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My British Airways flight touched down at Johannesburg International Airport, where a driver was waiting to deliver my friends 4x4, which she kindly let me have use of whilst she was in Europe.

An African Farm

Cruises, Tours, Sightseeing ...
Practiced journeyerPracticed journeyer Cindy Dale
2006-04-02 22:10:51
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I feared I would not emerge if I dropped into one. Some of them were filled in, which lead me to mistakenly believe that the next set may be filled in also.

I became aware of the abrupt change in scenery. The earlier large scale intensive agriculture of South Africa ceased and was instead replaced by an undulating barren landscape. The long dusty road was littered with burnt out tanks. I had an uneasy, almost eerie feeling at first as I passed the first of many parched villages of circular mud huts, devoid of any signs of life, crops, cattle, or even bird life.

I was told by a border guard that there were numerous police blocks along the route I was taking. My first and only ‘road block’ was that of a group of locals who had filled in a big pot hole then placed boulders over the top. Clearly, the idea was to force me to stop so they could remove a couple of boulders whilst I was digging into my wallet. Not me – I was stopping for anyone. The boulders were quite small so I drove over them and waved to the chaps as they hurled abuse at me. The potholes continued but fortunately I caught up with a truck weaving through them so I tailgated him for an hour. It was great, dashing through and missing all the holes.

A long, horrific civil war had scarred Mozambique and left a million land mines scattered around the countryside. The border post official has cautioned me not to leave my car, as there were still many unsigned minefields which would only be discovered when entered.

That evening I stopped off in a town called Manicha. I sat in the shaded bar area in stewing humidity and listened to the torturous chorus of mosquitoes. Through the trees I could see the town’s barber shop across the road, offering the unusual option of ‘Bin Laden style’ haircuts.

The following morning I left early. I bartered a blanket and several t-shirts in exchange for two avocado pears from a street child sitting next to my ...

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An African Farm An African Farm
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