The incredible talking trees

At our first camp in Kruger, we took the "Sunset Tour." This is similar to the one we took in St. Lucia (see "Leaf-stitching Ants"), but the Sunset Tour began in daylight and ended after dark. It was an incredible way to see both diurnal and nocturnal animals in a short time, animals that we would have surely missed on our own.

Our guide was named Celia. She was pretty, knowledgeable, and delightful. Best of all, Ronda, Brian, and I were the only ones on the tour, so we had four hours to ask questions and soak it all in.

Speaking of soaking, we saw tons of hippos (literally) in the river. After dark, we found them by shining our spotlights until we saw eyes. Mainly we saw birds -- big ones (Marabou storks), little ones (blacksmith plover and cape turtle doves), eagles, grey go-away bird (yes, that's its official name), king fishers, rollers, and others.

There is a species of antelope (maybe the water bucks) that Celia said do a peculiar thing if they are killed by a predator. In a herd, a lion or leopard or wild dog will single out an antelope to kill. Apparently, as it dies, it has the ability to pour a foul-tasting substance into its flesh, so that that particular lion (for instance) will leave that herd alone, thinking that they are all rotten. I don't know what this is called or how it developed -- an animal playing its last card for the perpetuation of the herd. All animals have to eat, but I like the idea of a confused, disgusted big cat.

Celia went on to say that trees do a similar thing. If an elephant chews the bark off a tree, that particular tree puts out a signal to other trees in the area, and they have the ability to make their bark taste bad. I don't know if it's all trees that do this or just a few of the evolved, but what a trick!

She pointed out an old tree that an explorer used as a landmark many years ago. There were curvy patterns in the dusty road, with big circles in between the waves. It's a beautiful pattern that I'd seen on fabric. This turned out to be an elephant walking and dragging its trunk. We saw a lone bull elephant and crocodiles, and had a great time, but I'll always remember what an injured tree or dying antelope can do to protect its kind.

More about jobs and not having jobs

Unemployment is a complex issue in any country. In South Africa, the spectrum was broad: at any given time, there might be five employees lounging behind the "order here" counter in a restaurant, but the unemployment rate in other sectors is high. I'm glad those five people have jobs and don't wish unemployment for them, but I don't understand it.

Ronda explained that Apartheid kept many people from getting education, so the only jobs available for them are in blue collar industries -- mall security, service at restaurants, and construction. The short time we were there wasn't enough to study this inequality. Plus, we were tourists. We didn't want to solve any problems, though we were certainly aware of them.

I can't very easily talk about poverty and unemployment in South Africa without talking about races. I was hoping to avoid this subject, but I had a brief interaction with a black man late in our stay that made me acutely aware of how little I know. It is my lack of knowledge that is the subject of this entry, much more than any political situation.

The South African malls are beautiful. They have everything: restaurants, electronics, camera stores, grocery stores, clothing (their Woolworth's is the equivalent of our Nordstrom), and home furnishings. They are big and gorgeous. Remember, though, that they close at 6:00 (before dark), for safety reasons. That makes it hard for the average person to shop during the week. Everyone goes on Saturdays, and the malls are crowded. A lot of white people go to malls. Probably because of transportation and money, a lot of black people shop at roadside stands. Even with their intimidating size and early closing times, we enjoyed the malls.

One day, as we were leaving a store, headed for our car, I noticed a black security guard a few meters away watching me. Brian and Ronda were talking to each other, but I saw the guard and wondered why he was scrutinizing me. I hoped he didn't think I was shoplifting. Then it went through my mind that because we are white, we stand out. Not so much in a mall, but still we are white. Without making any more guesses, I waved and smiled at him. The previously serious guard waved and gave me the biggest grin I'd ever received from a stranger. I was so glad I hadn't regarded him as just another employee and ignored him.

We got to the parking lot, and I was still thinking about this man. I told Brian and Ronda about him as we reached the car. I was quite puzzled about why the man seemed to suspect me but turned out to be friendly. Was he waiting to see if I would acknowledge him? My (sort of) exact words were, "It almost seems like whites have treated them badly."

Ronda laughed. She said, "Let's see" and drummed her fingers on her chin. "Could whites ever have mistreated blacks in South Africa?"

It takes a trip to a country for me to learn. I knew about Apartheid and Nelson Mandela's imprisonment and rise to leadership. The little bit I know about South Africa was from the news and conversations with friends. I didn't know about racism until a black security guard watched me, seemingly wondering if I was another white person who would dismiss or mistreat him.

Remember belt loops and pockets?

There is an earlier blog entry about belt loops and pockets ("The many uses of a belt loop"). I recently saw another product that I would have been handy in South Africa. It was in my neighborhood Super Supplements -- "eco-lips" on D-rings. It is apparently a tube of lip protector, and I would have loved to have had it with me. I don't know that brand, but it was the same idea as the "High School Musical" hand cleanser that I kept clipped to my belt loop on the trip. I like clean hands and soft lips.

Oh, another important point about the tubes of hand cleanser -- the lid screws off. Add refillable to handy and cute; what more could a person want?

Going my way?

When people in South Africa get a good-paying job, one of the first things they buy is a car. Judging by the numbers of people walking, hitch-hiking, and piling into taxis, there are a lot of people in that country without good jobs.

There are several reasons for this. The main one is probably that there is simply a lot of poverty in South Africa. This in turn has many reasons. My purpose of these entries is not political, but I can't spend 3 weeks in a country without becoming somewhat aware of what makes it what it is. Some of the driving forces are quite visible -- the campaigning for the upcoming election, for instance. Ronda, having lived there for over a year (and earlier in Kenya and Tanzania), knows a lot about African countries. I know almost nothing, but I can do the history. Any country that has suffered wars, suppression, and Apartheid (very recently) the way South Africa has is going to have problems for a while. I am, however, attempting to restrict these entries to observations and experiences only and leave the political discussions to residents of the country.

Back to the people. A lot of people walk in South Africa. Children in uniforms walk to and from school, often a few miles. Women carry plastic tubs of things bought or things to sell on their heads, carefully, and they have excellent posture. A lot of people walk barefoot everywhere. I have thought this was a bad idea for many years, but in South Africa that's what they do.

Taxis are another interesting study. Ronda has been hassled by the drivers when she walks past the taxi ranks, and it's considered generally unsafe for an unescorted young woman to walk past them. I'm accustomed to people in the United States calling a cab to get to the airport or another important appointment once in a while. It seems expensive, so I don't do it very often. In South Africa, however, taxis are a part of everyday life -- for appointments, for visiting friends, and for most of their shopping.

I didn't even recognize them as taxis as first. I thought that big families were going on big picnics. The vehicles are the size of vans or mini-vans. People do their shopping and wait for a taxi going their way. Then they have to wait for the taxi to fill up. Then they have to hope that the taxi will get close to their destination. Sometimes arguments ensue.

The whole taxi scene was a source of amazement to me. In cities, car horns are heard constantly. Ronda explained that these announce the presence of not yet full taxis. That is the country's public transportation. Any outing can take most of a day -- riding in a taxi from a village to a station at a taxi rank, walking to another station, waiting for the taxi to fill up, on to the destination (at least the driver's idea of your destination), and then doing the whole thing in reverse.

Walking is another story, also amazing to me. People walk long miles to shop and return home. Men carry bags in their hands. Women carry items on their heads. The shoulders of country roads are narrow. There is often little more than a narrow path very close to fast traffic. It looks treacherous.

We saw quite a few hitchhikers. Ronda had to explain the signals to us. In the U.S., we (well, I've only seen it done) stick out a thumb. In South Africa, people either stick an arm straight up in the air (the way I would respond in class if I really, really knew the answer) or they raise their arm and point vaguely to their destination. It is an arcing, sweeping motion, translated: "I'm here, and I need to get there."

There are danger signs posted in some areas. They say, "Warning. High Crime Area. Do Not Pick Up Hitchers." Or something like that. The words "high crime area" stuck in my head. If a criminal stepped outside of the area, i.e., the other side of a sign, would it be okay to pick him up? Would his character have changed? I've never picked up a hitch-hiker and was glad to know that Ronda didn't want to. Brian had a great deal of sympathy for all the people walking and said that if we ever went back, we would haul a trailer and give a lot of people rides. Would that mean that we might have a whole trailer-full of criminals? As sympathetic as I was, I still wouldn't want to pick up a stranger. In an African country or my own country.

When planning the trip, I read that hitching is acceptable for tourists. I'm glad that we had a rental car and didn't have to walk long distances, hitchhike, or ride in taxis.

And they wonder why I was nervous

A little more about driving in South Africa. We had a great rental car. Well, the first one that Ronda rented in Johannesburg was not so great -- it had some mechanical problems. It also became clear to all three of us that we needed air conditioning in the car. We visited her in the "rainy season," which is summer, and almost every day was dreadfully hot. Thanks to a very nice rental agent, she was able to trade up. We got a bigger and nicer car with "air-con."

All the cars have the steering wheel on the right, and people drive on the left. It was quite confusing at first. Actually, it was still confusing when we left. I've just spent too many years driving on the right in cars that have steering wheels on the left. An accident is a scary thought, and Brian almost learned the lesson the hard way. I was in the back seat and didn't think anything of his left turn until I heard Ronda scream, "Move over! Move over!" I looked up and saw several things happening at once: Ronda's frantic arm movements that accompanied her vocal directions, Brian's quick spinning of the steering wheel, and a white pickup headed toward us. There was no accident at that time and place, but it wasn't because Brian didn't try. The next time he offered to drive, Ronda said, "Not unless you give me a lot of sedation and throw me in the back seat."

He redeemed himself later, when we got caught on bad mountain roads in a heavy rainstorm.

Oh, just give me anything.

We were in a KFC -- remember, I don't eat chicken, or any meat, but sometimes KFC was the closest eatery -- trying to order lunch. Everyone there spoke English, but Brian had trouble not only with the accent of the person taking his order but with the softness of his speech. It's pretty funny when English has to be translated for an English-speaking person, but it does happen.

Brian was tired of saying "pardon?" and cupping his hand behind his ear. He was ready to tell the person to give him five dollars worth of anything. Could a person faint from hunger in a restaurant, simply because he couldn't hear the responses?

I had my own ordering problems that particular day. I wanted mashed potatoes (no gravy) and corn. No one comprehended that. I got the potatoes but no corn. Ronda said that they don't serve corn. Strange because there were kernels of yellow corn in my veggie bites, along with the peas and cheese. Besides the salt and deep frying, it seemed that another nutritional problem with the veggie bites was that they were probably shipped frozen from a far-away place. I tried to ignore the negatives of all of that and was successful in enjoying my lunch. I tried, though, to calculate how many orders of little veggie bites I would need in order to pick out all the corn to get a good serving.

Ronda translated for Brian and the cashier, as well as for me. Ronda smiled and punctuated the finished order with, "Shop!" At least that's what it sounded like. I asked her, and she had to translate for me. She was saying an accented "sharp." A great descriptor for a lunch experience.

Mamba doesn't mean dance; it means run!

We saw only one snake in South Africa. There are probably more, but only one dashed across the road in front of our car. I like snakes more than most people, but they definitely fall into the "don't try to pet it" category, kind of like baboons.

The mambas, however, are in a category all their own, above and beyond cranky primates. They (green or black -- I'm not sure which one I'm talking about here) are among the deadliest snakes in the world. Snakes are generally not aggressive, and they try to camouflage themselves and slither away first -- attacking is a last resort. I fantasize that the one we saw was a black mamba, running away to avoid having to attack the car, exactly what I would want it to do.

About a month after returning home (U.S.), I was looking for something interesting on TV. The Discovery channel caught my attention, and soon the words "Kruger National Park, South Africa" flashed on the bottom of the screen. Now, since having visited my daughter in South Africa and spending 4 days in Kruger, there are few things that will hold my interest more, so I settled in to watch a story about one of the few people who has survived a mamba bite.

Mambas are very aggressive when disturbed or confronted, and this man suffered a bite on the back of one calf. He was a park ranger or something, so he knew what he had to do to survive, but still it was a frightening story. He used his belt for a tourniquet, walked slowly to his car, and then drove very quickly until he found people who took him to a hospital. He was losing his speech and vision by the time he collapsed in the back seat of someone else's car. The neurotoxic venom of the mamba shuts down a victim's nervous system, and cardiotoxins shut down the heart. This man spent two days in an intensive care unit, paralyzed, on life support. He's fine now, thanks to his quick first aid and the good hospital care he received.

Scientists are trying to figure out why mambas have such deadly venom. They only eat small rodents, but a small scratch from one of their fangs can kill a person. Another fact is that they are the only snakes (I think) that can get two-thirds of their body into a vertical position. They can grow to 9 feet long and can rise up to bite a person's face! After watching this presentation, I was especially glad that the snake we saw (especially if it was a small mamba) was fleeing.

Snakes are wonderful and mysterious creatures, and many people spend years searching for them. I'm generally content to look at them in zoos. I certainly would never seek out one that can run faster and bite deeper than I can.

Waterfall waterfalls

While working on the previous post ("Mr. Baboon, please don't throw that!"), which describes the hike to the waterfall, I struggled with whether "falls" would take a singular or plural verb. Does the "s" make it plural, or is that letter just part of the singular noun? We hiked to a "waterfall," which is singular, but "Niagra Falls" is also singular. Which is correct: "falls was," "falls were," or "fall was?"

If I haven't completely confused you, and you can quote an authoritative source, please respond. Our Webster's dictionary uses the word "usually" in this definition, so I don't trust it.

Mr. Baboon, please don't throw that!

Ronda knew of a waterfall and wanted to hike to it. I love water, as long as it's not too deep or too cold or the boat too small (ferries don't travel well in shallow, warm water, but that's my dream). As soon as I learned that we would only be looking at water, I agreed to the day's outing. It was near the Blyde River Canyon, but it may have been at any number of locations, as South Africa is pretty big.

Waterfalls are beautiful and mesmerizing, and we were hot (as we were pretty much every day there). The shady walk felt good. It was an easy hike until we got to the washed-out bridge. We looked for a narrow place in the stream. We found big rocks in the water that weren't too round or too far apart. It was dicey, but we made it across.

The falls were as gorgeous as we expected. We sat on big rocks and ate our energy bars and drank water. We took a few pictures, speculated on how high the waterfall was and if there was another above it, but basically we just relaxed and enjoyed the sight and sound of wildly splashing water.

Soon we heard voices behind us. Five young men approached us. One carried a small cooler, and the others each had a can of beer. We said hi, and I motioned for them to join us. There wasn't much extra space on the rocks, but I was willing to make room for them, as they were complaining about the heat and humidity, and their upper naked bodies were shiny with perspiration. One man said they were having a long bachelor party for his brother. Somebody was from Australia, or maybe he was from Capetown. It was a very short visit, so I don't remember all the details. Anyway, they declined our invitation and headed up the hill.

"Hill" doesn't accurately describe that climb. If it had been only a "hill," the three of us would have climbed it, to see if, indeed, there was another waterfall above the visible one. It was actually a rugged cliff. There were trees to grasp and places that resembled footholds, but I had no desire to scale it. Off the young adventurers went. The man carrying the cooler lost his balance. I wasn't sure if they'd make it safely, but they were buddies, on a mission of some type. He quickly righted himself, and they kept climbing, seemingly without fear.

We watched the water for a while longer, content just to be a part of the land.

The hike back was more difficult. I crossed the river at the same place, trying to use the same rocks, but they looked and felt different. A couple of times, Brian extended a hand to help me, but I refused it. Maybe I needed to do it on my own, to prove something, or maybe the thought of landing in the cold river (shallow and very rocky), with Brian on top of me, made me wary. It seemed that in the time I was carefully pondering my first step, Ronda had easily bounced all the way across. There's no need to compare my abilities to someone 24 years younger, but I was certainly aware of them.

We walked on toward the car, and Ronda stopped and asked, "What's that?" We all listened, but Ronda got it first: the sounds of angry baboons. We speculated that the young men had trespassed into the territory of a baboon troupe at the top of the cliff. The baboons sounded angry indeed. Brian asked what they would do to intruders. Ronda said that they are very mean, even to each other, and they bite intruders and throw feces at them. "Yep," she said. "I think they're the feces-throwing kind."

We left the waterfall, drove around a dam in the canyon, and back past the entrance to the waterfall hike. This took about two hours, and two cars were still parked in the shade -- the cars the bachelor party had arrived in. Near the cars was a large troupe of baboons eating fallen fruit on the road. For their size, they are ferocious, and I never wanted to get out of the car and pet one (remember, that's forbidden in Kruger but just plain dumb everywhere).

Was this the troupe that we had heard earlier? Had the young men surprised them at the top of the cliff? Did I ever feel bad for the men, if that was the case. Brian still wonders if they ever made it out of the woods and if the wedding took place.

The angry elephant or know where reverse is

We spent 4 beautiful days in Kruger National Park. Paul Kruger, born in 1825, was the first president of the Transvaal Republic (an area that once comprised northern South Africa, changed a few times by wars, of course), and things are named for him all across the country. The Park is probably the most well known, and he did a really great thing for South Africa when he set aside those millions of hectares. The specific number escapes me, which reminds me of trying to escape an angry elephant, the thesis of this entry. That story in a moment. Basically, a good part of eastern South Africa is park, as other groups and officials have added onto Kruger. It's a great idea, and I commend the country for protecting the animals and land.

As mentioned in an earlier entry, it is strictly forbidden to get out of your car when driving through the Park. There are campsites and some hides (for bird and animal watching), but the rules say to otherwise stay in your car, and don't dangle your arms or feet out either. We were grateful for our air conditioning, which made following the rules easier.

Brian was driving this particular day. He has driven pretty much every type of vehicle, so this stick-shift-steering-wheel-on-the-right car didn't bother him at all, and we were enjoying the drive. Animals would pop out at the darndest times, and we would stop and watch them. There isn't room enough to list all the animals we saw (pictures to follow). They were all magnificent, but there is something beyond magnificence about elephants. It is glorious to yield right of way to a herd crossing the road, but once Brian got too close.

Have I mentioned the lone bulls? They just kind of wander, eat, drink, and wait for an invitation from a female. That's my guess. They might be searching for a perfect snack or hoping to pick a fight with another bull. We saw a lot of them, and we saw a lot of small herds of females and young.

Back to Brian's error in judgment. It could have happened to anyone. We stopped to watch a herd cross the road. About the time that Brian decided to back up, to give them all of the road they wanted, one female thought we were a threat to the baby (again, that's a guess). She looked strong. And she was very, very big. Brian couldn't find reverse. She took a step toward us, and Brian's tugs at the shifter became more frantic. Mama elephant flapped her huge ears. Brian pressed the clutch in every direction but the right one. Ronda and I shouted helpful suggestions. The very strong, very big elephant raised her trunk and took another step. Brian jerked and stomped some more.

Mama elephant turned away from us and caught up with the rest of the family. Brian found reverse. We'd been warned.

It's cheap!

Mesh fruit/vegetable bags make excellent dish scrubbers.

The many uses of a belt loop

Pockets are handy (I occasionally wonder who invented them and why), as are belt loops. Before we left for South Africa, I wandered through a discount store looking for travel items. Did I ever find some! The biggest score was a toothbrush with floss in the handle. Unfortunately, there was not a second one available for Brian.

Down on a bottom shelf was a box of "High School Musical" pocket-sized hand sanitizers. Not only were they a nifty size, but they had a D-ring connected through a tab on the bottom. Strangely, there was a whole bunch of these available for $1 each. I bought three.

As we traveled through South Africa, I always had one clipped to a belt loop. If the restroom facilities were not to our liking (though many of them were bigger and better than any I've seen in the States), I could still wash my hands. After several hours of driving, we could sit down in a restaurant and wash our hands before eating. In the three weeks that we there, we only used half of one 53 ml container, and we all stayed clean. I highly recommend these, if you can find them, or something similar that you can clip to your belt loop or keep in your pocket.

If you don't want to carry your entire backpack around (who would?), just keep a few coins and a bill in your pocket. This will see you through toll roads and snack shops.

I seldom wear belts but bless the person(s) who invented belt loops and pockets.

Deep pockets

What to take to when visiting another country is a challenge, especially if it's your first trip there. We all have some essentials -- some for health (see former entry on medications and supplements) and some for comfort. These essentials are different for each person. Some may be universally helpful, however, as well as some things to remember when packing them. Like it or not, whether traveling alone or with friends, weird things happen.

Plastic bags (all sizes) are good for containing everything from bottled liquids to snacks to dirty clothes. Keeping these bags organized is essential for sanity (and a reasonable schedule) while traveling. This will help avoid the dreaded, "Have you seen...?" every time you pack and unpack, the anxiety of possibly having left it at the last backpackers, and the time lost searching.

Our last day was spent driving through the Drakensberg Mountains to Jo-burg where my husband and I would say goodbye to Ronda and board a plane for home (U.S.). We got a reasonably early start at the backpackers, and Brian cooked a wonderful vegetarian breakfast in the community kitchen. As we loaded up the car, however, Brian couldn't find his wallet. He had to return to work three days later (he's a city bus driver), and his ID and driver's license were in his wallet. The search was on: each backpack, the already vacated room, the office (lost and found), a computer to see about getting a replacement ID (it would take 30 days), each backpack again, the room again, the kitchen, the grounds. This all yielded only increasing frustration.

Ronda found it. It was small enough to have worked its way to the bottom of a small backpack. Brian and I had both gone through that piece of luggage, twice.

The lost wallet and resultant anxiety reminded me of other mishaps on the trip. They occurred because Brian and I had different methods of packing. When I ran across an item that I thought needed to be put with other like items, I moved it, not knowing that Brian had purposely placed it there. At one point, he reached for the new memory stick for our camera. He knew where he put it (in a bag on the back seat), and it wasn't there. This started the "Have you seen...?" routine, and I was happy to announce that I had placed it with the extra batteries for the camera. The batteries were in the trunk, and we were in Kruger National Park. The Park strictly forbids getting out of your vehicle. We were very respectful of this law (watch for an anecdote involving an angry elephant and another about baboons), so we passed the camera around and deleted pictures so that we could continue to document the trip until we left the Park.

When we got out of the Park and searched the suitcase in the trunk, we found the memory stick. It didn't fit our camera. This meant a trip to an electronics store in a mall where at least five employees tried to solve the problem (customer service there is great!). They were certain that their memory stick would fit our camera. It didn't. That meant hurrying to the camera store at the other end of the mall. That store was closing (closing time for almost all stores is 6:00 pm). That meant that we had to return the next morning and spend R400 (~$40) to buy a thumb drive and get the pictures downloaded so that we could continue taking pictures.

We packed the thumb drive and kept checking it, to make sure someone hadn't reorganized. The next time I go to South Africa (or another country where availability is limited), I will do things differently. I will start the packing and organizing earlier. For this trip, I had walked to a reliable drug store to purchase the memory stick. I had our existing one in my hand, showed it to an employee, and said, "I want a stick just like this one." He was helpful and knowledgeable, and showed me one that was on sale and had more room on it than the regularly-priced one. I love sales. I bought it. If it had not been buried in the packaging, I would have seen that it was not identical to the one in my hand. What this helpful and knowledgeable employee didn't tell me was that it might require an adapter. We have an old digital camera with only one memory stick, and adapters don't fit it.

There are a few other ways to make packing easier and less frustrating. One is to have each person assume a task while traveling: one person is in charge of clothing, another in charge of snacks, camera, and binoculars for the day's trip, etc. Another way is to communicate what's going on; "I'm putting the new memory stick here because the one in the camera is almost full" would have prevented my moving it. A third is to check out everything before it's actually needed -- in the store immediately after purchasing it is a good idea. We might have decided to buy a new camera before leaving the States, but, new camera or old, we would have avoided a lot of frustration in South Africa.

Losing a wallet isn't the only thing that can destroy even the most well-planned and generous schedule. Things go awry on trips that people can't anticipate: the stove doesn't work, the store closes earlier than we expect, or weather makes traveling impossible. The most organized and careful people can get tripped up by any of these.

Brian mentioned later that if he'd had some kind of a container for his wallet and other vital necessities every night, the mornings might have gone more smoothly. A plastic bag might work, although not as easily as the dresser drawer that he uses at home. Ikea sells stiff fabric boxes of various sizes that have a diagonal zipper in the bottom. Unfold it, zip the bottom shut, and -- voila! -- an instant cache. Remembering in which suitcase we packed it and setting it up each evening might be another task. It's a good idea, though not foolproof. The fact that there is probably no such thing as a foolproof idea when traveling (the possible exceptions might be to put gas in the car occasionally and to keep your money concealed) adds to the mystery and excitement of traveling.

See the next entry about the charm of belt loops.

We're not stopping in Ladysmith?

One thing I knew about South Africa was the music of Ladysmith Black Mambazo, though I reluctantly admit that I thought the group was from "Africa."

Ladysmith (a city, like Harrismith) was on our route, and as we passed it, I asked if we weren't stopping. Ronda (driving) said no, and I realized that the moment we are passing the exit for a city or lookout or some other attraction is not the time to tell the driver that I had wanted to go there.

If you are traveling with friends or family members, it's important to communicate expectations, changes, and disappointments. Communicating disappointments is difficult, and I've learned (in the distant past) that demanding an explanation or apology from the driver while flying down the freeway is not a good idea. I truly was disappointed that we missed our only chance to meet Ladysmith's famous musicians, but I hadn't done my part by getting it on the agenda much earlier. The breakfast table would have been a good place for that suggestion. Ronda would have told me that she was pretty sure that the group, if still together, was not booked for a luncheon concert at the Ladysmith KFC where we might be eating.

Communication is almost as important as transportation: there are several ways to reach a destination, but some are more comfortable than others.