A COUCHSURFING EXPERIENCE IN DURBAN

I’m writing this post to let people know better about couchsurfing (CS) – an organisation for travellers that helps people make friends and find free accommodation. I started using CS in Korea where I hosted foreigners in my tiny apartment. Guys and girls I had never met from places like Canada, Russia, Slovenia, China and Mexico, slept on my sofa bed, their feet right next to my head. They also joined my friends and I for dinner or parties and when I’d free time I showed them around my neighbourhood.
Except for a couple of nights in Dubai on my way home to Ireland last year, I hadn't "surfed" (been the guest rather than the host) a lot before coming to Africa. But thus far on this trip I've been surfing lots and using the CS groups/forums to find people to hang out with and get useful, up to date info on the cities I visit and activities I want to do. I can’t tell you just how great it is. I flew to Africa not knowing a single person on the whole continent, but immediately landed to a room, a new friend, a social circle and insider info on the best places to go, eat and things to do. That was Joey, my host in Johannesburg. And because of him and his hospitality I staedy much, much longer in that city than originally planned.
On CS everyone has a profile page which shows photos, info, countries travelled, friends, and most importantly for safety, references. The references are brief comments categorised as positive, negative or neutral left by other couchsurfers. These comments are visable to all members and it’s possible to contact the member who left such comments for more information. So, for example, if someone stayed with me three nights in Seoul, he would leave a reference stating that I was (or was not) a good host. I would in turn, leave him a reference saying he was a good guest; polite, interesting, fun, etc.
As I’ve hosted quite a bit and have a lot of positive references, I think that makes other people more receptive to hosting me when I send “couch requests” or ask someone to hang out.
I recently took a three-night trip to the South African beach city of Durban and CS was massively helpful.
In preparation for this short trip, which I wanted to make the most of, I firstly joined the Durban group – a kind of forum where people can organise events, ask for info or find someone to travel with. After joining the group I put up a post stating the dates I would be in Durban, what my rough plans were and that I would love to hang out with other Couchsurfers there If possible.
Then I sent individual couch requests to Durban couchsufers who had their “couch status” set as “available”. These requests are supposed to be individualised and specific to the person you’re asking for a sofa as it’s not just a free hotel service, rather a network for passionate travellers to help one another. And by the way, it’s not always a couch you get. In my experience it is usually a bed, often a room but of course it can also just be a space on the floor.
A local man called Dave accepted my request. Dave turned out to be awesome; a former cop who now has his own business distributing remote control planes, cars and helicopters. He’s older than me, but is a fun-loving and kind man living his dream. Dave picked me up at the bus station in Durban then took me back to his place to shower after the long journey. I got my own room, a little unkempt with a remote control vehicle orgy taking up one side of the room, but clean and comfortable nonetheless.
After freshing up, Dave and I chatted and got to know each other. CS chat usually revolves around travel initially, as that’s the common ground we all share. Then we headed out to sushi restaurant to celebrate Dave’s birthday with his friends. So instantly I was brought into a group of local people who I could befriend and ask about their city and their lives. Dinner, booze and conversation and then home.
The next morning Dave had to work so I went into town to meet a couple of other couchsurfers who had replied to my post. Two local girls met me for brunch at their favourite promenade restaurant. One had been to Northern Ireland so we had a lot to chat about and enjoyed a nice sunny walk along the promenade where I learned about their jobs, studies and travels.
In the afternoon I did my own thing – a shark cage dive and some exploring and then went back to Dave’s to rest for a bit. That evening another couchsurfer, Laura, who had replied to my post invited me for some home-cooked food at her place with her boyfriend and friends. She even offered to pick me up from Dave’s. I went along with a bottle of wine and had a lovely dinner on their veranda with nice music and conversation. They drove me back at the end of the night and invited me to join them surfing some morning. Wonderful!
The next day, Dave had some free time so brought me to see Little India, the marina and to eat local food at his favourite Indian restaurant. We chilled in the afternoon over a few beers and talked about our upcoming trips; his to China and Thailand and mine to other African countries. Dave also took me to meet his sister and brother in-law, an Irish expat musician. We hung out in his swimming pool with cold beers and I got some useful advice (which I'll probably forget or ignore) about the dangers of the African countries I'll go to next. And later on, as a thank-you to Dave, I bought some groceries and cooked us dinner at home.
That night Laura, the girl who had me over for dinner, texted to say tomorrow's waves would be good and offered to pick me up at 05:45 for some early morning surf before my bus back to Joburg. Of course I said yes despite the early hour.
Next morning Laura picked me up and we hit the beach. Her boyfriend lent me his extra board and another friend who joined gave me a few pointers on handling the waves. We spent an hour and a half out in the warm water as the early morning sun rose. It was a specatacular experience and I felt very privileged to be doing something so awesome with local folk. I was also envious of these guys who regularly surf BEFORE going to work. What a wonderful way to start the day. Laura told me that on some very clear days dolphins come to surf the waves with them. Wow!
After surfing, we dried off, I said goodbye and thanked the guys, and Laura dropped me back at Dave’s in time for breakfast and coffee. She even gave me a couple of CDs – music which I had complimented during dinner at her place. How thoughtful. Dave then drove me to the bus station from where I was once again on my own.
So there you have it; a three-day, insider experience with fun people doing fun things for very little money. None of these people knew me, knew of me, or knew anyone I knew and still they went out of their way to ensure I had a great time in their city. This is couchsurfing.

Brunch with couchsurfers at the beach.


Dinner and surf host; the awesome Laura.


Surfs up!


Big Dave - the host with the most.

AFRICA UPDATE (06 FEB)

Well, I’ve been in Africa just over two months. I’ve been terrible at blogging, sorry. However over the next five weeks I will endeavour to write more and I expect to have the time and energy to do so.
Since the end of November, when I arrived, I’ve been using Johannesburg (Joburg) as a base. My initial plan of spending just two nights in the infamous and dangerous city quicky changed as my couchsurfing host brought me into his social circles and invited me to cool events like pool parties as well as taking me to the city’s best restaurants and clubs. So I stayed on much longer than expected. Using Joburg as my base, I’ve taken trips to three other countries; Swailand, Lesotho and Mozambique. I plan to write about these countries in depth (well, at least as much depth as I could see in my short time visiting. I’ve also visited Kruger National Park, Durban, the Panorama Route (a scenic road north of Joburg), and a bizarre Hindu festival.
I’ve done a lot of partying since arriving on this continent, perhaps too much and perhaps at the cost of other activitivities like scuba diving, bungee jumping, etc. But I’ve loved everywhere I have been and met so many amazing people along the way. Everyday I learn something new, which is shocking because I thought I already knew everything.
Right now, I’m typing this on an Intercape bus from Joburg to Gaborone, the capital of Botswana. From tomorrow I will volunteer at a nature reserve called Mokolodi. They have an expensive, but seemingly well organised and comprehensive volunteer programme that lasts five weeks. This is ideal for me right now as it’s time for my annual 6-week detox (previously known as "Lent"). The nature reserve is 17km from the city and I’m currently the only volunteer, so evenings will be quiet, perhaps even lonely, but that’s ok; it will give me opportunity to write about the things I’ve seen and done as well as some reading time. I hope to use this time very productively following so much hedonism. I plan to run (bye bye beer belly), eat healthy (I have to cook my own meals), read a lot (finally put that Kindle to use), and perhaps consider my future plans and what I will do after Africa (???).
Thanks for your patience and stay tuned for lots of posts and photos.

OUCH! AN ARABIAN HAIRCUT

Ouch! I’ve just been for my first haircut in Africa. I went to the local barbers which turned out to be run by Jordanians. The haircut itself was fine and the hairdresser understood my English reasonably well, but, ouch!
The price of 140 Rand(£10) also included eyebrows, ears and nose. I’d never had these parts dealt with at a barber before, or anywhere else for that matter. But “what the heck”, I thought; I’m at the age where things start to go a bit crazy in those areas anyway.
After the haircut and some small talk about life in Jordan (note to readers: don’t ask Jordanians if they have a crazy night life and hot chicks in their country. They are Muslims and that question may not go down well. Oops!), my barber picked up some Q-tips, the type you clean your ears with. He soaked them in a nicely-scented, warm liquid and placed one in each of my ears. Then he did the same thing to my nostrils. It was unusual, but quite pleasant and I enjoyed the warmth and smell.
While the Q-tips were sticking out of me, the barber took something that looked like dental floss and started wrapping it around his fingers in a skilled and quick manner. Then he attacked me with the floss. He started with my cheeks; twisting and sliding and yanking. I could feel the fuzz and all the hairs too high for my morning shave being ripped out. Ouch, what a sting! He kept at it, all over my face: cheeks, forehead, above the eyebrows, between the eyebrows, and then, the most painful part: my ears. Ouch! Such sharp, stinging and continuous pain. Water was streaming from my eyes, but I was so worried that my barbers fast movements would ram one of the Q-tips into my already damaged brain, that I just sat as still as possible trying not to flinch or whimper.
I breathed a sigh of relief when the floss was put away, but the worst was yet to come. The Q-tips which were still sticking into my nose and ears of me had to come out. I thought they were just soaked in a solution that would soften things up. But actually they had been covered in HOT WAX! I had no idea or I would have definitely protested.
The first nostril Q-tip was unceremoniously and without warning yanked out. I shouted a surprised expletive and the barber apologised, but quickly proceeded to do the same thing again with the other nose hole. And then both ears. Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch. And after each yank, he smilingly showed me the end of the Q-tip, smiling with pride at how much hair he had gotten out, or perhaps smiling at how much pain he had given this foolish white infidel.
Unfortunately inside my nose was extra hairy because the barber said “Sorry. More”, (though he didn’t look at all sorry) and put two fresh Q-tips up my nose. While the wax dried I regained my composure and searched the mirror for any blood on my face. I was fine, just a bit rosy and bleary-eyed. I debated with myself if I left right then, how long would it take for the Q-tips to fall out naturally. Five weeks? Six weeks? Would the humiliation of walking around like that be worth it for missing another couple of yanks? I decided not and took a deep breath.
When it was all over I asked my barber to show me how he did the dental floss thing. He explained it is an Indian technique and they just use normal sewing thread. He demonstrated on my arm by twisting a loop of thread, placing it across the arm, then pulling the loop closed so that it grabs the hair, then yanking. Ouch!
The nasal and ear waxing is an Italian technique, he informed me. God I hate the Italians. But I was glad of this new experience. I’m writing this almost an hour after and I still feel like I’ve been slapped by a granny for trying to steal a handbag. Ah well, at least my face is fuzz-free (for a few days anyway).

The image is a cool map I found on wikipedia when checking which countries make up the Arab World. These are the countries with their flags; basically north Africa and the Middle East. What a massive area!

HAIKU

A lone and wise moth
Ignored the oil lamp's alure;
Found comfort on me.

(Shewula Camp, Swaziland 05/12/12)

BIG BAD BUS

Walking around Johannesburg today I saw this mean-looking vehicle parked at a bus stop. Walking past I was very curious as to what it was. Then I saw a lady go to the counter, pay for something, then get off. I wanted to ask what the vehicle was, but felt intimated because it looked so menacing. After deliberating for a few moments, I doubled back and climbed aboard.
Through the metal bars and thick Perspex screen I asked the driver what the bus was for. He mumbled something incomprehensible. I asked him to repeat it and he mumbled, again incomprehensively, but this time in a very unfriendly tone. A black man in a dirty chef's uniform climbed aboard and asked me "Howzit?" (the local greeting). He seemed infinitely more approachable so I asked him about the bus’ purpose.
I learned that this vehicle is for people to top up their bus cards, which they use on the orange, public buses here. My new friend, the chef, wasn't sure why they used this system, but suggested it was for the safety of the bus drivers. My guess is that because these orange buses go into some very poor and dangerous areas (the townships) it's best to not have cash aboard. All the cash must be kept in these armored vehicles which are less likely to be held up. Though the chef told me these armoured buses get robbed frequently and that would explain the driver’s gruffness.
The chef and I spoke for a while. He works in the apartment complex adjacent to the bus stop. I told him that my brother is a chef, though probably not as good as him. The chef asked me if I knew Soweto. I said I did. It's the township that I visited at the start of my trip. Chef is from Soweto. He asked me about my country and the type of housing there. He didn't know where Ireland was, but I drew a map on the bus' greasy wall. He asked if everyone was rich and I told him no, but he didn’t seem to believe me.

AFRICA SO FAR

I arrived in Johannesburg almost four weeks ago. I had planned to stay only two nights, and yet, here I still am, loving it.
The couchsurfer I stayed with, Joey, was an amazing, fun and generous host. He brought me into his huge social circle and I immediately met lots of other cool people and new friends through him. And because of that, I'm still here.
My time here so far has mostly been like a holiday so far. The weather is mostly hot and dry and the apartments where I stay have a pool, so it feels like a holiday resort to me. I took a trip to Swaziland alone which was very interesting. I also traveled long the Panorama Route and to Kruger Park with a Korean friend. I'll blog about these trips later.
My time here in Jo'burg has mostly been spent partying - bars, clubs, pool parties, birthday parties, waterparks, and other awesome stuff like that. I have also visited a township and some markets, but mostly I’ve just been eating great food and socialising with locals and expats. So far so good.
Jo’burg itself is a fascinating city with a clear and large gap between the rich and poor. I’ve sampled the animosity people often speak of here and I’ve seen snipets of the poverty. I’m also experiencing the finer elements of life here – maids that visit daily, rooftop bars, cruising in fancy cars and other things that I’m highly UNaccustomed to. But I’ll write more about this notorious city later since I’m seeing and experiencing new and unusual things every day.

Big Madiba at Nelson Mandela Square.

PRE-DEPARTURE FEELINGS (AFRICA)

Tomorrow I fly to Johannesburg, South Africa, to start my own solo trip through the Dark Continent. I don't know where I'll go, what I'll do, who I'll meet or when I'll come home. But I do know that it will be an adventure.
I've been dreaming of this trip for years. And now I finally go. I've been nervous, apprehensive and downright scared over the last few weeks while reading up on some of Africa's countries. But now that the time is near, I feel excited and confident.
I'm living the dream life. I'm lucky and privileged to have this chance. I'm going to grasp it with both hands see where it takes me.
People have been asking me why Africa; why I want to go there. I can't seem to find an answer that satisfies them. I guess the most honest answer is Because I haven't been there. And because it will be a great challenge, and I want to test myself. I'm curious about the world and want to see everywhere, but especially Africa as it seems so different to everywhere else I've been. In ten years of travel, I have never set foot aywhere in Africa, not Morocco, Tunisia, Egypt. Not even a stopover on a flight to Asia. So it will really be a new, untouched world to me.
There isn't some specific thing which draws me to Africa. There are no mountains, beaches, natural wonders or festivals that I've been dreaming of. Of course there will be an abundance of natural beauty, rich cultures and interesting foods. But mostly I just want to travel in Africa, alone, and see that I can rise to the challenges that are presented to me whilst, hopefully, learning about new peoples and places. That's it.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 62 (LONDON - HOME)

Today I returned to Ireland. I rarely fly when traveling between London and Ireland. I'm sure there are very cheap flights when you book in advance. But I rarely have a planned schedule which allows me to book far in advance. And I personally find train and ferry travel much more enjoyable, dignified and less stressing that budget airlines and busy airports. It's also handy if you have a lot of luggage as there are no restrictions like airlines have.
There is a "Rail and Sail" ticket which I usually get from Euston Station, London up to Hollyhead (a port town in Wales) and then the ferry crossing to Dublin. It costs less than £40, but is a full days travel. I don't mind the full days travel as it's nice time for thinking, reading and writing. Though more often than not, there are very interesting people sat next to me and I don't get any of those things done.
On this trip, I was especially lucky with seat-mates. On the long train journey to Wales I was next to a South African man in his sixties. I say South African, but really he fits into that hippy category "Citizen of the World". He was such a fascinating guy. He grew up in Africa, has traveled all over the world, lives in Goa, India, has a girlfriend in London, and was on his way to an Irish farm to spend the winter helping out for free board and food. Some of the stories I coaxed out of him were side-splittingly funny. When telling me about his travels in Eritrea, northeast Africa, he recalled that the local alcohol was so good that his girlfriend vomited and he wet the bed.
Initially he seemed standoffish, perhaps because I had been sitting in his seat (accidentally of course). But when he realised we share a passion for travel, he opened up, I mean, he really opened up. During the hours we spent on the tracks I heard about his travels throughout the world, about his business in Goa (selling T-shirts), about his twenty-one year old daughter dying suddenly of cervical cancer, and of his own battle with Parkinson's disease.
I had noticed a slight twitch when he boarded the train. And a couple of hours later, he was really shaking. I didn't want to ask about his condition, but was really glad when he brought it up because I was curious. Man, he made so many jokes about his Parkinson's. He told me he gets so many compliments on the dance floor from girls back in India. "But", he said, "I can't help it. It's the Parkinson's making me shake like that. They think I'm pole dancing, but I'm holding the pole so I don't fall over." Haha, what a legend. And on the laptop he had with him, he told me he had tons of unwanted files from accidentally clicking downloads all the time. I really love a person who can make jokes about themselves. And I have a lot of respect for him going to Ireland to do physical work over the cold, wet months despite his condition. He was diagnosed with the illness in 1989, but has only recently starting taking medication. Before that, he just maintained a positive attitude and tried to manage without meds. Though he did admit to having tried some alternative medicines such as blood draining.
We chatted about all sorts of other things too including Atheism which we seemed to be on the same page about. He said "my god is spelled with two Os", which I thought was brilliant, and made many other witty comments like "I'm not saying I don't believe in an invisible world".
We parted ways in Hollyhead to take different ferries as both Stena Line and Irish Ferries operate there. Boarding the boat I got talking to a Portuguese girl who was on her way to visit friends in Dublin. She was fun and interesting and we sat together on the boat and enjoyed a little packed lunch picnic, coffee and plenty of joking around. She, Mariana, coincidentally is living in Hackney, quite close to Karol. She is doing a PhD in Archaeology which sounds both fascinating and fun. I had never thought of archaeology as a fun field before speaking to her, but actually it does sound quite appealing. When a team is doing a dig they can be somewhere way out in the wild, sleeping in tents and living quite rough. That sounds adventurous as well as the bond and comradery one must experience working like that. And of course, there is discovery; one of the reasons people travel so much - to discover, to learn, to find something new. Maybe I'll start digging holes.
In Dublin Ma and Da picked me up and drove me north for some good, home-cooked food and a good nights sleep.

Making new friends right up until the end.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 61 (LONDON)

We had a barbecue at Karol's this evening. Aussie James and Finnish Suvi, backpackers I met in Sarajevo, but who are living in London came over. It was a good chance to catch up and have a laugh about the good times we had. London is a great place to live. So many different nationalities are here and it seems easy to meet new people and have a good social life. Pity it's so expensive.

EURO-JOURNAL DAY 60 (LONDON)

Caught the tube to Vauxhall to meet Rachel for lunch. Rachel is an English girl I met in a free Korean class at a church in Seoul four years ago. I think I was the only atheist in our class at the church, but I got on really well with Rachel and a Canadian guy called Greg so we formed a study group together. Both Rachel and Greg left Korea after completing their one year contracts, but we always make an effort to meet up whenever we happen to be in the same country.
A homeless guy sat next to me on the subway. He smelled a little of booze and didn't seem to have any full teeth, just the bases of them were visible. And his nose was pretty flattened, looking like it had been broken more than once. He was a big guy, but didn't seem aggressive so when he asked about my Kindle, which I was reading from, I explained how it's different from an iPad. For the next four or five stops he talked to me about his old drinking buddy James and how he'd died when he was just 38. He got a bit teary eyed and then started to talk about life in the sixties. He said he was from Manchester originally, and I said I was from Northern Ireland. He mentioned George Best and said he was disappointed that George went back on the booze after his operation. At his stop we shook hands and said good luck. I was pretty pleased with myself for chatting to him because, to be honest, I'd usually feel uncomfortable in this type of situation and try to get out of it.
Rachel and I had some lunch in a pub - quite a fancy lunch actually, which seems to be the trend for pub grub these days. It was great to catch up and to reminisce on the past. She's working for an NGO and oversees fundraising. It sounds like a great job - challenging and creative and she even gets to go on "business trips" to Zimbabwe. Not a bad gig! When Rachel went back to work, I went to a tea house she recommended. A pretty place that the waitress described as Harry Potterish. At 5 or 6 pound for a cup of tea, it would need to be magic.
I met my younger cousin Gerard at about six. He's from the same place as me, but has been living in London for the last few years. I don't know him as well as I know my other cousins so looked forward to spending some time with him. He recently graduated and is working at a Wetherspoon pub in Kingston while looking for a graduate job. His pub serves quite a variety of European beers so it was good to continue to beer sampling tradition tradition of this trip. Gerard seems to be doing great - content, but focused - he looks to have bright future ahead of him. It's good that he's living away from home and in a big city with opportunities. I think doing that broadens people's horizons and gives them confidence to try more challenging things. I know that my time in Korea, surrounded by good people who believed in me, certainly made me feel more confident and optimistic about the future.
Karl came down too and joined us for a few pints. But, as always, a few pints turned into a session and it was another belly-full.