as I frequent government installations for my job. King Mswati III clearly has Obama beat on wife and children count though. Right now, he's got a cool 15 wives and 24 next gens.

In two days in Swaziland, we completed two relatively easy hikes. The first was to a recently scorched  mountain top an hour and a half's walk from our hostel. There are wildfires burning in just about every direction you look. I guess the grasses that are burning are so light that the fire never really gets hot enough to ignite trees (although every trunk bares the mark of fire). The plant life near houses is well manicured so that the fires don't get too close to people's houses. None the less, I can't really be sure of the source of all the fires (it is dry season, but I haven't seen any lightning that would have started these things) or their purpose (they are burning on hilltops and over rocky crags, not fields for slash and burn farming). By far the best thing about the burning is just looking up at the lines fire crisscrossing the mountains at night.

Our second hike took us to a more storied summit, the fabled 1110 meter high Execution Rock (what's up Table mountain?). Kings of old used to force criminals and witches to walk off the edge of the cliff at spear point. It was my favorite of the two hikes because it covered a little more diverse landscape, walked us right through a group of 10 zebras, and was a bit more strenuous. We refueled after the hike in a fashion that proved we were back in the orbit of South Africa. Grilled meats galore! Of course to up the ante, Swaziland had no reservations in throwing impala and African bison into our meat baskets.

Execution Rock

Summit of the first hike

Our nights in Swaziland might be characterized by a lapse in our usually sound moral judgement. First, we headed to a local hot springs called the Cuddle Puddle. What we thought might have been a clever and somewhat tongue in cheek name though turned out to be a little closer to the truth than we would have liked. In every corner of the mood lit pool there were couples getting handsy. Kulsum was deterred from using the the woman's locker room by a couple advocating a name change. The romp swamp, lay bay, or shag quag would have been more accurate based on what had occurred inside the changing room. With our first evening plans thwarted, we made another suspect decision and headed to the local casino. It was fun to throw bills marked in the hundreds down on the table. I went up 80 dollars playing blackjack but with the words of Semion Bezrukov sounding in my head I decided it was time to win big or not at all. In my final act of the evening I walked over to the roulette table and put 40 dollars on black and 40 dollars on 13. Red 23 came up and I broke even for the night.

Swiftly to Swazi

We dashed to the Swaziland/Mozambique line intent on dodging midday traffic that Bodds and I have learned to associate with border-crossings. We succeeded and had an uneventful and waitless passport stamping. Even though it was 9am in the morning, Kulsum was chowing down on a Double Chocolate Magnum Ice Cream bar. After the border guard gave one longing look at the ice cream novelty, I reached into the backseat and handed him a cool Brisk iced tea. The tea once reserved for bribes was no longer needed as we waived Mozambique goodbye. A part of me was sad that I didn’t get a second, bolder attempt at bribery.

These thoughts were soon forgotten and we blazed a trail across the Kingdom—yes Kingdom—of Swaziland. After three hours of driving we were very near reentry into South Africa. We decided to find a backpackers hostel to put us up for a few nights. Unfortunately, the hostel that came widely recommended had no vacancy, but I figured it was about time for me to sack up (despite being without sleeping bag) and join Kulsum and Bodds in the tent they hauled around Southern African for the previous 3 weeks. In proved a long a cold night for me, but I was relieved to find that some beds had opened up by the time the second night had rolled around.

One of the most notable things about Swaziland was the attitude of its people. I’ve been to plenty of places where the people are kind and giving beyond all expectation (Turkey, Baghdad, and Tanzania spring to mind) but Swaziland took helpfulness and cheeriness to the next level. We were literally sitting in the turn lane at a red light deciphering a map, when a woman in the passenger seat of a car two lanes over engaged us just in case we might be lost (we were). She then provided us directions and arranged with her driver and the car that had arrived in the lane between us to let us pass ahead in order to make a turn in the opposition direction from the one we were preparing to take. Another time, when we were looking for the start to hike, a Swazi insisted he walk 5 minutes to the start of the trail with us to make sure we got started on the right path. Folks were always super helpful and never lingered expectant of tips.

The Maputo Central Market and Beyond

Checking out the Central Market

Eating a Custard Apple

Both of our stops in Maputo were more for utility than to see the city. We needed a place to crash to continue our journey to more prioritized destinations (the beaches and islands of Mozambique and the Royal Kingdom of Swaziland). During our second stint though we managed to see a bit more though. It was well worth it as the city proved a hub for goods we had seen across the country and offered some interesting food.

Mozambican-Indian Food: We sought out the sister of one of Kulsum's friends who is living and working in Maputo. She knew the city a bit and was able to guide us to an Indian Restaurant. It was here that we compared the Mozambique twist on Indian food to the American one. As many other Mozambique restaurants, about half of the menu was not in stock, but we still managed to find some Palak Paneer (spinach and cheese dish), Butter Chicken, Veggie Curry Fry, and Chickpea Masala that were quite good. The Palak Paneer was thick with bright green spinach that I wondered might even be a slightly different variety of the vegetable than is common in the United States. The chickpea masala was light and spicy and made for a tasty dish. The highlight of the meal might have been the Butter Chicken which was rich and nicely spiced, and not unlike a version I might find in the US.

The Central Market- On the Saturday morning before we left Maputo, we checked out the Central Market. The market was no bigger than the 30th street market in Philly, but contained a different world of fruit and vegetables. The diversity of fresh spices and more commercialized vendors was dazzling. Particularly we found two fruits I had never seen before. The first was the Custard Apple, an Indonesia-native, green bumpy fruit with a white interior. The white flesh is full of hard black seeds bigger than a watermelon's that need spit out. Its flavor is like a slightly sour pineapple. I really enjoyed. We also purchased a soursop which I think it actually in the same family as the custard apple. It has a smoother green skin covered in soft spikes that look (but do not feel) much like a cactus. It too is full of white flesh and black seeds, but is a more consistent flesh. The custard apple was kind of compartmentalized like a cross between a pomegranate and a orange. The flavor of soursop was not nearly as appealing as the custard apple. It may have been under-ripe. It tasted very sour and flowery. I also managed to purchase some homemade mozambique-style peri-peri sauce in the market. I look forward to attempting the spicy chicken dish upon my return.

Upgrading to the Big Bus

After our exploration of Vilankulos and Archipeligo National Park was complete, we had to head back south to Maputo to collect the Spark Lite for the final leg of our journey. Instead of taking to two chappas and stopping in Tofo as we did on the way up, we boarded one actual bus that would take us the whole way. Even the full size bus would include some special Mozambique-isms though.

1) There was no set time for departure. The hostel told us the bus leaves at 4:20 am. The actual bus operators claimed departures times from 4am to 5am when we grilled them. The bus actually left at 5am.

2) Two buses competed heavily for our business upon arrival. When we walked up we were swarmed by ticket waving bus crews attempting to secure as as passengers on two seemingly rival buses. The both claimed to earlier departure than the other. The crew on bus A proactively pried Bodds' baggage from him and began to pack it under the bus. This seemed to me to be too forward. Based on this move and Kulsum's attempt to obtain the unbiased information on departure times from a bystander, led us retrieve Bodd's baggage and board bus B. Both buses left at 5am.

3) We stopped frequently to drop off and pick up people and goods. While the stops were not as frequent as a chappas, the full size buses still stopped every 30 mins or so--something more of a regional transport than a express one. Futhermore, we stopped at small towns and roadside stands full of people hocking fresh food and drinks. These stops slowly filled up the aisle of the bus with anything from charcoal to coconuts.

All said and done the full size bus was much more comfortable than the chappas (Bodds does not entirely agree with this). The irrefutable benefit was the 5 or so hours that we shaved off both through faster average speed and not stopping back in Tofo.