I have decided to take a trip back to Lesotho. Last time I went I had Alex with me and we pretty much stuck to the capital city of Maseru. Now I am going back alone, and this time staying at a lodge in the rural areas. I first heard of the Malealea Lodge from a guy name Darren that I met at one of our guesthouses we stayed at in Durban. Apparently what happed was some 20 years back the lodge was started by people in the rural village of Malealea and the surrounding villages because there were no jobs for people. Now all the jobs at the lodge are staffed from people from the community. I called about a week ahead of time to book a place to stay at the lodge, but those were the only preparations I made ahead of time. This was to be the first time I traveled alone on such a large scale, except for the time I traveled to NYC by myself.
***
Right now I’m in the taxi on the way to Maseru. Things went smoothly getting to this point, I just asked around Zonke to get the taxi to Johannesburg, then found the taxi rank to Lesotho on my own—I remembered it from the last time. Due to rising oil prices, the price of a taxi to Maseru went up R 140 to R 150 this time, but I’m still getting a good deal. I got really lucky this time and got one of those new, big taxis. I snagged a window seat with a lot of space right away—no way was I going to put myself through 5 hours of a cramped taxi ride in the back where 4 people have to sit. This taxi had seatbelts, and they wouldn’t let us leave until we had fastened them! That was the first time I had used a seatbelt in South Africa! Step one of Journey to Malealea Lodge complete. The fun part starts when I get to the border. Ok wait… the entire van prayed before we left the taxi rank in Joburg. Seatbelts and praying?? Is someone not confident we’ll make it to Maseru alive?!
***
Wow! What a day! We left Joburg at about 10:30am and I finally arrived at the lodge at 6pm! The sun was just getting ready to go down, and my goal the entire day had been to get to Malealea before dark. The trip into Maseru was fine, as I have done it before and I remembered how to get around. When I got to the border I went through customs correctly this time (hooray for not being an illegal immigrant!). I caught a 4+1 taxi to the taxi rank and attempted to find a taxi to Motsekoua. When I couldn’t find one I decided to talk a walk back to the marketplace where I hoped to find a familiar face. I finally found the guy I was looking for—he sold Alex and I T-shirts last time we were in Maseru, and he remembered me! He agreed to take me to find a taxi to Motsekoua and I bought another shirt to thank him for his help. They changed the taxi to Motsekoua a few times but each taxi I was riding in would just drive me to the new location in the rank each time. When I found the right one, I paid the driver R 17 and we were off—but not before he made me sit in front! When we got to Motsekoua I had to transfer to another taxi to get to Malealea. Sign—Malealea Lodge, only 33 km!
The taxi packed as many people as possible in an we were off. We kept driving father and father into the mountains. Soon I saw a sign—Malealea Lodge, only 22 km! We slugged our way over hills, picking up people off the side of the road and dropping them off. We drove through some of the most beautiful farmland I have ever seen. Fields hugged the edges of cliffs and below you could see tiny rivers cutting through huge canyons. Unfortunately the fields have all been harvested by this time, and brown stalks and dark red, tilled earth was all that remained.
The terrain started to get rocky and the mountains began to creep up around us. After what seemed like an hour of driving, I saw another sign—Malealea Lodge, only 7 km. We were getting closer! At this sign I transferred to another taxi waiting for us. The music was blasting so loud I couldn’t even think! I laughed to myself as I glanced at the taxi wall and saw a sign that said: “Certified to carry 15 passengers seated.” We had almost 20 people in the taxi and in all actuality it was standing room only. We started to climb up and up, and I saw a sign saying we were now entering the Gates of Paradise Pass. Almost instantly, as we came over a small hill, the taxi was hugging a small road on the side of the mountain! It was the first time in my life that I can actually remember my breath being taken away. What I saw must have been one of the most beautiful sights on this earth. Down below the fertile basin was filled with patchwork fields and small homes and huts. The setting sun splashed its last bit of light on the gigantic mountains in the distance (some covered with snow at the top!), their smooth, crinkled red surfaces dotted with shadows and a golden glow.
Up and down we went until we reached the end of the road and where I entered the Malealea Lodge. A small boy sitting outside the lodge greeted me with a warm smile and a wave. It was a nice gesture to brighten my weary self after I had literally been traveling all day. I entered the Lodge where I met Bokon who helped me get checked in. There was some mix up with my rooming situation, as apparently they were not expecting me until tomorrow and they had me in a super expensive suite hut. Thankfully we were able to fix it and now I have the basic Basotho forest hut with community bathrooms. It’s really nice, and I don’t think I would have needed all that extra stuff anyways. Bokon took me to my hut and I got settled in. I then walked through a small patch of forest and up a hill where I saw a local band and choir performing for the people at the lodge. I met some of the guys who work here doing the tours and who live in the village down the street. They were pretty cool, I might have one of them as a guide for my Pony Trek to the falls.
After listening to the music I went into the dining room to have dinner. When I got there I noticed that the tables were labeled by groups and families. I didn’t have anyone to sit with, so I asked a lone woman if I could sit with her. She couldn’t speak much English but she was more than happy to allow me to join her at the table. Soon her husband came to join us as well. Their names are Aya and Take and they are from Japan. They are on holiday for 3 weeks, visiting several countries in Southern Africa. We had a really good time at dinner. All through the meal we were laughing because we kept stealing bread from other tables for our lunch tomorrow and hiding it from other people. They were surprised when Take said the rice soup looked like miso soup and I said: “I love miso!” They asked me about my work in South Africa and I asked them about theirs in Japan. Aya is a house wife and Take teachers Japanese at a high school. After the main dish was served—pap, spinach and corn, steak, and banana bread with custard, I said goodbye and came back to the hut to write. The power goes out at 10—the huts only have power from 5 to 10pm because of a generator. When the lights go out everything will be dark, and you’ll be able to see every star in the Southern hemisphere.
No comments:
Post a Comment