After 3 years of exploring opposite sides of the world, mine and Fidelma's travel plans finally coincided. Friends reunited, and where better than South Africa?!

We left Cape Town sadly, but also excitedly, as we headed off to the Wild Coast on a surprisingly good bus service. 20 hours later we arrived at Coffee Bay, a beautiful little place dotted with round Xhosa huts along the stunning and rather, well, wild, coast. Crashing waves, rocky cliffs, mountains, wind, sunshine and many locals trying to sell bracelets, crayfish, weed and mushrooms. (They're versatile with their produce and know their Coffee Bay clientelle). We spent our days walking, doing acrobalance, swimming and learning to surf, and at night there was always drumming coming from somewhere, often accompanied by dance. The powerful Xhosa rhythms joining the drink, the chatter, the fire and the full moon. We met many travellers, most using the Baz Bus, which from an outsider looks like a bazaar bubble of drunken Westerners seeing other drunken Westerners seeing things, and the standard conversations of "Where are you from and what are you doing?" quickly became tiresome. However, we also met some lovely people, and the place is stunning, relaxing and so comfortingly African. It made me a little homesick for Uganda, but also made me fully appreciate the limited time I have left in this magic continent. Aah, the music, the rhythm, the laid back "Afritude", the smiles, the sunshine, the spirit; I just love it here!

We'd met two lovely German guys in Coffee Bay, and agreed to travel with them to the Drakensburg mountains, a nice 5 hour drive away. In theory. They picked us up in the nearest town (a crowded minibus taxi ride away), and off we went, enjoying the company of our new friends. Somewhere along a well maintained asphalt road, 100km away from the nearest towns on either side, a rather large pothole suddeny appears. The car isn't impressed and brings us to a halt, with two flat tyres and two bent rims. So there we stand, on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, with only one spare tyre, at 5pm before the start of a 4 day public holiday weekend. Again, a beautiful spot to break down, but not altogether practical. A few phone calls later, it is clear we'll have to wait for a minimum of 5 hours. The boys despair, while I happily enjoy the fresh air and evening sun, quite convinced everything will be ok, when dear, kind, wonderwoman Sherry appears. She says she lives nearby and we should call her if we need anything. 10 minutes later she returns, with her husband, to insist we put the car in her rather long driveway and wait in her rather large house. They provide us with coffee, cake, wine, crisps, toasted sandwiches and hot chocolate, and shower us with such kindness and care. By 10pm, it's clear a replacement car will take a while, and so we agree to spend the night. The car isn't replaced until after midnight, 7 hours later, which we are all well aware could've been a cold, hungry and miserable 7 hours had it not been for Sherry and Clark. They are such genuine people, we were all touched by their kindness, and we left the following morning feeling very lucky and grateful. Those are the moments I travel for. It is so nice to be constantly proven that people are generally good. I left feeling hopeful that if we can do that for strangers, than there's hope for us humans yet. And I also left feeling an odd fondness towards potholes.

It was a pleasure to travel with Lukas and Peter, and after a day at our destination; walking, swimming in freezing river pools and cooking together, it was sad to go our separate ways. We have been shown so much kindness and generosity and seen so much beauty, we have both become rather fond of this vibrant country. And most of all, I am so happy to be travelling with Fidelma, my personal sunshine.