Leaving the Kalahari (Pics included)

June 23, Day 12:

 

We woke up early to get breakfast before heading out for Kuruman, which was roughly 80k down the road. We wanted to make sure to get there relatively early because we figured Kuruman may have internet facilities, of which we were in great need.  After bidding farewell to our hosts for the night, who were extremely kind to us, we hit the road. We made good time and were feeling optimistic about an early arrival in Kuruman, despite the face that we had been warned about the "Kuruman Hills" which surrounded our destination.  We were preparing for a potentially difficult finale.

 

However, after climbing a small hill before Kuruman, prepared to see some sort of mountain on the horizon, we realized that in fact we were at the summit of the 50m Kuruman Hills.  We celebrated our good fortune by taking a short break. I decided to take a hike to the top of the hill to get some nice footage of the Kalahari landscape as it was the very northern border and we would not be seeing it again, which was something I could deal with.

 

We descended the hill and glided into Kuruman. We noticed an internet cafe as we entered, but we shortly learned that it was out of business. We checked some guesthouses to find a room, but everything was full. We were a bit annoyed at this point, until we met a man name Rodges and his female companion Eunice.

 

Rodges was a former commando in the SA Army and had been stationed in Cape Town, but one could immediately see from his extremely kind and cheerful demeanor that this was probably not the most fitting job for him, which explained why he had quit and returned to his home in Kuruman to look for work. In South Africa the unemployment rate is at nearly 25%.  Sadly Rodges, a well-educated man, was victim to this unfortunate statistic.

 

Nevertheless, Rodges offered to assist us in our quest to find food and lodging for the night and took a great interest in us. He jumped in his car and told us to follow him on our bicycles to a guest house. Once we got closer, however, Rodges decided it looked like fun to ride the bicycle so we offered to switch and he let me drive while he rode my bike. I told him this was a good idea, except the only problem was that I did not know how to drive a stickshift. Undetterred, Rodges just told me to hop in and gave me a crash course on driving manual,  which I am proud to say I passed.

 

So I drove his car with Eunice in the passenger seat while he rode my bicycle, and we arrived at Cunningham Cottage, a beautiful guesthouse with  friendly and sweet owners. They welcomed us warmly and gave us a room to put our things while we continued chatting to Rodges and Eunice.

 

It turned out that Rodges and Eunice both spoke Setswana (the language in Bostwana) and that we were bordering on the region of SA that was predominantly Setswana speaking. I had been trying to teach myself Tswana online, but it had been very difficult, so I took this opportunity to get a private tutor. Rodges and Eunice sat with me for at least an hour teaching me all the basics of the grammar structure that I desparately needed as a background. It was extremely helpful and I took careful notes. We bid farewell to Rodges and Eunice after spending several hours with them and thanked them profusely for their help.

 

We then got some dinner and headed to bed for the night.  The next day was going to be a bit more complicated as we were unsure of where we would be sleeping.

 

 June 24, Day 13:

 

We woke up very well rested and made our way down to the kitchen for breakfast with our hosts. They had prepared us a warm meal with eggs, bacon, sausage, tea, cereal, fresh juice, etc. We ate up in order to get energy for the day and then asked for the bill for the food and lodging. The owners had decided that they believed in our cause and therefore wanted to give us the night for free as a donation. This was extremely generous of them and we were very thankful. They even went on to pack us lunches for the day.  They sent us on our way, warm and rested with all the food we could fit in our stomaches.

 

We were heading to Vryburg, which was roughly 150k away, so we needed to find a place to sleep somewhere in between to avoid riding on the highway at night time, which is quite dangerous on these roads. We had heard there was a small settlement called Lykso halfway to Vryburg, so we hoped we could find a place to stay there.

 

Bicycling conditions were good and we made great time to our first break stop (we try to take short breaks every 10 miles in order to stay fresh for the entire day). Our stop was at an informal settlement built of stone houses and tin shacks. Upon stopping the settlement appeared abandoned at first until a small girl popped her head out inquisitively from the edge of her shack. We waved to her and she darted back inside her home, probably very confused to see two white American bicyclists at her doorstep.

 

However, after resting for a bit, more and more people began to emerge, and we tested our Tswana skills by greeting them in their native language. Immediately their concerned looks changed to smiles and they approached us excitedly.  They had most likely never met a white person that had even taken enough interest in their culture to learn even the basics of their language.

 

We began talking to several of them and they cheerfully helped me practice my Tswana while teaching me new aspects of the language. It was a wonderful experience, and from then on we knew the importance of using Tswana rather than English. Even if our language skills were very limited, the effort was very much appreciated by the people.

 

We carried on down the road and had a great time greeting the locals in Tswana as we passed, and everytime they got a huge kick out of it, smiling and laughing. We continued down the road until it got time for lunch and we decided to take a break. It seemed like an out of the way area and we ate our sandwiches that our hosts had packed us while charging our camera with our solar panel, which was pretty cool.  Then, right as we were getting ready to go, a group of Tswana teenagers rode past us on mules and a small horse drawn wagon. We greeted them and they stopped to investigate what we were doing there.

 

We started chatting in a mix of Tswana and English and immediately hit it off. They offered to let me try out the wagon, which I did so in a hurry. I jumped on and grabbed the reigns, trying to get the horses to go. The kids all laughed at me as they realized I had clearly never used a horse for transportation in my life, so one of the drivers hopped on with me and took me for a spin. It was a lot of fun, but we both had to head on our way so he said goodbye and we continued down the rest of the road until we got to Lykso.

 

Lykso was even smaller than we had imagined, as it only consisted of one small shop, a school, and a church. However, we noticed a group of people in front of the church so we stopped to ask them if there may be a place for us to stay. We were in luck, as it turned out the man we approached initially was the pastor, and he graciously offered us his home for the night. We put our bikes in his garage and he and his wife treated us to a terriffic dinner of locally made sausages and mashed potatoes. They then gave us warm baths and a warm bed for the night. They were extremely kind to us, and we went to sleep that night feeling very lucky once again. It had been a great day for us, as the hospitality of the local African people of all creeds and color had been incredible.  We felt like our mission was going very well. The next day we would head to Vryburg.