September 2008
Karel’s cousin Andre, kindly booked us a place to stay in Durban, called Silver Sands. We loved the 1950’s experience, with immaculate sparkling clean tile floors, neat furnishing in bright orange and blue, and wall hangings of seaside and village prints, all complete with separate twin beds. The location was perfect, minutes away from Durban’s sandy beach, the ‘golden mile’ as it is affectionately called, and uShaka, an aquarium and shopping complex.
There was an active security team at Silver Sands who wore black military style uniforms accented with a white badge displaying a red eagle, topped with perfectly shaped black berets. We quickly made friends as our polite comments were met with wide white smiles. One day after leaving the flat and discussing the security guards Karel mentioned that something was not quite South African about them, their features and their reddish skin colour didn’t quite match those of the locals. Upon inquiry we discovered that they are from the Democratic Republic of the Congo. French was their language of choice, and their smiles helped to disguise their occasional lack of understanding. Once hearing they speak French, we exchanged our English niceties for French. Word spread quickly and we became very popular. Upon our leaving one of the security guards wrote us a note saying ‘I’m happy to meet you, so glad, let God bless your travel. We can see soon. Good travel. ’. We will carry these kinds words with us.
The time we spent at Durban was mostly at the beach. We soaked up the sun, going for long walks on the beach and by apprentice surfing under the direction of Sean, a former insurer but now a seasoned surfer with a deep tan, kind creased eyes, white hair and a regular Comrades runner. We learned a great appreciation for the art of surfing as our muscles ached in every area possible. ‘Get past day three and you’re fine’ Sean advised us. Whether the three day rule is physical or psychological it worked.
Not ones to sit around, we also signed up for dive courses. I did my Open Water course and Karel did his Advanced Dive. Our first few dives took place in the uShaka aquarium’s Snorkel lagoon where we dove in clear water surrounded by Wasse, Parrot fish, Surgeon, Big eye, Squirrel and Soliders amongst others. Karel got to take photos and ID fish, whereas I got to practise taking my mask and regulator off. I then advanced to the big leagues, the sea. We went shore diving by a coral. The visibility was poor and I was terrified and felt extremely claustrophobic. My brilliant instructor, Lisa held my hand. It’s amazing how fear and age are completely unrelated. At 28, I felt small and scared and had to put my complete trust into Lisa. Karel, the seasoned diver, meanwhile was busy working on his navigation skills and using a compass. We also went out in the rubber duck, captained by Gerry for an 18m dive. The sea was rough and although queasy, Karel was the one to fed the fishes. Visibility wasn’t great but was improved. My favourite sighting was a Monitar Stringray, who was yellowish with black spots and had two bulging cartoon eyes like Coyote right before his plans to get the roadrunner backfire and he sees what lies ahead. Our last dive was at the Quarry, a well known party sight for some (a.k.a. Kirk). It’s also the training site for industrial divers who dive 100s of metres to wield underwater. It was cool to see their moon suits and their umbilical cords, the cables which transport oxygen and nitrogen and provide a means of communication to those above land.
Karel’s cousin Andre, kindly booked us a place to stay in Durban, called Silver Sands. We loved the 1950’s experience, with immaculate sparkling clean tile floors, neat furnishing in bright orange and blue, and wall hangings of seaside and village prints, all complete with separate twin beds. The location was perfect, minutes away from Durban’s sandy beach, the ‘golden mile’ as it is affectionately called, and uShaka, an aquarium and shopping complex.
There was an active security team at Silver Sands who wore black military style uniforms accented with a white badge displaying a red eagle, topped with perfectly shaped black berets. We quickly made friends as our polite comments were met with wide white smiles. One day after leaving the flat and discussing the security guards Karel mentioned that something was not quite South African about them, their features and their reddish skin colour didn’t quite match those of the locals. Upon inquiry we discovered that they are from the Democratic Republic of the Congo. French was their language of choice, and their smiles helped to disguise their occasional lack of understanding. Once hearing they speak French, we exchanged our English niceties for French. Word spread quickly and we became very popular. Upon our leaving one of the security guards wrote us a note saying ‘I’m happy to meet you, so glad, let God bless your travel. We can see soon. Good travel. ’. We will carry these kinds words with us.
The time we spent at Durban was mostly at the beach. We soaked up the sun, going for long walks on the beach and by apprentice surfing under the direction of Sean, a former insurer but now a seasoned surfer with a deep tan, kind creased eyes, white hair and a regular Comrades runner. We learned a great appreciation for the art of surfing as our muscles ached in every area possible. ‘Get past day three and you’re fine’ Sean advised us. Whether the three day rule is physical or psychological it worked.
Not ones to sit around, we also signed up for dive courses. I did my Open Water course and Karel did his Advanced Dive. Our first few dives took place in the uShaka aquarium’s Snorkel lagoon where we dove in clear water surrounded by Wasse, Parrot fish, Surgeon, Big eye, Squirrel and Soliders amongst others. Karel got to take photos and ID fish, whereas I got to practise taking my mask and regulator off. I then advanced to the big leagues, the sea. We went shore diving by a coral. The visibility was poor and I was terrified and felt extremely claustrophobic. My brilliant instructor, Lisa held my hand. It’s amazing how fear and age are completely unrelated. At 28, I felt small and scared and had to put my complete trust into Lisa. Karel, the seasoned diver, meanwhile was busy working on his navigation skills and using a compass. We also went out in the rubber duck, captained by Gerry for an 18m dive. The sea was rough and although queasy, Karel was the one to fed the fishes. Visibility wasn’t great but was improved. My favourite sighting was a Monitar Stringray, who was yellowish with black spots and had two bulging cartoon eyes like Coyote right before his plans to get the roadrunner backfire and he sees what lies ahead. Our last dive was at the Quarry, a well known party sight for some (a.k.a. Kirk). It’s also the training site for industrial divers who dive 100s of metres to wield underwater. It was cool to see their moon suits and their umbilical cords, the cables which transport oxygen and nitrogen and provide a means of communication to those above land.
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