Before long, it begins to pour. It rains cats, dogs and goats. the sky opens up for three good hours, forcing people to take cover. After the rain, visitors troop out of Sun Coast in their numbers. Thoughts of where to stay for the night then come to mind.

With the myriad of sky-scraping hotels, a place to lay my head shouldn't be a problem. What bothers me is their charges for a night rest. I switch on my mental calculator: Transport to Durban gulped 300 rand, and my return ticket is the same amount. So, 400 rand is all I have for accommodation, even much less because I ate and used a taxi earlier.

My first night in Durban should be spent in a nice hotel – one where I'll be free to stretch my feeble legs on a cosy bed. Lifting up my head to select one of the tallest hotels in sight, I stroll towards the building.

"How much is a night here?"

"1899 rand, please."

"Hai!" Not even the softness of her voice will make me part with almost a third of my salary. Just to close eyes and wake up till morning? Puma wena!

"Okay, see you soon."

The artificial smile on my face leads me out. North-Beach hotels aren't for everyone, I guess.

With two hands tucked in my pocket, I stroll down the beachside, enjoying my own company while I look into people's faces. Couples stick to themselves and parents clutch to their kids. The heavy wind isn't chilly since it's summer, but one requires a cardigan, nonetheless. I put one on.

Before long, I'm back to South-Beach again, close to where the metered-taxi dropped me in the morning. Dusk begins to spread through, yet it's only a quarter to five. I must find a place to sleep before it's late. Durban is not crime-free, news reports say.

If a night in a tall hotel costs almost 2000 rand, then the short guesthouses should be cheaper. These Zulu people must have priced the rooms according to the buildings' heights, methinks. Just as assumed, the further I plod down South-Beach, the cheaper the holiday accommodation.

"This is festive period. We've been fully booked since November 1," the receptionists in many of the hotels say in well-rehearsed statements.

"Ha!"

The frequency of being turned back makes me quicken my pace. Criminals in Durban speak Zulu language and they can be mean to anyone, even first-time visitors, I'm told. A chubby lad like me will upset them the moment they find out I'm kwerekwere.

Luckily, after branching into one building downtown, close to an area named Apples, I step into a place – "The Shelter Hotels."

"Fifty rand a night," the manager announces. I hand over the note without blinking, considering myself lucky to find a place so cheap. The room doesn't have to be fancy; just a place to lay my head till morning will do.

Relieved after booking, without first checking my room, I rush to the adjacent street to take dinner, after which the flying helicopters leaving the nearby harbour catch my attention. Yet again, I'm drawn to the sea to see what night time feels like. Lerato might ask us to go out at night.

The beachside transforms at night. New visitors – tourists and locals – troop in to catch fun. Music bands play in restaurants nearby. Ships of all kinds line up in the middle of the oceans, glinting fascinating red lights. But I'm rather drawn to the pier, where I find people making love on the chair! I maintain a safe distance, enjoying the night-time sea view.

Nightlife in South-Beach is vibrant. Most places are abuzz with young and old people catching fun around the sea. When at long last sleep announces its arrival, I return to my base, happy that I've seen the day and night time activities in Durban. Lerato and I will come here, no doubt – interesting places to visit; affordable accommodation to stay.