Road Trip

Sorry guys, long time no posting. Why? Simply because I didn't find the time to write one. Normally I write posts in weekends but the last two have been fully booked with other stuff. First there was two weekends ago. This was the weekend aimed at avoiding deportation by the Mozambican Rita.

For you non-Dutchies out there, she's a politician, part of the previous cabinet of our prime minister Harry Potter, who's sole purpose in life was to waste my tax euros by making one law proposal after another, aimed at discriminating between Antillians and other foreigners. With 'foreigners' she refers - of course - to non-western foreigners (Don't ask...). I guess she wanted to go back a few hundred years in time (just like her hairdo). Luckily Holland does have a non-discrimination clause in its constitution. If only someone would've read that to her...

Now that she's out of the government and more-or-less thrown out of her party for insubordination, she's starting her own party. The name? Proud of Holland. Scary huh? Wasn't there a small European guy some 70 years ago with a similar slogan? Come to think of it, she has a freaky little moustache too!

Okay, okay, I'll get off the soapbox now. Getting back to my story, I currently have a 180 day visa, but can only stay 30 days in the country. This basically means I should go have a cup of coffee in Swaziland or South Africa every 29 days. You wonder why? Join the club! So do we! Since my return from Holland, I had been in Maputo some 25+ days, so it was time for a Kurdish style border crossing. A quick in and out.

The choice fell on a two day trip to Nelspruit, South Africa. That is somewhere between Klipspruit, Hectorspruit, Hoedspruit, Robertospruit and Groenespruitjes, and about 1.5 hours drive from the border. It is the place where all middle and upperclass Maputonians (I just made up that word) go for some serious shopping. The fact is, that however nice Maputo is, you cannot do proper shopping here. There are just not enough quality stores and the few have very limited stock. It's a husband's wet dream! ;-)

First, I had to rent a car and the choice fell on a very cute small Kia Picanto. A spicy car indeed! Okay, okay, I'll admit. It was the cheapest they had. But! It had a good radio CD player. As opposed to the brand new 2007 Ford Forest a colleague bought, which came with a cassette player! Yes, a cassette player. For all of you who have not yet hit the age of 35, that is a clunky piece of plastic which your parents used to record their favourites artists on (like Boney M and Harry Belafonte). You would spent 4 minutes fast forwarding and reversing in order to find that 2.5 minute song. And you could even buy a Walkman, which was an appliance 2 times the size and weight of you iPod, which enabled you to take no less than 20 songs on the road! a technological master piece!

My Kia was a left-hander. Meaning the steering wheel was on the right and you had to shift using your left hand. Yes, in Mozambique and South Africa they don't drive on the right side of the road, but the wrong side. I had driven on the left side before, in the Bahamas to be exact, but there I had an American car and it was an automatic (since the only sticks the Americans handle are cheese sticks). This car here was a whole new experience.

First of all driving on the left messes up your entire sense of orientation. Where to go? How to turn? Where to look? Luckily, I learned to drive on Curaçao where you develop a 360 degree street vision in order to survive and it was even further perfected in Rio where every traffic participant is allowed to develop their own traffic rules. Unfortunately, the local traffic cops have the same prerogative...

By the time I got used to shifting with my left hand, and even mastered the art of signalling a turn (the lever is on the other side of your steering wheel, so you keep turning on the window wipers when you actually want to signal a left turn), I was out of town and on my way to the border.

Oh no, the border! Yes, the border! The border represents many years of perfecting bureaucracy. Not only did I have to fill in a form in order to leave the country, but there's a whole separate counter, line and form to 'export' your car. You spent a lot of time filling in important details like engine and chassis number of you car, even though at the gate, some guy just checks if you actually drive a Kia.

Of course, once you have left Mozambique, the process starts all over again in South Africa. You fill in basically the same form (but the South African customs also want to know the serial number of your built in radio CD player), but now to 'import' your car. These guys sitting just 200 meters from each other should go have a cup of coffee together to discuss possibly, maybe using the same form? Just an idea.

Oh well, I guess this won't happen because in order to share that cup of coffee, one of them should cross the border... and they know how complex that is....

(hmm, this article is getting a bit long and I need to go to the sports bar in order to secure a table for the Formula 1 season grand finale, so I guess I'll have to tell you all about Nelspruit the next time)