Every day in Swaziland is a cracker, and you just need to look at the locals to see that. They dance and sing from sunrise to sunset, and have smiles the size of split watermelons. I had a beaut time today, too, with another exhilarating hike through the wilds of Mlilwane.
I was wokwn up early by a pack of monkeys outside my room, and ran outside to chase them through the fields. From there I bumped into a herd of zebras, before coming across a swamp full of crocodiles. The cheeky pricks kept trying to swallow cocks eat birds, but the feathered champions were too quick for them. Score one for the good guys!
Yesterday’s mountaintop heroics had me coming back for more, and this time I made it to the summit of Nyagato Peak, which offers an unrivalled outlook at the Swazi scenery. I even managed to keep my clothes on, largely because there was a creepy tribe of blackfellas banging drums not far below me, and they’d be licking their lips and preparing to toss me in a pot if they saw what I keep in my shorts.
After walking further than Olympic hero Jare Tallent I finally made it back to my hostel and rehydrated with a dozen cans of Hansa beer. There’s not a lot going on in the dark, dingy corner of Mlilwane that I’ve called home for the past few days, so I climbed into the Hyandai and cruised through the wilderness towards the main camp. It’s about 5km away and would be, I was sure, crawling with well-travelled spunks looking for a root after a long day of sizing up zebras. I was badly mistaken.
The camp’s bar was deserted, so I ordered a beer, and then another, and drank them on my lonesome while weird deer things mucked around beside me. I had the wobble boots on by the time I made it back to the car, tried to start it with a plastic spoon, and did my best to guide it down the dark, narrow track towards the other wnd of the park. I’m telling you now, it’s not easy to drive, drink a beer, dodge wildlife and sing along to Freebird at the same time.
I’d almost made it back, relieved that I didn’t have an endangered animal spiralling around my back wheel, when I turned a corner to see a massive buffalo standing there, his eyes wild and his balls shimmering in the moonlight. I slammed on the breaks, he stared at me for a while, the trudged off into the spinifex, his massive beanbags slapping from side to side. I’d never felt so close to nature – or so close to going to jail for drink driving my way up an oversized cow’s arse.
The Drunk and Jobless World Tour 