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There are two different police forces in SA. One for traffic only and the other for beating up bad guys. The traffic guys are pretty mean when it comes to their job and as we drove to Durban on Monday they were out on the hunt in force. We had been warned that they were having a zero tolerance Easter weekend and so we drove bang on the speed limits. We also prepared for them by emptying our wallets of cash but leaving just a 50 rand note. You see these guys have zero tolerance on breaking traffic laws but it seems they have plenty of tolerance for breaking one other law.

About 6 hours into our 8 hour drive, with me at the wheel, the dreaded moment came. A cop suddenly appeared under a bridge on the motorway and motioned me over to the side. It was a cheetah moment all over again. My heart was racing but I knew my car had not been. He checked my driving licence, checked out the tax and insurance and………..and just sent us on our way! No grief, no bribe, no local jail. Perhaps he had seen in my wallet and saw a meesley 50 or perhaps the stories just aren’t true. I couldn’t get away quick enough but I was so flustered I indicated with my wind screen wipers before moving back into a 120kph motorway. We reckon he pulled us over expecting us to be a taxi as they mostly use the big toyota bus we have on hire and the taxis could certainly do with being pulled over.

There are taxis everwhere and they stop where ever some one sticks their finger out. They are used like the black taxis are used in Belfast: like a bus. However unlike a black taxi which seats 5 and so carries 5, the taxis here seat 10 but carry 20!!! As we drive along the roads many people mistake us for a taxi and waggle their finger at us expecting us to stop. But we leave them to catch a ride on the next available death trap.

It seems many vehicles here are in bad condition. Every mile or so there is a broken down car or someone with a puncture. And all along every road are people walking; just walking. I have never seen so many people walking and it’s not the white guys it’s the poor black folk, the white folk drive.

And driving is what we did for nearly 8 hours leaving centurion early so we could still have some of the daylight to enjoy at our destination.

We arrived at banana beach just before 2pm and were quickly in our togs and into the sea. Not just any old sea… no …. the Indian Ocean.

Our villa is in a camp site adjoining the stunning beach. We spent most of Tuesday soaking up the rays and playing in the giant breaking waves. Swimming was called off early when some kids were stung by a nasty little jelly fish called a blue bottle.

We took a drive out to a curio market to buy sovieners. The ladies who ran each stall were very poor and it pained the heart to not buy from each of their stalls. It was nice to help some of them, and I guess that is the way life goes, you can’t help everyone but you can make a difference for a few.

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