Lions diary, day fourteen
On I went to Durban, away from the harsh cold of the Highveld evenings and into the warmth of a sub-tropical cl-… damn.
On I went to Durban, away from the harsh cold of the Highveld evenings and into the warmth of a sub-tropical cl-… damn.
It was raining when I arrived in Durban, and six hours later as I write this, the rain has not yet ceased. We have been through most types of rain: a misty spray, those thin vertical droplets that contrive to drench you remarkably fast as you search in vain for a hire car in a park the size of a GM off-sales yard, a mathematically precise vertical torrential downpour, and the one I am listening to now, a deafening batter on the window which has you checking whether it is actually hailing or not. I miss the Highveld.
So instead of the stroll down to the sea I had hoped for, I opted to try that other of Durban's unique offerings, a curry.
The historical influence on Durban from India is huge, resulting from the British (surprise, surprise) importing labour to do all the dirty work in the sugar plantations they couldn't quite get around to doing themselves. 20 per cent of the current population of Durban is Asian.
These days, that influence extends itself mainly to a number of shops in the centre of town selling all manner of spices and other exotic goodies, and any number of curry houses (which may explain why the city is twinned with Leeds).
And so, for now and probably until I frequent the wine cellar at the White Boy Shebeen in Johannesburg, we have a new restaurant of the tour: The Jaipur Palace in Morningside. Great view, great service, wonderful value prices, and a lamb vindaloo that does not dissolve your tongue and knock your taste buds out of action for ten days, but tickles the buds that should be tickled, burns the ones that should be burned and then settles lightly on the stomach, leaving behind a lingering chilli and mustard seed flavour that serves both to remind you of the wonders you have just tasted and the perils of the morning ahead.
Which brings us onto a stats update:
Total km travelled on the tour: 2478.0 since touchdown at O.R Tambo
Highest number of times a car horn has been hooted in red fury in one day: 7. Today. The phrase 'Durban drivers' is an oxymoron.
Free drinks from the sponsors: 42 beers to date, but still stuck on only 9 bottles of wine.
Radical hangover cure: A sauna, followed by two litres of 50-50 fruit juice and water mix and a can of ginger beer.
Most surreal moment of the tour: Hearing 'Hark, the Herald Angels…' on a distant tannoy system while searching in vain for the hire car.
Best rugby match seen on the tour: Saturday's Top 14 Final. A belter.
Journal kept by Richard Anderson