Islamango means miracle in Zulu, and its a very appropriate name for the wetlands park I visited this weekend. But let me start at the beginning of my adventure, in a rental car with two other friendly interns also determined to see the best of South Africa during their time here. We headed along the coast, North of Durban for about three hours before we reached
Dave's Backpackers' hostel, a backpackers hostel on the edge of
Hluhluwe Game Reserve.
A blind dalmatian greeted us with a half hearted bark, and the only creature at reception was a tiny tabby cat curled up under the light. However, a beaded curtain swung back, revealing the kitchen where boleworst (South African susage) was sizzling, giving off a slightly sour but still tempting smell, and Dave emerged.
Dave is a rugged Afrikaner with the name of his hostel tattooed on his chest. When I mentioned he therefore must be very committed to his business, he broke into a soliloquy on how the hostel was like his wife.... she was good to him if he was good to her, and they only fought when money was tight.
Soon we were ushered into our dorm room. The door was off its bottom hinges, and there was no hot water, but the beds were comfy and the place was clean.We chowed down on the boleworst Dave had been cooking and threw back a beer, before heading to bed, planning an early rise to get to the game park.
The morning light revealed that Dave's place really was a gem in the rough. The rolling hills of acia trees and cacti sparkled in the early morning sun. We helped ourselves to coffee and toast and then piled back into our rental car and headed for the game park.
Now I've been on numerous safaris, but I never get tired to gazing at giraffe picking the leaves off an acia tree, or watching the slow way elephants lumbar through the forest, simply crushing or breaking anything in their way. We saw buffalo and zebras, buck and rhinos. Before we knew it, the sun was setting and we headed back to Dave's hostel.
The hostel had the feeling of a friendly neighbourhood and the various guests (including a Dutch scuba diver, a Swiss actor, two middle aged ladies from South Africa and Australia, an eccentric Swede, and British business man) were happy to chat, swap stories and advise on future travel plans. I soon found myself in good company at the campfire, under the African stars, with a glass of wine in my hand - and perfectly content.
The next day things only got better. The town of
St. Lucia is a picturesque beach town, with outdoor patios and palm trees. The Islamango estuary that makes up the park is an UNESCO world hertitage site and boast some of the most varied species of birds and plant life, as well as
elephants, leopards, Buffalo, hippos and crocs. We went on a fabulous boat tour, where we saw hippos and crocs close up, but the highlight of the day was when we headed down to the estuary beach. After playing in the Indian Ocean, we sat down on the boardwalk from where we could see - all in one view - the sun setting, the moon rising, the ocean waves, the mirrored surface of the estuary, a few crocodiles, and a pod of hippos playing in the water.
It was a miraculous weekend!
– who are almost exclusively poor women. Why? Because they are the ones that are there, who care, who are committed to helping their loved ones and fellow community members. In many cases there is no one else willing to help. The support they receive from government is minimal. The need is exponential.
