Day 3-061
Day Totals: 10 hrs, 5 kms

So next morning we're off . Turns out the shopkeepr is not a Boer, but rather Portuguese who moved here from Madeira years ago. He used to own a vineyard but sold it and now runs a shop and a pizzeria.

And once again, just minutes into our conversation, he feels the need to tell me how lazy the "other" people are... and how much better things used to be.

"The police are corrupt now. I can't get a liquor license because I don't pay them bribe." He goes on to tell me how he supports a local kids football team and is involved in the community.

"So the folks that work for you, where are they from?"

"They're all from Malawi and Zimbabwe. I don't hire South Africans any more"

I suddenly realize. If more and more people take on this same attitude. There's going to be a lot more trouble down the road.

We reach the bus, and he refuses any sort of payment for the 45 km trip he's done for me . I feel grateful--but at the same time troubled by the things he's told me...

On the bus, it seems I'm back on track again. I'm heading to the touristy "Garden Route", with a row of backpacker friendly beach towns. It should be smooth sailing from now on, right?

Not quite. When we reach a gas station outside of Mossell Bay, I get off and ask about the schedule for buses to the next town"

"It's a Sunday. There are no more buses... or minibuses today to the next town"

Okay... so I guess I'm staying here. I head to the mall across the street where there's a minibus going towards town. But it doesn't go to the town center where the hotels are, instead it heads up towards the townships dropping me off at a small shopping mall. No taxi. And it does not look safe at all to be wandering the streets carrying a backpack.

What now? I'd better think fast . This shopping mall is going to close soon, then I'll really be screwed. I find internet connection, and it turns out there's a hotel not far from here.... But how do I get there? There are no taxis!

Finally walking nervously over to a traffic circle I find a minibus that says he'll drive me past it... and I climb aboard. The minibus then plunges straight into the township.

Yep, it looks I'm going to be spending the night in a South African township (apartheid era neighborhood reserved for blacks)...

I do enjoy the ride, actually. To see how people live there lives, from the safety of a minibus. A lot of well dressed people heading out from church. I see a lot of old shipping containers that have been converted into little shops and barbershops. I see entrepreneurs who see business opportunities in this poverty stricken area. Most people look happy and jovial. No sign of any crime going on--at least not now .

And right smack in the middle of this is a walled compound of Hotel Portao Diaz. Not sure why it is here--perhaps it was an upscale hotel for non-whites who could afford it back in the day?

At first I am relieved to be safe and have a place to leave my stuff. But then it hits me: what am I going to do for the rest of the day? I'm told that I can catch a minibus to downtown, but I may not be able to catch one back. I gaze out over wall. One this side is a swimming pool, on the other a slum. Here I am, so close to being able to experience the "other" South Africa, and yet... so far away.

Finally I decide: I'm going outside. I leave all my valuables except a little cash, and go out.

I make it one block... then two.... a couple guys ask me for 1 rand for a cigarette. I'm happy to give it. I don't consider it begging but rather a "transit tax" .

Then after 3 blocks a tough looking fellow comes up to me. "What are you doing here? This area is very rough. You really shouldn't be here. If you want I can show you around..." I politely decline... and take it as a signal. I've pushed my luck far enough. My tour of the township has come to an end.

I spent the rest of the afternoon imprisoned in the hotel. I'm finally accepting it: South Africa is simply not suitable for my style of travel. If I had a rental car it would be different. But trying to rely on walking and public transportation to get from place to place simply isn't working out.

The Arrival of Bartolomeu Dias

Next morning I finally regain my freedom and catch a minibus to the town center. I've decided to forget about exploring the Garden Route. I feel like these last couple of days have been pretty much wasted, and I'm running out of time to explore Lesotho and Swaziland .

But I will at least explore downtown Mossel Bay.

The big attraction is the grounds dedicated to the first European to arrive here: Bartolomeu Dias. He was the one who opened the way for sea commerce between Europe and India--a milestone in the Age of Discovery

Here you can still find the "Post Office Tree" where messages were left in a shoe for any future sailing expedition. Also you can climb a scrubby hillside and gaze out to the sea, imagining how the first encounter between natives and Portuguese must have been.

One of the museum display describes the encounter. At first there was fear and uncertainty. At one point the Portuguese fired into the air "we did not want to hurt anyone"... finally trust was built so they could trade goods.

It seems there was a real sense of respect for the natives in these early encounters. Unfortunately that sense of respect was not maintained in future encounters.

These were some courageous explorers I'd have to say. I didn't even have the balls to walk more than 3 blocks in the township....