Appologies for the delay.... work has kept me too busy :eek7:
Anyways... After deciding to not stay at the overpriced hotel, we drove a few kms further down the road, and came across an abandoned B&B. We were let in through the gate by an old chap who pointed the way to the old reception. We parked our scoots and no sooner, a lady came out to ask what we wanted. We chatted to her about pitching our tents, but she wouldnt budge and insisted we pay for as room. By this time it was getting dark and i was a little more than concerned about my bike. So we haggled for a bit then settled on an exorbatant price of R200 for the room.
ot:
We wheeled our bikes around the building and onto the verhanda right outside the door. After unloading all our kit, i set about pulling my bike apart in search of the problems i had been having since the morning. Out came the multimeter, checked evry wire within site for any hint of a dodgy connection or lack of continuity ect. Turned out that my battery was recieving no charge through the rectifier. And seeing as i didnt have a spare one to test it with i figured my safest option would be to replace it asap. DAve had nipped off in search of something to eat, and bless the lad, he arrived back in good fashion with a tub of KFC and cold coke. After stuffing my face, i put the old gal back together and chatted to dave about heading back into Piet Retief to see if i could get a new rectifier and replace the battery while i was at it if need be. Had a surprisingly hot shower and hit the sack fairly early.
Sadly i didnt take any pics of the place we stayed at. Was too busy fretting about my scoot, which in hindsight was kinda pointless as i couldnt change the situation and should have just sat back and taken a breather...lesson learned
Day three: After a rather sleepless night thanks to Daves epic snore, we got up early and packed the bikes. I pressed the go button.... and no sign of life to be had on this misty morning. :xxbah:
Dave suggested jump starting her, but i couldn't have been bothered with digging out my toolbox from my rucksack again, so i opted for a push start. After the second push from a rather out of breath and red faced Dave, she roared into life and off we went on our way to Piet Retief and a new rectifier. Another painless Border crossing, and a short dash up the N2 brought us into town for an early breakfast at the wimpy. We arrived into the parking lot and i was hoping to find a spot near enough to where we would be sitting so i could keep an eye out for all my kit tied to the back of my pony. As i was having a squiz around a fella in a cage pulled out, right in front of the door, so i jumped off and asked dave to bring his bike over. As he was walking to his bike a lady in a cage pulled in and drove straight at me. Never mind that i was jumping up and down and waving my arms at her like a nutter, in an attempt to suggest that this parking spot was soon to be taken. I think she must have been short sited cause she just kept on coming and i eventually had to jump out the way to avoid being knocked over. ???
She then jumps out and not very softly under her breath mutters something about bloody bikers and who do they think they are and do we think we are in a class of our own. with a few expletives thrown in for good measure, but seeing as this is a family show dear readers i will spare you the horrors of such early morning vulgarity from that F&^king woman.
With contented stomachs we rode off in search of a bike shop, and a dirt road we heard about from the very nice manager, who i must admit, for an older woman (only in her early 40's mind you), was damn foxy :mwink:
We came across a workshop owned by a very decent fellow by the name of Andre. The chap had a fiddle about and it was eventually determined that the alternator was not giving out enough charge for the battery. If i did a long ride the small charge should have been enough to keep me going, but as soon as i had any stops and starts etc, perhaps over rough terrain or for when i fell off in the soft sands Mozambique has to offer, i would be buggered in terms of getting her started again. The battery appeared to be a bit dodge as well so i opted to replace it on the spot. He didnt have a new rectifier in stock and a new one could only be had in a weeks time. I couldnt wait, so had to make do with the one i had for now. We sat about for a bit and had a good chat over coffee. Dave wandered off again to have his map laminated, and i stayed behind to chat and perve at the lass who arrived on her scooter to fit a new number plate.
Dave eventually came back to the workshop, and here we parted company. shortly thereafter i got back on my bike and she started first time. So with a big thanks to Andre for all his help, and a smile from the scooter lady that made my day, i set off for swaziland yet again, with high hopes and more than a few prayers to the Gods of adventure riding to get me to mozambique without any hassles....
The view from my roadside stop on my way through Swaziland. I really loved riding through here and hope to make it back there someday and explore it properly
With somewhat frustration at the sheer lack of enthusiasm of efficiency by the SA border officials i eventually rode into Swaziland and spent a great, bike trouble free day winding my way along great roads slowly making my way to the Mozambique border at Namaacha. The border post on the Swazi side was very laid back and everyone moved in that typicaly sedate pace of Africa. 100 meters down the road on the Mozambique side was sheer chaos. Stepping through the invisible line between countries can only be described as an assault on the senses. Every man and his mangy dog is out in force, screaming and shouting at each other, trying in vain to be heard above the noise of the crowds and vehicles. The sudden appearance of poverty and lack of dustbins almost comes as no surprise, but its that sudden transition into a new culture and mindset that catches you off guard, and leaves you wondering where the exit to the rabbit hole might be. Surprisingly though, the officials were friendly enough and i made it through the border with no dramas, or having to pay any bribes to a beastly cop in need of lunch money.
It took me about two hours or so to get into Maputo. A quick stop at the toll gate and an irrate truck driver hooting at me while i dug out my 18 mets led me into the heat and sheer madness of the Maputo driver mayhem. Its every man for himself, i tell you. Come to a traffic circle, and best say your prayers before making a dash into the directionless flow of busses, trucks, delivery vehicles, the odd maniac on a scooter and all the cage drivers out to get you.
I eventually found the Hotel that my client was staying at. We had a brief meeting and then i was off to find my hotel that i was to stay at during my shoot in the city. What a hovel!! :eek7: A tiny room with a broken aircon, and no fan of any kind. Man oh man... i must have lost about 10lbs in that little sweatbox. It was right on the corner of a busy intersection and needless to say, over the next few days i was not expecting to get much sleep.
The shoot was simple enough. To wander about the city and to capture images that showed Maputo as a city in the throws of expansion and doing its best to join in the modern Africa.
Here are a few pics from the city. I cant post the main pics i took for my client here.... its a contractual thing!
After a week in Maputo i was more than ready to be on my way........