Welcome surprises in Bulwer

During our previous Rainbow Gorge hike we were once again mesmerized by the idea of being able to paraglide off the mountain. What an epic treat that would be after working hard to get to the top! We googled paragliding in the Drakensberg when driving to the Sentinel. At first it was just an idea “Wouldn’t it be fun to do a paragliding course in the Drakensberg!” We quickly realized that it wasn’t only possible, but also very affordable. A two day intro course for only 170 euros and accommodation for 10 euros per night!

We contacted wild sky paragliding in Bulwer. Initially they answered that it would not be possible with our schedule, but we soon received a text saying they would be available on Monday. We would go conquer the Sentinel first and drive to Bulwer giving us four days before having to get back to Johannesburg.

After our adventures on the Sentinel, we spent a night at a random camping ground and got to Wild Sky paragliding lodge on Monday morning. We were instantly in love with the place. Run by Dutchman Hans Fokkens and his wife Ria, Wild sky seemed ideal for a grand finish of our trip. We had the whole wooden house all for ourselves. With a big yard and possibilities for fishing and maybe even a climbing crag up the hill we were awed by the gem we had ran into.

Wild Sky paragliding logde

Hans and Ria are very likeable people and after a hurried breakfast they were hasty about getting us under the gliders. Even though I had some previous experience of paragliding, Hans told us that it would be best to revise the basics with Joonas.

After skipping most of the chapters on an introductory dvd we packed the huge glider packs in Hans’ old 4x4 Mitsubishi and drove to the practice grounds. The lower slopes of Bulwer Mountain were ideal for a first day of glider handling. Running down the hill under the glider, we felt like chicken trying to fly. Hans was convinced of Joonas’ skills and we quickly climbed up the hill to get some air under us. It was all going well and catching a small thermal on my final practice flight, I soared a good hundred meters down the hill. I would have preferred landing on something else than thorn bushes, but I was still exhilarated by the feeling of flight while untangling my glider from the thorns. Hans said we would finish the day with some higher flights.

We drove back to the lodge and walked up to so called Rescue rocks. The take-off site was 120 meters higher than the landing zone. This was a drastic jump from our previous flights of some tens of meters! Even I hadn’t taken off from this height in New Zealand! Once again we had to trust our teacher’s judgement.

Laying down the gliders carefully and strapping in, we went through the five point pre-flight check. Glider facing the wind and lines clear, harness and helmet on and straps connected, wind direction ok, airspace clear, radio working. “Okay let’s go!” The wind had picked up and I needed to put my full weight against the glider to pull it up. Then it suddenly felt light again as I let go off the A-risers that help bring it up. The ground receded under me as a gust of wind took me to the sky. I am guided by the radio through some S-turns before landing some four minutes later next to the wind bag. Joonas follows after me and I watch him swinging through the turns like a pro. He lands like a feather and we celebrate our new skills. We fly once more and Joonas manages to catch some good thermals on the last flight extending air time to a full five minutes!

Run run! Push push! Lean lean!

The next two days are the only ones of rain during our trip. The gliders stay in the storeroom as we watch movies in the house. There’s something else though, flying in the air. The rain has apparently caused some kind of a hatching of flying thermites. The air is full of them! A good time to make use of our fishing gear. We had tried the larger of the dams the previous day with no luck. We head to the small pond just a few hundred meters from the house. Hans has told us there might even be some trout in it, but our enthusiasm is shattered as we find the pond shallow looking and full of weeds. Just as I’m suggesting to return to the larger dam, something breaks the still water surface.

It had to be a fish surfacing in the middle. Might as well give it a few casts. Joonas starts casting with his spinner as I get my fly rod ready. It must have been the second cast when Joonas shouts in surprise: “Hei äijä, mulla on kala!” He’s caught onto something! I recognize the fish from seeing it in a computer fishing game. It’s a bluegill! Hans told us there might be those around.

Joonas manages to catch another one before I get my gear ready. I have to change my fly, but once I got the yellow and orange streamer on my line, the fish start coming. We catch a fish on almost every cast and bring about a dozen of them to the shore. Keeping the five biggest, we decide to have a fish barbeque in the evening! Such a surprize from the little pond. Talking to Hans later, he is also amazed by our catch.

Catch of the day

The weather clears a little for Wednesday and we manage to get two more practice flights from another flying site close to Bulwer. Hans says that Thursday will be very good weather and we are putting all our hopes in that. We will have to leave to Johannesburg the same day.

Morning breaks crisp and clouds are still low. The temperature is nine degrees Celsius and drops to a frigid six as we drive up to the plateau of Bulwer Mountain, 300 meters above the landing zone. The Drakensberg even gets snow later in the season! Hans tells us that we might be able to do some ridge soaring. This is possible when the wind comes at a right angle against the mountain and is forced straight up by the cliffs.

Excited by things to come, we arrive at the flying site and see the wind bag sagging sadly in the still air. No wind. Hans is optimistic though and we set up our gliders. A small breeze of wind allows us to take off, but it is not enough to gain height and we are forced to fly down to the landing field. Walking back up takes 30 minutes and isn’t the most comfortable with a glider and harness on your back.

Hans suggests waiting for a half hour for the wind but I’m anxious. Taking another trip down and another hike up, I watch as Joonas follows suite. As I’m midway up the slope again, I see Hans flying his orange and black glider high above me. The wind has picked up and seems to be enough for some lift now. I hurry my pace and arrive at the top just as Hans lands next to me. My next flight is only half successful. Getting just enough lift to land on a saddle just 50 meters down from the take off site.

In our short flights of some minutes we have not yet found the true spirit of paragliding. Taking off and flying straight to the landing zone isn’t really the point. But the weather gods seem to be on our side as the wind starts blowing. Hans is smiling broadly as I hike back to the plateau. “The wind is perfect now! You need to go!”

Me soaring at Bulwer mountain. What an epic feeling!

I make a reverse launch and run down over the 10 meter drop of the cliffs. I feel the wind catch my glider. As if in a rollercoaster, I am accelerated upward by the rising air. Look, lean and break, I steer my glider to the left to maintain my distance from the ridge. The lift takes me higher and higher and I can’t help but laugh out loud. This is awesome! I giggle through the turns like a little girl, soaring back and forth along the ridge. After some minutes of flying, Hans guides me back down to the plateau for a top landing. No need to walk up anymore!

Joonas floating over the fields of Bulwer

Joonas goes for his flight but Hans quickly agrees that there is enough space for both of us. I haven’t had so much fun in a long time, as we fly in the sky racing each other along the ridge. The feeling of true flight is baffling and the views are awesome! A couple of times I get a little scared being so high in the air. Dangling under a piece of fabric, it’s a little absurd when you start thinking about it. We do some cool flybys and imaginary high fives yelling to each other in the air. “Heh! Mitä äijä!!!” We do a total of six ridge soaring flights with a good 45 minutes of airtime before we have to admit our need to leave. Driving in the dark isn’t fun but totally worth a couple of extra flights at Bulwer Mountain!

We land down in the valley and log our flights in our logbooks. Our gear is already packed and ready to go, so we have a quick lunch and thank Hans for everything, swearing to come back. This is definitely something we both want to continue doing!

Sentinel Peak, Angus Leppan route

Miki was feeling much better in the morning and our fears of malaria were evaporated by the rising sun. All the same, he wanted to get to Johannesburg and not climb the Sentinel. We agreed that he would take us to Durban and drive to Joburg the next day. So we took off toward the Indian Ocean again. As we arrived into the city, we quickly exited the first backpackers we randomly investigated. The owner was more eager to brag about nasty wounds in her soles than to show the rooms. Eventually we found ourselves in Happy Hippo which was big, cozy and imaginatively decorated. Beds in a dorm cost about 12 euros per person.

Taking a stroll on the beach in Durban

The original plan was to go diving with Sharks at Alley Wall; a very special spot for this kind of activity, but Joonas didn’t seem too eager after all and I was more interested in the mountains anyway. So we quickly abandoned the original plan and drove to the airport to rent another car. We were forced to surrender one of our team to the Babylonia (That’s what we called normal life) as Miki departed to Johannesburg. After enjoying a 5 second adrenaline rush at the Big Rush stadium swing, I and Joonas were also eager to leave the chaos of the city behind.

Joonas preparing to leap down

Conquering Sentinel peak was still in our minds and we decided to return to the Drakensberg. After getting some info from a climber at Bush and Buntu outdoor shop in Pietermaritzburg we drove to the border of Lesotho where the Mountain was located. Apparently a government owned cabin with bunk beds was located at Sentinel car park. “The road in in very bad condition!” – said a woman at the reception of a game lodge just before the road to Sentinel car park. It was already dark, but our options were limited. We decided to give our Datsun Go a challenge.

Stopped for some climbing action at Howick falls.
The route "Stage fright 6a" is on the red face just left from the falls

With me driving and Joonas checking our ground clearance with a flash light we slowly made our way toward the Mountain. Sharp rocks were sticking out everywhere and deep grooves made by rain water scarred the dirt road. We would have surely walked faster than we progressed on the first parts of the road. Constantly afraid of rocks screeching the bottom I drove in the darkness. The road was seven kilometres long and we only had to trust the words of ms. reception lady. “The beginning is the worst!” – echoed in my ears as I almost lost my hope getting stuck on a hill while avoiding head sized boulders. “We are not going back after making it this far” – I had to tell myself. After a deep sigh and some dodgy manoeuvres on the limits of our Datsun, we made it up. The road got slightly better and we were so relieved to find the yellow brick road at the end.

The cabin was very basic but we were happy to sleep in real beds instead of tents. The guards welcomed us in candle light and we quickly headed to bed. The peaceful atmosphere was nearing perfection as our dozing off was interrupted by two SUV:s blasting to the car park. Eager chatter, laughter and flashlights broke the silence. “Hello! How many are you here? I’ve got a bunch of nine teenagers and we’d like to stay the night” He was a hiking guide and they were on some kind of a field trip! We were too polite to show our disappointment as the youngsters rushed into the cabin. Luckily they were very well behaved and crawled into their own sleeping bags in a matter of minutes. It was a peaceful night after all.

Joonas cooking some veg stew at the Sentinel hut

The idea was to climb the mountain by a classic route called Angus Leppan. 6 pitches long and traditionally protected. It was graded something like 5b (the old grading system was pretty cryptic) but climbers we had talked to had told horror stories of loose rock and heavy exposure. A fistful of grass was told to be a good hold and an internet forum said “I wouldn’t bother taking gear. It’s mostly useless anyway” We weren’t sure what to expect.

A topo sketch of Angus Leppan route

The weather report was all stormy winds for the next day so we spent that one scouting our approach and hiking around the area. (A lesson learned from Eagle Mountain.) A good warm-up of 1000 vertical meters and 6 hours. We were wondering if the car park was always so busy during weekends, but the reason was revealed to us as we got talking to other hikers. Some crazy South Africans were having a wedding up on the plateau!

Preparing fot a wedding at 2800 something meters

The next morning we woke up at 5 am. It was still pitch black outside as we prepared our candle lit breakfast. The clouds were below us in the valley as we started our hike. The rough rectangular shape of Sentinel peak was painted orange by the sun as we made our way forward. The walk was just about one hour to the gully we needed to scramble to the base. Panting and sweating with the Sentinel Gendarme (whatever that is) on the left and the face of Sentinel peak on the right we made our way up. After a litre of sweat and a funky little solo climb we were nearing the saddle. The sun had been hidden during our safe approach and wind was non-existent. As we reached the highest point and the base of the climb, the environment suddenly felt a lot more hostile.

Sentinel peak. The route is on the shadowed corner on the right.

Joonas treading up the gully

The wind slapped our faces and the sun momentarily blinded us. After re-organizing our senses, we could see the clouds below us and the sun rising, blasting its rays straight onto the saddle. This was where we needed to start climbing. We geared and turned our gazes on the face of the Sentinel.

After figuring out that grass is truly a stable handhold and accepting the non-existence of gear placements, the first two pitches were pretty easy. Having to spend little time placing protection (We got a total of four pieces in the first two pitches!) our progress was fast and efficient.

Joonas enjoying the views

The meaning of exposure was carved into my frontal cortex as I started the climb on pitch three. A 20 meter traverse along a 20 cm ledge with a 500 meter drop below me. Clouds were still way below us and I could see people like ants hiking on the path we had taken the day before. With just one cam behind me, I could only hope the footholds were not Drakensberg quality. The face instead had “Made in Drakensberg” written all over it, as everything I touched crumbled off. Taking a step down to a 5 cm ledge I kept my nerves and breathed deep. Cross stepping with my right foot onto a stance and taking a deep sigh, I wiggled the flake on my right. I moved an inch or so, but I still decided to put a cam behind it. Psychological gear placement at its best.

I made my way up to the anchor and was happy to find bolts here too. The next pitch was supposed to be the classic scary airy traverse and Joonas was going for the lead. The internet guide told us of a single possible cam placement somewhere along the 10 meter traverse. Joonas decided to ignore that too as he ballet danced along the ledge to a small ridge. “Im attached to a bolted anchor! Nothing to worry about!” Good nerves I say. Climbing up the ridge, he found an old piton and backed it up with some cams to belay me up.

Clouds were racing up along the face of the mountain right beside us. We were hoping to reach the top before visibility would plummet down to zero. In the end, the technical execution of the climb was so casual that we made our way up quickly and didn’t have to worry. We were also very much enjoying the stomach gripping exposure and would have gladly climbed some extra pitches of this blissful mountain.

Having lunch with grand views just before the final pitch, we contemplated on the route. It’s funny how skills and experience enable you to enjoy such a potentially dangerous place. Climbing an almost vertical rock face up into the unknown without knowing exactly what you will find. With unwavering trust in your abilities, partner and gear, all that’s left is pure joy of discovery. An awe of having the possibility to come to such a place. This is adventure trad climbing at its best!

We reached the summit in about three hours from start of pitch one. The views were blocked by clouds now but the route had been extremely pleasant. Emphasis on the extreme. I smoked a victory cigar which Joonas refused of and we wrote our names and greetings to the summit log book.

The way down was by the standard route of Sentinel which was mostly scrambling or walking. We had scouted the descent during the previous day and saw that an abseil was inevitable at the end. We reached the spot that seemed best suited for a rappel and Joonas was just thinking out loud about how nice it would be to find a fixed anchor. And there it was. A large iron peg with a ring on it. Haha! Everything seemed a bit too easy. Or maybe we had learned our lessons.

The climb was a total success and all our fears of getting into trouble were obliterated. We walked back to the car park and packed our car for the exciting dirt road. We were to make our way four hours south to Bulwer to get one step closer to another dream. To be able to fly off the mountain rather than climbing down. We were about to have some air beneath us again!

The Dragons Challenge

We drove all the way to the Drakensberg the same day we left Eagle Mountain. A while ago Miki had still been in the belief that it’s a single mountain. “Which Drakensberg are we climbing guys??” – He had messaged us when he was still in Oman.

The Drakensberg is a huge area and mountain range. We were quite surprised of the views as we drove over a small hill and the mountains popped into view. We were able to see almost the whole Drakensberg range from the road. From looking at pictures I could even name some of the peaks. Also our objective, Sentinel peak, was looming in the distance

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We stopped for grocery shopping in Winterton and had some carrot cake in a café trying to sort out our plans. We definitely wanted to climb the Sentinel. It had been our only certain goal of the trip. We were also feeling very tired of being on the move all the time and wanted some rest.

We had heard about Rainbow Gorge from Darren in Tofo and decided to make way to a camp site in Didima for the night. From there we could do an easy day hike into the Gorge. As we drove in between the mountains, the dry colours of brown and yellow sand faded as green took over. We crossed many streams at which the locals were bathing and washing their cars.

Didima camp had a big main building with a restaurant and souvenir shop. Accommodation was available in thatched roof chalets, but we chose the tents. We decided to take a break and chill at the pool area as the sun set behind the Drakensberg mountains. Some dinner in the restaurant (lemon butter marinated trout with oven baked potatoes for seven euros) before setting up camp was all we needed to call it a day.

The sun setting behind Cathedral peak

After breakfast we felt energised again and were anxious to make plans for the day. Hiking maps were available at the souvenir shop and the lady there said she had done all the hikes in the area. Apparently the only way to get back from Rainbow Gorge was to back track the same way. “Don’t come back before you’ve climbed a chain ladder and seen a large rock lodged between the canyon walls” – she told us.

Morning broke warm and sunny. We crossed grassy plains and magnificent rock faces as we walked into the Gorge. Apparently the rock was of poor quality considering climbing activities but I still could not stop imagining doing first ascents on the pristine lime stone cliffs. After enjoying lunch at a beautiful waterfall and taking some awesome #nakedinnature – photos, we walked deeper into the Gorge. Baboons yelled after us and spider webs were suspended above the path. We were immersed in constant sounds of insects and the flowing water as we made our way through the vegetation.

Lunchbreak

We found the chain ladder, but the path ended long before we got to the rock between the cliffs. It would have been a boring trip to walk back so we decided to see how deep into the Gorge it was possible to delve. The map said the river would cross another path further upstream and we could follow that back to camp. We crossed pools chest deep and crawled through small cracks between rocks in our mission to find a route.

Joonas trying to find the way forward

Miki and Style

The canyon got narrower and narrower and the cliffs higher and higher on either side. Most of the time we were forced to pack our gear in backpacks and wade naked in the chilly mountain water to get further into the mysterious canyon. We found another chain ladder and another big rock between the cliffs as we went on.

Special place to boulder if it was dry :D

A roaring sound of a waterfall could be heard around the corner as we continued. We had to fear the worst. The way was blocked. Water rushed down the sides of a huge slippery rock face we couldn’t climb over, crawl under or pass by. We had to turn around and find a way to climb out of the canyon.

At first it seemed impossible as the rock was slimy from algae and the ground too steep to climb. Climbing gear wouldn’t have changed a thing. I found a steep slope to a rocky ledge that could possibly be traversed to climb out. Holding tight on the reins of my nerves I scrambled up and crossed the sloping traverse about 10 meters above the river. “There might be a way out here” – I yelled to Miki and Joonas.

Miki on the slope traverse

They followed as I had to grab a tree to wiggle up after the traverse. Between the bushes I could see some light and hope of getting up tickled my stomach. We scrambled through fighting the thorns and spider webs. After a final push the sun lay her gentle gaze on our faces as we got above the trees. We made our way onto a gentler grassy slope and the view opened showing a way up to the ridge.

Joonas on the final push from the canyon

We still had to scramble up some hundreds of meters, climb a small rock face and walk for a half hour, but in the end we found the contour path that would take us back to camp. We were excited to have found an alternate route. We also had the opportunity to walk via Thyme hill from which we could see the whole valley and awesome scenery of the Drakensberg area.

Hiking towards Thyme hill

Folke West and a Taleban soldier

We ran down from the hill as the sun set behind the mountains. Our hike had taken a full 8 hours and hunger growled in our stomachs.

During dinner Miki revealed to us that he had been feeling ill for a couple of days already. We all feared the worst as he might have caught malaria from Tofo. He said he would not want to take risks climbing the Sentinel and it would be best to head to Johannesburg for his flight back to Oman. It was Tuesday evening and his flight was on Friday. Morning would tell us more but Sentinel peak would probably have to wait.

Los Grandes Cojones

Eagle mountain

If you are like me you can relate to this feeling. As we drive south from Johannesburg with the moon rising from the east, the landscape starts to change. All of you who enjoy some kind of sport involving altitude changes, know the feeling. An exhilarating tickle in your chest as you look the hill sides become vertical and rock pillars sprout from the ground. Painted in silver and black by the rising full moon we watch the mountains grow beside us. We find the gate of Eagle mountain game lodge and call the number for opening. Immediately we see zebras, springboks and other animals I haven’t even seen before. Seems like real African savannah. We find the camp site under the mountain and put up our tents. I try to sleep under the stars but I’m forced into the tent by mosquitoes making extra holes on my face.

Morning breaks loose from it’s cage and sends his friend the wind to play with us. We are thankful to it for drying our sleeping bags, wet from mist, but have to curse it later during the climb. Discovering the game ranch has seen better days we have to make our own breakfast in the empty dining hall. The concrete floor has holes in it and spiders inhabit the toilet sinks. Perhaps consequences of the inflation of the South African Rand…

"Fight the feeling"

The approach for our climbing objective is again non-existent.  We park right next to the mountain face and gaze at the rock trying to find our route. It’s called “Fight the feeling” Grade 21 (6b+), 6 pitches long. In our guide book is a photo of “Rave Cave” midway up the route. Obviously we can’t resist the temptation and decide to pack our sleeping bags too.

Miki and Joonas at the start

Hike 15 minutes to the base and Joonas finds the first bolt. The rock type makes us smile. It’s hard and full of weird ball formations and extra cool pockets. Joonas leads up the slabby first pitch, Miki follows and I solo for speed. It’s only a grade 12 (something way below 4+) anyways.

Joonas on pitch one

The next pitch is only 9 meters but we have a fourth member in the party. The wind comes around the corner and starts howling in our ears. We can barely hear Miki when he gets to the belay station. The rock has turned vertical but the climbing is pretty easy with big jugs everywhere. I climb up last and get ready to lead the hardest pitch of the route.

Miki on pitch 2

Midway up the route I manage to mantle up to a slight ledge before seeing the next bolt a few meters to my right. I try to wiggle myself around the corner but can’t find any hand holds. I can feel by backpack pulling me awkwardly and realise I’m going to take a fall. The fall isn’t too bad, but as I feel the jolt of the rope stopping me, my back pack suddenly gets a lot lighter. I look back and see my yellow trad rack bag still falling. In slow motion it thuds on a rock on the ground and bounces onto a bush. “Shit!”

Luckily we’re not going to need the gear for this route. After discussing the options we decide to continue. The wind makes it impossible to communicate and we devise a system of messages with rope tugs. Joonas gets to lead the final pitch up to rave cave and I follow after Miki.

After pitch 4 in the Rave Cave

The cave is totally awesome. With lots of space and magnificent views we take a moment to chill. The wind is also caught behind the corner and leaves us alone for a while. Joonas wants to climb straight up the last two pitches but I’m getting a little stressed about the gear on the ground. We decide to abseil down with Miki, get the gear and climb back up via another route that’s traditionally protected. Protected being an overstatement as we are about to find out.

We abseil down a single 70m rope for two pitches and Joonas releases it from the anchor. The wind starts messing about with us again and the rope gets stuck in the retrieve. Tossing rope coils in the wind is also fun. Seems like gravity has changed as the coil darts straight up and gets stuck above me. We end up repeating two whole pitches and wasting at least two hours in the process.

We find the gear bag in a bush and head for the route called “Legde of renewed hope”. Three pitches of grade 9, 14 and 18. It tops out to the other end of Rave Cave. We solo up the first pitch in sneakers and find a ledge that is supposedly the start of the route. The line is somewhat difficult to distinguish but I gear up and start climbing. I grab the first hold, find a foot and push up. Snap and boom! The hold breaks loose and I topple back onto the ledge. Lucky I wasn’t any higher. A bit surprised by the poor quality of the rock we try to search for the start of the line again but there’s no other possibilities. The grade is only a 14 so “If I’m just careful and find good gear placements it’ll be okay.” So I start climbing again.

The guide book mentions a crack the climb is supposed to follow but there is none. I end up placing about 5 pieces for the whole 35 meter pitch before a final 10 meter runout to the ledge. My hope is everything but renewed although in the end I find relatively good placements for a belay anchor. Miki congratulates me on starting my solo career as he follows up next to me. The next pitch is as bad as the first one involving only one good cam placement which I celebrate midway up back to the Cave. Must have been the worst trad climb I’ve ever done. I even forgot to take photos!

The sky is getting worrying orange and red hues as we finally reach the cave. Joonas has cooked some pasta Napoletana for us and is anxious to get to the top. We gobble the food down our throats and Joonas gets to show off the fruits of his visualisation on the crux overhang. 

Planning the second last pitch

This takes us to the easy face and up to the summit of Mooihoek Mountain. The last rays of sun fade out as Miki practically runs up to the summit. Quick high fives and abseil down to our camp. The rope gets stuck again but we decide to worry about it in the Morning.

Miki racing the sun for the last pitch

Sleeping in the cave is magical but is surely interrupted a few times. Just enough to enjoy the clear moonlit sky and stars. I wake up to see the rope snaking down as if Elrond himself had enchanted it. I get disappointed as Miki tells me Joonas had hiked up to retrieve it. We decide to pack up, abseil down and drive to Harrismith for breakfast. Such a great adventure once again!

Waking up at Rave Cave

Waterval Boven

The bus ride back to Maputo isn’t as bad as it was the other way. The bus is nearly empty and the driver seems to be in a hurry too. He’s constantly on the phone. The only thing I can understand is his two phase laugh - The wheezing pig. So, we arrive in Maputo at around two o’clock just in time to catch the next bus to the Border of South Africa to embark on yet another bus ride to Nelspruit.

After spending the night at Miki’s friends place sleeping in hammocks and hassling with the car rental companies we finally get a ride under us and start driving to Waterval Boven. The only perquisite for the car was an auxiliary cable socket. It’s good to be driving free and listening to your own music.

I’m expecting a place in the middle of nowhere. Stunning views of water falls and a tranquil atmosphere with climbing hippies camping and hammocks between eucalyptus trees. Just google “Waterval Boven climbing” and you get the picture. The reality is once again quite different.

WB is an African town just like any other. With tuck shops “opening soon..” and pretty much everything closed for Easter. Streets with aimlessly wondering locals and children playing or wrestling next to it. Basic houses of time worn concrete and wavy metal roofs. The place all climbers stay is called Rock and rope. It’s run by a wonderful guy called Gustav. He’s got the warm and firm hand shake of a true climber and even opens his little climbing gear shop for us at nine in the evening. The dorms are cosy and the water in the shower is warm. We have a few cold beers to complete the purging ritual.

Checking down at the Valley at Waterfall area

The true nature of Boven reveals itself in the morning as we abseil down to the Waterfall area for our first day of climbing. Endless faces of hard blood red rock contrasted with green trees and a vivid blue sky. The town’s atmosphere is clearly a diversion for the true beauty lies in the valley below. The climbing here is certainly world class and we enjoy every route. None of us is really in sending condition so we enjoy the easy routes and the joy of climbing itself. Have a little coffee and toast in between and continue for a couple of more routes. To get back up to town level we decide to seek for an easy trad climb called “Heck Tick” opened by Gustav himself. The “guide book”, a printed out flapper of A4’s, ensures us a wonderful uncertainty of the routes start. “Up an obvious corner to a roof 15 meters above. Then left to bypass the roof and up the face to a legde” After discarding it twice, we find A corner with A roof above which makes the face impossible to see.

Miki: “Didn’t take long for us to try finding trouble again.”

Johannes: “So who’s leading this thing?”

Joonas: “Well. You are.”

Just before the roof on "Heck Tick"

Might have a seed of truth in that but I’m still up for an adventure. So I gear up for trad and start jamming some nuts and cams! The beginning is easy and I get some bomber gear in the cracks with a nut on a long sling just under the roof. I traverse to left crouching under the roof and manage the high foot to find myself on the face. Crimping up the face I climb up to a large and comfortable ledge. After building my first ever trad anchor I belay Miki up and he belays Joonas. I contemplate a while on the essence of trad climbing this route has so wonderfully crystallized. Climbing up a rock wall in fully natural condition. I think it’s wonderful! From here we can see the whole valley as the afternoon sun gently tickles our faces.

Midway up "Heck Tick"

It seems as the rest of the climb is very easy. We snap a few nice photos and solo up to the ridge. Just a walk and abseil back to a railway we started from and the day seems a little too untroublesome. Maybe we have learned something from getting into trouble previously.

Hiking back after the first day

We walk through town under the intrigued eyes of the locals. Head for shower and grab a couple of beers for starters before heading out to eat. Driving some kilometres towards Nelspruit, we find a place called Hill Billy bar. They make the biggest ever pizzas and we hang out in the restaurant like it’s our own living room. We play pool and watch TV and the owner tells us that he’s heading out for a while. “If you want some drinks just help yourselves” Such a cool place!

The next day we take a trip to the “Restaurant at the end of the universe” We don’t get to see Armageddon but surely some more epic sport climbing. After warming up we decide to try a shot at “Flambeau 6c+” 

First moves of Flambeau

I go for the onsight and blast through an overhanging start. After ripping up through the moves I manage the awkward left hand gaston clip of the last bolt. Cross over with my right hand and match a crimpy ledge just before the anchor. I almost lose my mind as the lactics shred my arms to jelly and I take a fall not being able to find a foothold. The move was not obvious enough. A high foot to the left and I get to the anchor after a short rest.

We spend the rest of the day shooting photos at the same route. The feeling of hanging from 3 cams at 20 meters without a rope tries to choke me, but I manage the pressure and get a few cool shots of Miki and Joonas.

Joonas reaching for the clip on Flambeau

Miki feeling the gaston at the last clip

My photographing set up. My life depended on those three cams.

Gustav has given us a hint to follow for something different. After twisting our minds on two consecutive escape rooms in Johannesburg the following day we decide to follow his advice for multi pitch climbing at Eagle Mountain, previously called Mount Everest.

Thank you ‘Boven! The adventure continues!

Tofo

I have been cursing, sweating and enduring agony for the last 12 hours as I finally arrive in Tofo. Mozambique isn’t exactly the most developed of countries and the local busses are a torture. It’s a cramped and hot 12 hour ride and I had to endure full blast African pop music for most of it. In the end I chose to put in my earplugs.

But Tofo! Finally! It’s a centre of tranquillity after Maputo. Even without cell phones I don’t have to go through the hassle of finding my long-time friend Joonas. He’s right there waiting for me as I arrive. We exchange hugs and he suggests a Pizza. Can’t refuse that after eating wheat buns for the whole journey. We walk the sandy roads a mere 200 meters to the pizzeria and get some beers. It’s good to be here.

Joonas at Tofo beach

Tofo is a small village on the east coast of Mozambique. Famous for diving and especially the marine mega fauna. Whale sharks and manta rays. My friend Joonas Kinni found it by chance when googling diving in Africa. He’s been here since August 2015 doing his dive master course and writing he’s theses regarding the scuba diving industry in Tofo. A bubble of serenity, Tofo is a beach bums paradise with great surfing, excellent diving and friendly people. Joonas basically knows everyone and I get introduced to a couple of dozen people on the first day. It’s a weird feeling walking in the local grocery store and being greeted by your name. “Aah, Johannes! Dom dia! Tudo bem?” My neurons don’t fire as fast as I would like and I end up grinning stupidly and muttering something weird to the man I don’t remember meeting.

The avocados were huge

After Pizza we head to the Crib. My friend is living in the coolest house in Tofo. A complex structure of wooden beams support the house on a hill side. A balcony the width of the whole house and a view to the Indian ocean and I can’t refuse to crawl up to snooze in my hammock to see the sun rise on the first morning. The mornings and evenings are also the only time when sweating like a pig can be avoided.

Morning dozing on Joonas' balcony

We spend most of our time in Tofo doing random extempore stuff with people and getting ready for a gig Joonas has fixed for us. The local Finnish owned restaurant Happi is having a grand opening and we get to show off our musical skills. We get accompanied by Kalle Taivainen who’s moved here with his family to take care of the restaurant. During our jamming sessions we find out that he’s actually recorded the whistling for a legendary song “Läski mulkku” by Samae Koskinen. Obviously this has to be on our set list. Another finnish couple also owns the dive shop that the restaurant’s in. This is where Joonas did his dive masters and also a great chance to check the diving in Tofo.

Being a certified open water diver I choose to do an adventure deep dive on a site called Giants Castle. It’s apparently offers a chance for spotting the famous manta rays. The largest of the species with a maximum fin span of a whopping seven meters!

I sit on the round rubber side of the boat as our instructor shouts the drop in. “Three, two, one GO!” All eight divers, including me, fall in for the backward entry. After getting reoriented from the back flip I empty my BCD from air and start sinking to the depths. A feeling of weird claustrophobia hits me as I turn my body to swim to the bottom. It’s not there! All I see is endless blue space! Luckily there’s a descent rope going down and I choose to ignore my brains survival warnings. Rationalizing the situation I drop down deeper into the abyss. Slowly the reef below me starts materializing. Equalizing pressure every meter to avoid my ear drums from popping I swim down to meet the others and also Joonas my dive buddy. 28 meters down we start calibrating our depth meters but suddenly a sharp metallic rattle breaks our number hunt. That’s the sound of our instructor hitting a metal rod to her scuba tank. It means she’s seen something significant.

I turn around in the blue. A dark shape is swimming past about 20 meters from us. I immediately think of a hat, but suddenly my perception is altered as the shape majestically turns and tilts it massive body to the side. It’s a manta ray! I can make out it’s white under side with gills and a pointed tail before it swims off. I turn to find my dive buddy as another rattle vibrates through the water. Now there’s two manta rays! They swim in opposite directions past each other like enormous eagles in slow motion. The other one makes a u-turn and comes directly at me. I decide to leave the bottom on my back side as I cruise under the huge being facing upwards. I feel unreal as the manta rays body aligns right over me and I can glance the real size of this magnificent creature. Slowly flapping its wings up and down it calmly swims over me and leaves me baffled by the encounter. Before continuing our dive we even see a fourth one swimming past us a bit further away. The manta’s come here for the equivalent of a shower. The reef Is spotted with so called cleaning stations where specialised fish species eat algae and parasites off the mantas bodies while they hover close to the bottom. Seems alien to the ignorant and a spectacular case of symbiosis indeed.

The Diving team

Our gig at the restaurant was a huge success and the self-made Babofone was vastly admired. On the day after we get to meet Tofos own Crocodile Dundee. His name is Darren and he’s also a good friend of Joonas. Apparently he’s very interested in snakes and orchids. The story tells that when he was sixteen years old, he had 40 snakes in his house. Then he figured it’s not exactly the smartest set up. He released them all back to nature. Now we walk into his office at Casa Barry’s Lodge. Joonas has told me that he has a surprise for us. The office is packed with people and on the desk lays a plastic box that everyone is staring at. Darren is next to the box talking inaudibly. Then something in the box lunges for his hand! It’s a snake and not any snake. It’s a Boomslang. The deadliest of Africa’s many poisonous snakes. Darren tells us that, without anti venom, a bite could kill you in 24 hours. Symptoms include… He’s caught the snake from the village. It was crossing the road and Darren went to catch it. At first he didn’t realise it’s a boomslang, but when he did, he was in a bit of a shock. It’s too dangerous to catch a boomslang and now he wants to go release it with us. All 20 people in the office want to come along.

Darren going crazy about the Boomslang

We drive in a four by four convoy on the bumpy sand roads of back country Mozambique. Passing palm trees, clay huts and playing children with a boomslang in the trunk. Darren finds a small cashew nut tree and carries the box next to it. “So you should all stand there about 10 meters from the tree. Probably it will stay in the tree but if it comes straight down and right at you, YOU SHOULD STAY ABSOLUTELY STILL! And don’t take it personally if you end up dying of snake bite” A snakes vision is based on detecting movement so the first part is not a joke. I wasn’t sure of the second. Darren removes the tape that’s sealing the box and places it in the tree. Inside the box the boomslang is going wild. Thrashing around and making attacks at Darrens hands, it doesn’t seem too happy . With long stick he the prods the box open. 

Suddenly the snakes energy changes. It slowly and carefully slides down from the box and onto a branch. It senses the freedom and slithers up to the highest point. Tongue licking the air, it observes the surroundings like a an emerald green sentinel. We snap a few photos of the snakes freedom and leave to let both parties recover from the stressful situation. We spend the rest of the day chilling on a beach and cliff jumping in praia de Rocha. Even get to make a short dodgy climb on crumbling sandstone!

The Boomslang tasting freedom

A weird epidemic of odd abscesses is plaguing Tofo. Joonas is having his third one and many of his friends also have them. Between fingers, on arms and butts and even one on the danglings is reported to me. As a medical student I get excited about collecting pus and tissue samples but that might get me in trouble in the customs. A German friend has a bad one between his index and middle finger and I end up checking and cleaning it every day. Luckily, taking care of basics hasn’t become boring yet. I feel happy as it is showing signs of healing on the day we are leaving.

Cleaning the abscess on Joonas's hand

We were hoping to catch a ride to Maputo with someone leaving Tofo, but didn’t succees in acquiring one. So we wake up at three in the morning, pack our stuff and head out to catch the 10 hour bus ride to Maputo. Our journey continues towards South Africa and the world famous climbing spot in Waterval Boven. It’s great to be on the road again. So long paradise and the Indian ocean! I think I’ll have to return for the whale sharks some day.