Safety cycling across South Africa

I just completed cycling across the country I was born and raised in, travelling 2,300km through the mountains and rural areas of South Africa from Cape Town to Durban. I was told I was crazy; that I’d be shot; I’d be eaten by a lion; many other dire predictions. But then those who had actually done the journey said it was fine. I wanted to go to see for myself.

I was born and raised in Cape Town. So I knew the horrors of the worst parts of the city. Therefore I avoided cycling through any major cities, skirting around Port Elizabeth and stopping just short of Durban. Crime is rife in those areas. My experience in the rural areas was far from it. I came through with zero issues, only feeling a little uneasy in a couple of situations. I didn’t even carry a bike lock!

When you think about it, it makes sense. People move to the cities from rural areas looking for work, only to find a lack of job opportunities. Whereas they were able to sustain themselves by growing their own food, they can’t in the cities. Then they turn to drugs and alcohol, and that leads them to crime. Oversimplification sure, but it’s my rough understanding. The wealth gap also seems to be less present in the rural areas, only existing between farmer owners and workers.

Rural dwellers also have far fewer people rushing through their area. They probably see many cyclists, so when I ride past it intrigues many of them. I had loads of kids cheer me along. While many locals didn’t seem to want to talk, those I did stop and talk with were often quite interested in my story. I had some really touching experiences in some places, which I hope to get around to in future writings. When you get such a feeling from someone, they aren’t going to attack or try to steal anything from you. Such crime also often results more from the mob mentality only present in larger cities.

Perhaps the most nerve-wracking times were leaving my bike outside a shop while I went inside. I’d ask a security guard or someone working there to watch over my bike. This worked easily in all but two cases: once I had to ask several people before finding someone who seemed reluctant to do so (she was too busy focused on her job?), and another time the security guards were too focused on checking that shoppers had paid for everything in their bags. I’d take my phone in with me, and stash my bike computer in one of the bike’s bags. With this strategy, I had zero issues. Most of the bigger shops also had security cameras, and with the smaller ones I could keep an eye on my bike most of the time.

The other time I had to leave my bike unattended was at camp while sleeping. Most of the time I was either at a formal camping site or lodge, and the formal sites gave a much higher sense of safety so I never worried once. A few times though I would wild camp, finding a place in the bushes on the side of the road. These were nerve-wracking at times, but I had done it plenty of times in the UK and my strategy is to find a place where people are unlikely to spot me. Once was amongst large (non-poisonous) spiders and cows, which I was more concerned about!

As for being eaten by a lion, not only did I not see one, but the reality is that the larger wildlife are all in reserves behind fences. I did once see wildebeest, but they were behind fences and ran away scared when I passed by. There were baboons, which can be dangerous, but the ones I saw were also more scared of people than we were of them. I do think it is possible to find areas where wildlife is a concern, but even then I’ve researched what to do when encountering various wildlife. I also research common spiders, snakes and other creatures that could be of concern.

During planning, I was told by local cyclists to avoid the Transkei. However, after much discussion I deduced that there was a reasonably safe route through Matatiele. So I decided to go for it. Just before going through, a couple locals told me to avoid staying over at Mount Fletcher, which would have made for a very long ride to skip over it. Fortunately someone offered me a lift to shorten the ride. When I made it to Mount Fletcher, it didn’t look too bad on the surface. I later heard there have been shootings there, so it does make me realise that it can be hard to get a true sense of a place. Outside of Mount Fletcher, which took less than 5 minutes to cross, the rest of the Transkei was absolutely stunning! Totally unlike the townships near major cities, houses were often made from concrete stones and were on decently sized plots of land that allowed space to grow crops. There were schools, shops, and trucks regularly delivered supplies.

People in the Western Cape were confused as to why I’d want to visit the Eastern Cape. The WC has all the beauty and is safe. I agree that the WC has a lot of beauty, but the EC and KZN have a different kind of beauty that’s hard to explain. It was fascinating seeing the poor living in such an incredibly vast mountainous area. It was nothing like the major townships near the major cities where people are packed like sardines. And as I’ve already explained, the safety concern was largely moot. I was told to never wild camp in the EC – I did so with caution, and was fine. I was told to take the tar roads and avoid the gravel roads – I took both, and honestly the gravel was much safer due to the lack of cars. I was also told that KZN was dangerous due to the conflict between the Xhosa and Zulu people. I later learned that this is only an issue further north, and that with an adequate level of research, you can comfortably avoid the problem areas.

I have one major advantage over my parents’ generation: I grew up around black South Africans. Studying alongside them gave me more perspective on who they were, and what creates the distance that’s so widespread between races. It taught me how to be sensitive where necessary, and how to lower my fears when unwarranted. Most of all though, I have come to accept them as people who are not so different from us. They just have a different history, and many still hold much remorse towards us whites.

Of all the safety concerns, the one I’d say needs to be taken more seriously is being hit by a motorised vehicle, and this is a problem in virtually every country. Outside the villages and cities, cars have long distances to travel without traffic lights and other means of slowing them down, so they travel obscenely fast and often pass with little gap. They would also frequently hoot right as they pass, which would do more to startle me than actually alert me with enough time to move over. Fortunately there were many gravel alternatives, with fewer cars that were forced to travel slower. They were usually more scenic too, and it didn’t bother me that they were often longer and steeper.

I left perhaps the most controversial aspect to last, but it’s also the one I believe had the largest impact. I believe in God, and I believe that His protection is beyond imagination. I prayed every day for His protection from all bad things: crime, illness, and attack from wildlife (as well as other things such as strength to complete the journey). Every time I left my bike unattended I’d make a quick prayer. Every time I faced a tough challenge I asked for His help. I also asked others to pray for my safety and well-being. In the end, I faced just one incident: a minor issue with my rear tyre. I thank God for His protection!

I went on this trip as preparation for something much bigger: touring East Africa. Besides a few areas I currently* consider not worth the risk (e.g. Tigray in Ethiopia is in civil war, bandits in Northern Mozambique), much of East Africa I have heard is safer than South Africa in general (e.g. Egypt requires a police escort). This trip gave me the knowledge and techniques on how to safely tour seemingly risky areas. It gave me connections with people who have toured Africa. It increased my desire and confidence. I have much to plan, but am so eager to get out there again! Tentative departure: September 2023!

* I emphasise the word “currently”, because as with the trip I completed, my perception of a place changed as I gained experience, and got closer and talked with people nearby.