Only the words of the captain keep me from crying out “I spot ‘em!” Earlier, as the boat set sail, Danie Bennett had said, “You see it once, you keep it to yourself. You see it twice, you tell me.” He paused, then intoned with a glint in his blue eyes, “People imagine a lot.”
Indeed. I was now certain that every other wave—small and dark here, far out from the coastline—was the fin of a shark, that every other shadow in the water was the bulk of a whale. Surely I wasn’t imagining things? Why, the Indian Ocean was brimming with the mammals. Then I recalled the captain’s advice—and shut up.
“Up ahead! Humpbacks, at 12 o’clock.” That was Bennett, not my overenthusiastic self, and the time he mentioned was the direction in which my fellow passengers and I were to look. I peered through my hair, whipping in the early morning wind, but the water lay flat. Too late.
I had risen at five in the morning, on my third day in South Africa, to join a whale-watching tour. An open 4×4 had brought us from the seaside holiday town of St Lucia to the beach, where we donned wind jackets and boarded the Advantage Charter. From July to November, humpback whales migrate along the KwaZulu-Natal coast, from their Antarctic feeding grounds to their breeding grounds off Mozambique. So October is prime time for whale watching, and a fairly rough sea held the promise of several sightings, as the humpbacks are more active in these conditions.
“Four o’clock! I see three of them…four…six,” said Bennett. And there they were, undeniably whales and not wishful thinking, looping out of the blue, snorting sprays of water, and vanishing as abruptly as they appeared. Every time the captain spotted a pod, the cruiser slowed to a crawl so that our approach, as close as 50m, did not scare the creatures away.
Yet the shy giants never stayed by our side very long. One minute, they loomed ahead of us, the mere swell of their arched backs giving us a sense of their enormous size, the next they rocked the boat as they dived under it, and then they were gone, resurfacing only as dark motes in the distance.
“C’mon, lift your tails,” coaxed Bennett, hoping to photograph the whales’ patterned black-and-white undersides, which act as ‘fingerprints’. Unmoved by his pleas, they rarely frothed the waves with their tail slaps, and never deigned to ‘sing’ the complex and deep sounds they are renowned for, or ‘breach’ the waves by lifting their bodies clear of the water.
Several sightings later, it was time to return, with the cruiser gathering speed in its mad dash toward the shore until it bumped and ground against the sands. After lunch, we hit the road again. A national highway called N2, fronting almost the entire coast of KwaZulu-Natal province, had brought us up from Durban to St Lucia, to watch whales, hippos and crocs.
N2, like almost all roads in South Africa, is a driving pleasure. The asphalt unspools without a blemish, although the material is increasingly being replaced by concrete, which withstands the African summer better. On our journey from Durban, we drove past verdant hills, covered with aloe, banana lookalikes and sugarcane—South Africa’s ‘green gold’. In 1847, the British brought sugarcane to South Africa from Mauritius. It flourished along the KwaZulu coastal belt, leading to the establishment of the first sugar mill in 1851.
In 1860, indentured labourers arrived from India to work in the sugarcane fields. The community was approximately 13,000-strong when a 24-year-old Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi arrived in Durban in 1893—and not much later started protests against unfair labour laws. Today, the Zulu Kingdom reportedly has the biggest Indian population outside of India.
The farm workers I saw outside the car window, hacking at canes, were all blacks. “Do Indians still work in the sugarcane fields?” I asked the driver. He shook his head and seemed to grope for words. “Indians are so business-minded,” he finally and tactfully replied, breaking into a gap-toothed smile.
So well did the Indians prosper as merchants here that Durban’s Victoria Street Market is now popularly known as ‘Indian Market’. Inside the pink building, the shops bear signboards for Seaman Chetty’s Halaal, Pillay’s Seafood and Bachoo’s Handicrafts. The chaotic, frenetic market has a reassuringly Indian flavour, but the businesses have wisely adapted to their surroundings. At S.D. Naidoo’s Offal Shop, the owner strings up gnarled innards and grinning goats’ heads to lure his Zulu clientele, while another trader sells chilli powder (labelled ‘Mother-in-law Hell Fire’) as well as ‘Braai Vleis Spice’ for the barbecue traditionally associated with Boers.
The cityscape, mixing old and new, memory and desire, enchants. The exquisitely carved City Hall, built in 1910, and the pillared and porticoed Main Post Office, built in 1885 as a Town Hall, blend harmoniously with the glass and concrete high-rises. Another heritage building in City Centre, a former railway repair workshop has been converted into a popular shopping mall, called The Workshop, while preserving its original architectural elements such as lofty arched windows and doors, iron beams and posts, and gaslights.
This is, indeed, a predominant theme of Durban’s recent development: while projects such as malls, casinos and amusement parks have been launched at breakneck speed, the old isn’t completely thrust aside. At Point Waterfront, uShaka Marine World—replete with shark and dolphin exhibits, seven aquariums, and slides and pools—has grown on the site of a disused parking lot. But the urban regeneration of this port area has preserved and renovated old buildings, including port officials’ offices, rope sheds and old prisons. When the former railway stores on Heritage Square are converted into commercial enterprises, it is promised, their elegant, pastel-coloured brick façades will be retained.
Back on the road in St Lucia, after watching the whales and heading towards a croc and hippo tour, I think about Durban’s Point Waterfront and then of the extensive port lands lying idle on the eastern seaboard of Mumbai, where I live. Some urban planners advocate the immediate redevelopment of this invaluable slice of real estate. Others caution that this should not benefit the few, as happened with the city’s textile mills, or entail razing its heritage buildings. I think Mumbai’s leaders could look to Durban’s Point Waterfront for pointers on regenerating its docklands.
Then a dock of sorts—a small, wooden jetty, actually—appears to interrupt my musings. We walk across the jetty and lower ourselves into the Advantage Cruiser. The ferry wanders with infinite slowness up the St Lucia Estuary. It is a dreamy ride along a shallow, muddy river. The only sounds are the rhythmic beating of the waves, the flapping of the green awning overhead, and the hum of the engine.
As the knobby heads of hippos surface, the captain tells us they are aggressive creatures that kill more people in Africa every year than any other animal. I also learn that they have a sweet tooth, particularly for the sugarcane along the coastal belt, and that, contrary to appearances, they cannot swim.
But as the ferry inches along, this crash course in natural history becomes a mere drone. The captain’s words lave over me. Did he just say crocodiles never stop growing? Did he just point out a shrike or swallow, egret or heron? But my mind, like the ferry, starts to drift. The spokes of sunlight seeping through the overcast sky are the palest gold. The golden weaver birds in the marshes alongside make incredible nests. The shrilling of swifts is a magical sound.
Then harsh words from the captain bring me back to reality. They aren’t directed at me personally, but might as well be. “This is a self-destructing ecosystem,” he says. “In another 800 years, there will be no estuary here, only swamp.” No pale gold sunlight? No woven reed nest? No swifts shrilling? I am horrified, and truly grateful for the here and now. As the sun sinks, I think: this estuary, this blessed piece of earth.
We travel inland the next day, towards Hluhluwe Imfolozi National Park, which prides itself on being home to the Big Five—rhino, elephant, lion, leopard and buffalo. We enter the game reserve, and the road swoops down and soars up as we travel along it, over hill after hill, which stretch in endless chains and every direction to the horizon.
We begin our safari in a 4×4 the next day even as the first pink streaks the eastern sky. Almost immediately, we run into a herd of grazing buffalo and a couple of slumbering rhinos. Then a bull elephant appears, followed by a young one. We are so close to the animals that I can hear the grass tear as the elephant tugs at it, and see the flies bunched on the backs of the rhinos. The jeep continues its crawl in second gear over the rolling hills. We sight zebra right by the roadside; unmindful of our presence an arm’s length away, they continue to graze. A pack of bushy-tailed wild dogs rush into a clearing among the trees, and the blue-faced guinea fowls on the ground shriek and rise into the branches. Impala and nyala sightings become so commonplace that our guide scorns to stop when we see the deer.
Heading back to camp, I remember legendary King Shaka, who united the clans of the region in the early 1800s and called his kingdom KwaZulu, or ‘place of the people of heaven’. The Hluhluwe Imfolozi Park is believed to have been his royal hunting ground. Here then, I tell myself, in this game reserve where a thousand hills reach for the heavens, must surely lie the heartland of the Zulu Kingdom.
The information
KwaZulu-Natal, the Zulu Kingdom, boasts two World Heritage Sites: the mighty Drakensberg mountains and St Lucia Wetland Park, a pristine amalgamation of five ecosystems. But the splendours of nature are ubiquitous here. A long coastline brims with coral reefs, marine parks, and whale and dolphin hotspots. Inland lie verdant hills, game reserves and farms. Roads in South Africa are immaculately maintained and blemish-free, with gas stations, shops and yellow emergency phones at regular intervals. Maps are reliable and easy to read, with roads marked with a letter (N=national road, R=regional road, M=metropolitan road) and a number. N2, N3 and N11 are the major highways in KwaZulu-Natal.
When to go: KwaZulu-Natal experiences sunshine all year round in a temperate, sub-tropical climate, with warm to hot and humid summers and relatively mild winters. Spring (September to November) and summer (December to February) are the rainy seasons. Autumn is March to May, and winter is June to August. Midday temperatures average between 20 and 30 degrees C. High tourist season is October to March. Game is easier to spot in the cooler months, April to September, plus hotels usually offer lower off-season rates.
Where to stay:
—In Durban: The Balmoral, along the city’s ‘Golden Mile’ beachfront, offers spotlessly clean, sea-facing rooms. The uShaka Marine World is within walking distance. www.raya-hotels.com.
—In Hluhluwe Imfolozi Park: Hilltop Camp, on the summit of a forested hill, includes a nine-bed lodge, 20 two-bed rondavels with communal baths, and 49 chalets. www.kznwildlife.com.
—In St Lucia: The beautifully maintained Lidiko Lodge, an original colonial home, has 14 AC doubles, each with a private patio. lidiko@wetlands.co.za . Hippo Hideaway has comfortable rooms and easy access to all shops. Includes fully equipped self-catering units (www.hippohideaway.co.za).
Where to eat in Durban: Paprika offers a pan-African cuisine, a vibrant pub and communal feasting. Splashes, at the entrance to the city’s harbour, has Mediterranean seafood, but also caters to vegetarians. Fabulous, near the Botanic Gardens, serves authentic Moroccan.
Shopping: South Africa is big on shopping malls. One of the biggest and busiest in KwaZulu-Natal is the Gateway at Umhlanga Rocks. Stalls selling beaded necklaces and bags, leather sandals, soapstone carvings and other irresistible junk line the Golden Mile beachfront in Durban. They’re mostly run by African matrons in headscarves and puffer jackets who know the art of selling without heckling. Not so at the city’s Indian Market, aka Victoria Street Market, where third-or-fourth-gen Indian shopkeepers will harangue the Indian visitor on every aspect of India. Most shops here sell spices, brassware and meat, but keep an eye open for the Zulu condom—a bulbous banana leaf device worn on the obvious appendage, reportedly invented by legendary King Shaka to ensure his warriors didn’t lose strength because of their carnal activities. Or take your pick from the fascinating display of roots, herbs, hooves and horns at the adjacent market (over the city station) run by vendors of traditional African medicine.
Tours & contacts:
—St Lucia-based Advantage Tours and Charters offer a two-hour whale-watching boat ride, with a money-back guarantee if you don’t see the mammals. Whale season is July to November. Check out their popular hippo and croc tour. Contact Dannie Bennett www.advantagetours.co.za.
—Shakabarker Tours offer a five-hour tour of the St Lucia Eastern Shores—flanking the ocean and passing through open grasslands, dense forests and coastal dunes. www.shakabarker.com.
—In Durban: Tourist Junction, 031-3044934; Durban Walking Tours, 031-3044934; Durban International Airport, 031-4516669; Indian Consulate, 031-3047020; Rennies Foreign Exchange, 031-3055722