Week 2

Week 2

It poured rain throughout our last night in KNYSNA, and was cool with gloomy grey drizzle on the morning drive to TSITSIKAMMA , short trip of about 100ks. Tsitsikamma is known as the garden of the garden route, because of its 68 km stretch that is covered in large tracts of indigenous primeval rainforest, and Fynbos (low laying coastal shrubs and proteas). Main attraction is the National Park and abundance of nature hikes, one of which runs 60 km from Storms River to the Indian Ocean and takes 5 days to complete.

We stayed in the village that has 3 merchants, 2 eateries, an adventure center, a few spa like B&Bs, and the Protea Hotel where we were booked to stay. The Protea is SA’s national flower after which the hotel chain throughout SA is named. This location wasn’t typical hotel style, but a white walled property with gazebo entrances and clusters of 2 storey wooden chalets and cabins amidst a wonderful garden. Almost like a village within a village. The place was deserted when we first arrived so we thought there’d be no problem booking the canopy ride (zip line through the forest) and horseback riding as well. But the canopy ride was pre-booked (2 bus loads of Korean tourists were about to arrive) and apparently the horse rides are cancelled when raining. So we just did the 2k hike through the hilly rainforest that, much to our surprise, was totally void of any signs of wildlife. Kinda odd for a nature reserve when the only wildlife noises you hear are coming from the human with me!

Next morning, much to our surprise, the sun was shining bright, a perfect day for a 9 am canopy ride We were the only ones at that hour, I guess it was too early for other tourists or they all went the day before. As apprehensive as I was, the experience was pretty anticlimactic although quite enjoyable zipping through the fresh smelling forest from tree to tree like a monkey.

Before heading out on the road, we went to the National Park that encompasses a marine reserve of 80k long coastline, a 1k hike to the suspension bridge over the Storms River (which we did) and magnificent forests that edge the mix of sand and sharp rocky coastline. Upon closer look of the rocks, Roy informed me that the sharp vertical plates of rock were actually flat laying sedimentary rocks that at some point in time, the plates shifted and pushed the rocks upwards onto their edges. They were quite an amazing sight actually, almost prehistoric.

After a 185km drive we arrived in PORT ELIZABETH, situated in Nelson Mandela Bay, the 3rd largest port and 5th largest city in SA, often referred to as the Friendly City, and the most budget friendly. Can’t imagine it being any cheaper than what we’d experienced thus far. Despite not having a city map and having deviated from the point A to B driving instructions wed been given so Roy could see if PE airport had anything of interest (which it didn’t) we arrived at the 5th Avenue Guest House on Marine without getting lost. It was an absolutely lovely courtyard English manor with 22 rooms and pool, owned and operated by a couple who lived next door and 8 full time staff. The wife, Anthea, a was quite a bubbly and very talkative character, so much so that within 5 minutes of our arrival she had told us how she’s Methodist, her husband Jewish and they were going to Utah for the wedding of their 25 year old chef daughter whose marrying a Mormon whom she had met last year after breaking up with her then boyfriend while travelling in the US and went on to work as live-in chef in a family home who introduced her to a church elder who had a grandson looking for a wife. Hmm, Fundamentalists was the first thing that crossed my mind, but apparently not. That was the first of many chats we had with Anthea, thereafter Roy had tried to steer clear of her as to not engage in never ending conversations. Her husband was quite like Roy, a big kid with bikes, has a glider and other toys, but not a man of many words, not surprisingly!

After tearing ourselves away from Anthea, we decided on a quick walk along the water front to take in some Port Elizabeth sights. The wind however, was so strong , around 70km Roy guestimated, that it was impossible to move, so we high tailed it back to the guest house, sneaking in without being seen by Anthea!

The unfortunate part of this pre-booked kind of travel schedule where you arrive in the afternoon and leave the next day, is that you don’t get the time to see anything which was the case in Port Elizabeth. But, that’s OK, we’re here to see and experience ethnic Africa, not yet another British dominate city. Frankly I’m ready to abandon cups and saucers, traditional English breakfasts, which Roy thoroughly indulges in every morning, and chips with everything. Fish and chip, lamb chops and chips, curried lamb and chips, sandwiches and chips, calamari and chips, and he wonders why his belly isn’t getting any smaller! Mind you I shouldn’t point the finger, I have my own indulgences.

We left the clutches of Anthea, and for the first time in our east bound coastal drive, we headed north/north east into a town called ALICEDALE in the Addo Elephant Park area, about 90 minutes from PE. After a 17k trip down a dirt road we arrived at our destination BUSHMAN SANDS, that, much to our surprise is a new hotel, golf course, game reserve in the middle of a small African town. We were pre booked for a 4:30 game drive which gave us a few hours to chill, Roy to eat, and me to lounge around poolside for the first time since we started this trip.

The 2 hour game drive was quite the adventure. Once again, there was just the two of us, in the open topped safari truck driven by our guide Brian. It was a very hilly and bumpy course but within 100 yards of entering the game reserve, there were the elephants, who apparently Brian said, have been quite elusive of late. Must be the lucky people from Canada he said. Chances are he says that to everyone! Further on into the bumpy journey he pointed out various flora, one intriguing one they call Uphobia, whose long green strands contain a poisonous milky substance that in old times hunters used to poison their arrows with. We also saw zebras, giraffes, rhinos, wart hogs, amazing hip high termite hills – and a few drops of rain as well. Then, with 45 minutes left in the 2 hour drive, the sky opened up, thunder, lightning and torrential downpour. Brian had brought along light weight nylon lined canvas ponchos, just in case it rained, but within 10 minutes they were soaked right through that the nylon lining stuck to your skin. Fortunately we had ball caps on to somewhat protect our faces from the pelting rain while driving, but I felt so sad for Brian trying to maneuver the roads in rain covered glasses. We three were quite the sight when we arrived back at the resort, from the gate staff to concierge they were all laughing at us. Needless to say we gave Brian a big tip ($20) for perseverance.

Although the rain wreaked havoc on us tourists, it was much needed by the area as a severe drought had cause extreme water shortages and drying up of dams. So all in all it was a good thing to have happen and an experience we’re not soon to forget.

Next day, 300k drive ahead of us. One thing we noticed since leaving Port Elizabeth is that we are now travelling through areas that are no longer Afrikaans/Dutch named, but all very British. About 50ks into the drive we stopped in a major town called GRAHAMSTOWN to buy some camera batteries. Its history is that originally settled by 4500 Brits whose intentions were to farm the lush foothills, but they preferred urban life instead and the town became the second largest artisan area next to Cape Town. We drove down Georgian and Victorian period streets, neat as a pin but not a pale face in sight, when all of a sudden we were distracted by groups of really tall young white people out for a run. When the crowd cleared we discovered ourselves approaching a massive Rhodes University smack dab in the middle of the town.

Back on the road with batteries in hand, the highway passes though another British settled town called KING WILLIAMS TOWN, (which was pretty run down and no visible integration) then onto the next town of BUTTERWORTH, a name that brought on the comforting image of Mrs Butterworth’s syrup. Wrong image! The 2 lane highway slowly passes through the several non working street lights of the dirtiest, urban shanty town imaginable. Tipped over trash cans with garbage piled high all over the street corners, bars on windows and people glaring at us as we drive through. The intimidation I feel is due to the fact that we really haven’t determined how the blacks feel after apartheid. Do they embrace their white neighbours and happy travelers just passing through, or is there unspoken resentment lurking below the surface?

Happy that we’re outta there and didn’t need to stop for gas, we continue on the now rainy drive through never ending lush rolling hills of farm land dotted with clusters of aboriginal communities with brightly painted concrete small bungalows and thatched roof round houses. Often you’d see a group of buildings all in the same color, which we figured to be when the family had built more within their property, they kept to the same color scheme, like a familial identifier.

Shortly before our turn off to the day’s destination of HAGA HAGA, I had asked Roy how the gas situation was, to which he replied was “fine”. But, no sooner did we turn off onto the dirt road that said we had 24k to go, the gas light came on. No worries Roy said, surely there’ll be gas somewhere down there. Well, no such luck, Haga Haga was a dead end road with a dozen houses and the lodge we were staying at. Even a desperate plea to the proprietors to buy some of their weed eater fuel didn’t work. Roy referred to the car manual and given the road conditions and distance, he figured we could just about make it back to the highway. If not, he’d wear his runners so he could run there. Great, leave me behind on a dirt road!

Not much happens in Haga Haga, it was pouring rain, but we had a nice cabana and deck, there was a great Saturday night buffet and a bar filled with, as usual, vacationing S.Africans glued to the TV watching rugby. We’ve noticed that people pretty much stick to themselves and don’t go out of their way to socialize, but after dinner Roy befriended a 10 year old boy playing pool so he was happy to have a playmate!

In the morning we took off up and down the gravel road and much to my amazement and Roy’s relief we made it to the unadvertised local hangout/run down store with a gas pump across the highway in the middle of a wooded secluded area that went nowhere. Back on the road again, I happened to notice a little airport, the first that we’ve seen on the trip because recreational flying is not an African pastime. Roy makes a U-turn and we drive up to the gates of this modern looking terminal and tower, huge parking lot with not a single car in it. Out back, 5 flight school Cherokees and one instructor walking around aimlessly. Apparently it was built as a public airport but was never used and is now only a flight school, primarily for training SA air force pilots. Odd the place was built in the first place, because there’s nowhere to go once you’re there anyways. By the looks of it people from King Wiliams Town and Butterworth are not air travelers nor tourist destination points!

Driving in the rain and intermittent fog was taking its toll on Roy so about halfway I took over. The highway has pretty much been a 2 laner, 80 – 100K with cattle and people crossing from one side to the other for who knows what reason considering there’s only pasture and rolling hills. As we approached a town called DUTYWA we saw that both sides of the road was jam packed with double parked 12 passenger vans and people everywhere. As we got into the town center, traffic was down to one lane, almost a grinding halt as we see a massive banner toting, fist shaking, chanting crowd of 100s marching down the street towards us. Again no road blocks, this time the car in front disappears into the crowd not smoke, and now I’ve got the car at a dead stop as we are swallowed up with people all around us. Oh my gosh what are we into now! Turns out it was merely a political party rally running in the upcoming election, not white tourist lynching day! We made it through without a dent or scratch, but Roy said he heard one guy who peered in the window call me “creamy”. Was that a racial slur?

We finally make it to UMNAGAZI river after more long dirt roads littered with loitering livestock and the odd monkey swinging by. And wow, what surprise - the accommodation is yet another resort spa, this time in an oasis jungle, with gorgeous thatched roofed cabanas and outbuildings overlooking the river flowing into the ocean. Swimming pool, tennis court, boats, you name it they had it. Too bad it was pouring rain though, and that I was coming down with the chills and waves of pain in the pit of my stomach. So down and out I am for the night leaving Roy to wander around and dine on his own.

Next morning the sun was glorious and we managed a walk around the beautiful property before having to sadly check out. Chills were gone but the stomach was still wrenching so I was glad our next stop was only 20k away in PORT ST JOHN. More dirt roads with livestock, we arrive at the log cabin facility on beautifully manicured grounds along the Zambezi shark infested river that runs into the ocean. Apparently they hang around the mouth of the river and come upstream to give birth. The proprietor told us about a fatality a few weeks back (we heard about that in Cape Town) and that he often sees cows floating down the river! Needless to say we won’t be doing any river boating or water skiing.

After checking in, we went into town on the opposite side of the shark infested river and wound our way up to an old airstrip on the plateau of the 800 meter mountain where I managed to step close to the sheer drop off edge to take a picture of our place across the river below. On the way back we drove along the towns beach front and saw the oddest sight of cattle laying on the raised sandbar between the racing river and the pounding ocean. Who would’ve thought cows like the beach.

Although the pre arranged accommodations and destinations have been great, I must say the organizer chose sedentary locations ideal for lounging and reading, not for a Type A personality type. That, in conjunction with the rain, me being under the weather, and people generally keeping to themselves, Roy is almost going stir crazy. So much so, that I found him counting the rows of straw in the placemat! Have no fear I told him, 2 more sleeps and we’ll be travelling and tenting with 25 people on safari.

Our last day on the road was about 3.5 hours back to the coast via the secondary road from Port St John that several people advised us not to take. Too many small towns and potential problems apparently. Well, to add excitement to Roy’s day he said we should drive it anyways. Well it turned out to be the most enjoyable trip. More endless rolling lush green hills dotted with colorful villages as far as the eye could see. One really ethnic town we went through was FLAGSTAFF, it was clean and bustling with road side merchants, people smiling at us, waving and all. I really would have loved to get out of the car and mingle about with the locals taking pictures and such, but the confidence just wasn’t there being the only “creamy” around!

So we are at our last S.African destination of SHELLEY BEACH, about an hour away from DURBAN. There is still so much to see in SA and we wished we’d had more time for exploring and to have continued the drive up to Johannesburg. With so many destinations in a 10 day drive, it’s all ready just a blur at times which is why this journal-cum-book, will come in handy as the memory fades even more!

Next stop –Tanzania, til next week,
KnR