Drakensberg to Jo-burg




Jungle of eye-mighty events and music for people in trouble. The war of the insects and turmoil of leftover bites. The fall of the rainbow nation and the rise of the mob affairs.


Instead of the desired and pre-imagined contemplation experience, silence and mountaineer spirit, I arrived into Drakensberg area right in the middle of South African long weekend. Welcome to South Africa! Braai, all day drinking, alcoholic breakfasts, late night drunken talks and people coming into your room in a fugue state thinking it is actually their chambers. I got so upset that I have hidden myself in the area far, far away from the bar and guilty watched the entire season of Game of Thrones without having an eye contact with the actual human being for a day. 

Now, about that mountaineer experience. Ladders and chains – no, thank you. I go with families, kids and people in sneakers, flip flops and plastic bags. I chose completely unambitious and extremely not challenging trail in favour of the hottest view points on the top of the Dragon mountains. 

Soon after, I rushed to Jo-burg and decided to stay in Maboneng district. Yes, I’d love me some of that industrial places, organic stores, art galleries, murals, boutique whatevers and beautiful people. You know what – I loved it. I really did.

And lord, I loved this city, too. 

Jo-burg is scary and extremely attractive at the same time. You’ll love it if you are, by nature, a firefly. You know what I am talking about, right?

I felt in love with the city with no heartbeat. The postmodern  town centre full of quirky sky scrapers. All of them empty, my dear friends, all of them abandoned in the apocalypse of post-apartheid. And there is a real war going on out there. Illegal squatters, the unwanted and poor are the real mayors of this deserted part of town. Garbage, urine smell, crime and ever-lasting hustle. The crippled institutions unable to deal with the post-apocalyptic mess. Mob justice coming to fix the problems of living in this forgotten town. Is it dangerous – yes, it is. You have to be street wise and watch your steps. You’ll be fine or you won’t. Easy as that.

You watch garbage bags flying with the crazy winter wind and you hear music all around. People are dancing on the street corners of Soweto.  They create, they sing, they dance, they make art. They go for a daily hustle runs. They believe in dollar and they want to get out. Or they stay in, drinking themselves unconscious until they feel it is all fine.  They live in the numbers or in the upcoming, middle class part of the forgotten town. The rich are hanging out in hot bars. Immigrants from all over Africa are trying to get into this weird dreamland.  They are your Uber drivers.They remain strangers. There is no rainbow nation. It remains divided.  But it is alive.

My last morning in Jo-burg I woke up with millions of bed bugs bites. I thought – well, there must be a punishment where there is a crime. What really happened in Jo-burg must stay in this odd, behind-comprehension town.

How was it? It’s all in this tune (thanks Alex!). Give it a listen and go for your own hike.



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