Johannesburg- Following a hiatus when we were prevented from travelling, I decided on a whim to hit the road.
The pandemic has been cruel to the tourism industry and others, and I wanted to play my part. The news cycle had already been depressing with the tourism minister taking an unprovoked swipe at the judiciary, and the usual tyre-burning at universities when they reopened.
When DJ Fresh and his estranged wife revealed they were headed towards splitsville after 20 years of matrimony, I decided to switch off and burn the rubber. The industry took a hit during the hard lockdowns that grounded the aviation industry and kept international travellers away.
There is nothing like a road trip to cut loose and just admire the lay of the land. Thus I took off from Gauteng to the Eastern Cape. Like a character in a horror movie, I had no idea where I was headed. I meandered out of Joburg and headed towards Bloemfontein where I cooled my heels.
I did not waste much time in Mangaung, fearing the potholes that led to protests last year. I then headed to Aliwal North to the only province I have never explored in my adventures. The next morning, I got a call from a friend who told me that his friend had shot his lover, a nursing assistant at Tembisa Hospital in a fit of rage, after discovering that the child was not his. That’s more depressing news.
I switched my phone off and proceeded towards Barkely East, then Engcobo, the birthplace of struggle stalwart Walter Sisulu. I wanted to honour the fallen giant and report that his daughter was ruffling government feathers, but the museum was closed, so I had to pass.
I headed to Mthatha, arriving at General Bantu Holomisa’s old stomping ground at dusk. I asked for directions to the nearest Chisanyama to familiarise myself with the local folk. An old acquaintance advised me to tone down my Zulu and speak Sotho if I wanted to strike it lucky with the local girls.
In typical Vusi fashion, I shed my rudimentary Xhosa and went on a charm offensive as I placed my order. Indeed, this sparked some interest and I soon located a prospective Valentine’s Day partner. However, some hooligans spoiled my day when they grabbed someone by the breeches and yanked his H1 truck keys.
I was a witness to a hijack, my newfound flame explained to me. I had seen enough. Off to my next excursion to the coast.
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