Mantis and Moon: a love story like no other

South Africa, a rainbow nation they call us, a place full of vibrant diversity that we are proud to embrace and be a part of.

"Until 1994, the country was known for apartheid – white-minority rule. South Africa's remarkable ability to put centuries of racial hatred behind it in favour of reconciliation was widely considered a social miracle, inspiring similar peace efforts in Northern Ireland, Rwanda and elsewhere."

When I decided to settle in South Africa for a few years, I made a promise to myself that I would explore every hidden gem, and all of her corners that burst with treasure. Places so easily passed by if your eyes have not been cleansed and renewed. Places that majority of South Africans never venture to with the curiosity of a child and the appreciation of a foreigner. It is so sad to see how so many people have lost this great appreciation and admiration of this gorgeous rainbow nation, because it is so colorful in many different ways.

I don’t see a country stricken with poverty and unemployment, I don’t see a country burdened by a racial history and an uncertain future, no, I see a country rich and glowing with experiences and adventure, with culture and art. I see people so beautiful and wholesome, so filled with innocence that is mistaken for ignorance. I see opportunity, and growth and a unity so magical, I am proud to be a part of it.

Rachel, who is one of my favorite travel buddies, decided it was time for yet another open road journey to one of our favorite destinations, the South Coast.  We had both been feeling so drained by the conformists and people around us, that we needed a re-charge if you will. We longed for a dose of new energies that can come from adventure and appreciation alone. To go somewhere with no expectations from the place or from us, to just revel in the beauty of something natural without having to be anything but a presence in the scenery. So we chose Mantis and Moon backpackers.

From the moment we arrived to the moment we left, we felt at peace. A place hidden in an ordinary street, built inside an oasis of beautiful trees. Tree houses, so unique and built with such individuality and love, we could not have chosen a better place to let go of all of life’s burdens and regain new stamina for the months ahead.

We were met by friendly and unpretentious people from all walks of life. Feeling immediately at home, we began getting to know the staff, each with different characters and from different parts of the world, it was a breath of fresh air from the usual smog we find ourselves wrapped in daily. It was as if I could see each of their beautiful souls shining all around them, no social expectations and no judgmental stares. This place was a secret that we are so fortunate to have stumbled upon.

We took a sunset tour with a local named Ryan, who from all angles grabbed my attention in a heartbeat. A local, with so much passion for the place he was from, and so much knowledge about the surrounding areas and the people in it. He restored so much of my faith in South Africans, as I am openly sad to admit, I did not have much prior to meeting him. Of course I am talking generally (and oh how me of all people despises such a word) but he was the exception, the exception that re-ignited my hope from a small flame into a dancing colorful bonfire. He took us to a local village, that many would not go to without a guide, for obvious reasons of it being someone else’s land, and trespassing is trespassing no matter which culture you come from, and two, because of the negative stigma that surrounds such wonderful places. With a backpack of refreshments, and my camera in hand, I found myself the perfect spot with the most breath-taking view, I could not have conjured something like this up without a good bottle of tequila and maybe some special green tea, it was magnificent. I sat there, absorbed in the present moment, with no thoughts of the next day or the day before, just there, totally one hundred percent present in everything the moment had to offer, I was blessed beyond any words description, to be able to see the view I saw that evening. Surrounded by local village children who were so fascinated by the texture of my hair, and the abilities of capturing a moment on a camera, I could not have chosen a better way to end my day.

I wish I could tell those children, no camera can capture a moment that is felt and experienced in the present by your heart. No camera will ever express an image that is not only seen with the eyes but absorbed in the mind and soul. In fact nothing will ever be able to be appreciated if you are not there yourself, present, in that one single moment, that goes by in minutes but if properly absorbed seems a lifetime.

Mantis and Moon has something very special to offer any traveler, it offers purity, it offers untainted rawness of life, and is best felt if you go there yourself, because no photo, no story and no description will do that oasis of soul food the right amount justice. Owned by two very wonderful people, and run by a diversity of people who will ensure you are not left unchanged. If you are already like Rachel and myself, and have found your essence, this is a place to go and regroup, rejuvenate yourself and regain all your positive energy needed to continue on in your walk of life.

South Africa, a love story of sadness and hope, a country that may seem burnt and baron but if you never take the time to look a little closer, but rather rushing off to find new lands, you will never notice the new fresh green buds popping up all around you, all you have to do is look a little closer. Mantis and Moon can help you see it if you are unable to see it for yourself, but don’t worry, after a few wholesome experiences, not even a trip to the shop for some groceries will be same.

Are Hippos really that sweet?

WANDERLUST, is there a cure?

Have you ever woken up and said to yourself “There has to be more to life than this, I am sure I am missing out”.

Sometimes my stories make sense, and the content has a planned introduction, body and conclusion. Then some days, like today, it’s just a collection of thoughts and feelings jumbled into some form of order.

I have had this blog conversation with myself over twenty times in the last few weeks, and I thought if I don’t write it down and get it out of my mind, I may just drive myself crazy.

They don’t call it the travel bug for nothing. It isn’t some cute nickname they came up with over a pint of beer. It has meaning, and over the course of my life and its different stages or attempts at staying in one place, I have grown to wish they could come up with the anti-biotic to cure it.

As I sit out here, in the beautiful African Bush, listening to the birds and watching the sunset, I try to cure myself of this “bug”. In between swatting flies, and writing these sentences down in my journal, I look up and try to absorb all the wonderful elements around me, enough to fill this space inside my chest that burns with desire to continue exploring the world. I truly think I am sitting in the middle of the most gorgeously sense tickling place on earth, watching the jackal and elephants continue about their daily business and I curse this bug for making me feel like this is not enough.

It has been almost two years since I came back to Africa, and in those two years I have moved twice. This is pretty good going for me, who seems to usually relapse with the travel bug every three months. This time I am fighting the biggest internal battle of whether I can cure this on my own by challenging my spirit with the logic and reasoning of my head or if I am going to just give in, once again to the ludicrous nature of my wandering spirit. Although, since I do love it here so much enough to try and find a reason to saturate my desires to be free and travel, as well as remain, I have been forced to do some extensive research on how to continue travelling and backpacking without giving up all I love out here in Africa. Besides I also have two dogs, and I could never leave them behind. (but I was desperate enough to consider taking them with me, and if you are in that same situation maybe you will find this helpful http://www.nomadicmatt.com/travel-blogs/how-to-travel-with-pets/ )

For anyone else who is battling to balance a new life of settling and filling that empty hole of desire to travel, I have found a few things that may help you get by. During my desperate search for an answer, or help on the way forward, I came across a website: http://www.helpx.net/

I began really thinking, can I have both? Can I have a home, and a city I call my rest stop before my next adventure, and can I make this permanent? I believe with websites like this, I can. There is a chance to go away for three months and live and work in all these different countries for free accommodation and food. Most of them have programs, like the one I have signed up for in India, where you start your morning at 4am and do meditation and yoga, then you work for four hours picking flowers and threading them, or picking fruit and then you have your afternoon off to explore the local community. You are expected to live and comply with the host family’s rules, and personally being that I enjoy getting to know the people, culture and food the best, I could not think of a better way to backpack.

To saturate my desires, I have also started a real live Pinterest board, where I can physically pin up the things that make me happy, that fill my heart with all the things I love. It mostly is just random words, or pictures, but I felt by physically putting them up, I have set myself a goal, and am no longer saddened by the thought of not being able to travel, but excited by the prospect of setting the date, of working towards the goal. I spend an hour a day researching where, how, why. I have not limited myself and decided if it is a year of pure backpacking I need, then that is what I will work for. The next trip will be Cambodia, Thailand and Malaysia, and I will be going together with my husband, as he has expressed a desire to travel too, and has not had much of a chance. Then my solo trip to India for my 30^th is just around the corner, and I have a lot of mental preparation to do for that, as I have signed up to work in a temple and live with the family who runs it.

I am starting to realize that when I have this incurable urge to pack up whatever I can fit into my old faithful suitcase and go explore, I can do it mentally first, and instead of hopping on the next plane with no plan, I can give myself a few moments to reflect on what I want to gain, and what part of me I want to grow, or mature through the next trip. For now, it is to learn how to find a balance, and by no means should it be difficult, as I do not work the typical 9-5 job in an office (which by the way would kill my soul in less than a week). After I have learnt to find a healthy balance that doesn’t involve returning to my previous nomadic lifestyle 100%, I would like to be able to learn how to call one place home. A place where I feel a genuine attachment too, because after so many years of having no attachment to anything materialistic and no hold on to anything gathered, it has become too easy to pack up and head off to new horizons.

For now I will enjoy the lions vocalizing at night, and the ever changing dynamics of African Bush life. We are headed to Bali in November, and traded in the hotel option for a place in the Ubudu Forest, and in between we will continue to explore South Africa. In the meantime we are doing thorough research on the year backpacking through Asia, as well as establishing where we want to “settle”, and I put it in inverted commas because to be honest, I don’t think I can ever truly settle, it will be a matter of time again until I need new scenery.

Feel free to write to me, and tell me about your experiences you have had while travelling, and maybe a bit of insight on how you have managed to transition from traveller life to settler life, or if you have not managed at all and are still at it. Then again maybe, you are just like me and are trying to find the perfect balance.

The Bush Bubble

I have been exposed via social media, to the reality of  life in the cities of South Africa, and have found myself going to bed with a head full of negativity. Reality or not, I prefer not to indulge in the news, and take the ostrich stance on it all, by burying my head in the bush bubble.

While most of you that read my blog, and follow my stories, are constantly faced with day to day happenings, as well as the pressure of regular city life, I am daily awoken by the sounds of a hippo, a hyena or a lion. I do feel that by sharing my stories and my inner thoughts or perceptions, I may in some way be making a small difference to the world. Whether it is by bringing a smile to someone’s face with one of my light hearted reads, or by educating people on the beauty that not only Africa has to offer, but South Africa, I am certain that even the tiniest bit of a difference is better than no difference at all.

So with all the recent negative light being shed on our beautiful country, I feel it is time to share some colorful positive light in there too.

Just a few days ago, I was graced with the presence of a family made up of a wife from Sweden, a husband from England and a daughter, who’s heart, I am certain was once in Africa in a previous lifetime. This young girl who tended to veer away from strangers and stick to herself, was in a world of her own, and this world was filled with African animals and so much knowledge about them gained in factual books. She had spent months reading all about our landscape and its creatures prior to arriving, because this is what inspired her the most. The sparkle in her eyes when she chatted to the ranger about the different species, and facts surrounding them, was something magical to see. In a world full of negativity and pain, this was definitely an absolute delight for me to witness.

Each drive with this family was filled with laughter, jokes and animated commentary of the animals we saw. At one point Helena (The Swedish wife) and myself were watching this spotted eagle owl sitting in the middle of the road, his expression was one that made us giggle. (If owls even have an expression).  His face was all scrunched up like an angry English police officer, and the fact that he was in the middle of the road only created a perfect scene for a few animated comments. With my best British accent I started off with a “AH Good evenin’ folks, and what would you be doin’ drivin’ around at this time of the night’?” to which Helena followed cue with a “I’m gonna hafta check that you haven’t been drinking or nuthin” at this point, the angry faced owl turned away from us and I just could not help myself “Ey Jerry, what ya think? These folk been drinkin tonight?” as he turned to face us again, the angry look on his face seemed much more severe and I had to continue with what we had started. “Ey, are you mockin’ me, d’ya think this is funny”. Well that was it,the whole car was in stitches. Even though I cannot recall the exact detail of the entire made-up play write, the memory of laughing so hard that my stomach hurt, will never leave my mind.

These are the moments I refer to as my Bush Bubble, the place I bury myself in when it all gets too much. I either go on a game drive, or write a story about one of those pure and usually funny moments, or i just sit and remember them with a few solo giggles. Sometimes i wish i could look at the world with the eyes of that little girl, and see what she sees. The innocence and purity as well as the untainted bush bubble she lives in must be something spectacular, although with a little reminding, i am able to enjoy just a glimpse of it, and i am almost always sure to write it down.

Sitting here now, watching the much needed rain drip down my window, I smile to myself remembering that it doesn’t matter where you come from or who you are, a connection is made none the less. We are people, and culture, birthplace or color do not separate us or create barriers. We create those barriers, society creates those barriers, and the news only fuels it. I will never forget that family, nor the joyous time I had with the three of them. I had only known them for three days, and I will probably never get to see them again, but I made a friendship with a woman who I had only known for a few minutes, and the friendship will either dwindle or I will have the opportunity to connect via social media. Regardless, the memories have already been created and the moments were so valuable, and I am so grateful to have had them. Two different women from totally different places were able to create a friendship in just under five minutes. It was Africa that brought us together and brought out the best in us, it was Africa that opened our eyes to the beauty in others by showing us the beauty in her. Africa certainly is the mother of us all, and whether you are a visitor or born here, we are all children of the land. Ubuntu – We are one! Stop Xenophobia!

Dutch on your doorstep

Melkstal

Hidden in the gems of Tulbach I found myself amidst the essence of tranquillity created by not only the breathtaking surrounding mountains that the melkstal was nestled in, but also by the hospitality poured out from the heart by both Frank and Adele who  are the owners of Melkstal.

Tulbach came to be In 1699, when Governor Willem van der Stel visited the valley at the foot of the Winterhoek mountains, and named it "Land van Waveren" in honour of the Waveren, a prominent Amsterdam family to whom his mother was related. At that stage the area was part of the district of Stellenbosch, but on 11 July 1804 it was proclaimed a separate district with its drostdy at Tulbagh.

Almost immediately Willem van der Stel began to allocate loan farms to landless Dutch families and by the mid-1700 the area had become a prosperous farming district more commonly known as Roodezand. In 1743 the Roodezand Dutch Reformed congregation was established, and its church was completed in 1749. The village which inevitably grew up about the church was formally established in 1795, and was named in honour of Ryk Tulbagh, former Governor of the Cape, 1751-71. Lichtenstein visited Tulbagh, which he still called Roodezand, in November 1803, and was much impressed by its inhabitants who: "... owing to their frequent intercourse with Cape Town, have more civilization than the distant colonists, are more active and industrious, and more attentive to their own interests. There is more taste about their houses, more luxury at their tables, the wives and daughters are better clothed, and they make some pretensions, not wholly without reason, to polish and education ..." In 1817 the Rhenish Missionary Society established a station near the village. The 1865 census indicated that Tulbagh had a population of 542. In 1875 this number had risen marginally to 548, and in 1891 it was 659. By 1904 it stood at 796.

In July 1822 the village of Tulbagh was all but destroyed in a storm. As a result the seat of its drostdy was transferred to Worcester and its district was renamed accordingly. On 9 March 1848 Tulbagh was proclaimed a separate division, and in May 1889 the greater part of its eastern lands was given over to the new division of Ceres. The economy of the region was based primarily upon the production of grain and wine, although the income of many farmers was also supplemented by the manufacture of farm wagons and carts. This is what I know to be the start of this quaint and heavily Dutch influenced little town.

After a lovely lunch I was fortunate to steal a few hours of Franks time where I became enticed with the history of the melkstal as well as a few delicious extra tidbits on how he and Adele met and came to fall In love. Frank explained that he had just visited Tulbach briefly and he needed no more than that moment to know that this was where he wanted to be.

From the local grapevine he discovered that a deal had gone what we would refer to as a little pear shaped, on a place down the road, and I guess he was just at the right place at the right time, because the owner was willing to sell it to Frank. Disgruntled by the first deal, Frank was given only a short amount of time to transfer the funds for the melkstal and guarantee his permanent residence in the little town that stole his heart.

As all stories with a happy ending, Frank DID seal the deal,and him and Adele moved in to begin their next chapter together. Being that the melkstal was originally a milkshed on a beautiful piece of land, the natural thought would be to purchase a few cows, and indulge in the beauty of farm life.

Adele had explained to me upon my arrival, that they used to live in their caravan on the concrete slab they built just in front of the milkshed,which has now become the patio where you can sit and unwind while enjoying the natural sounds, that tickle your ears and numb the stresses of day to day life. After selling their cows Adele and Frank turned the milkshed into a gorgeous self catering guest house.

Now of course I have left out a few minor details about the process of transformation, but the one significant part of the transformation was that they also built themselves a house on the land,a few meters in front of the milkshed.

My first day I spent my afternoon fishing in their dam, where i managed to catch not a badly sized carp. Of course I released it, and did a little victory dance, but when I looked around the dam and the surroundings all my senses were drawn to the magnificent scenery and I forgot all about my victorious catch for just a moment.

That moment felt like a lifetime,I did a full three sixty on the spot and just absorbed all the beauty that enveloped me. Time stood still, and for just a minute I felt completely peaceful. All my senses were heightened, and it's as if in that very moment even the hairs on my body were trying to absorb all that mother nature had to offer.

I could have been part of an oil painting on a wall, still, quiet and frozen in the picturesque landscape of mountains, lightly dusted with sunsets golden rays. In the very next second I was pulled back to reality by the sound of a fish jumping in the dam and decided I would continue the competition of trying to catch the most fish for the afternoon.

I consider myself lucky to have been connected to nature long enough to remember every detail, as well as short enough to still appreciate it. The best part of these short weekends away to the magical places South Africa has to offer, is realising I really don't need to go far in order to feel like I am experiencing something new. There are so many places rich in beauty and culture right on my doorstep.