Bulungula, Part One
There’s a place on the Wild Coast of South Africa that I am sure will stack up to be one of the most memorable and most unique places we stayed on this trip. The place is Bulungula Lodge, an eco-friendly and fair trade lodge totally off the grid located in a remote area of South Africa. The Lodge is the type of place that can restore a little bit of my liberal, tree-hugging, idealistic heart that practicing law killed off with cynicism.
The Lodge was created by Dave Martin, a well-traveled man originally from Cape Town who wanted to put his ideals into action. Created in 2004, the Lodge is a partnership between Martin and the local Nqileni village, made up of Xhosa people. The village owns the riverfront/oceanfront land occupied by the Lodge, and 40% of the Lodge itself. That means locks aren’t needed on the doors of the huts for the guests and people won’t hassle you for money, because everyone has a vested interest in the business. The village selects the neediest people to work at the Lodge, such a widow who needs the income. In addition to the creation of jobs at the Lodge itself, the Lodge spawned a number of 100% community-owned and operated businesses. Guests have the opportunity to engage in horseriding, canoeing, or fishing with a guide; eat at a pancake restaurant in the village; get a massage; go on a tour of the village; spend time and work with the village women; or learn about herbs from the herbsman. Other than the Lodge, there is no other place for employment anywhere in sight. Many of the village men live in townships in Johannesburg most of the year, working in the mines and sending meager incomes back home.
The journey to get to Bulungula Lodge is part of the experience in of itself. The lodge is located somewhere somewhat near Coffee Bay on the Wild Coast of South Africa, an area with relatively unspoiled coastline and some of South Africa’s poorest people. Once you turn off of N2, the main highway – which already is not all that developed for miles – any sign of commercial life disappears, save for a gas station, one Spar grocery store, and later, a local general store or two scattered about. The first road wasn’t too bad, that is, until it started to resemble the moon. We spent a good half an hour swerving to the left and right, trying, unsuccessfully, to avoid the giant craters in the road. Once we turned off the crater road, it was dirt roads the rest of the way. The “roads” were in such bad condition, it wasn’t possible to drive faster than, say, 10 miles per hour. The drive made me fully understand the meaning of bone-jarring. Every bone in our bodies rattled and jangled as we bounced along in our little rental car for close to 3 hours(!) at a ploddingly slow pace, praying we wouldn’t get a flat tire or a giant gash in our gas tank. To top it off, I had the need to pee well before we turned off the N-2, which made each bounce extra fun.
One of the dirt/rock roads to get to Bulungula
Two white people in a tiny, decidedly non-4×4 rental car inevitably attracted much attention. Small children began to run out to the road, waving frantically at us and jumping up and down. Older children tried to look indifferent or intimidating, but inevitably one of them would sheepishly wave hello. Women carrying bushels on their head would turn and stare. As we suddenly became completely in the minority, we became very conscious of our white skin. And the fact our vehicle must have looked asinine trying to traverse roads not meant for ordinary cars.
Obviously there are no street signs. Our directions were along the lines of “turn at the second fork in the road” or “look for the building with the sign hidden behind a tree.” Luckily, there are few roads, which mean few places to get lost. Not so luckily, we still couldn’t figure out where we were going. We had picked up a cell phone for the first time on our trip only days before, and we put it too good use calling the Lodge over and over to ask, Now where do we go? This did little good; conflicting information between the map, the directions we got the day before from the owner of the Lodge, and the directions we were getting in a very thick accent over the phone caused me to end each call in frustration, turn to Sean and say, I really have no idea where we are supposed to turn.
Another of the dirt/rock roads, even deeper in
Eventually, by sheer luck or pure accident, we found the general store where we were supposed to park and walk the rest of the way. A big change for Bulungula recently had been the addition of a new dirt road heading back to camp. While the owner had told us on the phone the day before that non 4×4 cars could make it down the new road without a problem, the person we spoke with at the Lodge during our drive in indicated that the road was too muddy to try to drive it.
We started hoofing it with our packs, and quickly attracted a following. A group of young girls from the village began following us and giggling. I talked to them, even though I had no idea whether they knew English. I suspect they didn’t know much, but they did know the days of the week, which they proudly recited for me. When they saw my camera, they got excited. I had heard that the village kids liked having their pictures taken so they can see themselves on the screen. When I inquired, by motioning, whether they wanted their pictures taken, they immediately lined up and posed for the camera. Their expressions turned serious, but you can see in the pictures a hint of a smile poking through. Afterwards, I showed them their pictures on the screen, and they resumed their giggling. They continued to follow about 5 steps behind us for the next ten minutes or so, but lost interest somewhere along the way.
Village girls we encountered on way to the Lodge
Two more. They sang, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday...
Meanwhile, with a backpack digging into our full bladders, and no idea how long we had to walk, Sean and I were gravitating towards cranky fast. An older sedan came bouncing down the road and slowed to a stop in front of us. Want a ride? I bet we are going the same way! In the car was a couple from East London, South Africa, who spoke English and Xhosa and were staying at the lodge for the night. Thank goodness they picked us up; it turned out we missed the shortcut (which no one ever told us about). The drive down the new road took at least another 20 to 30 minutes, and included several more calls to the Lodge to find our way and picking up one local villager to show us the rest of the way. The kicker was that the new road was no worse than any of the other dirt roads we took that day, and other than the fact it would have taken us forever to find our way, we could have made in down the new road in our rental car.
Finally arriving at the Lodge meant two things: we finally saw why it was worth the agonizing drive…
View of the Bulungula River entering the Indian Ocean from the grounds of Bulungula Lodge
…and we finally could get to pee – in the compost toilets, of course. To be continued…
Yay! We are so super excited you guys went to Bulungula Lodge! 🙂
We came across their website a few months ago and have been really drawn to them. And we’ve only read great reviews about it…but (just being curious travelers at heart I guess) we eventually started wondering if they were the “real thing” or just a very well-marketed tourist thing. I’m so encouraged from your post that it sounds like they are indeed the real thing! 🙂
Now the only problem we have to tackle is that we don’t book lodging ahead of time when we travel (we like being able to make up our itinerary as we go)…and we know getting there is quite the mission. So hmmmm…do we just show up and hope they still have a room available? Or do we actually book ahead when we get closer to knowing what date we’ll be in the area? Decisions, decisions! 🙂
This would have been my favorite part of the trip. I know it was hell getting there, however, photographing the kids and the community would be my rainbow. What an amazing experience!!!!!
Jessica – my impression of Bulungula is that it is the real thing and not just tourist marketing. I found their website to be accurate and describe pretty much how it is in real life. We didn’t talk much with Dave, the owner, while we were there, but some other guests did and it sounds like he likes to practice his philosophies.
When will you be in South Africa? I heard that they book out for weeks in the high season (which is summer I guess). When we were there (August, in winter) you easily could show up without a reservation. If you don’t want to commit to anything in advance, I would try to call maybe the day before because if they are full, there really is nowhere to stay within miles, and it would be about a 6 hour round trip to and from the highway!
I agree w/ Danielle…that would have been totally awesome!