A long time ago came a man on a track

Walking thirty miles with a sack on his back

And he put down his load where he thought it was the best

He made a home in the wilderness

‘If you are lost, you just need to follow the Telegraph poles in either direction. They extend north to Maphanga (Santa Maria), a small community on this Machangulo Peninsula’ Wessel explained with his South African accent.

Ja, Lekker. Easy for him to say. He has lived here for at least a decade.

I got lost. And I loved it. Nevertheless, getting lost is just part of the adventure. It’s a major part of Kuifie’s adventures.

If you don’t get lost, how do you know, that you are on the right track?

I drove directly from the border crossing at Komatiepoort into Mozambique and onwards to the ‘Maputo Elephant Reserve’. This is the gateway to the Machangulo Peninsula. Outside and north of this national park lie little local communities, living off the little this sandy land has to offer.

In total contrast, wealthy businessmen and women have bought and developed multi-million dollar holiday housing along this pristine coastline. Christa and Wessel have been working for this shareholding foundation for years. Christa runs the office and Wessel is in charge of the workshop. There is always something that needs to be urgently done on both ends.

We met 6 years ago as I visited this coastal and cultural jewel then. I was re-invited for a visit and both were expecting my arrival for this afternoon as pronounced from this morning. I arrived at the gate to this ‘Reserva Especial de Maputo’ later than hoped for, where I was met by friendly local national park staff. I only had roughly about 50 km to go, in slow-mo.

These tracks are driven on soft sand, and deflating tire pressure, and locking in 4WD hubs are essential. The friendly gate warden told me, that there were too many elephants here when I asked how many there were. I never saw one in the end. Off-road driving and spotting animals is something I will have to master in the coming months.

On the positive side, there has been lots of improvement. The tracks are much better maintained this time around. Poles with different color markings signal which track you’re traversing and the direction you are traveling. Some areas still looked very familiar to me, the lakes and swampy fields are very much the same.

Up and down the sandy hills Zimba and I went, following this Telegraph Road.

The idea of this post title was shuffled on my iPod when this exact song shuffled along the Telegraph Road .

Brilliant. One of my all-time favorites.

And the dirty old track was the Telegraph Road

A coffee break at sunset on one of the few viewpoints cleared one thing. The northern gate is still about 10 kilometers away and Christa and Wessel’s residence furthermore. I won’t make it before darkness or at all today.

The last light went off just by passing the northern gate, the Telegraph Line is hard to follow in the darkness. I drove around in circles, I think, asking locals for directions. It may just be my accent but most locals had no idea what I was talking about. I can’t blame them as many of my friends often have no idea what I am trying to say. An hour and a half into our night drive, we called it the quits. I found an even spot just behind some trees, that gave shelter from gusty northerly winds. This will be just perfect for the night. I have all I need, I need all I have.

Zimba was handling these sandy tracks extremely well. He is such a breeze to drive and steer.

I could hear the waving ocean not too far away, tomorrow is another day.

I got up slowly from the loftus tent, I slept well. I had no idea where I was, I only had the directions from the upcoming Sun. Not to worry, we’re not in a hurry.

I took Rick to the air, maybe I get a better view from up there. But no, I didn’t.

I mean, it looked spectacular, but I still had no idea which of these tracks to drive on. Time will tell. And it did. A bakkie with local people passed by and I asked in what direction I had to travel. ‘Follow this road for a kilometer and then follow the signs’ the friendly driver said. Okay, we have directions; west, south-west.

Zimba barely warmed up as I passed the arrow sign ‘office’. Hooray, we made it.

‘You missed out on pancake breakfast this morning’ Christa said as I walked in. ‘But it’s good to see you again’

Yes, I couldn’t agree more.