Trains, Buses, and Kombis: 5 countries, 3 weeks (Or, an epic trek in which I defied popular expectations and opinions by evading death)
Our route (A rough and poorly rendered approximation) The moon was high over the hills of Swaziland when we left the house, and the babe (Swazi honorific for an older man - literally 'father.' Pronounced 'bah-bay') driving the taxi seemed as tired as we were. I was worried about how big my backpack was, whether it would fit into the kombi, whether we would be charged extra. Mbabane was sleepy-quiet when we arrived but some drunk teenagers stumbled by, sobriety beginning to arrive with the rising sun and cold morning wind. By 6am, we had found a kombi to Joburg and had wedged ourselves and our bags into the back. We were joined by bags of flour and bottles of oil, and a good number of tired looking people. However, the kombi didn't actually leave until 10am, because it wasn't full enough. The trip was uneventful - it was faster than our school bus, and the seats weren't uncomfortable. When we got closer to the city, I climbed up to the front to a