night in Mohale’s Hoek, I hitched up to Maseru, part of the way with a
very eloquent and stylish guy going to the university’s graduation,
and then without even trying, another guy asked me if I needed a ride
and took me all the way into the city. I stopped in the mall the print
some photos that I had been promising for so long to my neighbors,
host family, and Form C students.
Then I walked to the taxi rank where I met up with my friend who I’d
be traveling north with, and we got a 4+1 taxi to her designated
hitching spot. This girl is even more of a hitchhiker than I am, and
she is an expert at knowing where the best places are to get a lift.
We got all the way to the northern town of Butha Buthe, where we found
some other volunteers at the VRC there, then spent the night with a
PCV who lives relatively close to town. It turns out that I had been
at this same house two years earlier while doing my HVV (host
volunteer visit), but I was visiting the person who had previously
occupied the same site, so I thought it was funny that I was going
back there after so long.
The next day, the 4 of us going east to Mokhotlong district went to
the road to start waiting for a hitch. We made two groups of two
people, since it was easier to find rides like that. The other two
found a ride pretty quickly, but my hitching buddy Jen and I waited
for a long time for a ride, then ended up getting two more to complete
the journey to the next camp town. We were dropped off in the town of
Mokhotlong at the hotel where we got the obligatory hotel pizza, then
wandered around town to find herd boy hats, since it was significantly
colder up here in Mokhotlong, and would only get colder as we went up
to Sani Pass, the highest part of Lesotho. I had brought my herd boy
hat with me, but in the chaos of trying to take my big box down the
hill from my house to the road, I think it fell out of my bag
somewhere. We just mentioned to some random person that we wanted to
buy hats, and soon enough three different people were running around
trying to find some. Ask and you shall receive. We bargained them
down, as per usual, but what was funny is that the guy wouldn’t agree
to R40 each, but then I asked, “How about R80 for 2 hats?” “Ok,” he
agreed. That night, we stayed at a guesthouse which was a part of an
organization that an RPCV worked at, and we hung out with the two
resident RPCVs there.
Early the next morning, we got to the rank and paid an outrageous
R110 to go to Sani Pass. We realized that it must have been for the
entire trip up to Sani and then down the other side into the nearest
South African town, but we were just getting out at Sani, and I guess
there was no halfway rate. We got out and immediately gasped at the
cold. Altitude will do that.
Just joking
We all slogged to the very overpriced
(R250/night) and underwarm (they had gas heaters but were going to
make us buy entire gas tanks to use with them) backpackers section of
the Sani Pass lodge. I wrapped myself up in my new herdboy hat and
used my sleeping bag as a blanket and went to the lodge to warm up by
the fire with some gluwein (hot mulled wine). Sani Lodge claims itself
as the highest “pub” in Africa, which is kind of a cheeky superlative,
because there is actually a bar and restaurant which is higher at
Afriski.
(R250/night) and underwarm (they had gas heaters but were going to
make us buy entire gas tanks to use with them) backpackers section of
the Sani Pass lodge. I wrapped myself up in my new herdboy hat and
used my sleeping bag as a blanket and went to the lodge to warm up by
the fire with some gluwein (hot mulled wine). Sani Lodge claims itself
as the highest “pub” in Africa, which is kind of a cheeky superlative,
because there is actually a bar and restaurant which is higher at
Afriski.
In the lodge, we met a bunch of South Africa PCVs, who told
us ho impossible it was to really integrate because of South Africa’s
history of apartheid and how there would always be an obvious class
barrier. Wow, that sucks. I feel like in Lesotho we are able to much
better integrate into our communities.
That afternoon another girl and I wandered around on the cliffs, just
marveling at the crazy view down down down into South Africa. It was a
good thing we went when we did, because as we were coming back, the
fog poured in. Later, it started snowing (reminder: this is the
beginning of summer), and people were afraid that we were going to
freeze in our crappy hostel, but there was a room with a fireplace
that we all huddled in until we went to bed, and we made warm grilled
cheese and tomato soup to warm us up for dinner.
us ho impossible it was to really integrate because of South Africa’s
history of apartheid and how there would always be an obvious class
barrier. Wow, that sucks. I feel like in Lesotho we are able to much
better integrate into our communities.
That afternoon another girl and I wandered around on the cliffs, just
marveling at the crazy view down down down into South Africa. It was a
good thing we went when we did, because as we were coming back, the
fog poured in. Later, it started snowing (reminder: this is the
beginning of summer), and people were afraid that we were going to
freeze in our crappy hostel, but there was a room with a fireplace
that we all huddled in until we went to bed, and we made warm grilled
cheese and tomato soup to warm us up for dinner.
We woke up to lots of snow the next morning, and after it melted a
bit, a few of us decided to walk down the super steep pass and back,
just for fun and in the hopes of seeing baboons at the bottom. We did
see some deer and rock rabbits (I was recently informed that they are
actually called hyraxes) though. What’s funny is that you can stamp
out of Lesotho, and then it’s several kilometers of no man’s land down
the pass until you can stamp in to South Africa. On the way up, the
dozen or so very steep hairpin turns were really tiring, but we
finally made it back, just before dark.
At the lodge again, there was
a group of deaf South African guys who came into the bar, signing to
each other and video calling people. What’s funny is that they were
soon getting pretty drunk and turned into your typical group of drunk,
rowdy men, except for the fact that they were completely silent. Sure,
there was the occasional noise, like when one guy yelped when another
guy shoved snow down his pants, but for the most part it was quiet.
The next day was much warmer, and three of us decided to get a guide
to do the 9ish hour hike up to Thabana Ntlenyana, the highest point in
Lesotho and Southern Africa. The peak itself is only about 600 meters
higher than the lodge, and compared to the surrounding highland base,
it isn’t that high of a mountain, and it’s not obvious that it’s the
highest point. Thaba means mountain, and thabana means little
mountain. Ntle means beautiful, and ntlenyaya I guess means a little
beautiful. So this was the beautiful little mountain in spite of it
being the highest point. We made it to the summit and only stayed for
a few minutes because it was so cold up there, then trudged back,
ending up with very sore (and in my case with holey hobo shoes on,
very dirty) feet, but happy that we had crossed off this obligatory
Lesotho bucket list item.
a group of deaf South African guys who came into the bar, signing to
each other and video calling people. What’s funny is that they were
soon getting pretty drunk and turned into your typical group of drunk,
rowdy men, except for the fact that they were completely silent. Sure,
there was the occasional noise, like when one guy yelped when another
guy shoved snow down his pants, but for the most part it was quiet.
The next day was much warmer, and three of us decided to get a guide
to do the 9ish hour hike up to Thabana Ntlenyana, the highest point in
Lesotho and Southern Africa. The peak itself is only about 600 meters
higher than the lodge, and compared to the surrounding highland base,
it isn’t that high of a mountain, and it’s not obvious that it’s the
highest point. Thaba means mountain, and thabana means little
mountain. Ntle means beautiful, and ntlenyaya I guess means a little
beautiful. So this was the beautiful little mountain in spite of it
being the highest point. We made it to the summit and only stayed for
a few minutes because it was so cold up there, then trudged back,
ending up with very sore (and in my case with holey hobo shoes on,
very dirty) feet, but happy that we had crossed off this obligatory
Lesotho bucket list item.
Then, the crappy hostel didn’t even have its hot water working in the showers, so I found a bucket, filled it with
boiled water, and took a bath like I usually do at home. Even though I was paying a lot for this dumb backpackers. Yeah.
Our last day, we arranged for a 4+1 to take us back to town for R60
each instead of R110, which was much better, even though we had to
cram four people in the back seat. After we dropped one person off at
an earlier junction to go back to his district, the rest of us went
back to Mokhotlong town to make the trek back to our respective sites.
We were on the road waiting for a hitch, but this taxi driver was
being a real pain, telling us to get in over and over even though I
refused every time. The driver said that they would beat anyone who
tried to give us a lift. Whatever, loser taxi. We eventually found a
ride back to Butha Buthe with a guy on his way to Durban, but even
though Sani is closer and will take him nearer to Durban, he was
afraid of going down the steep and winding pass. Fair enough; it was
scary enough walking it.
In Butha Butha, we stopped off at the famous KFC, where we met an
American pilot guy who flies medicine and supplies out to places
without roads. He said that there’s a bunch of food and supplies just
in storage in the country, ready to go out, but it’s just sitting
there because if the government took it out, people would just fight
over it. So there you go. Your aid dollars at work, people. Luckily,
one girl’s South African friend who was visiting her was able to drive
up and pick us up from that town and bring us all the way to Maseru.
Isn’t it great when things work out like that? From that spot, Jen and
I got a hitch south to her house and crashed from exhaustion. Then it
was a couple days in Mohale’s Hoek full of internet travel research,
working out, showers, and playing board games at the hotel bar.
When I got back to my village, I didn’t take the usual steep hill up
to my house, because I was all moved out of there. Instead, I walked
down a different road to the orphanage, where I would be staying for
the next couple of weeks or so.
boiled water, and took a bath like I usually do at home. Even though I was paying a lot for this dumb backpackers. Yeah.
Our last day, we arranged for a 4+1 to take us back to town for R60
each instead of R110, which was much better, even though we had to
cram four people in the back seat. After we dropped one person off at
an earlier junction to go back to his district, the rest of us went
back to Mokhotlong town to make the trek back to our respective sites.
We were on the road waiting for a hitch, but this taxi driver was
being a real pain, telling us to get in over and over even though I
refused every time. The driver said that they would beat anyone who
tried to give us a lift. Whatever, loser taxi. We eventually found a
ride back to Butha Buthe with a guy on his way to Durban, but even
though Sani is closer and will take him nearer to Durban, he was
afraid of going down the steep and winding pass. Fair enough; it was
scary enough walking it.
In Butha Butha, we stopped off at the famous KFC, where we met an
American pilot guy who flies medicine and supplies out to places
without roads. He said that there’s a bunch of food and supplies just
in storage in the country, ready to go out, but it’s just sitting
there because if the government took it out, people would just fight
over it. So there you go. Your aid dollars at work, people. Luckily,
one girl’s South African friend who was visiting her was able to drive
up and pick us up from that town and bring us all the way to Maseru.
Isn’t it great when things work out like that? From that spot, Jen and
I got a hitch south to her house and crashed from exhaustion. Then it
was a couple days in Mohale’s Hoek full of internet travel research,
working out, showers, and playing board games at the hotel bar.
When I got back to my village, I didn’t take the usual steep hill up
to my house, because I was all moved out of there. Instead, I walked
down a different road to the orphanage, where I would be staying for
the next couple of weeks or so.
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