Swaziland

After the chaotic disorder of Mozambique, Swaziland provided a welcome respite. Dare I say it felt…civilized?

We decided to cross at the Goba border post, located high in the mountains. Rumour had it this outpost was quieter than the others and after traversing Maputo for a second time we were in no mood for further chaos. No matter that Goba wasn’t really signposted, by this time our navigational instincts had kicked in. Sure, there was one wrong turn down into the loading docks of Maputo’s harbour...but we managed. The one rusty sign we did pass had nothing legible but the letter ‘G’ – and since Goba happens to start with a G, we went for it.

Past Maputo the route wound ever higher into the mountains. The pot holes grew worse while the surroundings transitioned from steamy marshlands into greener, lusher vegetation. Just when we thought it impossible that a border post could be located so in the middle of nowhere, Goba appeared. An armed soldier approached the car, yelling in Portuguese. We looked at him blankly. “Passports!” he demanded. We obliged. He returned the South African one right away, but seized mine and demanded we pull over. A Canadian passport is a thing of fascination at any African border, though I’m not sure if this owes to rarity or suspicion. Our hearts fell after successfully having avoided armed soldiers and police for the entire nine hour drive. I hissed at Hannes for driving away while this man still had my passport. But when we looked over, he was bent over laughing. Haha.ha..ha…..ha…African soldier humour. What better way to alleviate boredom than joke terrorizing already traumatized tourists?

Crossing the border we were transported into another world. Velvety green mountains swelled around us and sugar cane plantations stretched for as far as the eye could see. Even the omnipresent potholes were reduced in severity and number. It was down right pastoral – what a welcome sight. The kingdom of Swaziland is tiny, like a little jewel. Size wise it’s somewhere along the lines of 80 by 120 km. It is also one of the last political kingdoms in the world, with King Mswati often accused of various forms of mismanagement. It also has a reputation as one of the more traditional African countries, as in custom still pervades much of daily life. I’m not sure I was entirely left with this perception, except when it comes to dress. Despite being mid summer I saw a man on the street in a full length leopard fur cloak, and also ate breakfast beside a man in traditional loin cloth and sash, smartly accessorized with Teva sandals and furiously texting on his mobile throughout. Yes, in the rural areas housing is generally thatched rondavels – but you see this some variation of this almost everywhere in Africa. In general it was actually far cleaner than the countries I have seen so far – substantially less garbage and broken glass by the sides of the roads and less potholes. Also very few corrugated shacks – for the most part houses are either modern and clean or quaint British colonial throwbacks with ivy covered walls. In fact, you still very much feel the Britishness – Swaziland’s general effect is genteel meets the romanticized aspects of African life. Even more surprising was the quality of the cars on the road. Every second car was a new BMW or Mercedes – this does not feel like a country on the brink of financial ruin, nor a regressive one. I think perhaps people mistake Swazi pride in heritage for a backward way of life.

The people are proud yet warm and friendly, and amazingly we encountered no beggars. Even the threat of crime feels greatly diminished. Often during conversations with locals, emphasis was placed on their ‘niceness’ in comparison to their South African counterparts. The standard of living comes across as quite high, which is what makes it all the more surprising that this is statistically the most HIV ridden country in the world. This fact is really quite difficult to reconcile with what one sees.

 While grateful to see less potholes, driving in Swaziland presents a new set of challenges. First, Swazis have a reputation as some of the worst drivers in the world. Traffic accidents are the number one cause of death and the legal blood alcohol limit is twice that of other countries. From warnings, it sounded like it’s every man for himself on the roads, an African wild west. Yet besides omnipresent traffic police who, shockingly, were just doing their job and monitoring traffic (how refreshing!) there were speed bumps installed everywhere, even on busy streets and on the highway. And it wasn’t just one at a time. In an 80-km per hour stretch, you will suddenly come across a series of four speed bumps placed just metres apart. The entire country is absolutely covered in speed bumps. I guess that’s one way to fix the driving problem.

We based ourselves in the Ezulwini Valley, known in these parts as ‘heaven’s valley’. It was indeed very pretty and perfectly situated between the two main cities, Manzini and Mbabane. Still filthy following Mozambique’s plumbing mishaps, Hannes demanded that we spend the first night in a luxury hotel. At first I was opposed. After all, who comes to such a place to shack up in a casino? But…it was the right choice. Soap, a hot shower, a quality restaurant, a stunning swimming pool – it made for a nice respite following five days of filth. I started to feel human again. For our second night we shacked up in a lodge on the side of a mountain known as ‘Sheba’s Breast’ which played a prominent role in the famous novel- which I now feel obliged to read – King Solomon’s Mines. Waking up to the twittering birds and cool green woods was a very nice experience.

Swaziland’s size means everything is within easy distance, making it ideal to explore – which is exactly what we did. Despite its smallness, there are at least five massive national park/game reserves, of which we visited two. The most commonly spotted wildlife was monkeys with bright blue balls. What an unfortunate looking species. We also visited a cultural village that featured traditional life and dance demonstrations. It seems most aspects are explored through song and dance. For instance, looking for a wife? Then show off your high kicks and whistling steeze. Time to go hunting? There’s a song and dance for that as well. And so it continues. In Ezulwini we also decided to check out local hot springs known as the ‘Cuddle Puddle’.Who doesn’t enjoy a good soak in a natural hot spring? Beside the public pool lies a special, mens’ only area from which loud giggling and high pitched girlish shrieks emanated. Almost as if the bathers were engaging in pillow fight type hijinks. A few tribally clad men wandered in while we waited to pay the tourist only cover charge. Hannes threatened to abandon me for the testosterone pool, and it really did sound like fun was being had in that general direction. I just smiled sweetly because thanks to Fabian, I had some veeery interesting inside intel on what exactly happens in the mens’ area: enemas, administered with gas cans as part of ceremonial ritual cleansing ceremonies. My first thought, was ‘gross’ (obviously). But as I paddled around the spring, I began to wonder about the direction of the water flow – what if it didn’t enter the public pool first? The alternative was too nasty to even consider.

Other activities included a badly timed visit to the former royal hunting grounds at Hlane. To cope with my continued whale shark disappointment, I decided an on foot safari that included walking with rhinos would cheer me up. Except that we arrived half an hour after the guide decided to leave for the day. That was a waste of a 140 km drive. More successful were visits to various arts and crafts centres. Swazis live and breathe the arts, and I was blown away by what we saw. First, there is a famous candle factory where they make the most amazing, elaborate pieces. Needless to say, I bought some. They are also famous for their fabric weaving and batiks. Again, gorgeous. And the woven baskets and vases, and wooden carvings…sigh. This is not the tacky tourist kitsch you so often see in Africa. You could make a killing opening a home wares store in London or New York selling these items.

While there are a number of royal compounds and burial sites throughout the country, these are not open to the public. Disappointing, because I was admittedly curious about the king’s digs. Swaziland is also known as one of the adventures capitals of southern Africa. White water rafting is popular, as is caving and extreme hiking, ie slogging up steep granite rock faces. Speaking of which, it is home to the world’s second biggest rock after Uluru in Australia: Sibebe. There’s also some very pretty waterfalls and forests. It feels just wild enough to be ‘in nature’ without being intimidating. The two main cities, Mbabane and Manzini are, at least by African standards, quite clean and organized. Put simply, driving through them does not inspire terror.

All in all, we loved Swaziland. It is a common trip for South Africans, driving up through Mozambique and returning through Swaziland. After the chaos of our first destination, Swaziland felt very soothing. Not to sound new age, but it is one of those places that is good for the soul. It is so pretty, so friendly, so relaxed. Everything is good value here, which is not something you can often say about travelling in Africa. It may house some of the world’s poorest countries, but I promise you, it is one of the most expensive places to travel especially if you desire certain levels of comfort. I really hope to make it back to Swaziland again – I was utterly charmed by this little place.