Just because it is summer in the the north eastern part of South Africa doesn't mean unbroken sunshine. The rainy season is upon us and those Zulu weather gods don't mess around. Some of the most impressive, loud and wet storms I have ever seen are a regular feature. Happily, this is not always the case and the periods of damp are interspersed with wonderfully warm and sunny days.
Last week, I was able to visit the St Luica wetlands. The area, based upon the coastal village of the same name is now a national park. Driving through, traffic is frequently interrupted by bands of wandering kudu or even the odd congress of chacma baboon. Vervet monkeys provide light entertainment, they are some of the most accomplished thieves in the animal kingdom and there are over 300 species of birds calling the area home.
At the northernmost tip of the park is Cape Vidal beach, so named after the commander of a Royal Navy survey vessel who charted the area in the mid 19th century. Pristine white sand stretching for miles and not a beach seller in sight. I couldn't help but ponder that if only Swaziland had such a beach, it would rank high in Africa's top tourist destinations.
Tan suitably topped up, there was just enough time to head back into the real world for the river cruise. St Luica village is an upmarket, though unashamed holiday resort. Restaurants, bars, photo shops rub shoulders with supermarkets selling tacky tee shirts, beach sandals and picnic foods. The atmosphere is redolent with sun oil and camping gaz, evoking memories of holiday Britain many summers ago
The St Lucia estuary is home to countless Nile crocodiles and several families of hippo. Every few hours, squadrons of flat bottomed boats set forth to get as close as possible to these denizens of the shallows. The animals appear blissfully unconcerned by the waterborne invasion of their living space. Crocs slither into the water almost on cue, hippos yawn, bellow and splutter and the myriad bird population provide colourful aerial displays between scenes.
On return to the docks, local youth enact their own interpretation of a Zulu giya or challenge dance. The effect is somewhat diminished by the mixing of traditional garb with Puma trainers, but one can't fault these lads for their enterprise and enthusiasm.
During the dark hours, hippos roam the streets. They are nocturnal feeders and leave the water at nights to roam up to 8 Km in search of fodder. There are warning signs everywhere, along with instructions on what to do if confronted by these 3 ton behemoths. A popular diversion at closing time is hippo hunting. Bands of intrepid explorers comb the residential streets in search of the monsters, who often make their presence known by covering parked cars in mountains of plop. Maximum spread is accomplished by rotating the tail whilst dumping.
If done in company of an experienced guide, the activity is reasonably safe. No one with even a degree of sanity would approach one of these creatures, but it is a surreal experience to watch them cavort, (from a safe distance), through the manicured streets of the village.
