the best morning ever

I awoke one day upon an overcast morn in Durban, South Africa. The Beach Front hostel I was saying in had more cats and guests, I drank my coffee with a beautiful smile. Life seemed interesting this day. I wandered up to the hostel owner, burly guy by the name of Steve, huge hands, great moustache.
‘What can I do today? I’ve got some really awesome caffeine related enthusiasm’
‘Hmm...well you’re about 5 minutes late. The bus just left going to Ushaka Marine Park’ he said, looking genuinely bad for my bad luck
‘Oooh, I like fishes!’ I exclaimed ‘Is there another way to get there?’
He explained that a local bus service goes there, it’ll drops me off right at the door, very easy. He gave me the numbers and directions, and I set off on my little journey.
I stood waiting for the mythical number 7 bus, where I was told I should wait, and a rather rotund gent walks up to me ‘Where are you going?’ he asked in the Afrikaans drawl
‘Ushaka Marine Park’ I happily answered
‘Oh yes, yes, come with me’ and beckons me away. ‘Wonderful!’ I thought to myself, South Africa is so nice to tourists, a meet and greet service for the buses even.
We arrive at a small van. The kind builders would use. The one’s that look like the evolutionary path the SUV has taken (and taken the hard way). It could probably, safely, fit 5 people in there. There are 10 people in there already.
Being English, I am way too polite; I can’t refuse the invitation, so I hop on in. Sitting there, a little amused at myself, and suddenly realising I’m wearing a quite bright pair of shorts. I’m the only white person. The man next to me looks a little scary. This is going to be awesome.
5 more people get on. One of the women is carrying a chicken in a cage. We set off. Inside my head I am having the most amusing time. My inner voice has gone totally Mary Poppins. ‘Well look at this, that’s me, you, I think it’s Pimms O Clock!’
We get about 10 minutes down the road, and the driver turns to me and asks ‘Where you go?’
‘Ushaka Marine Park’ I reply, bright with smiles
‘Oh, we no go there. But will find you a way’
‘Wonderful news, anyone else for tea?’ My eyes are wide, I’m having the best time.
Getting out of the vehicle over the chickens and giving a rather tall man a crotch face, I am led around the corner to where another of these taxi services are waiting. The two men ramble in Afrikaans and I am wished luck by taxi man 1, and left with Taxi man number 2. Taxi man Number 2 looks like a homeless person and is reading Dostoevsky. I promise you, this is true. He looks at me and smiles, the way a tiger would look at a weasel. I figure, the bright shorts and rather insane t shirt were probably a good look today. Sure, people may think about mugging me, but I look like I haven’t got enough sense to have money me. And there’s equal chance I might just start barking
After a few minutes he leads me to my second taxi, and again we’re bundled on. Only 15 this time, and one of them sits on his mother’s lap. We are cruising. ‘Golly Gosh, look over there, that man has an Afroed hair Cut!’
Then, 10 minutes into the journey, the Dostoevsky reader turns to me and says ‘Where you go again?’
‘Ushaka Marine Park’
‘We no go there’
‘Ah’
‘Don’t worry, we find you way there’ he nods and smiles.
‘Does anyone have a chocolate digestive? I’m finding myself a tad peckish’ my inner voice says
We get into the heart of Durban City, which is, rather insane and scary. The Dostoevsky man jumps out, and tells me to come. He walks fast through the city, shouting and waving at hawkers and stall owners. People on all sides of me babble and scrabble for me to buy their rugs and children and beads. I’m weaving through them trying to keep up with my Guide. We go through a tunnel and arrive at another taxi rank. He stands in the middle of the road, getting high fives from passing cars, and trying to wrangle another taxi. Eventually we get one, it’s blaring out music at a level only to be appreciated when on mind altering substances, I get thrown in the back, and I am once again whisked away
‘Sweep Your Chimney Governor?’.
This time the music is so loud I can’t even ask the driver if I’m going the right way. A moment of panic flitted across my mind. Stabbings, hidden bodies, big warehouses where they cut up people, wolf creek, texas chainsaw massacre, Suddenly, breaks get slammed, the music is shut off, I’m pointed at, and told
’16 rand’.
‘Erm...Ushaka Marine Park?’
‘Yeah, over there’ and they all point at a gateway down the next street. I hand over my money, and wander into a nearby pub to write about the best morning ever. I order a dusty coke from the bartender while he smiles along to Abba songs. I spent the rest of the day listening to Black Sabbath and walking around a Marine Park full of white people. It was a quite simply epic day.
When finally back at the hostel (using the more sensible and quicker way), I tell Steve my story of the day. He nods his approval and assesses me up and down
‘You’ve got guts man. People get murdered on those things all the time, not many white folks use them’.
I am so freakin’ hardcore.