Friday, October 11, 2024

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SWAZI RALLY 2024

Drag races are serious business / Photo Credit: Alfred Dunn

It’s 9:00 p.m. on Saturday, the climax of the 31st annual Swazi Rally. The main hall at Riders’ Ranch is a heaving, sweating, howling, grooving, boozing mass of humanity. On stage Dusty and Stones the local Country and Western duo are belting out Sweet Home Alabama. Fragrant clouds of zol smoke hang in the humid air despite the benevolent presence of a large contingent of heavily armed Eswatini Police. It’s a party the likes of which you’ve never experienced unless you’ve been on a Swazi Rally. The decibel level is almost painfully great and suddenly hits a new crescendo as shrieks and roars of approval greet the arrival of Carlos Paiva on stage.

Carlos is there to preside over the lucky draw for a brand new, sparkling yellow Suzuki DL1050 V-Strom. Carlos has a unique method for managing the lucky draw. On stage, there’s a barrel containing all the tickets. Carlos plunges his hand deep into the barrel and draws a single ticket. He calls out the number and shouts “Walala Wasala” which, in siSwati, means “You snooze, you lose” The owner of the ticket must be in the hall to claim the prize and there’s a rapid countdown starting at 10 for the lucky ticket holder to get to the stage to claim the prize. This is serious stuff. When Carlos says “You snooze, you lose” he means it. In previous years winners missed out on a brand new bike because they weren’t in time to claim the prize. But not this year. There was a shriek of delight from the back of the hall. Dirce Matsinhe from Mozambique shoved her way through the crowd and made it to the stage just as Carlos counted down to zero. Yes, she did have the winning ticket and was soon sitting astride her magnificent new ride draped in the Mozambican flag and squealing in delight. It was a fitting finale to yet another weekend of biking and revelry in the Kingdom of Eswatini. There would be many sore heads on Sunday morning.

Sonia and Carlos Paiva with Dirce Matsinhe the winner of the Suzuki lucky draw / Photo Credit: Alfred Dunn

On Friday morning I left Nelspruit on my beloved BMW R1250GS Adventure. My original plan was to ride to Barberton and then into Swaziland through the Josefsdal border port. But, in the immortal words of Rabbie Burns:

The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men
Gang aft agley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promis’d joy!

It was pissing down and I knew that the 25km gnarly dirt road from the border to Pigg’s Peak would, almost certainly, be my literal downfall. Discretion is the better part of valour so I rode due east on the N4 and near Malelane turned south towards the Jeppe’s Reef border post. I was through both sides of the border in 10 minutes and loose on the land in the Kingdom of Eswatini. The low, menacing sky was the colour of a freshly shucked oyster and curtains of rain sifted down obscuring the landscape and the road ahead. But it was only weather and I’m not a fair-weather biker. I rode at 100km/h and sang in my helmet “I bless the rains down in Africa.” I stopped for a rest at Madlangempisi, drank a bottle of Sibebe Lager as a preventative measure against dehydration, and continued southeast to Manzini and the Riders’ Ranch at Sidvokodvo, the site of the Swazi Rally. I can’t say that ride was my best day ever on the road but it was definitely a good day in the saddle, incident-free and just a bit edgy. At the entrance to the rally site, I met my friend Barbara who ushered me through the gates and into the belly of the beast.

The best rally site in Southern Africa

I’m not sure how many Swazi Rallies I’ve attended but it’s at least 20, the first in 1996 when I rode my week-old Honda Blackbird to the rally. I was immediately hooked by the weather, the people, the vibe, and the allure of a cross-border jol, and I have kept riding back year after year. Over the years the Swazi Rally has evolved in many ways. In 1996 it was a smallish rally with maybe 300 entrants. Everybody camped. These days it’s a raging mamba of a rally attended by riders from Namibia, Botswana, Zimbabwe, Mozambique, Lesotho, South Africa and Eswatini. Thousands of bikers stream in from Thursday. Most still camp but the success of the Swazi Rally has spawned an entire hospitality industry within a 10km radius of the site. Restaurants, garages, supermarkets and all sorts of accommodations cater for the rally weekend.

The rally site has been transformed beyond recognition. Back in the day, the site was a grassy field and terraced grassy banks for camping. The facilities comprised an ablution block and a small hall. Klaar. There were two bars in the hall which were home to Carlos’s fledgling collection of classic motorcycles. One of the bars featured a Kawasaki Z1000 Eddie Lawson Replica and the other a Suzuki RE5 Rotary. Today Riders’ Ranch is Carlos’s private motorcycle museum. The main hall and the peripheral bars, kitchens, restaurants, shops and ablution facilities are one giant, stone-built, sprawling building that looks like a medieval castle. It’s an amazing place, unlike anything you’ll find at any other rally. Carlos’s collection of 25 classic bikes is mounted on brackets on the walls. The collection includes Harley Flathead, Triumph Trident, BSA Rocket III, Suzuki RE5 Rotary, Suzuki GT750, Kawasaki Eddie Lawson Replica, BMW K1, Kawasaki 750 H2, Honda CBX 1000, Yamaha XS750, Triumph Bonneville, Kawasaki Z1300, BSA Gold Star and a dozen more.

The hall at Riders’ Ranch is packed with party animals

If you haven’t guessed it by now, I can confirm that Carlos is a petrolhead of note. In 2014 he realised a vision and built the Swazi Rally Motorsport Arena. There’s a 400-metre dragstrip and a spinning and drifting field that covers a hectare. These immaculate facilities are the venue for octane-fueled bad craziness. The drag races on Saturday afternoon are hotly contested by quick lads, many of whom trailer their drag bikes to the rally. On Saturday morning wild men in their hot BMW 3 Series cars hurl their vehicles around the arena. It’s a sensory overload. Bellowing engines, billowing clouds of smoke, the taste and stench of super-heated metal, overheated oil and burning rubber assault the senses. Eventually, the rear tyres succumb to the horrible abuse and explode to loud cheers from the crowds. The BMW limps from the arena and within 20 minutes has been fitted with new tyres and is ready to roll again.

Spinning and drifting maniacs. These guys have got skill / Photo Credit: Alfred Dunn

If you tire of the noise and the organised chaos of the arena walk down to the Swazi Cultural Village which features Swazi cuisine, textiles, dancing, crafts and even a fashion show. It’s a welcome oasis of quiet in a sea of happy insanity. Stroll through the campsite and ogle the bikes. Settle onto a bar stool in the cool gloom of the main hall and sip a golden throat throat-charming Sibebe Lager. Meet a new friend wearing a patch you’ve never seen before and swap stories about life on the road. And if you’re me and you’re friends with Carlos you walk through the mango groves to your bedroom in Carlos’s home for a soothing afternoon siesta in preparation for the evening festivities.

You’ll see patches on The Swazi that you won’t see anywhere else / Photo Credit: Alfred Dunn

Swazi nights are wild. The spectacle everyone anticipates is the arrival of the ecdysiasts. I’ll never understand how women and men summon the courage to shed their clothes for a baying crowd of lecherous voyeurs. Yet there they were on stage in all their glory. Not really my cup of tea. Time for a double Captain Morgan and Coke. In the cool of the evening, I walked to the Mad Dogs campsite. My mate Graham Fitzgerald, the Mad Dogs National El Presidento, is the only oke who has been to every single Swazi Rally since inception. He’s a legend. Under a waning gibbous moon, the campfire sent sparks into the night sky. The muted sounds of revelry from the hall were a happy accompaniment to our conversation about rides and bikes, and wimmen and road stories. The Captain Moron talked and all was right in the world. It was a fitting end to yet another excellent day at the Swazi Rally.

Swazi Rally strip shows are legendary / Photo Credit: Alfred Dunn

Over breakfast on Sunday morning I chatted with Carlos and Sonia who have hosted the Swazi Rally since 1992. The venue for the first Swazi Rally was Somhlolo National Stadium near Lobamba. There was no rally in 1993 but every year since then CarSon, as they are affectionately known by their portmanteau name, have hosted the Swazi on their estate near Sidvokodvo, south of Manzini. Even during the COVID years, the rally continued, specifically to maintain the brand and the tradition even though the only entrants were locals. In the days leading up to the 2024 rally there was some concern that the forecast cold, rainy weekend weather would have a negative impact on attendance. But despite the weather the 31st Swazi Rally was a blowout, the biggest and best ever yet.

The Swazi Rally is a phenomenon. The rally generates so much revenue for the Eswatini economy that it has been adopted by the government as an event of national importance and receives assistance from the Ministries of Tourism, Public Works, Home Affairs and Foreign Affairs. At the Ngwenya/Oshoek border post the Eswatini officials wear Swazi Rally shirts and caps and there are dedicated queues to speed the bikers through the border. The police and traffic officers are out in force for the entire weekend. In the weeks before the rally potholes, road markings and speed humps are repaired and maintained.

The Swazi Rally is BIG NEWS in Eswatini

The rally is front page news in all the Eswatini Newspapers:

  • What’s Happening Eswatini – Swazi Rally 2024 – Get Ready for 3 Days of Epic Adventure
  • Times of Eswatini – Cold Fails to Stop Swazi Rally Fun
  • Eswatini News – Bikers Have Landed

The Swazi Rally is BIG NEWS!

Ride to Eswatini in 2025. If it’s your first Swazi Rally I guarantee it won’t be your last. If it’s your umpteenth Swazi Rally I’m sure I’ll see you there!

Chillin’ like a villain
Howard Stafford
Howard Stafford
I started riding in 1970 when I was a schoolboy. The first motorcycle I owned was a brand new 1972 Yamaha RD350 which cost R989.00 from Jack’s Motors in Main Street. Since then I have owned and loved dozens of bikes. My passion is long-distance riding either with a tight group of good mates or ace pilot. In 1996 I sent an unsolicited article to Bike SA magazine. Simon Fourie published the story and that was the start of a 25-year relationship with Bark Essay. In those 25 years, I rode more than a million kilometres on more than 500 different motorcycles. Biking has enriched my life. I have made many lifelong friends and ridden amazing roads to remote destinations. That’s what life’s about and that’s why we ride.
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