It might be called South Africa, but it isn't Africa

I'm safe and sound in Pretoria now, but where I was overwhelmed in Bulawayo, I'm floored in Pretoria. I feel like I'm in LA. I don't like it. But I do like being able to leave my stuff at the hostel and feel relatively confident that it'll be there and untampered with when i get back.

Matt arrives tomorrow evening. We're going to take it easy for 2 days here while he deals with jetlag. Then we are planning to head to Swaziland.

My SA number is +27 79 056 7329

Back in Zimbabwe...
I finally ventured out on my own and took a bus from Bulawayo to Masvingo (pronounced Mashingo), where the ruins of Great Zimbabwe are. I camped for the last time in my little dinky tent. Gonna miss ya old fella. The ruins are pretty incredible. They were just as awe inspiring as the pyramids in Guatemala, I think the "experts" think these were erected waaaaayyyyy earlier than any anywhere else. I'll have to google that one, but I'm intrigued for sure.

The locals continued to be fantastically friendly, though English very quickly dropped out of the surrounding conversations. Everyone I talked to though was still fluent. I randomly met a handful of folks that wanted me to come stay with them.

My bus to South Africa situation was a less charming story, however. It was 6 HOURS late in leaving! Was supposed to go at 5pm, and we left after 11pm. The delay? Rain. Sigh. I had to sit at a petrol station and most of the time there was a torrential downpour outside. I felt like I was in the movie 'Romancing the Stone' watching the local buses pass through, people pouring off, scarfing down food, and pouring back on. Best, though, was the loading of these buses. I'm used to overcrowding and overpacking, but this exceeded even the worst I'd seen. At one point a man was standing on top of the bus (an old school bus) and the parcels were stacked on top a full half-body-length above his head! (And he was probably around 6ft.) They'd lumber off into the rainy night. I'm amazed there aren't more accidents.

When my bus finally came I got bumped from a window to an aisle, no reclining seats, no foot rest. But at least I got my own seat and luggage was safe below. At 3am we hit the Beit Bridge border. This commenced the absolute worst border experience I've ever had. We waited outside, in the pouring rain, for over 3 hours. Yep, we weren't through until around 6:15am. @#$#@ @#$^%$#% @#$@@@#%%^^!!!!!!!!

After that the driver had had enough of all the delays and we slammed straight through to Pretoria/Joburg without stopping. I got in around 2pm I think.

Now I'm twiddling my thumbs in relative comfort...waiting for the boy. Everyone still loves my braids and I'm getting stopped on the street asking where I had them done (and how much I paid.)