One night in Durban
I had spent a really long hot day lying by the pool, by myself (the only one in the hostel!), and when the bus arrived late afternoon I was more then happy to get on, just for something else to look at.
After we left we had a a few hundred kilometers of windy Transkei road as we left the rural district. The sun was setting, and from the hilltops you could see the effect the colours had across every part of the sky. The hills were spotted with mud huts, and the roads with the occasional cow meandering across our path. The bus driver was playing Paul Simon's Graceland album. Brett, the new Yorker smiled "When I was younger I use to listen to this album and think 'Wouldn't it be cool to listen to this in Africa'". I waved the Transkei goodbye in the last remaining light of the day.
I have no idea where we stopped for dinner, KFC in some town. Johnny our bus driver, a resident of Durban was ready to give us the low down over our meal.
Amy, another New Yorkian, and I would only be there for one night, very disappointing in Johnny's mind, and ours as we explained that we were desperate to try bunny chow. "Bunny Chow! Oh we can do bunny chow" smiled Johnny, "Wait till we get to Durban".
In Durban a few hours later we stopped at the first backpacker hostel, were the older man sitting at the front was staying. The others on the bus had told me that at the hostel they were staying at the night before he had requested that the live band playing stop there music at 11pm, because he was sleeping, even thought there set went till 12. Not a happy camper considering the chatty and friendly bus we were on.
Once he was gone, Johnny declared party time. He radioed in to the bus terminal explaining that there would be some delays in returning the bus, he had a Durban tour to conduct!
Last year the takeaway joint we arrived at won the Durban bunny chow award. Bunny Chow is native to Durban. The city of 3 million people, has the second largest Indian population outside Indian, making up a third of its residents. During apartheid the Indian workers were not allowed to be served in restaurants, so someone came up with the idea of hollowing out a loaf of bread a filling the centre with curry, which served as a cheap and quick takeaway. You don't use and cutlury, the curry is really thick, you just eat around the outside of the bread, sort of like you eat an icecream in a cone.
The takeway served three flavours, bean, chicken, and mutton (which i had seen all over South Africa and was relieved to learn is actually the word for lamb) and three sizes, 1/4, 1/2 or full loaf. My 1/4 bean cost 12 Rand, or $3 aussie dollars.
Everyone laughed and declared me typically Australian as I checked out my prize curry and declared "Great, but I could do with a big beer to wash this down with!"
"You should have said something!" said Johnny "Everyone back in the bus!"
We were off through Durban again, arriving at a divey pub in an industrial part of town, with a group of Indian men sitting out the front. "don't worry guys, this is my brothers place!" yells Johnny.
PJ, Johnny's brother, greeted us as we got of the bus with our chow. Inside the pub was empty, everyone was hanging around outside. We bought our beers at the bar, a long neck for 8R ($2), through a grate, much like a bank teller would use, passing the money though a small gap and receiving the beer wedged out through the metal bars. "Its not so nice in here, head on upstairs, and ill see you in a minute" said Johnny.
I lead the group causiously up the garden path to the apartment upstairs, through the back door and into the lounge room were there were about four guys watching the largest TV I had ever seen in my life. Despite being a little surprised by the seven white guys equipped with beer and bunny chow, you couldn't critize there hospitality as they ran around found us chairs, dragged tables in front of the TV for our dinner, introduced themselves and then eventually asked "So what are you guys doing here?"
We dug into our chow like true animals, no cutlery allowed, drowning the heat of the chilli with beer, but nobody even got close to finishing the massive meal that is chow. I had done everything I wanted to do in Durban.
Later back at the hostel we all had more beers and I chatted away into the night with a couple from New York, Brett and Jana. In the morning I pulled myself out of bed for the 7am bus to the Drankensburg.
After we left we had a a few hundred kilometers of windy Transkei road as we left the rural district. The sun was setting, and from the hilltops you could see the effect the colours had across every part of the sky. The hills were spotted with mud huts, and the roads with the occasional cow meandering across our path. The bus driver was playing Paul Simon's Graceland album. Brett, the new Yorker smiled "When I was younger I use to listen to this album and think 'Wouldn't it be cool to listen to this in Africa'". I waved the Transkei goodbye in the last remaining light of the day.
I have no idea where we stopped for dinner, KFC in some town. Johnny our bus driver, a resident of Durban was ready to give us the low down over our meal.
Amy, another New Yorkian, and I would only be there for one night, very disappointing in Johnny's mind, and ours as we explained that we were desperate to try bunny chow. "Bunny Chow! Oh we can do bunny chow" smiled Johnny, "Wait till we get to Durban".
In Durban a few hours later we stopped at the first backpacker hostel, were the older man sitting at the front was staying. The others on the bus had told me that at the hostel they were staying at the night before he had requested that the live band playing stop there music at 11pm, because he was sleeping, even thought there set went till 12. Not a happy camper considering the chatty and friendly bus we were on.
Once he was gone, Johnny declared party time. He radioed in to the bus terminal explaining that there would be some delays in returning the bus, he had a Durban tour to conduct!
Last year the takeaway joint we arrived at won the Durban bunny chow award. Bunny Chow is native to Durban. The city of 3 million people, has the second largest Indian population outside Indian, making up a third of its residents. During apartheid the Indian workers were not allowed to be served in restaurants, so someone came up with the idea of hollowing out a loaf of bread a filling the centre with curry, which served as a cheap and quick takeaway. You don't use and cutlury, the curry is really thick, you just eat around the outside of the bread, sort of like you eat an icecream in a cone.
The takeway served three flavours, bean, chicken, and mutton (which i had seen all over South Africa and was relieved to learn is actually the word for lamb) and three sizes, 1/4, 1/2 or full loaf. My 1/4 bean cost 12 Rand, or $3 aussie dollars.
Everyone laughed and declared me typically Australian as I checked out my prize curry and declared "Great, but I could do with a big beer to wash this down with!"
"You should have said something!" said Johnny "Everyone back in the bus!"
We were off through Durban again, arriving at a divey pub in an industrial part of town, with a group of Indian men sitting out the front. "don't worry guys, this is my brothers place!" yells Johnny.
PJ, Johnny's brother, greeted us as we got of the bus with our chow. Inside the pub was empty, everyone was hanging around outside. We bought our beers at the bar, a long neck for 8R ($2), through a grate, much like a bank teller would use, passing the money though a small gap and receiving the beer wedged out through the metal bars. "Its not so nice in here, head on upstairs, and ill see you in a minute" said Johnny.
I lead the group causiously up the garden path to the apartment upstairs, through the back door and into the lounge room were there were about four guys watching the largest TV I had ever seen in my life. Despite being a little surprised by the seven white guys equipped with beer and bunny chow, you couldn't critize there hospitality as they ran around found us chairs, dragged tables in front of the TV for our dinner, introduced themselves and then eventually asked "So what are you guys doing here?"
We dug into our chow like true animals, no cutlery allowed, drowning the heat of the chilli with beer, but nobody even got close to finishing the massive meal that is chow. I had done everything I wanted to do in Durban.
Later back at the hostel we all had more beers and I chatted away into the night with a couple from New York, Brett and Jana. In the morning I pulled myself out of bed for the 7am bus to the Drankensburg.
posted by Courtney | 12:58 AM
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