Farewell, Africa

Day 113: Johannesburg, South Africa

Friday afternoon, we stopped for a shopping break in the town of Hazyview on our way to Blyde River Canyon. The popular Panorama Route through the canyon features several impressive viewpoints, and what could be more impressive than one called God's Window? We arrived there in the late afternoon after a long and winding drive through mountainous terrain. From the viewpoint, a vast and majestic landscape spread out into the hazy distance. Bright red flowers embellished the sheer rock walls of the cliffs on either side of us. The valley below was flanked by gently curving mountains rising to pink-tinged tips illuminated by the setting sun. We climbed a pathway from the viewpoint and arrived in small patch of rainforest that was a lush collage of dense ferns, tangled vines, and crimson flowers.

Sunset at God's Window along the Panorama Route, Blyde River Canyon, Drakensberg, South Africa

We had a late start leaving Kruger, so we would have to return to the other viewpoints the next day. After sunset, we sped for what seemed like a never-ending two and a half hours along dark, curving roads down from the mountains. At eight o'clock, we finally arrived at Ilkley Game Ranch, where we stayed in the bungalows – with comfortable beds and nice showers! Dinner was provided at the ranch in the form of a traditional dance performance by members of a local Shangaan tribe. These dancers showed amazing endurance as they danced for almost two solid hours while we enjoyed dinner. As an appetizer, we had beef biltong, and this was much nicer than the shrink-wrapped biltong bought in stores. It was more akin to Italian carpaccio. Next, we tried a traditional Shangaan starter. A bucket of chicken heads and feet was passed around; I reached into the bucket and pulled out a chicken foot. I cautiously bit into it, but the meat was almost non-existent, and the claws and bones of course were inedible, at least to me. For the main course, we enjoyed some of the South African dishes we had become accustomed to eating: pap (maize meal porridge) and boerewors (sausage).

Saturday was the last day of the trip and was an extremely long day. In the morning, we drove to the nearby Moholoholo Wildlife Rehabilitation Centre, where we listened to an inspiring talk by one of the guides about the true issues of wildlife conservation. He described how international efforts to "save the elephants" or "save the rhinos" unintentionally cause harm to many lesser-known species. The habitat is what really needs to be saved. Although everyone loves elephants, he explained, the large creatures are also destructive, and too many of them in a confined area destroy the habitat of smaller animals, leading those creatures to become endangered. Conservation groups have protested against culling elephants and other star animals, and as a result, the ecosystems in some parks such as Kruger have become unbalanced. Although leopards are difficult to spot, they are abundant in Kruger. The solitary cats are fiercely territorial, and as more leopards are born, there is less land for each cat to claim for its territory. Some leopards therefore leave Kruger and invade local farmland, where they are shot by farmers because the predators represent a direct threat to their livestock and livelihood. The "circle of life" in Africa can never recover on its own. As we humans have encroached on the habitats of wild animals and set up game reserves to protect them, we must attempt to maintain the balance ourselves within these parks, even if this means culling hundreds of one species to save another.

Honey badger in Moholoholo Wildlife Rehabilitation Centre, Limpopo Province, South Africa

After the interesting and eye-opening talk, we toured some of the animals kept in the park. These are mostly wild animals who have been trapped, injured, poisoned, or electrocuted in power lines. Moholoholo rehabilitates some of these animals and releases them back into the wild. But the center also keeps some of the injured animals to use as educational tools to spread the word about issues facing wild animals in Africa. We were able to pet one of the park's cheetahs, hold some of the birds of prey, see some extremely rare wild dogs, and watch the guide hand-feed – through a chain-link fence – a massive lion and a stunningly beautiful leopard. We also visited an enclosure containing honey badgers, possibly the most vicious creatures in Africa. These badgers attack the genitalia of animals, causing them to bleed to death, and they instill fear even in the king of beasts. The guide told us that the badgers recently escaped, and the center's huge male lion was cowering up on a rock, fearing for its life.

Wild dog in Moholoholo Wildlife Rehabilitation Centre, Limpopo Province, South Africa

Leopard in Moholoholo Wildlife Rehabilitation Centre, Limpopo Province, South Africa

From the rehabilitation center, it was an hour and a half back to Blyde River Canyon, where we had been the evening before. This time, we visited two viewpoints. The first is known as the Three Rondavels, and it features an incredible view of a river gorge and some strange round rock formations adorning the crest of the canyon. We ate lunch here and then visited Bourke's Luck Potholes, a series of cascades.

The Three Rondavels along the Panorama Route, Blyde River Canyon, Drakensberg, South Africa

From Blyde River Canyon, it was an agonizing six hours further to Johannesburg, and we arrived about 9 p.m. The truck dropped passengers off at several hotels and the airport, and it was sad saying farewell to so many people in such a short timespan. I stayed on the truck until the last stop, Mufasa Backpackers, where the Nomad crew also stays. Like many people, I have heard the horror stories about the rampant violent crime in Johannesburg, one of the most dangerous cities in the world. Even out in the middle of nowhere, in the suburb of Benoni, there are abundant precautions against robberies. All the houses on the street, including the hostel, look like they were lifted straight out of Baghdad's Green Zone. These fortresses are surrounded by high prison-like walls and iron gates topped by large coils of barbed wire. In addition, angled electric fencing runs along the tops of the walls, and when the gate to the hostel opened to let the truck in, I felt like I was entering Jurassic Park.

Housing in the township of Soweto, Johannesburg, South Africa

Yesterday, my last full day in Africa, I toured the infamous urban area of Soweto, the largest township in South Africa. The name refers to South Western Townships, and several million people call Soweto home. It took well over an hour to get halfway across the city, where I met my guide at the Apartheid Museum; from there, it was a short drive into the township. There are actually upper and middle-class sections of Soweto, and the large houses in the richer section look more inviting than the fortresses in the Johannesburg suburbs. The people of the township live like a family, and crime here is relatively low compared to the rest of Johannesburg. We drove past Desmond Tutu's modest house, as well as the house in which Nelson Mandela lived when he was arrested. We also visited the Hector Pieterson Museum, which vividly describes the history behind the Soweto Uprising of June 16, 1976 – one of the pivotal events of the apartheid resistance movement. Students, some only elementary school children, marched against the requirement imposed by the apartheid government that Afrikaans replace English as the language of instruction in schools. Hector Pieterson was a 12-year-old boy who was killed by a stray bullet shot by over-zealous police; he was only one of over five hundred who died during the riots. The next stop was Regina Mundi Catholic Church, where students sought refuge from unrestrained police during the uprising. Bullet holes can still be seen in the ceiling and the stained glass windows.

A depiction of Madonna and Child in Regina Mundi Catholic Church in the township of Soweto, Johannesburg, South Africa

A stained glass window depicting Nelson Mandela in Regina Mundi Catholic Church in the township of Soweto, Johannesburg, South Africa

Our final stop was the informal settlement of Motsoaledi, consisting of a dirt road lined with barbed wire fencing and corrugated metal shacks. Many of the residents in the poorer sections of Soweto do not have electricity, and they use communal toilets and water taps.

A woman stands near a barbed wire fence in Motsoaledi in the township of Soweto, Johannesburg, South Africa.

After a freezing cold night in the hostel, I walked from Mufasa Backpackers to the nearby post office to ship some souvenirs home, and I left my sleeping bag, blanket, gloves, and other items with the hostel to give to charity. I headed to the airport, leaving Johannesburg and South Africa just as anticipation for the upcoming World Cup reaches fever pitch.

On this, my one hundredth day in Africa, I bid farewell to this stunning continent of timeless landscapes, abundant wildlife, and fascinating cultures – indeed, the birthplace of mankind – and look ahead to new adventures in Asia. Africa, you will be deeply missed.

Kruger: A Grand Finale of African Wildlife

Day 110: Kruger National Park, South Africa

Wednesday, we left Mlilwane Wildlife Sanctuary in the morning and drove past the Swazi capital of Mbabane on the way to Pigg's Peak in the north of the country. We had a last chance to buy some Swazi crafts, and then we drove half an hour to the border, where we said farewell to Swaziland and entered South Africa yet again. From the border, it was a short drive to Malelane at the edge of South Africa's star attraction, the world-class Kruger National Park. We stocked up on food and drinks at the supermarket and crossed the gate into the park, where we would spend the next two nights. We arrived at the Berg en Dal Rest Camp in the early afternoon, where we guarded our lunch from the cheeky vervet monkeys who like to sneak off with anything they can get their thieving hands on. We kept a close eye on them as they sat like vultures on top of the truck.

We split up into two groups for our activities in Kruger. That first night at Berg en Dal, I went on a sunset game drive. The vehicle was one of the nicest safari trucks I've been on, and it was equipped with spotlights that passengers could shine into the bush to look for animals hiding in the darkness. We did not stop for the park's ubiquitous impala, but before the sun had even set, we made our first major sighting: a huge male lion lounging by the side of the road. We photographed him as darkness crept closer, and then we drove off to look for more wildlife, spotting several scrub hares bounding through the grass and across the road. It was soon pitch black, and I switched on the spotlight that sat next to my seat, looking for any reflecting glint of eyes in the darkness. One of the passengers yelled at the driver to stop. He had spotted the reflection of a single eye high above the ground: it was an elephant silently walking through the forest. It was difficult to photograph animals only by the illumination of the spotlights, but it was a rare and fascinating experience to be able to view wildlife at night.

What happened next was a quickly fading dream of mine since I arrived in Africa over three months ago. With only two days of game drives left, I had almost given up all hope of seeing a leopard, the most elusive of Africa's "Big Five". The Big Five is traditionally defined as the most dangerous game to hunt on foot, although nowadays most people photograph these animals rather than kill them. These five dangerous animals are the elephant, rhinoceros, buffalo, lion, and leopard. For a fleeting moment, the vehicle's headlights illuminated the hind end of a leopard as it crossed the road and stealthily vanished into the dense trees on the other side. I had finally seen the last member of the Big Five, that beautiful and ever reclusive spotted cat.

Our game drive was not over yet, however. As we drove on, we stumbled upon an impressive group of six lionesses and three absolutely adorable cubs on the side of the road. The cubs played, tumbling over one another just like domestic housecats. Minutes after we left the group of lions, we spotted yet another member of the Big Five: a rhinoceros. We had now seen four of the Big Five in the course of two hours!

Lionesses and cub at night near Berg en Dal in Kruger National Park, South Africa

The next morning, we went on a game walk similar to the one I had done in Matobo National Park in Zimbabwe. The guides were incredibly knowledgeable and informative, and they described the behavior of rhinos in detail as we tracked a group of them. We stumbled upon a large pile of dung that marks the territory of a dominant male. If another male rhino walks into this area and leaves a pile of dung away from the edge of the big pile, he is showing respect to the dominant male. If the outsider instead leaves his dung directly in the large pile, this is a direct challenge to the dominant male rhino, and the two will fight when they meet. We did not find any rhinos before breakfast, so we scrambled to the top of a koppe (rocky hill) to eat and survey the area. We spotted four white rhinos in the distance, so we climbed down and headed towards them. We eventually found them, but they stayed further away from us than the rhinos in Matobo.

We headed back to the campsite at Berg en Dal, where we met the Nomad truck and departed for Skukuza, a major center in the park. On the way, we saw an elephant, numerous types of antelope, and a red-throated Southern ground-hornbill. Then we came to a jam of vehicles stopped in the road: two cheetahs were reclining by a nearby watering hole. It is even rarer to spot cheetahs in the wild than leopards, so we couldn't believe our luck!

Southern ground-hornbill in Kruger National Park, South Africa

Cheetah in Kruger National Park, South Africa

We ate lunch in Skukuza and then continued on to Satara, our campsite for the night. We had already seen quite a few rare animals in Kruger, but our lucky streak continued, and we were actually treated to a "dancing" baby elephant! The calf was disturbed by our truck and was trying to act big; it actually charged us and lifted its trunk straight into the air, sounding a deafening trumpet that was quite impressive for such a small elephant. It retreated to the comfort of its mother, who was standing further back from the road among the trees, but on the way, the cute elephant became tangled in some low brush and "moon-walked" backwards to try to free itself. After clumsily crossing its legs and stumbling around for a while, the calf finally danced itself free from the tangle and stood next to its mother. If elephants can look embarrassed, this one surely did.

Young elephant in Kruger National Park, South Africa

As we made our way towards Satara, we saw a zoo's worth of animals, including impala, kudu, wildebeest, giraffes, baboons, vultures, lions, and – finally – buffalo. This buffalo sighting finished off our Big Five within one day of being in Kruger, quite a rare feat, and one that I had not accomplished in over three months of game viewing in Africa.

At Satara, I left with half the group at 8 p.m. to go on a night game drive. We saw some unique animals that I had not seen before, including a porcupine and a small cat called a gennet. We also spent some time with a clan of spotted hyenas, including an adorable cub. One of the hyenas was chewing on a bone: hyenas crush and eat bones and horns with powerful jaws and specialized teeth, and their dung is white from all the bone they consume.

Lioness in Kruger National Park, South Africa

We finished our drive at ten o'clock, ate a quick dinner back at the campsite, and were in bed by 11:30. We had to rise at four o'clock this morning to meet our vehicle at 4:45 for another game drive. As dawn broke, we came across three lionesses who were hungrily eyeing a group of nearby impala. One of the lionesses even stood up slowly and assumed a stealthy stalking position, but she would not attack because it was daylight. Lions rely on the element of surprise in tackling prey, and these impala were definitely aware of the danger nearby. They crossed the road near the lions methodically in small groups. Before each group crossed, an impala would give a loud barking sound as a warning reminder. As long as there were no stragglers, the impala were safe.

Vulture in Kruger National Park, South Africa

We returned to the campsite to meet the truck and make our way out of Kruger. But our luck had not run out yet. On the way out of the park, we saw impala, waterbuck, wildebeest, zebra, buffalo, warthogs, giraffes, baboons, elephants, ostriches, an African fish eagle, and an African Scops owl. We also saw a large group of imposing vultures feasting on a carcass. These huge birds have a wingspan of almost eight feet and are at their most impressive when swooping overhead. Then, the grand finale: our driver slammed on the brakes and pointed out a rare sight on the side of the road. A massive Mozambique spitting cobra was reared up in an alert position with its hood flared out. When the snake relaxed, its hood flattened imperceptibly against its sleek body, and the serpent slithered gracefully into the long grass. To make the sighting even more entertaining, a mongoose that had been watching the cobra crawled into the grass after the snake, sheepishly looking around as if it didn't want to share such a huge meal.

African Scops owl at Skukuza in Kruger National Park, South Africa

Mozambique spitting cobra in Kruger National Park, South Africa

The Tiny Country of Swaziland

Day 107: Mlilwane Wildlife Sanctuary, Swaziland

Yesterday we awoke at 4:00 AM and sleepily rode an hour in an open jeep with the freezing cold wind blasting us from all sides. Blankets were provided for the drive, but it was still very uncomfortable. We arrived at Hluhluwe-Umfolozi Game Reserve when it was just getting light, and we had a brief toilet break at the visitor center before our game drive. There was a covered patio area in front of the doors to the toilets, and bats were darting throughout the space. They were lightning fast, and I just ducked and ran to the door. When I was finished, I opened the door to leave and a bat almost flew in my face. I darted back out again and walked over to the jeep. The first animal we saw on the game drive was a white rhinoceros, the first one I've seen since Matobo National Park in Zimbabwe over six weeks ago. As the morning sun thawed us out, we saw giraffes, warthogs, impala, wildebeest, nyala, kudu, and quite a few zebras.

Two zebras nuzzling, Hluhluwe-Umfolozi Game Reserve, South Africa

Zebras, Hluhluwe-Umfolozi Game Reserve, South Africa

After the game drive in Hluhluwe-Umfolozi, we met the Nomad truck in the town of Mtubatuba and proceeded to a traditional Zulu village called DumaZulu. It was really touristy, and the villagers were obviously just actors, but it was still an educational facsimile of a real village. We learned about the language, crafts, and social system of the Zulu. Married women cover themselves with a beaded black garment and wear a red hat, while unmarried girls wear only beads to cover themselves. We met the fortune teller, who identifies herself by covering her face in red clay. She reads fortunes by throwing bones on the ground and interpreting the patterns. After walking through the village, we ended up in an outdoor theater area where we watched a Zulu dance, similar to the one we saw the night before in St. Lucia.

Married Zulu woman in DumaZulu Traditional Village in Hluhluwe, South Africa

Fortune teller in DumaZulu Traditional Village in Hluhluwe, South Africa

Nyala, Mlilwane Wildlife Sanctuary, Swaziland

From the village, it was slightly over an hour to the Swaziland border, and the crossing was quick. Swaziland is a tiny country enclosed on three sides by South Africa and bordered by Mozambique in the east. The entire country is about the size of Connecticut and Rhode Island combined. Three hours after crossing the border, we arrived at our campsite in Mlilwane Wildlife Sanctuary. There are no predators in the park, and nyala and impala wander freely into the campsite. When I went to the bathroom block from my tent that night, I walked right through a group of eleven impala.

This morning, we went on a game walk through the park. We saw a few zebra and the various common types of antelope we've seen a thousand times, such as impala, blesbok, and wildebeest. We came to some mud pits near the large lake, and we had to cross via slippery logs that had been laid across the sludge. At the lake, we saw a hippo and a few crocodiles sunning themselves on the banks.

In the afternoon, we went on a tour of a nearby village. The girls from our group had to wear sarong-like garments featuring an image of the Swazi king to show respect. The older woman who was the village's chief told us, through a translator, about their way of life. She showed us how they weave baskets using gourds as molds, balance large jugs on their heads, and crush maize into flour using a grindstone. The girls from our group joined the girls from the village in a dance, and then us guys had to join the boys in a dance. Before we left, some of the women sold us curios handcrafted in the village. At the end of our visit, all the children performed a farewell dance for us. This Swazi village is an authentic, functioning place and therefore much more fascinating than the Zulu village near St. Lucia that was developed for tourists.

A girl holds gourds in a village in Swaziland.

Children dance in a village in Swaziland.

Back at Mlilwane, I spent the rest of the afternoon photographing some of the colorful spiders that could be found throughout the campsite. After dinner, we watched a series of Swazi dance performances by some local dance troupes. These dancers had a greater variety of moves than the Zulu dancers in South Africa, who seemed to just stomp as hard as possible. Afterward, we sat in a trance around the fire, which has become the camping equivalent of a television.

Spiny orb-weaver spider, Mlilwane Wildlife Sanctuary, Swaziland

The Drakensberg and Zululand

Day 105: iSimangaliso Wetland Park, South Africa

Thursday we drove two hours from Malealea to the border crossing at Lesotho's capital city of Maseru. Two hours into south Africa, we stopped for lunch in the scenic Golden Gate National Park and enjoyed a picturesque view of the mountains. We continued to drive past ever-heightening mountains until we arrived at the campsite lodge in the Drakensberg. In the distance rose the imposing silhouette of the Drakensberg Amphitheatre, a curving sheer rock wall three miles long and up to 4,000 feet high. The bar and lounge in this campsite was probably the best I've seen in Africa. There was a jacuzzi in the bar, a rock climbing wall next to it, and a sauna in the adjacent room. The upstairs had a TV lounge and library. We spent the evening trying to tackle the difficult route from one side of the U-shaped climbing wall to the other.

Bushmen paintings in Royal Natal National Park, uKhahlamba / Drakensberg Park, South Africa

The next day, we drove into the nearby Royal Natal National Park, part of the uKhahlamba / Drakensberg Park World Heritage Site, where we did a series of hikes throughout the day. The first hike was an hour long: we climbed a hillside to an overhanging cliff that protected a group of 800-year-old Bushmen paintings. The Bushmen civilization has existed in the Drakensberg for at least 40,000 years. High up in the sedimentary rock that formed the cliff were some starfish fossils, indicating that this high elevation was under the sea millions of years ago.

The Drakensberg Amphitheatre in Royal Natal National Park, uKhahlamba / Drakensberg Park, South Africa

The Cascades in Royal Natal National Park, uKhahlamba / Drakensberg Park, South Africa

The destination of the second hike was the Cascades, and the easy trail had a view of the Drakensberg Amphitheatre to one side. Hidden somewhere in the shadows of this towering bluff was Tugela Falls, the second highest waterfall on Earth after Venezuela's Angel Falls. The sheer cliffs on either side of Tugela drop 3,000 feet to the ground. Unfortunately, we would not see the waterfall because it requires an eight-hour hike to get there. It only took half an hour to get to the Cascades, a beautiful series of drops ending in a deep pool in the middle of the forest. As we sat on the rocks with our feet in the cold water, some baboons appeared at the top of the falls and started making their way down towards us. I didn't even have time to put on my shoes before we retreated to safety – baboons have no fear of people and can be quite dangerous if you have food. I didn't have food in my pack, but some of the others did. The baboons stayed away from us, but they cornered two older women who were picnicking on the rocks. Eventually they scattered and left the women alone.

We got back to the truck after a short hike through the forest, and lunch was ready and waiting for us. After eating our sandwiches, we embarked on a long afternoon hike to Sunday Falls. We crossed vast fields of tall grass that blanketed the hilly landscape and had scenic views of the majestic mountains in the distance. We saw a few antelopes in the distance, and one woman saw a small snake slithering into the grass as we passed. After an hour, we reached the waterfall, which flowed into a lush forested gorge cutting between two grassy hills. It was impossible to get to the bottom of the gorge to see the falls from below, and the view from the top was uninspiring. We took a break by the stream at the top of the waterfall and then commenced the hour-long hike back to the truck.

Yesterday, it was three and a half hours to Durban, South Africa's third largest city and the busiest port in all of Africa. Durban sits on the Indian Ocean and is normally a great beach location, but it was pouring down rain when we arrived. Most of us spent the afternoon relaxing around the hostel – there is not much to do in the city anyway. The rain let up by dinnertime, and we went out to a seafood restaurant as a farewell dinner for the two passengers who were ending their trip in Durban.

This morning, we picked up eight new passengers, which increased our group size to fifteen. There are seven of us who have been on the trip since Cape Town. The new passengers also diversified the make-up of our mostly Dutch group: we gained an American girl, a British guy, a Canadian guy, a German girl, a Kiwi couple, and two more Dutch guys. We drove three hours to St. Lucia, also on the coast, where we embarked on a game cruise after lunch at the campsite. The cruise was on Lake St. Lucia within the World Heritage Site of iSimangaliso Wetland Park. We saw quite a few Nile crocodiles, a variety of birds, and tons of hippos.

Nile crocodile, iSimangaliso Wetland Park, South Africa

Hippos, iSimangaliso Wetland Park, South Africa

After the cruise, we returned to the campsite and watched a Zulu dance around the fire. The moves were extremely powerful – the dancers lifted their legs high into the air and then slammed their feet onto the ground as hard as they could. I could feel the vibrations through the hard earth from twenty feet away. After the dance, we ate dinner and went straight to bed; we have to rise very early tomorrow morning for a game drive.

Tsitsikamma / An Enchanting Mountain Town

Day 99: Hogsback, South Africa

Friday we drove from our campsite in Stormsrivier into nearby Tsitsikamma National Park, which stretches along the scenic and rugged coastline. We started hiking along the rocky shore, where massive, powerful waves thundered with huge explosions of spray and foam. The surf was among the most intense I've ever seen, and the breakers crashed into the rocky outcroppings with such force that sprays of water shot far into the air and the water near the shore turned into a churning cauldron of sand and foam. We continued walking through coastal forest trails, spotting a small antelope hiding among the trees. The forest opened up into another stretch of rugged coastline. The landscape here consists of shards of jagged rock jutting into the air at a 45 degree angle. There were no flat footholds: walking here required balancing on the angled edge of these rocks. After a couple of hours, we reached a waterfall cascading into a sheltered pool that empties into the sea.

Waves crash along the rocky coastline of Tsitsikamma National Park, South Africa.

Lush plant life thrives in Tsitsikamma National Park, South Africa.

On the return hike, we ended up splitting into a few smaller groups. I walked with two of the Dutch women, and we decided to take a pathway leading up and over a hill, avoiding the treacherous sharp rocks. After ascending an endless series of logs that served as steps up the mountain, we began to wonder if we would ever descend again. We had been hiking for too long to turn back, so we trudged along into the thickening woods. As we neared the top, sunbeams illuminated the forest floor, and the ubiquitous chirping of frogs and insects surrounded us in all directions. Unseen creatures scurried into the underbrush as we passed. Luckily, we did not encounter any snakes or other dangerous animals – leopards live in this area – but one of the other groups did run across a deadly puff adder basking on the rocks near the shore. We finally came to a paved road that eventually led back to the truck after a serpentine route down the mountain. I hungrily devoured the sliced meat, cucumber, and tomato sandwiches that have become our staple lunch. After lunch, we set off for another hike, this one much easier and shorter. We walked along a paved pathway, descending to a suspension bridge that crosses the mouth of the Storms River where it empties into the ocean.

The temperature plummeted into the evening, and that second night at the campsite in Stormsrivier was the coldest yet. I cinched my hoodie around my face and crawled deep into my sleeping bag. I stuffed my pillow inside, drew the sleeping bag over my head, and curled up in a fetal position, shivering from the cold. Eventually, my body heat warmed the inside of the sleeping bag, and I was able to rest for a little while, only to be woken up again by dogs barking incessantly throughout the night. In the morning, I could see my breath inside the tent, and I dreaded crawling out of my sleeping bag. A corner of my pillow that was left outside my warm cocoon felt like it had been in a freezer. I unzipped the tent and stepped out into the bracing cold. Wesley and I wanted to collapse our tent as soon as possible so we could warm up with some tea, but the metal tent poles were like ice. We had to warm our numb fingers by the gas stove before we could disassemble the poles.

As we rode toward Jeffreys Bay, the sun shone through the windows of the truck and thawed us out. Jeffreys Bay, affectionately called J-Bay, is one of the top surfing destinations in the world, and surf shops crowded the main street. As Chad had warned us that the temperatures would be even colder in the high elevations in Lesotho and the Drakensberg, we spent our time in Jeffreys Bay buying blankets, gloves, and hot water bottles at the mall.

A kudu in Addo Elephant National Park, South Africa

It was another two hours to Addo Elephant National Park, where we proceeded straight into a game drive in the Nomad truck. We saw the usual wildlife – kudu, warthogs, ostriches, an elephant in the distance – but we also saw eland, a large and graceful antelope, for the first time. One of the stranger animals that is fiercely protected in Addo is the flightless dung beetle. We saw a few of these insects rolling balls of dung in the middle of the road, and signs warn vehicles to watch for them to avoid running them over.

We camped for the night in Addo – yet another cold one – and then proceeded to Port Elizabeth yesterday morning. As we approached the city, the bay appeared as a calm turquoise sliver on the horizon. We dropped three people off in Port Elizabeth, decreasing our group to an intimate nine passengers. We continued another two hours and took a short break in the quaint university town of Grahamstown, where I enjoyed a lime shake at a fast-food restaurant. We had lunch at the side of the road by the Great Fish River and then drove the two-hour home stretch to Hogsback. As we climbed in elevation toward our destination, dry brush and thorny acacia trees gave way to lush, dark forests blanketing the hillsides of the Amatole Mountains. There was a majestic view of the surrounding countryside as we made the final ascent to the town.

A café sign in Hogsback, South Africa

Hogsback markets itself as a fairy tale forest setting, and artists who base themselves in the small community produce handiwork such as statues of fairies and gnomes. J.R.R. Tolkien, author of The Lord of the Rings, was born in nearby Bloemfontein, and the ancient forest is credited as inspiration for some of the iconic settings of Middle Earth. In fact, many of the locations in Hogsback reference The Lord of the Rings, such as Rivendell Camp Site, The Ring Liquor Store, and an outdoor education center called Hobbiton. Our campsite, Away with the Fairies, features buildings labeled Bag End, Bilbo's Rest, and The Wizard's Sleeve Inn. We set up our tents in a clearing surrounded by trees, and fireflies twinkled throughout the forest as dusk fell, adding to the magical ambiance of Hogsback.

A cottage at Away with the Fairies Backpackers in Hogsback, South Africa

View of the Amatole Mountains from Away with the Fairies Backpackers in Hogsback, South Africa

Despite the higher elevation, the climate in Hogsback was more temperate than down at the chilly coast, and I enjoyed a comfortable night's sleep in the tent. We spent most of today hiking in the Tyume indigenous forest, passing streams and waterfalls, dense patches of emerald green ferns, colorful mushrooms, and a massive 800-year-old tree. The forest reminded me of the Smoky Mountains in Tennessee, except for the monkeys leaping through the trees overhead. In the afternoon, we walked around the town, visiting the historic Hogsback Inn and an esoteric garden of fairy statues created by a local artist.

A fern in the Tyume indigenous forest near Hogsback, South Africa

Berries in Hogsback, South Africa

The historic 19th-century Hogsback Inn in Hogsback, South Africa

The Highest Bungee Jump in the World

Day 95: Stormsrivier / Tsitsikamma forest, South Africa

This morning we realized just how cold winter in South Africa can get. We suffered bone-chilling temperatures through the night in Knysna, and the cold, damp air blowing off the nearby water seemed to penetrate straight through my sleeping bag unless I completely enclosed the opening around my face. Many of the overland trucks do not run tours during the winter in South Africa because they consider it too cold for camping. But at least the sunny days thaw us out and keep us going. After packing up our tents and warming ourselves with some steaming tea, we traveled a short distance to the Heads, the two rocky promontories that shelter Knysna's calm estuary from the open sea.

The estuary from the Heads, Knysna, South Africa

The Heads, Knysna, South Africa

Although the scenery at the Heads is stunning, with the powerful waves crashing against the imposing cliffs, I was not focused on the moment. In an hour and a half, we would arrive at Bloukrans Bridge, the highest single span arch bridge in the world and site of the highest bungee jump on Earth! At a vertigo-inducing 708 feet above a rugged gorge that opens to the Indian Ocean, this jump is almost twice the height of the jump at Victoria Falls. After a terrifying experience at Vic Falls, I vowed never to bungee jump again, but I couldn't resist the challenge of the world's highest jump. Maybe jumping out of a plane in Namibia has made me a bit more courageous, or maybe I'm just dedicated to the gung-ho philosophy I have set for myself on this world trip. I am traveling the world because I want to get the most out of my time on this planet. I want to live without regrets. I quit my stable job to go on this trip – surely I can find the courage to jump off a bridge! I've done it once, and even though I didn't like it the first time, most things in life deserve a second chance.

South Africa's Bloukrans Bridge is the highest single span arch bridge in the world – © Face Adrenaline

The bungee jump platform on Bloukrans Bridge, South Africa – © Face Adrenaline

A bungee jumper on Bloukrans Bridge, South Africa – © Face Adrenaline

Standing on the edge of the platform, preparing to bungee jump from Bloukrans Bridge, South Africa

Of twelve passengers and three crew, only two of us dared to jump. Heleen, a Dutch girl who was also jumping, accompanied me to the registration office. We signed the necessary liability forms and headed to the harness-fitting area. The process at Bloukrans was much faster than the over-crowded affair at Vic Falls, which lasted most of the day – wincing as jumper after jumper plunged from that bridge only degraded any shred of fortitude I had left. At Bloukrans, I was standing on the edge of the bridge within thirty minutes of registering. The enclosed walk to that point of no return at the center of the bridge helped me to maintain my courage until the last minute; any grand, terrifying view of the gorge was obscured by the concrete supports of the bridge and the metal grating of the catwalk. The dizzying vista was not revealed until the final seconds, when I hopped to the edge of the platform, my feet bound together and tethered to the bungee cord. I gripped my toes around the cold metal edge of the platform as the intimidating depth of the chasm took my breath away. Three. Two. One. Adrenaline pumping, I bent my knees, spread my arms, and dove headfirst into the abyss, surrendering the last trace of anchoring comfort provided by that tiny metal platform.

One of the scariest things I've ever done – plunging towards the river 708 feet below Bloukrans Bridge, South Africa

Ascending to the platform after bungee jumping from Bloukrans Bridge, South Africa

I plummeted towards the Bloukrans River below at breakneck speed. The bungee cord stretched after only seconds, and I bounced back towards the bridge. For a brief moment of calm, I was weightless, and I caught a wedge-shaped glimpse of the deep blue Indian Ocean at the end of the gorge. Suddenly, I accelerated once more, the intense g-force pulling the blood to my head as the cord seemed to strain to the limit. I continued to oscillate in an ever-diminishing yo-yo pattern until I eventually equalized and came to a stop, dangling by my feet in the center of the immense gorge. I craned my neck to look up towards my feet so the blood wouldn't pool in my head. Soon, a man in a harness descended and hoisted me back up to firm footing on the bridge.

As terrifying as it was to jump at Bloukrans, I preferred it to the Vic Falls jump because I didn't twirl while suspended from the cord. Bloukrans was more about the intense yo-yo effect. In fact, the first bounce at Bloukrans is actually higher than the entire jump at Vic Falls. The initial fall is such a minuscule part of bungee jumping, as it lasts only a few seconds even from a height such as Bloukrans. This is the reason that I find skydiving to be much more enjoyable – the free-fall lasts for so long that it feels like flying rather than falling. Nevertheless, bungee jumping takes more courage than tandem skydiving. The height is more real and immediate, and it is incredibly difficult to work up the will to leap from that platform. In tandem skydiving, the instructor takes the plunge for you – you're just along for the ride. After successfully tackling the world's ultimate bungee jump, I don't feel the need to ever jump again. But I'll never say never.

It was a short distance to the campsite in Stormsrivier, and I felt drained after all the terror and excitement of the jump. In the afternoon, I embarked on a zip-line canopy tour through the ancient Tsitsikamma forest. Some of the trees there are over six hundred years old. For the second time today, I put on a harness, and we journeyed into the woods. There were ten zip-lines strung high above the ground between wooden platforms built around the massive trunks of some of the tallest trees. Any other day, I would have enjoyed zooming through the trees along these zip-lines, but jumping from that 708-foot bridge earlier had numbed my capacity to experience any thrill from these comparatively tame heights. I simply relaxed and enjoyed the tranquil forest setting. After we had crossed four or five of the lines, the wind began to pick up and the sky grew overcast. Half an hour before, there was not a cloud in the sky, so the change in weather took us by surprise. We felt a few cold raindrops that filtered through the dense canopy. We were now focused only on getting out of the forest before we had to contend with a downpour. As the wind grew stronger, the towering trees began to sway and creak, and we had to wait for a brief lull each time we prepared to glide across one of the lines. Every once in a while, we would hear a loud crack, and we had to be on the lookout for falling branches. We made it to the last zip-line just as the rain started falling, and we all quickly slid across and ran to the shelter of the waiting truck.

A zip-line canopy tour of the Tsitsikamma forest near Stormsrivier, South Africa