Dateline: Friday, 30th September 1977
Route: Johannesburg and Environs
I am starting here: 1976, March 29th. Hillbrow, Johannesburg, South Africa
Homeless Traveller
March 29th, 1976: Johannesburg post office, it's taken me about 6 weeks to get here from Nairobi.
I've just read my months worth of mail.
After paying for the hotel we are in, I have about US$10 to my name.
Great news indeed. Jay's letter invited me to stay at her place, immediately actually, and! Burroughs wanted me to come in for an interview, also immediately.
Jay was the gorgeous Canadian on my overland trip from UK,
Although I never got anywhere close to being an obnoxious suitor, (Mollie soon put that one to rest), she (Jay), always made it clear that she wasn't interested in any guy. So, I guess being a nice guy paid off, this time anyway.
I found out later her fiance, a Canadian Olympic skier had been killed in a skiing accident recently, and this was a way to cast off her anguish. Back then, I was still a product of English women's rejection, (for me, they were generally an obnoxious lot except for the ones I had as biblically inspired girlfriends), it was only after leaving UK, that ladies decided to jump into my bed without an invite.
I had been on the road, in a truck, in a tent, in total ex-pat luxury at Redmond and Shirley's in Nairobi and various scummy hotels, lodgings and courtesy of generous folk I have met on the road, up market and down market environments for about 6 months. Hampstead UK to Orangeville Transvaal
I've seen far too many beautiful sunsets, camped deep in the bush of several African countries with only veg stew and the rain for company.
I have enjoyed, revelled and then despaired of endless sex and have likewise enjoyed not having to perform for many months. I sense this feeling is finally dissipating.
I am almost broke. God knows how I would have lived without this job offer, or the place on someones floor either
I head over with my backpack, meet the residents, and move in.
Everyone here is a traveller: a similar group of white foreigners all working in SA making relatively lots of cash before moving onto the next trek. Lets see, Junior, aka Richard, US, Tom (Annie's boyfriend) Czech, Rowan, Australian, Tamara, Aussie, Carol, US (?I just remember her sounding whiny?), Jay, from the overland trip, Canadian, "George", NZ, Annie, Aussie, Chris a Brit, Chips, NZ, Dave, Brit, Jill, also Brit.
These are the names I remember, there was a fair amount of travellers, exactly like myself who dropped in, slept on the floor or maybe shared a bed with another resident and moved on around South Africa. Maybe not all there at the same time, but probably over a period of say 6 months. There is a servants room at the back, as everyone white here in South Africa employs at least one servant. We have none apparently
Seems like Annie, Richard and Jill met in the Joburg Youth Hostel, all got jobs and Richard leased the house out in the boonies.
The atmosphere is a bit sullen, as I soon learn, Richard and Jill apparently became an item and have just split up, so Jill is in one bedroom alone with the door permanently closed, never to be seen (till later) and I think Richard was flooring it till she found a place to move to. All in all, it made for a bit of a weird set up for a while
Almost immediately, I borrow Ricky's suit (far too big) and shoes (sound familiar?) for my interview at Burroughs in Joburg's business district.
I am starting here: 1976, March 29th. Hillbrow, Johannesburg, South Africa
Homeless Traveller
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| Junior, as he became, aka Richard, and several of the residents, April 1976 |
March 29th, 1976: Johannesburg post office, it's taken me about 6 weeks to get here from Nairobi.
I've just read my months worth of mail.
After paying for the hotel we are in, I have about US$10 to my name.
Great news indeed. Jay's letter invited me to stay at her place, immediately actually, and! Burroughs wanted me to come in for an interview, also immediately.
Jay was the gorgeous Canadian on my overland trip from UK,
Although I never got anywhere close to being an obnoxious suitor, (Mollie soon put that one to rest), she (Jay), always made it clear that she wasn't interested in any guy. So, I guess being a nice guy paid off, this time anyway.
I found out later her fiance, a Canadian Olympic skier had been killed in a skiing accident recently, and this was a way to cast off her anguish. Back then, I was still a product of English women's rejection, (for me, they were generally an obnoxious lot except for the ones I had as biblically inspired girlfriends), it was only after leaving UK, that ladies decided to jump into my bed without an invite.
I had been on the road, in a truck, in a tent, in total ex-pat luxury at Redmond and Shirley's in Nairobi and various scummy hotels, lodgings and courtesy of generous folk I have met on the road, up market and down market environments for about 6 months. Hampstead UK to Orangeville Transvaal
I've seen far too many beautiful sunsets, camped deep in the bush of several African countries with only veg stew and the rain for company.
I have enjoyed, revelled and then despaired of endless sex and have likewise enjoyed not having to perform for many months. I sense this feeling is finally dissipating.
I am almost broke. God knows how I would have lived without this job offer, or the place on someones floor either
I head over with my backpack, meet the residents, and move in.
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| Water Fight Meister in action, complete with Elephant hair bracelet |
These are the names I remember, there was a fair amount of travellers, exactly like myself who dropped in, slept on the floor or maybe shared a bed with another resident and moved on around South Africa. Maybe not all there at the same time, but probably over a period of say 6 months. There is a servants room at the back, as everyone white here in South Africa employs at least one servant. We have none apparently
Seems like Annie, Richard and Jill met in the Joburg Youth Hostel, all got jobs and Richard leased the house out in the boonies.
Almost immediately, I borrow Ricky's suit (far too big) and shoes (sound familiar?) for my interview at Burroughs in Joburg's business district.
It was the strangest interview I've ever had, Doug the manager gives me a test sheet to test my abilities and suitabilities.
There was a lot of South African lingo on the test, like "globes" for electric lights, but as he had also given me the answers sheet, surprisingly, I pass everything. Brilliantly of course
He tells me my salary, and without any references to my supposed past employments, I start on the following business day, Monday April 6th 1976.
I guess there's a shortage of electronics talent here. Excellent!
I start work almost as soon as I arrive at the office Monday morning.
I an driven to the Automated Clearing Bureau and introduced and left with the staff to get on with it
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| Clockwise: Petra, Rowan, Jay, Dave, "George", Cheryl, ? and Mike |
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| Another selection of travellers at 58 6th Street Dave, unknown, Mike, Junior, George, Tamara, Chris |
It seem that you need to be pretty high up the food chain to be working here.
However, It's a bunker. Totally devoid of light. Artificial lighting only.
First week, I'm climbing the wall. No sunlight from morning till I leave at 4:30. After a week, thankfully, I settle into the work mode and adjust.
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| Rowan, George, Tom and Junior. 6th Street Johannesburg. April. 1976 Rowan, later got so pissed, he ran around the road naked for a while. Luckily, I wrested him back into the house before the cops arrived |
The house is really loose, people like me, drifters, chancers, tradesfolk and professionals like Jay & I just drop in if they know someone and use the place
Jill has moved out by this, my second weekend, but somehow or other, a few weeks later, we go out together and we become a one night stand at her new apartment
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| Jills eventual beau, Jill, Annie and your correspondent |
Initially, in the house I sleep on the floor, and within a few days of moving in and starting work, the following weekend actually, I start creating mayhem in the place, water fights and party time. These guys need a bit more excitement. I'm delighted to be here, and I'm suddenly viable.
In the house, Tom, Annies boyfriend - they had travelled together through south east Asia and India, and Rowan, were trying to get work somewhere. Eventually, they try a hiring agency in Joburg. In the morning, they being chancers, (a generic term identifying them as people who will just say they can do something and hope they can - Chancing it), tell the hiring company that they are carpenters. Sorry they say, we are looking for plumbers. In the afternoon, they go back and tell them they are plumbers, and they are hired immediately for Phalaborwa. A copper mine. They leave that night. This is a bit round about, but hang in there, any reader still out there.
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| Me, in office gear, May 1976 |
About this time, I'm told that I am to be sent on training courses. Lots of them, in about 4 weeks. When I'm on a course, I get to stay in a hotel in Hillbrow, a swanky trendy part of Jo'burg. The Hillbrow Hotel.
It has a pool AND squash courts. Includes free food!
I don't even need to pay for the house now. Died and gone to heaven.
A week before I start the courses, and hence the hotel, all the residents are in the house and we play "Spin the Bottle". Whoever the bottle points to after it's spun, has to kiss (I mean real stuff!) the spinner.
Incredibly, whenever Annie spins it, it always points to me. Of course, we end up in bed that night, and for many, many nights from here on.
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| Lesotho sunset with the ever friendly and talented, kids May 1976 |
A three day weekend
Still there?
So, within a few weeks, Annie and I are heading, via hitch hiking, backpack and tent etc., all over the place. I've no idea how Annie gets the time off, but we go anyway
The first place we head to is Lesotho. We get a lift to nowhere and end up on the side of the road where we end up and camp.
In the morning, suitably hung over with lust, we head and arrive in Maseru, Lesotho.
Once we get there, it's cold, worse higher up the mountains.
Our intention was to cross Lesotho and back home in 3 days. We got to the Maseru border and crossed on the Saturday, about 2:00PM. A young lady (centre in blanket), picked us up in a backie and took us about 30Kms into darkest Lesotho, Roma, late Saturday evening. She was pretty certain a trip across Lesotho was impossible.
She took us to her mission and, it being almost dark, we accepted an invitation to stay the night before heading out again.
There is no power here, so after we eat (somehow, I forget now), we are just pointed to a kind of cell enclosure in the cloisters. We have our camping gear, so there is something under us, our sleeping bags and our space blankets over us. Big mistake as this is really cold up here and about 4:00AM, we wake up totally soaked with condensation.
Of course, Annie & I had only been going out for a few weeks, and we are happily exploring various possibilities of our relationship. So, throughout the night, many and various groans, giggles and grunts echo around the pitch black darkened cell.
What we didn't know was that this was some kind of cloister and this was the central vestibule. So there was a novice priest in one of the other cells which we had camped in front of
About 4:30AM, still totally pitch dark, he opened his door and had to step over us. Oooops. These were Catholics after all.
I can never forget the early morning mass around 7:30 that (Sunday) morning.
Inside the huge church, the Belgian priest (as in pix above), leads the mass in what I assumed was fluent Sotho. He had a terrible lisp. Even in Sotho it was easy to comprehend this. The service was incredible, even earth moving, yes, more than the night moves.
The church was very cold. From somewhere, wood smoke was percolating through the Nave and the sun (actually, it must have been later as the rays of the sun were about 40 degrees. The congregation was invited to sing, and the sunlight, the smoke and the soaring Sotho hymns just left me totally stunned. Not quite St Paul on the road to Damascus, more Jim on the way to God Help Me Pass (yes, really).
Another life enhancing, or life appreciating moment. As you can see, totally unforgettable, at least so far
Our drive lady takes us to God Help Me Pass on Sunday, late morning. We have to go another 200 Kms to get out of the other side of Lesotho. Only significant 4 x 4 can get through here, and they are not going all the way across. We retire, and head back the way we came, towards Joburg
The first of many weekend jaunts exploring the southern limits of the continent and the physical aspects of each other.
Somewhen in here, my innate penchant for philosophy and philosophical thought applies itself to Apartheid South Africa. I came to the conclusion that reality or at least your acceptance of societal norms, is based entirely on what you are prepared to accept as a basis for living. In this society, if you simply accept that a black mans brain is smaller than a white mans (a speech making topic - read on!), then the rationalisation in your head is not even something to feel embarrassed about. It is actually a fact that the blacks are not worthy of civilisation and the rest of the entire Apartheid state is totally logical and sound
Essentially, if you accept the basic thesis, you can sleep at night
A few weeks later, as I recall, we had a VW Combi that needed to be taken up to Phalaborwa (maybe a 4 hour drive), to be returned to the owner. Junior was, as ever in charge.
We left Joburg Friday June 18th during the Soweto riots.
I remember heading back from work to the house. The atmosphere at the bus station was incredibly electric. No one quite knew what was going to happen. I wouldn't have surprised me if the whole population of blacks at the station just rose up, there and then and murdered every white within reach. But everyone, white and black were really just people. All very aware, slightly frightened and very apprehensive, but no one wanting any violence, just wanting to get home safely to their family. It was palpable
Whatever violence was happening was all in the townships, not here, or anywhere on the road North East to Phalabora. Thankfully.
There were maybe 7 of us.
We left as it started to get dark. Far later than we wanted to.
As we headed north and east, we could see the townships lit up with what we assumed were fires from the riots, all around our route. Annie and I take over the back seat, still getting to know each other as it were.
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| Mission church in Roma, Lesotho, May 1976 Your correspondent, the priest (Belgian with a heavy lisp), the lady we hitched a lift with and, ? |
She took us to her mission and, it being almost dark, we accepted an invitation to stay the night before heading out again.
Of course, Annie & I had only been going out for a few weeks, and we are happily exploring various possibilities of our relationship. So, throughout the night, many and various groans, giggles and grunts echo around the pitch black darkened cell.
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| God Help Me Pass. Almost totally impassable in winter |
About 4:30AM, still totally pitch dark, he opened his door and had to step over us. Oooops. These were Catholics after all.
I can never forget the early morning mass around 7:30 that (Sunday) morning.
Inside the huge church, the Belgian priest (as in pix above), leads the mass in what I assumed was fluent Sotho. He had a terrible lisp. Even in Sotho it was easy to comprehend this. The service was incredible, even earth moving, yes, more than the night moves.
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| Annie & I on our way back home heading out of God Help Me Pass, Lesotho May 1976 |
Another life enhancing, or life appreciating moment. As you can see, totally unforgettable, at least so far
Our drive lady takes us to God Help Me Pass on Sunday, late morning. We have to go another 200 Kms to get out of the other side of Lesotho. Only significant 4 x 4 can get through here, and they are not going all the way across. We retire, and head back the way we came, towards Joburg
The first of many weekend jaunts exploring the southern limits of the continent and the physical aspects of each other.
Somewhen in here, my innate penchant for philosophy and philosophical thought applies itself to Apartheid South Africa. I came to the conclusion that reality or at least your acceptance of societal norms, is based entirely on what you are prepared to accept as a basis for living. In this society, if you simply accept that a black mans brain is smaller than a white mans (a speech making topic - read on!), then the rationalisation in your head is not even something to feel embarrassed about. It is actually a fact that the blacks are not worthy of civilisation and the rest of the entire Apartheid state is totally logical and sound
Essentially, if you accept the basic thesis, you can sleep at night
A few weeks later, as I recall, we had a VW Combi that needed to be taken up to Phalaborwa (maybe a 4 hour drive), to be returned to the owner. Junior was, as ever in charge.
We left Joburg Friday June 18th during the Soweto riots.
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| Returning the Kombi to Phalabora, June 19th, 1976 |
There were maybe 7 of us.
We left as it started to get dark. Far later than we wanted to.
As we headed north and east, we could see the townships lit up with what we assumed were fires from the riots, all around our route. Annie and I take over the back seat, still getting to know each other as it were.
We knew each other extremely well after this week end actually
We got totally lost, and backtracked several times and ended up camping in a ditch well after midnight
We travelled via Kruger and spooked an elephant or two and eventually, Sunday afternoon we drop the Kombi and somehow we all hitch back home
Joburg had calmed down by the time we got back. No revolution this week and the violence and death toll was heavily suppressed. But of course, this was only obvious later
Life became a wonderful time.We got totally lost, and backtracked several times and ended up camping in a ditch well after midnight
We travelled via Kruger and spooked an elephant or two and eventually, Sunday afternoon we drop the Kombi and somehow we all hitch back home
Joburg had calmed down by the time we got back. No revolution this week and the violence and death toll was heavily suppressed. But of course, this was only obvious later
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| "George", Chips, Jay and Petra strutting their chick stuff |
No charge, for both of us as it turns out
It's Saturday Night Fever time. There are disco's and bars everywhere (whites only of course). The hotel has both a swimming pool and 2 squash courts. This plus free food, accommodation and hot and cold running Annie, was just about what I'd always lived for. What a change from England.
I introduce Annie to "The Rocky Horror Picture Show". Knowing South African sensibilities, I was amazed that it was showing here. It took them about a year to understand what "I can make you a man" actually meant, then it was banned
One night we are having a piss up in a local pub, and I remember Junior is up on a table trying to rip a light off the wall. He didn't manage although he really tried
One day Annie asked me why I held back emotionally, essentially, why was I having trouble making a commitment to her, I told her that I didn't want to get hurt.
She obviously felt intimidated by Fran, my girlfriend back in UK.
I had told Annie that she had written to me to see if I wanted her to come out to see me. With Annies request for a much(?) closer union, I wrote back and told her no. When I told Annie this, she threw herself at me, and our relationship really took off. Annie and I were beginning to have a really deep relationship, certainly far deeper than I had ever even been aware was possible
On one of my trips to meet Junior at his bank, and I'm introduced to Rose, a Brit who is also working there. I invite her for dinner at my hotel. Wayne, him as my financial saviour from Botswana, is also there. I assume that I had invited him to join us
I think it was just the 4 of us, ah no, Erwin another Burroughs guy from Cape Town was there too, but I remember this one evening especially clearly.
At the table, Annie made a statement, essentially said to me, and these witnesses, that she was hereby dedicating herself to me. Actually making a public commitment. I was dumbfounded. I knew exactly what she was telling me. I have never felt any previous or future commitment as deeply as I felt that one that night
One of the fun stuff tricks Annie played on me, was to get Chips to send me a letter explaining how the anonymous writer found me "really sexy" etc, and wanted to take me out and meet at a bar one night.
Of course, for me, if I make a commitment, its a commitment, so I show Annie the letter which she professes to have no knowledge of.
I turn up at the bar, and of course, it was Annie testing me out. I think I passed, but she did notice that I'd had a shave ("you bastard!") before I came.
The funny part was, that she had been mugged of her bag that afternoon, and as her bag had the tickets in, she actually gave chase and caught the guy. She screamed at him and demanded the tickets back, but he could keep the money. She knew damn well that she needed to have the tickets or I'd just think she had turned up and sent my "other admirer" packing.
One day she was very upset. She knew that Chips was feeling very down, so had bet her one of her favourite outfits if she got some guy into bed. She knew that this guy would be good for her, and it was a friends sacrifice.
Hearing this, I immediately hatched a plan, whereby I would offer to sleep with Chips, but would resist all her feminine whiles and not have sex with her and she make a reverse bet and could get it back.
Annie of course knew far better than I how insistent ladies can be about winning the favour of, well just about any guy. She nixxed the whole idea. With years of hindsight and experience, I'm sure she was right.
One Sunday while I was still in the hotel, I was back at the house where there was a big smoke in going on. I don't think I was involved in it. Dave had met some "cool" dude complete with earrings and tattoos, in a bar, and brought him back to the house for a smoke.
Don't forget that drugs, 40+ years ago in SA were a 20 year hard labour sentence. No buggering about. Well, actually, probably lots of being buggering about.
Of course, next day, at the office, I get a phone call from Annie. Chips had been at the house when an entire SWOT team had descended on the house hoping to find a cartels warehouse. By some incredible lucky coincidence, Jay & Chips had thrown out all the dope paraphernalia, cleaned up and the trash had been carted off by the trash guys. Seems that they were all after really heavy stuff, and actually dismantled the refrigerator, which apparently is where heavy stuff is stored.
We got away with it, but god, that was close!
It was an incredible time. I had maybe 2 months of courses. I met a lot of folks from around Africa, and we had a fantastic laugh. Non stop. It was chaos in disguise, a non stop endless riot. Annie and I, now suitably committed, had a lot of fun. More emotional dimensions than I had ever experienced before, or imagined possible
MISSING ENTRY HERE
It's Saturday Night Fever time. There are disco's and bars everywhere (whites only of course). The hotel has both a swimming pool and 2 squash courts. This plus free food, accommodation and hot and cold running Annie, was just about what I'd always lived for. What a change from England.
I introduce Annie to "The Rocky Horror Picture Show". Knowing South African sensibilities, I was amazed that it was showing here. It took them about a year to understand what "I can make you a man" actually meant, then it was banned
One night we are having a piss up in a local pub, and I remember Junior is up on a table trying to rip a light off the wall. He didn't manage although he really tried
One day Annie asked me why I held back emotionally, essentially, why was I having trouble making a commitment to her, I told her that I didn't want to get hurt.
She obviously felt intimidated by Fran, my girlfriend back in UK.
I had told Annie that she had written to me to see if I wanted her to come out to see me. With Annies request for a much(?) closer union, I wrote back and told her no. When I told Annie this, she threw herself at me, and our relationship really took off. Annie and I were beginning to have a really deep relationship, certainly far deeper than I had ever even been aware was possible
On one of my trips to meet Junior at his bank, and I'm introduced to Rose, a Brit who is also working there. I invite her for dinner at my hotel. Wayne, him as my financial saviour from Botswana, is also there. I assume that I had invited him to join us
I think it was just the 4 of us, ah no, Erwin another Burroughs guy from Cape Town was there too, but I remember this one evening especially clearly.
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| The heydays of 58 6th street. It declined considerably once Junior left for the USA Mike, Tamara, ? Jay, Junior, Your Correspondent, Chips, Annie, Dave. George is centre |
One of the fun stuff tricks Annie played on me, was to get Chips to send me a letter explaining how the anonymous writer found me "really sexy" etc, and wanted to take me out and meet at a bar one night.
Of course, for me, if I make a commitment, its a commitment, so I show Annie the letter which she professes to have no knowledge of.
I turn up at the bar, and of course, it was Annie testing me out. I think I passed, but she did notice that I'd had a shave ("you bastard!") before I came.
The funny part was, that she had been mugged of her bag that afternoon, and as her bag had the tickets in, she actually gave chase and caught the guy. She screamed at him and demanded the tickets back, but he could keep the money. She knew damn well that she needed to have the tickets or I'd just think she had turned up and sent my "other admirer" packing.
One day she was very upset. She knew that Chips was feeling very down, so had bet her one of her favourite outfits if she got some guy into bed. She knew that this guy would be good for her, and it was a friends sacrifice.
Hearing this, I immediately hatched a plan, whereby I would offer to sleep with Chips, but would resist all her feminine whiles and not have sex with her and she make a reverse bet and could get it back.
Annie of course knew far better than I how insistent ladies can be about winning the favour of, well just about any guy. She nixxed the whole idea. With years of hindsight and experience, I'm sure she was right.
One Sunday while I was still in the hotel, I was back at the house where there was a big smoke in going on. I don't think I was involved in it. Dave had met some "cool" dude complete with earrings and tattoos, in a bar, and brought him back to the house for a smoke.
Don't forget that drugs, 40+ years ago in SA were a 20 year hard labour sentence. No buggering about. Well, actually, probably lots of being buggering about.
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| Early relationship, what could possibly go wrong? |
We got away with it, but god, that was close!
It was an incredible time. I had maybe 2 months of courses. I met a lot of folks from around Africa, and we had a fantastic laugh. Non stop. It was chaos in disguise, a non stop endless riot. Annie and I, now suitably committed, had a lot of fun. More emotional dimensions than I had ever experienced before, or imagined possible
MISSING ENTRY HERE
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| Chinoi Blue Cave, and divers |
Eventually, the courses, and hence the hotel luxury and the incredible lifestyle that goes with it, ends, and I actually start working.
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| Kariba Lodge. It was like the war was on all the time. Pure hedonism, and everything that goes with it, non stop |
I got stuck on a road, way up in the northern Transvaal, it was raining, I felt awful.
Thankfully, a couple of lovely Afrikaners spotted me on the otherwise empty road, picked me up and welcomed me into their home and to stay with them for the night.
I was so thankful to these strangers for rescuing me from a terrible night.
From there, I got a lift in an old Mercedes sports car with the roof down, and an even older driver.
This was back in the days of the Rhodesian illegal white government.
The driver was Rhodesian, white of course, and as we cleared the border, the immigration officer advised us that there were reports of "Ters" on the way to Salisbury. Terrorists to us whites, with AK47's pointing at us if you need the full picture
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| Kariba Dam. The other side shot at white people on this side occasionally |
I camped at the Kariba lodge. The atmosphere was probably, just like it was during the second world war. The guys and chicks were living, literally like there may not be a tomorrow. This being Saturday night, it was overtly hedonistic.
Its about 1500 km from Joburg to Kariba. I'd just got there, stayed just the night and then had to come back.
I got a lift with a Brit immigrant guy who also put me up in his house, this time in Bulawayo. There is some argument with his wife, apparently about me being in the house.
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| The Rhodesian Army look out over Kariba |
What an arsehole.
I get back home in time to get to work. Monday PM I guess
I don't remember much of the next few months, but at some stage soon after Junior was asked by his mother to come home to USA. The house becomes partly mine to manage. It doesn't do too well without Junior, and it all falls apart by October.
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The road to Kariba.
I've been along here many times since this one
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By this time I have a car, and we travel around a lot now. One time we went to Swaziland where Jay had used her talents to become a croupier. I remember that it rained all the time we were there. We stayed in a tent. Changing into our fancy Casino best inside it.
Life goes on, both Annie and I earning cash, partying, discoing and again, within the limits of our personalities, enjoying ourselves. Annie had horses when we met, which she eventually gave away. As compensation, we both went riding on Sundays across the Veldt.
I had taken lessons and eventually became quite good at staying on the beasts. I could never actually ride,
Arriving at Junes, the horse owner late Saturday nights, often after a big party in town, we would sleep over and be up early.
So, typically, as the morning mists dispersed, we would be hacking away many Sunday mornings, eventually cantering and galloping to a pool and braiing (South African barbecuing), till the late afternoon.
I also overcome my fears, and start at the Johannesburg Speech Making Society. The group was composed mostly of refugee Jews from Europe who are trying to keep some form of public speaking alive. They had been going for decades, and I was the first new member for about 15 years!
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| I've put this in to remind me that I worked in a computer shop. The picture behind me was computer generated |
My first night, I was terrified of the whole thing, but arrive and sit in the room. There's quite a few people about sitting in a circle. Some nod and smile. Eventually we start and we are invited to tell everyone how we found Jesus. Luckily, I ask for the Speech Makers, Ah, you want next door they say. Phew!
I'm no longer sure if it was run weekly, bi weekly or longer, but I do remember taking 3 or 4 hours in the local library to research my topics. This was indeed my introduction to public speaking and debating as I'd promised myself back at Brunel. And I came to love the power of public speaking and convincing people just with your speaking ability.
Come October, and I'm a veritable wizkid where I'm working. I seem to have a natural affiliation to these huge machines. I notice that the staff are split into English, English speaking South Africans, and Afrikaans speaking South Africans.
Undoubtedly, the cleverest computing folks are the English, and the cleverest mechanical folks are the Afrikaans. Some of the really accomplished workers are the "Bantu" and "Coloureds", but none of these are allowed anywhere near the guts of the equipment. Yes, the more professional jobs are solely for whites, even if the only whites available are totally incompetent.
As the pix above shows, I could print out various computer generated print outs. That was one of them, but I also remember getting to work early on Annies birthday (she was making extra cash as an escort, no, not THAT sort of escort, but sometimes too close) so she was out that evening, and I was working.
However, I went in early and printed out "HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANNIE" on the line printer. It was about 2 feet high and about 25 feet long, and hung it on the wall outside of the house. It was actually as long as the wall. She was suitably impressed with the gesture
We took 2 weeks off for Christmas and start hitching, via the East coast to Cape Town. I have no idea why we didn't go in the car. The "huge" mileage maybe?
We start in Jo'burg with some people we met, somewhere...? who are heading down to the coast for fishing. Maybe Port Shepstone? This turned out to be quite obnoxious as this guys father was a real dirty old man and we had to just leave.
The route was then down along the garden route to meet a guy I'd met on a course in Joburg.
Back pre "liberation", the entire country was incredibly safe, we would think nothing of camping in fields as the sun set.
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| Sailing at Cape Town. Christmas, 1976 |
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| Party time, probably at the Cuckoo's Nest Annies workmate, Chris?, Annies fellow secretary, Annie, no idea, Peter |
I think we caught the train back. I seem to remember Annie having some special allowance for a Blue Train ticket.
We returned to find everything from our room at Peters place in a pile of junk in the middle of our room. Apparently, he had been "evicted" by the land lord, and everything was thrown out onto the street. Peter didn't seem to be too perturbed, even though all of his stuff was also tossed out, but he'd put everything of his back into some form of order, ours was still trash.
We felt totally violated and decided it was time to move.
Over the next 6 weeks, we used our various contacts to search out a suitable pad.
In one I remember, we were interviewed by social niceties folks in a truly upmarket house.
Such was the apartheid system, that this place was a mansion with tennis courts, a pool and several servants.
We did drinks (cocktails actually), polite chat, and we had to "dress" for dinner. When we finally did eat, I was famished and devoured the food.
We, as in me, were turned down, actually, we didn't even hear back from them, but got the reason for our refusal from Annies contact as being my uncouthness. I felt really bad, for Annie if not the loss of a great potential residence
Eventually, somehow, we move into "The Cuckoo's Nest" in Malvern who didn't need to investigate our eating habits before we paid the rent. There's lots of similar folks in this house, and a few odder ones in the house next door. We actually share a swimming pool, plus we have a maid.
Back then, Joburg had a kind of travellers house grouping which would cycle houses for parties. We were one of them so there was a lot of weekend partying.
About this time, I became a landed immigrant, it had some special name, but it meant that I had a right to live in South Africa for as long as I wanted. Well, of course, I was white after all.
I probably don't anymore
At work, our group becomes quite close and actually develops a social scene.
At one point the group (only the whites of course) get a big bonus for some reason and we decide to spend it on a Kings Feast. A dining event based around the table, and court of Henry VIII. Its still there, but MUCH bigger than it was in 1977. I assume its on a Saturday night when we are all off of work. We cajole a non drinking driver to take us there and back, and all book out royal outfits. We get lost and are pretty pissed by the time we arrive, very late. Everyone has had to wait for us as everyone needs to wait for the "King and Queen", and all of our group make way for Annie & I to sit at the head of the table to be the King and Queen. I was really touched.
What a blast. As King, all the "subjects" have to come to the Kings table to ask for the salt. Old custom I seem to remember. There were a group of Afrikaans at a table who sent a wench up for salt, and I told her she had to dance on the table. She obviously hadn't done this kind of thing before, so didn't get any.
We all had a great laugh.
There was also a time when Tom Stoppard's "Dirty Linen" came to town.
Now, I'd seen "Travesties" in London before I left, (twice I think), and it was (and still is), my favourite modern play.
I convinced the entire (white) group (blacks were not allowed in theatres anyway), to come see it with Annie & I. I told them that this guy Stoppard was the most fantastic writer, and everyone would really have a fantastic time and shouldn't miss it.
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| A weekend of portraits on a quiet spring weekend at the Cookoos Nest. Malvern, Johannesburg C1977 |
Travesties is totally cerebral, meaning that you need a pretty good grounding in Ulysses, James Joyce, Lenin, the Russian revolution plus the Dada art movements of the early 20th century. Knowing the entire plot of Oscar Wildes "The Importance of Being Earnest" and a general appreciation of theatre and history.
"Dirty Linen" is pure slapstick and stupid innuendo. Pure lowest level of entertainment.
Come the interval, I was mortified and knew that I deserved to be told to give everyone there money back.
Well, not quite, I'd totally miss judged my audience. They went bananas about it. It was the best they had ever seen and kept repeating all the smutty jokes next week at work.
That night I learnt a lot more about people
I wake up on April 1st to find the place covered in tinsel and stuff like stars and stripes.
I realise it's April Fools day and work out that Junior had arrived in the night, had transformed the house after midnight, finally getting to sleep about 4AM, and was now sleeping on the floor in a back room
I toss a bucket of water on him and head off to work
Life continues.
We have regular bar nights and Annie & I continue with our careers and saving money. All in all, life is good.
One Sunday, Annie is riding. I'm not there, maybe working? She comes off of her horse and is dragged along for a while. She is pretty beaten up.
Come the interval, I was mortified and knew that I deserved to be told to give everyone there money back.
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| Junior as he departs to leave for Africa, redux May 1997 |
That night I learnt a lot more about people
I wake up on April 1st to find the place covered in tinsel and stuff like stars and stripes.
I realise it's April Fools day and work out that Junior had arrived in the night, had transformed the house after midnight, finally getting to sleep about 4AM, and was now sleeping on the floor in a back room
I toss a bucket of water on him and head off to work
Life continues.
We have regular bar nights and Annie & I continue with our careers and saving money. All in all, life is good.
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| Your correspondent in characteristic pose Note "Vomit" T shirt, a birthday gift from Annie |
One Sunday, Annie is riding. I'm not there, maybe working? She comes off of her horse and is dragged along for a while. She is pretty beaten up.
About 12 weeks later, this accident comes back to haunt her. After returning to Joburg after a trip to Maun in Botswana with Steph, she has to rush to hospital. After she sees the surgeon, we start talking about having kids, and where. We decide that it won't be in South Africa.
Deep, meaningful stuff eh?
The Apartheid system identified everyone not just as whites (Blankies) and non whites (Nie Blankies) but also many and varied stratifications and even by tribal heritage.
Deep, meaningful stuff eh?
The Apartheid system identified everyone not just as whites (Blankies) and non whites (Nie Blankies) but also many and varied stratifications and even by tribal heritage.
There are blacks and "coloured" (awful isn't it?) and I make friends with some of them. We actually go to dinner with an African from my work, and a "coloured" I think, from Annies.
Its totally illegal, and we could all be in deep shit, but we and they are not caught entering or leaving the "wrong" side of the line, and I for one, felt very humbled by their quiet dignity
Tom & Leslie, friends from back in London arrive in SA, and they too become part of out group scene until they head to Rhodesia
Of course, South Africa is still under heavy apartheid, and you can't avoid it on a daily basis. I meet Afrikaners and expat Brits who both treat the Africans as scum. Its obnoxious if you allow yourself to notice it, but eventually, you either accept it and revel in it, or reject it, totally
There was one example where an African was waiting at his bosses car in a parking lot. Two cops approach, give him a hard time then start beating him, basically, just because he was black
Its totally illegal, and we could all be in deep shit, but we and they are not caught entering or leaving the "wrong" side of the line, and I for one, felt very humbled by their quiet dignity
Tom & Leslie, friends from back in London arrive in SA, and they too become part of out group scene until they head to Rhodesia
Of course, South Africa is still under heavy apartheid, and you can't avoid it on a daily basis. I meet Afrikaners and expat Brits who both treat the Africans as scum. Its obnoxious if you allow yourself to notice it, but eventually, you either accept it and revel in it, or reject it, totally
There was one example where an African was waiting at his bosses car in a parking lot. Two cops approach, give him a hard time then start beating him, basically, just because he was black
Route: Johannesburg - Windhoek, Niagara Falls, Rhodesia
Come June 1977, I've had enough of it, and Annie is happy to start on an African adventure tour. I resign, but I'm talked into staying for another 6 weeks due to lack of staffing, at a pretty spectacular increase in salary too. We stay until July 30th when we leave The Cuckoo's Nest, and head out again, into Africa
I'm in the best financial position I've been in since 1970, and Annie has also got a fair amount of savings. We're all set
Hitchhiking was relatively easy, as long as you are white, but you needed to be careful in case you were left push starting a vehicle and the driver driving off with your gear in the car.
I remember being driven by Peter (our mate from Burroughs) around the Johannesburg ring road to the music of Hendrix,
"There must be some kind of way out of here"
But it wasn't all fun and adventure.
It's very, very cold. He tried to get Annie into his room in the hotel. It was the only room available in town.
For some long forgotten reason, I wander around town probably looking for a place to camp.
As pissed as I was, I still remember the huge, endless bowl of the spectacular starry sky.
Once in Namibia, we camp outside a farm, leaving our cooking pots outside for the vermin to lick clean. They sounded a lot bigger than they actually were.
Come June 1977, I've had enough of it, and Annie is happy to start on an African adventure tour. I resign, but I'm talked into staying for another 6 weeks due to lack of staffing, at a pretty spectacular increase in salary too. We stay until July 30th when we leave The Cuckoo's Nest, and head out again, into Africa
I'm in the best financial position I've been in since 1970, and Annie has also got a fair amount of savings. We're all set
Hitchhiking was relatively easy, as long as you are white, but you needed to be careful in case you were left push starting a vehicle and the driver driving off with your gear in the car.
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| This could be anywhere, but is probably in Namibia |
"There must be some kind of way out of here"
And
there was.
But it wasn't all fun and adventure.
Eventually, Annie had
had enough of my personality, (even I admit I have a few faults, well, back then I did), and we parted ways, but that was
still months and thousands of kilometres away.
Somewhere, not long after we depart Joburg, we get a lift with a dirty old man. He has a bottle and we drove along keeps giving me a drink from it.
As we arrive, near dusk probably in Uppington, I'm almost catatonic with booze. It's my failing: I just trust people.
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| The farmhouse in Namibia |
As pissed as I was, I still remember the huge, endless bowl of the spectacular starry sky.
I have never come to terms with how totally out of it I became.
Eventually I find Annie
(I know, I got totally lost somehow).
It's way below freezing, I'm totally rat arsed, like I have only remember being 3 or 4 times in my life, but I still realise we need to get indoors tonight.
I wander around in this total drunken stupor, knocking on doors absolutely brainless with booze, until someone (two sisters I seem to remember) let us doss on their floor for the night. Even in a house, it's freezing.
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| Inspecting an Ostriches nest, Namibia |
I wander around in this total drunken stupor, knocking on doors absolutely brainless with booze, until someone (two sisters I seem to remember) let us doss on their floor for the night. Even in a house, it's freezing.
It was outrageous. I can't explain it, but I can remember it, all too well
I think we leave before dawn and head out.
Once in Namibia, we camp outside a farm, leaving our cooking pots outside for the vermin to lick clean. They sounded a lot bigger than they actually were.
Next day we meet the farmer who owns the farm. He appears delighted to meet us and we are invited to have a tour of the farm, ostrich nests and all.
Hitching, being white, is easy, even though I cant remember much of it
Eventually we get to Windhoek,
At some stage on route, we were picked up by a Yarpie (South African Dutch) couple in a large vehicle and a caravan.
They are travelling around with a similar couple with an even bigger car and caravan.
They drop us at the central park in Windhoek and come back for us the next day. Seems pretty good, but.....
We camped in Okahandja for a week, then, can you believe it, we sponsored them while they scammed us, took quite a bit of our cash and dumped us back in Cape Town and disappeared.
Mind you, I still remember the fabulous Crumble Pap the wife made, it was the highlight of the trip
Didn't I say that I trusted people too much? More of that later.
After arriving in Cape Town, and slowly realising that these guys are honest crooks, they could have actually stolen from us, but they simply insinuated themselves on us.
Annie took more sympathy on them than I did, but neither of us knew quite how to handle it all
Somehow, we return to Namibia, then across the desert, to Swakopmundt.
So far, so dreadful eh?
It shouldn't be this problematic, and we are only out for 3 weeks so far
We are still hitching. It's still easy. Camping is safe, if a bit difficult to find.
I remember staying in an A frame in Swakopmund and re reading "Watership Down" for a few days. It was cold and damp
But we realise feeling pissed off wont get us to anywhere fast, and head out towards Maun
After a few days, we arrive in Ghanzi, about 550Km from Windhoek.
As you can imagine from the sand track that was pretty much the standard for all but the biggest towns, this was a long trip, but eventually arrive.
There is one hotel (back then) and the mail van comes every week. We have about 5 days to wait.
The lovely guy at the hotel tells us that there's no one else there, so he donates a room to us for our stay or until management arrives (they didn't)
I want to press on and convince Annie that we should try and hitch our way to Maun, another 250KM, just a few hours these days, but an overnight journey then (to avoid the day time heat).
Hopelessly as it turns out. There's zero traffic here. Surprise
Hitching, being white, is easy, even though I cant remember much of it
Eventually we get to Windhoek,
At some stage on route, we were picked up by a Yarpie (South African Dutch) couple in a large vehicle and a caravan.
 | |||
| I remember he was a lovely guy |
They drop us at the central park in Windhoek and come back for us the next day. Seems pretty good, but.....
We camped in Okahandja for a week, then, can you believe it, we sponsored them while they scammed us, took quite a bit of our cash and dumped us back in Cape Town and disappeared.
Mind you, I still remember the fabulous Crumble Pap the wife made, it was the highlight of the trip
Didn't I say that I trusted people too much? More of that later.
After arriving in Cape Town, and slowly realising that these guys are honest crooks, they could have actually stolen from us, but they simply insinuated themselves on us.
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| Fort Alte Fest, Windhoek I don't remember being here,but I have the pix |
Annie took more sympathy on them than I did, but neither of us knew quite how to handle it all
Somehow, we return to Namibia, then across the desert, to Swakopmundt.
So far, so dreadful eh?
It shouldn't be this problematic, and we are only out for 3 weeks so far
We are still hitching. It's still easy. Camping is safe, if a bit difficult to find.
 |
| Downtown Windhoek, August 1977 |
But we realise feeling pissed off wont get us to anywhere fast, and head out towards Maun
After a few days, we arrive in Ghanzi, about 550Km from Windhoek.
As you can imagine from the sand track that was pretty much the standard for all but the biggest towns, this was a long trip, but eventually arrive.
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| The main Windhoek, Ghanzi Botswana Highway, C1977 |
There is one hotel (back then) and the mail van comes every week. We have about 5 days to wait.
The lovely guy at the hotel tells us that there's no one else there, so he donates a room to us for our stay or until management arrives (they didn't)
I want to press on and convince Annie that we should try and hitch our way to Maun, another 250KM, just a few hours these days, but an overnight journey then (to avoid the day time heat).
Hopelessly as it turns out. There's zero traffic here. Surprise
 | |
| Early morning, somewhere near Maun. I have an idea that this may have been a post office mail pick up, or indeed, a post office. Hmmm | |
We have a final major falling out at the road junction, and Annie calls it quits. I find out in Vic Falls that she meant it, but that's still a few weeks away
Eventually, we get a lift overnight on the mail truck and arrive in Maun, dog tired early morning.
I wasn't surprised to find a hut made out of coke and pepsi cans at the centre of "town" there, so didn't take a photo of it. Oh Well
About 2Km from the drop off in "town", there's a lodge, a real "DUDE" lodge complete with a bona fide "White Hunter" in residence.
The lodge was everything it should have been in 1977.
Annie
and Steph had come here back in March, April?. (I think Annie got a free flight/ trip up there?)
The White Hunter apparently whisked Steph off her feet to a horizontal position (after as Annie described it, her gently declining said white Hunters similar invitation). Steph definitely felt like a real woman after that trip
While we are there, the two (obese) owners of Budweiser (yes, that one) I was told are in residence.
We are not introduced.
But one of the nights, I do remember playing poker with 6 or 8 of us, all playing with different currencies, US$, Rand, Rhodesian $ and the new Botswana currency, Pula, all at par except Rand which was 5 to 1
I only remember because it was such a wild night and I won the last, huge pot somehow, $60 - $80 maybe. A huge amount then, especially for travellers and something I've never come close to since
We camped out in the tent right on the river. Back then it was about a kilometre wide and we needed to take a canoe across if we wanted to get to the other bank. There wasn't much there, but saw several swimming cobra's on the way
I recall one night getting really pissed and heading back to the tend, realise that it's been unzipped all day up to now.
Our guide and poler was a full time fisherman in the delta, but I don't remember eating any, in fact, I can't remember any food, just halcyon poling trips, surprisingly, zero bugs too
It was halcyonic, Eden complete with the said serpents. I even went swimming as our guide said it was not very crocodile or Hippo infested.
What a delight it all was
After 3/ 4 days of this, I suddenly get a fever, gut rot, I feel terrible. A day or more away from the lodge, it seems best to head back, even though medical attention is an air flight away.
Our glorious trip to the Okavango comes to an ignominious end.
We are both incredibly knackered but suffer no dreaded disease or death
There's an overland truck camping here when we arrive back, and for an incredible amount, take it, probably to Vic Falls. I remembered how much I'd come to hate these things after a few days.
It certainly had its share of obnoxious folks on board, one being my favourite nationality, an Israeli. (Why me god?)
He got into quite a abusive shouting session with me because I refused to sell him my Mitch map. I knew it was worth gold for any further hiking, and simply would not part with it. Eventually he got really abusive and made our lives on the truck (5 days in total) even more miserable.
I assume we went through Chobe, but that trip is pretty much blank except for the misery of the trip
With our residents permits for South Africa, we have no trouble getting into any of these countries, and Rhodesia is no exception.
We camp out at the municipal camp ground which was pretty much downtown central Vic Falls.
Annie once told me, way back, that she hopes that when she realised a relationship is dead, she has the power within herself to leave it.
After our last night together, she does.
I'm stoic, then as the days pass, more and more desperate and empty.
It continues like that, but that's in my next dissertation.
Thanks, if anyone made it through, for getting here
Eventually, we get a lift overnight on the mail truck and arrive in Maun, dog tired early morning.
I wasn't surprised to find a hut made out of coke and pepsi cans at the centre of "town" there, so didn't take a photo of it. Oh Well
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| Sunrise at one of the mail truck stops en route to Maun. Taken from the truck as I remember |
The lodge was everything it should have been in 1977.
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| Downtown Maun, C1977 |
The White Hunter apparently whisked Steph off her feet to a horizontal position (after as Annie described it, her gently declining said white Hunters similar invitation). Steph definitely felt like a real woman after that trip
While we are there, the two (obese) owners of Budweiser (yes, that one) I was told are in residence.
We are not introduced.
 |
| The view of Africa from The Riverside Lodge Maun C1977 |
I only remember because it was such a wild night and I won the last, huge pot somehow, $60 - $80 maybe. A huge amount then, especially for travellers and something I've never come close to since
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| The view of the other bank over the Okavango from The Riverside Lodge Maun C1977 |
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| A more intimate pastoral view of the Okavango delta from Probably what is now The Riverside Lodge |
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| As you can see, large channels and no nasty attack crocs |
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| A heavily touristed traffic area, Okavango About 10Kms out from Riverside Lodge |
Oh god, I remember thinking there could be any number of cobra's etc in there. It's dark, I do what is either the bravest or most stupid thing in my life up the that date. I go in and shake out the sleeping bags.
Your correspondent is obviously still here typing
Eventually we hired a poler (forget his name) and an aluminuum canoe. Bugger the real "mokoro", tree log one.
 |
| Our poler and (essential), guide |
Eventually we hired a poler (forget his name) and an aluminuum canoe. Bugger the real "mokoro", tree log one.
 | ||
| Positively Constable, Maun style |
It was halcyonic, Eden complete with the said serpents. I even went swimming as our guide said it was not very crocodile or Hippo infested.
What a delight it all was
 |
| Camping with other (French) adventurers. Okavango delta |
Our glorious trip to the Okavango comes to an ignominious end.
We are both incredibly knackered but suffer no dreaded disease or death
 | |
| Arriving back at Riverside Lodge. Positively knackered. Our camp site was just by where we are unloading |
It certainly had its share of obnoxious folks on board, one being my favourite nationality, an Israeli. (Why me god?)
He got into quite a abusive shouting session with me because I refused to sell him my Mitch map. I knew it was worth gold for any further hiking, and simply would not part with it. Eventually he got really abusive and made our lives on the truck (5 days in total) even more miserable.
I assume we went through Chobe, but that trip is pretty much blank except for the misery of the trip
 |
| Did I say "Positively knackered"? |
With our residents permits for South Africa, we have no trouble getting into any of these countries, and Rhodesia is no exception.
We camp out at the municipal camp ground which was pretty much downtown central Vic Falls.
 |
| Market Day, Departing Maun C1977 September |
After our last night together, she does.
I'm stoic, then as the days pass, more and more desperate and empty.
It continues like that, but that's in my next dissertation.
Thanks, if anyone made it through, for getting here
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