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| Our Route |
We started
at surf town Jeffery’s Bay, complete with Billabong factory outlet and Ripcurl
store. We had beach-y good fun there, built a sandcastle (which we destroyed
with relish), collected seashells, and frolicked about in the warm waves of the
Indian Ocean. We stayed at the hostel Island Vibe Backpackers, which came with
access to the beach and a middle-aged man with dreadlocks who made jewelry.
Fun Fact: there’s always a crazy-haired middle-aged man making jewelry who is kinda creepy but is essentially harmless. No hostel is complete without one. More on that later.
Despite
Gemma having to go tell the employees to turn down their pumping music in the hostel
bar next door at 2AM (I was sound asleep. Asian sleeping skills), it was a
fairly good night with plenty of fresh air and a starlit walk on the beach. In
the morning, we woke up to discover that Wout had left the lights on in one of
the cars, and the battery had completely been shot. We pushed the car up a hill
then let it roll down in an attempt to try to jumpstart it. Thank goodness it
was the tiniest car ever (and therefore probably weighed less than we did)
because we tried this THREE TIMES to no avail. Then, we sheepishly asked one of
the hostel workers if he had a cable. There was none to be borrowed, but he had
an ingenious method:
Fun Fact: Did you know that if you don’t have jumper cables, you can detach the other car’s battery, hold it against the battery of the dead car, and that will have the same effect? You might be concerned for the guy nonchalantly holding the battery, but it will work.
Success! We
were off again, this time on to Mossel Bay, with a few stops en route. First, a
stop at the world’s tallest bridge, Bloukrans, and subsequently world’s tallest
bungee jump. Before everyone gets too excited/concerned, I didn’t jump. I was
85% sure that if I had I would’ve vomited the entire way down, then up, then
down again… At least in skydiving you only go one way; I’d totally do that.
Nonetheless, four brave members of the group literally took the plunge to no
incident. We were all very proud, and those of us safely on land cheered
raucously. Next stop was the Knysna (pronounced “nice”-nah) heads, which are
these cliffs which mark the narrow entrance to a huge lagoon which the city is
built next to/on top of. It was a little bit stormy, but that added to the
tremendous beauty of the water which crashed against the rocks in the loudest,
most beautiful fashion. We finally made it to Mossel Bay after dark.
Our hostel
at Mossel Bay, Santos Express, in which we stayed two nights in, was a
renovated retired train which was, of course, super-duper cool. The dorm
section was closed for repairs, so we paired off in sleeping compartments. We
were uneven in girls vs boys, so I ended up with Dutchman Wout, but apart from
a small incident in which I woke up in the morning to the image of bare ass, it
wasn’t really a problem. We met some lovely (slightly drunk) Swiss
(German-speaking) who invited us for a glass of wine. A couple of them were on
their last leg of a world-wide trip during their gap year before master’s
studies in engineering. One of them spoke a little bit of Chinese and had
visited China, specifically Shanghai, a couple of times; we had a good chat
about Chinese cultures in relation to world view. After finding out about my
intention to travel to Germany, a couple insisted that I make a day-trip to
Zurich. I’m highly considering it.
Fun Fact: Bern, Switzerland’s capital, is generally considered to be more chilled-out and a better place to hang out whereas Zurich has a high-speed business-oriented vibe, but Zurich people often make fun of the slow pace of the Bern-ites speech.
Based in
Mossel Bay, we took a day trip to Oudtshoorn further inland, and let me tell
you, the drive was breathtaking. It was through flower meadows and stark
mountain peaks which the Dutch and French claim looked nothing like the Alps
while the German claims looked exactly like them. Jury is still out. It was
little nerve-racking hearing our tiny engine struggle up the steeper slopes, but
we made it to the Cango Caves where we shared a tour with some loud, outspoken,
overweight tourists from some unknown foreign land who stole all the oxygen
with their labored breathing, making the somewhat cramped quarters of the cave
even stuffier. What was really cool was the tour guide’s ability to control the
lights in order to strategically show us bits of stalactite formations, but I
had to hold Gemma’s hand a couple times when he switched off the lights
entirely to show how dark it was inside.
We then went to an ostrich farm, where we got to feed the birds and even
ride them! I was one of the few who volunteered
for the latter activity and let me tell you, it was SO MUCH FUN. DO IT. Wout
was definitely one of the happiest men on the planet the entire time. Hilarious.
Fun Facts: Ostriches’ brains weigh less than their eyes, which have three eyelids: one on top, one on bottom, and one whitish membrane which they have evolved to protect themselves from desert sands. They can run up to 60 km/hr for up to 3 km. They have two toes per foot, the front one containing a huge talon that they use to crack open their egg from within as chicks and also has the ability to split open a person’s chest when fully grown. Ostrich pairs mate for life. When the female dies, the male will not seek another mate, but if the male dies, the female will. Males are the ones with black and white feathers, whereas females are usually grey all over. Ostrich leather is one of the strongest in the world and makes up 70% of the profits from ostrich farming. If we pull off next to an ostrich farm’s flock on the side of the road and Wout tries to feed them flowers, they will bite Wout’s arm to the amusement of all.
We left
Mossel Bay and headed to Hermanus (her-MON-us) for a whale watching trip. We
got to see some Southern Right whales breaching, log-tailing, “playing”
(mating), etc, and it was quite majestic apart from having to fight
sea-sickness as the boat made tight turns to follow the whales. I was really
proud of myself for not chundering my guts out, but poor Simon wasn’t so lucky.
That night, we had a braai at our lovely homey hostel, Zoete Inval Traveler’s
Lodge, and we met a very nice contractor who showed me the proper way to braai
which involves an ingenious but simple flip-able grilling rack, heating up soft
charcoal to just the right temp, and knowing when to flip the rack to get even
coverage. He was quite impressed by my grilling skills, and I feel like I
really earned his respect when I nonchalantly poured a little of my Black Label
beer over the meat. Thanks, Dad, for the grilling lessons. We hopped in the
Jacuzzi for a little while then, against our better judgment, accompanied the
guy, who had gotten slightly creepier with a couple more beers, and a couple of
his workers to a local bar which turned out to be a pathetic excuse at an
semi-attempt at a gay bar, complete with one gorgeous drag queen (but only
one), drunk, overweight, creepy, middle-aged men, and two overweight men
judging a “Hermanus Idols” karaoke contest that was mostly odd characters
singing hardcore 80s Afrikaans songs and one guy in pink Uggs crying while singing
Whitney Houston. It was an odd night. We slept in the most comfortable beds
we’ve had in South Africa back at the hostel, though, and in the morning, we
had the most delicious (included in the price!) breakfast with homemade organic
apricot and fig jam and lovely French-press coffee. The proprietors were really
sweet and focused on sustainable gardening and recycling. The free towels,
out-of-the-blue complimentary car wash, and local cat provided just the homey
air that we needed after a couple days on the road.
The next
day, we headed to Stony Point for a nature reserve for African penguins. We got
hopelessly lost a couple of times, but with some local help finally made it
there, where we delighted in the antics of the little waddling birds and tried
to ignore the smell. Penguins are ridiculously adorable, and anyone who
disagrees is dumb. Period.
Fun Fact: African Penguins are also called "Jackass" Penguins because of the braying noise they make.
We drove our
way north along the gorgeous Atlantic coast to Cape Town and continued to get
lost, unfortunately preventing us from going to see the Cape of Good Hope. We
got to our hostel, Penthouse on Long [St], in the middle of the city a little
road-weary. Kudos to our drivers, Wout and Simon, for getting us there. The
atmosphere at the hostel was very chill, and there were mostly young people
there for various reasons, apart from the middle-aged “large, fairy man” (in
the front desk guy’s words) who made jewelry (told you, always one of them) which
I had the fortune of sharing a bunk with. Goodie. There was little bit of
tension as a couple of the workers weren’t very friendly and there were
intra-worker conflicts, but the space is definitely cool, esp. the rooftop
bar/hangout area. That night, we scoped out Long Street, the hub of the city
night life, which seems to start only after midnight.
The next
day, we took a whole day wine tour to Stellenbosch with a driver who started us
off with “Let’s go get you drunk! The hangover starts now.” I proceeded to get
ridiculously tipsy and forget my bag at the restaurant at one of the wineries,
Beyers Kloof. When we called back, they claimed they never found it even though
we had left at closing time and no one else was there, so that meant that one
of the employees found and took it. They refused to do anything about it, and
that made me super despondent and pissed, so PLEASE DON’T EVER GO THERE. I AM
ANGRY WITH THEM, AND THEY ARE JERKS. BAHUMBUG. I got to experience what a South
African police station is like since I had to go there to file a report in
order to possibly paid back with insurance. I am now camera and wallet-less, so
no pictures from the trip, guys, sorry :(. I’m stealing a couple photos from
my friends, and that will have to do.
After a day of sulking around the hostel waiting for possible news about
my bag that never came, I recovered enough to go out with the gang plus one
cute Australian guy who we met earlier at the hostel. I felt significantly
better after some bar hopping and drink sipping. I stayed out til 4:30 AM
because it was our last night, and then woke up at 7:30 to pack and get ready
for our Robben Island tour. Despite having to fight to stay awake, it was
really great to see the place where Mandela spent 18 years of his life in
prison, sleeping on a concrete floor, only to emerge to become the president of
SA. I was still worried about my missing wallet and low on cash, so while the
others scoped out the market, I went back to the hostel, paranoid, to check out
my bank account and try to troubleshoot. I still have no way to access money,
but my friends are great and generous and lending me money until my replacement
card gets here. I’m not letting it get me down. Although Cape Town now has some
negative memories for me, I still had some great times, experienced a few new
things, and benefitted from getting outside my comfort zone. I’m excited for Cape
Town attempt #2 with my sister after exams :D.
A couple of
general notes:
-The entire
drive was gorgeous. Lush forests, pristine ocean, and soaring mountains that
were impressive even in the distance. We saw wild elephants, ostrich,
“deer-like thingies” (Bec), etc. along with all sorts of vibrant, colorful
flowers and plants. Although the cars were a bit of a hassle at times, it was
great to get to see all of it.
-The
further West you go, the more Afrikaans is spoken/seen. By the time we got to
Cape Town, most of the signs were in Afrikaans, and it got really handy have
two Nederlanders with us.
-It’s
really difficult to plan around ten people. It was great having all of us
there, but we had difficulty getting a consensus, and we didn’t meet as many
new people as I had hoped to. As the cute Australian put it, by himself, he got
to meet 12 cool new people at once whereas we, collectively, only met one.
Traveling in a big group is chill, but I think I’ll prefer on my own or only
with a few other people. I guess that’ll be tested when I attempt to traverse
Europe all by my lonesome self. Eep.
