The sky is losing color now, sliding from psychedelic splashes of pink and purple into a cool dark blue-black. Around us are a knobby jumble of grassy hills cloaked in thick white mist, dotted with rondavals that we can just make out in the dim evening light.

There is a terrific peal of thunder as lightning arcs across the sky, making everyone jump. As the first raindrops begin to pelt down the wind suddenly whips up into a frenzy, swirling clouds of dust across the earthen parking lot. People shriek with surprise and flee to the cover of the shops along the edges of the lot, and for some reason it all feels uncomfortably like the end of the world for just a moment.

One of our favorite aspects of traveling is the "travel day" - those times where the entire day is more or less spent getting from one place to another. We've had dozens upon dozens of them over the course of our adventures together, and have generally loved every single one. But none of them hold a candle to this one.

There's an enjoyable other-worldliness about the place. It would start right when we'd wake up in the middle of a completely circular room, with the pattering of the falling rain outside punctuated by the bleated complaints of the soaked livestock.

We have a confession to make: we're in love with South Africa's minibus taxis. They are probably our very favorite form of public transportation anywhere, ever. The next time we go there, it might be just to ride around in them some more.