Archive of BMW Motorrad Club Cape (2006 - 2019)

Me, My Boy, Mozambique and our bikes. Day 1. Sunday 28th June. Johannesburg to Marloth Park (Kruger Park) Probably the worst 2 hours of the trip was on the board the SAA flight from Cape Town to Johannesburg on Sunday morning. My son Stuart(19, a 16 month GS1200 veteran!!) had celebrated his girlfriend’s birthday the night before and hadn’t been to bed so even the tight airline seats were a blessing for him. Our bikes, GS Adventure and GS1200 were waiting in The Big Smoke, efficiently couriered up by Craig Webb - awesome service guys. After a hearty breakfast with family, some packing and some more sleep for Stuart we took to the Gauteng roads at 1pm. Being a Wintery Sunday the Gautengers were cocooning behind their vast security walls, traffic was sparse and we quickly made our way out of suburbia. Four and a half hours of great uneventful highway riding and beautiful twisting roads down into the Lowveld saw us arrive in Marloth Park, Southern part of the Kruger Park. With a setting sun the bitter cold had started to weave its evil way through to our bones ... just to add a twist, 12km of dirt road unexpectedly rose up before us, sent to test our novice sand riding abilities. The accommodation in Marloth Park is private homes, basic, but well fitted they lead directly into the park. A steak braai whilst over-looking the Crocodile River was a great way to spend the 1st night. Accommodation - R400, food courtesy of the Nelspruit Spar – R110 Day 2 Marloth Park to Who Knows Where The all too magical call of Fish Eagles woke us. The early start had a fresh winters mist accompany us along the short ride to Komatipoort. We had heard the post can be pretty busy ...”pretty” wasn’t the word I would have used to describe the queue that greeted us, from over laden 4 X 4trailes to rust buckets that wouldn’t be out of place in Paternoster made up a 500m snake of flustered humans. Under the stare of everyone we idled our bikes up to the admin building. Here we were met by Carlos-the-fixer, for a mere R100 each we were escorted through the fiasco and 20 minutes later we were in Mozambique. I looked back at the queue of human misery as we left border, I thanked Carlos’ mom for having such a fine son!!! Riding into Mozambique was immediately different, roads were still good but the sense of being out of “civilisation” is tangible, almost instant, it’s difficult to describe but as we went further into Moz this feeling intensified. I thought of all you guys who had been deeper into Africa – I began to understand the appeal. The wine label “Goats do roam “clearly acquired their name from the Mozambique roadside!!! Maputo at 9am is special, no meandering between the lanes of cars, there is no space, and 2 lane roads become 4 lanes of cars. Never mind bumper to bumper ... its door handle to door handle stuff. The road into Maputo is heaven compared to the 20km leaving the capital, throngs of people, cautious goats and rangy dogs compete for road space with over burdened busses, taxis and cars. It’s a bustling throng of humanity moving like two currents that in some miraculous way never collide. The sidewalks of the road is a foot of powder sand ... we weren’t leaving the road surface for anything! Save for having to swerve a pregnant woman carrying a newborn we broke free of the hustle and bustle of urban Mozambique and onto the E1 North to Xai Xai. With no set destination we were to ride for as long as we felt comfortable. We had agreed to religiously abide by every speed limit, this tested our resolve at times as the 80km then 60km restrictions come thick and fast. It was phenomenal to see the thousands of school kids we saw walking along the sides of the roads in every village, apparently such is the enthusiasm to learn that they have two shifts of school every day. Rural Moz was great, the land is flat and it seems like you can see forever at times. Fellow road users of the local variety are pretty special, the first rule of the road is simply to ignore all rules (except speeding) and expect the unexpected. This seems to be a great concept as we never encountered one accident. We passed through Xai Xai and started coming up to convoys of SA holiday makers. It was astounding to see so many CA cars, outnumbering the Gautengers actually. Nice to get hoots of encouragement (or jealousy) from them as they saw our CA plates. The road from Xai Xai is terrible, the Chinese are currently repairing the road they built so badly 15 years ago, potholes everywhere. Normal sedans had to work their way through a maze of potholes, sometimes having to reverse to select another route. On the bikes it was a lot of fun, standing up and weaving between the holes was awesome. The SUV convoys were in their element too ...finally getting to us their over engineered suspension in real situations as opposed to racing over speed humps (I have one myself so I should know!). Passing on these roads requires a sixth and at times a seventh sense, the cars suddenly swerve into your path without warning, you actually have to look ahead of them and see the route they “may” take. But it’s all pretty safe if you keep you speed down and let them know you are there. On-coming traffic is somehow more considerate. Around 2pm and after about 500km we took the turnoff to Inhambane and headed for the coast and to find some accommodation and the much talked about Mozambique prawns. Dawdling our way through the town of Inhambanne I was again accosted by a wandering pregnant woman who strolled into my path, ABS saved her as I came to a stop inches from her swollen belly! ABS is now known as African Baby Saver in the region. My Garmin Zumo 500 guided us to Cassa Barry in Tofo ... although the pesky route designer took us along the beach road which would have challenged a Unimog. We soon stopped and in front of curious backpackers and locals smoking the local fare we had to work (dig push, dig push ... call local for assistance!!!) the bikes out of the sea sand and find the back road which wasn’t much better. Cassa Barry has an awesome open deck bar and restaurant, we could have sat there for a month. The giant tiger prawns were only half the reason- the view over the calm turquoise Indian Ocean being the other half. After 8 hours on the saddle under intense concentration the sandman forced us to bed at 9pm. The accommodation is pretty rustic but comfortable, the staff are very friendly and go out of their way to help. Accommodation – R650. Food (2 huge plates of tiger prawns, and breakfast) R450 (excessive but worth it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Day 3 Tofo to Inhassoro Another early start, this time in rain, rain and more rain. We refuelled just outside Tofo and took a slow ride through Inhambane. School children and more school children move along both sides of the streets, shortly after leaving Inhambanne we took the shortcut sand road to the E1 – alternatively we would have had to backtrack some 40km south to the E1. The red sand road was pretty hectic even when a bit wet, but attacking it at high speed made it easier going although this took some serious guts at times, our “novice sand” status was surely up to “average” after this test. A few 4X4ers were stunned at our pace and courteously made way for us , Capetonians again greeting us along the way. We still hadn’t seen a motorcycle since leaving Johannesburg!!!! Where are all the motorcyclists? Loved the road up to Maxixe and the next 80km, other than a few 80/60km irritations the great surface and stunning bushveld littered with Boababs was a dream to ride. Then we entered “hell”, a road with more pothole than tar ... the road was a joke, average speed dropped to 30km or 40km and it was like everyman for himself, the biggest vehicle has right of way ... even if this right of way is right in our way!!! With a steady downpour the potholes were little dams and a few intrepid locals were seen floundering in them. But the bikes handled it all without missing a beat, standing on the foot pegs it was like flying, even when an errant water filled pothole was unavoidable. One of the potholes stretched the width of the road and was easily half a meter deep. It had tripped up an overlander truck and we stopped to help the 15 wide eyed Norwegian transients to free the behemoth. Encouraging seeing groups of Chinese guys assisting the locals in filling the potholes. Patches of fairly good road was in dispersed between the potholed sections and they were welcome relief as standing for 50km at a stretch was getting tiring. We sailed past the Villanculos turnoff and the last of the convoys of SA 4X4’s, Villanculos is obviously a popular place for S Africans. Inhassorro came sooner than we wanted as we were in such a groove and felt we had another 300km in us for the day. After avoiding the obligatory pregnant wanderer in the main street we followed Zumo all the way to Dugong Lodge which is run by a Martin and Karen, a Zimbabwean couple who made us feel right at home. They later said they were shocked that we accepted the $54 a night accommodation cost because most bikers balk and head off to find something less expensive – which there probably is but I can assure you nothing with as much welcoming hospitality. We made ourselves at home in a comfortable, serviced, 5 bedroom bungalow. Then we joined our hosts for a great home cooked meal and soon we nestled under the mosquito nets and slept like ... well ... like very tired pothole overdosed motorcyclists. Day 4 to 11 Inhassorro Idyllic escape from the storms that ravaged the Western Cape, Inhassorro is a quaint seaside village that is only now beginning to feel the onslaught of the South African visitor. A sleepy town with few basic stores and a hand pump service station it is littered with some fairly colourful characters least of all is ... a small man who was born after his mom contracted German Measles (not a BMW affliction) his party trick was to climb up onto the running boards of parked motorists and let rip with a hearty RA TA TA TAAAAAA, his antics usually resulted in handfuls of Mets being handed over to him. Here is one guy who has embraced his affliction. My wife and our two other children flew into Villanculos and joined us in a private home 6km down-beach from the Lodge. Although bikes were allowed on the beach we didn’t take them down the beach and we let our trusty steeds spend the week being ogled by the many Zimbabweans who stayed at Dugong Lodge. They expressed much concern over the dirty state of our bikes. It took great pains to explain that the dirt is the equivalent of battle scars ... its why we ride. I’m sure once Robert M pops off this mortal coil and the economy acquires a sense of normality there will be a plethora of GS1200 buyers waiting for a BMW franchise ... Atlantic Motoraad Harare has a certain ring to it! C’mon Bob, drop dead – we wanna come ride Zimbabwe. Sadly Peter De Villiers spoilt the weekend with his pathetic team selection and game plan ... but let’s not go there. The Zimbo’s love the Boks as if they were their own! Day 12 Inhassorro to Maputo / Anchor Inn We left Inhassorro around 7;30am and decided to make as much ground as possible, other than the pregnant women attacking us in the various villages we had an uneventful 787km to Anchor Inn, 50km north of Maputo. Hmm all ok except for Officer Franco who stopped Stuart for speeding – there was no radar, no lines, no camera or any other official speed measuring device ... just Officer Franco’s repeated claim “joo deeedent storp imheedihately zho eet meeeeeenz joo wjhere schpeeding!!!” I asked how much the fine was and he said Mets1000 (R300), being a frustrated trader I suggested maybe he should consider Mets200,he gladly accepted the Mets200 note I left under a small stone on my top box. Ah Africa! Stuart (a novice in life at only 19) was really pissed off; it took a lot of road side counselling (ha ha) to get him to understand this African handshake method of settling speeding fines. After nearly 9 hours of pothole dodging and avoiding more impregnated pedestrians, patches of depressing squalor and the contrasting flashes of brilliant turquoise sea, the trip seemed to flash past. We were looking forward to getting back to South Africa. We decided against trying to traverse Maputo at peak hour and managed to get into Anchor Inn, a pleasant lodge 50km before Maputo although the 1km of deep sandy road did raise my heart rate somewhat. The food was amazing and we met more Capetonians on their way up to Tofo. We had pleasure in telling the Polo driver about the potholes to come! Accommodation R500.Food – full plate of prawns for starters and a peri peri chicken, Stu matched me with the prawns and had a spectacular steak – all the way from Swaziland R350. Day 13 Maputo to Kokstad via Swaziland Maputo at 6:30 reminded me of a Mad Max movie – The traffic was already backed up to 18km before the city centre. We were unsure of the etiquette and decided to stay in the traffic queue until a Honda Benley with three helmetless passengers passed us in the incoming traffic lane- miraculously the oncoming traffic moved out of their way and we soon tucked in behind the ménage etoi (my French not so good – I can’t spell it but I know how to do it lol) and made our way into and through the smog filled streets of Madmaxville. I am still astounded at the courtesy shown by the oncoming traffic, where busses, taxis and trucks simply moved into the sandy sidewalks to allow us a clear road. Perhaps we were tailing the minister of transport a(and his two deputies) on their way to work. The road to the border at Goba was a pleasure and we sensed SA, we broke our speed limit promise and tore through the passes. After 20 minutes at the border post and less than an hour through Swaziland we reached the SA border, 5 minutes of efficiency and we were blistering past Pongolapoort dam. At the first Engen we stopped to refuel and have a real breakfast (it will be braver men than us to sample the local village restaurant fare). At the Engen an Indian couple we had passed earlier on the road came to ask us where we had been riding from. We told them of our sojourn into Moz and how thrilled we were to back in SA. They both said that they saw a sense of freedom about the way we were riding when we passed them. It summed up the feeling we had of being back in SA. Great roads, petrol at petrol stations, road side food that didn’t try to crawl off your plate etc ... we have a great African country. We rode on through Richards Bay, Stanger, Durban and on to Wild Coast Sun. A great ride – and having just said we were pleased to be back in SA the SA taxis lived up to their usual standard. It was quite a strange feeling ... we never once felt threatened on the roads throughout the Moz trip, this however changed 100km into SA, it’s astounding how atrocious the drivers are on our roads and what poor road sense the pedestrians have, even rivalling the impregnated Mozambicans. Wild Coast Sun was full so we decided to press on to Kokstad, we took the road which runs parallel to the N2 and through Benene, With a setting sun directly into our eyes and road users with no respect for safety we were shattered when we finally reached Kokstad. We had 5 near accidents from stupid motorists and witnessed two in the 66km section. A BMW driver screamed past us and as he overtook a bakkie on serious blind, swooping bend ... and on a double white line he ploughed head on into a big black bull ... the road was awash with bull &$%£ and a large selection of used BMW body parts. A local traffic officer who was attempting to keep the 1 ton beast from wandering into the road merely shrugged her brass bedecked epaulettes and got busy on the radio to ambulance services. Later we came across an ambulance burning on the side of the road, our thoughts went out to the bull. Then frequently little cowards walking along the roadside mocked us by pretending to pick up a rock and throw at us ... it took all my resolve not to stop and beat some sense into him. I know understand the high death toll on our roads – I cannot put into words what that part of the trip was like. If you ever find yourself in that area please stay on the N2 ... I feared for our lives!!!! Day 13 passed .... Thanks to all the gods and God. We stayed at The Old Orchard (4star) in Kokstad, pretty cool place ... and it gets a fifth star cos Scooters Pizza does deliveries! It was minus 1 at 7pm. Day 14 Kokstad to St Francis Bay - 740km At 6:30 in the morning its minus 3.5 in Kokstad. We managed to ride the 5km to the Wimpy at the Engen outside the Town OMG it was cold. We waited until the sun rose above the Valley of 1000 Hills and began a cautious journey through the Transkei. We soon discovered why it’s called the Wild Coast, and it’s not because of the stormy coastline! It’s because it’s like the Wild West on the roads ... I have driven the route before and found it pretty hairy, riding it brought a whole new meaning to the word ‘hairy’. More accidents, one involving an ambulance none the less! If it wasn’t for the stupid drivers it would be a great ride, but that is anywhere I guess. The words “Think Bike” were on my mind every revolution of my bikes motor. Reaching the outskirts of Port Elizabeth returned us to a sense of normality, drivers were more sensible and the conditions improve. We had that same sense of freedom all over again. Save for the complete moron who drove his Hemi Chrysler past us so fast that I almost got off my bike cos I thought I’d stopped. We will make our way to Cape Town over the weekend of the 18th ... sad that the trip is over I will be spending the next few months organising a trip in November from Mombasa, via a ride around Kilimanjaro, through Tanzania, Malawi, Zambia, Zimbabwe and then homeward bound. Anyone interested in joining us to witness how I manoeuvre around pregnant women with much aplomb are welcome to send their CV’s! LOL. We leaving SA on the 28th November and will take about two weeks, we have a backup vehicle and the right attitude. Think Bike