159 CYCLE TOURING SOUTH AFRICA (3) - A LAST RESORT

Shenanigans on a Bike - By Leana Niemand

 SOUTH AFRICA (3)

717 Kilometres - 15 Days

18 February - 4 March 2022

MAP

PHOTOS

 

8 – 17 February - Bangkok, Thailand – Cape Town, South Africa

Finally, I was Africa bound. It was indeed a last resort as, after nearly two years, Thailand still hadn’t opened its borders. I was cautiously excited to return to my home soil and see what Africa had in store for me. However, travelling wasn’t as easy as before, and I wasn’t sure if I would even take off. 

Eventually, I was airborne and landed in Cape Town, South Africa, after a dreadfully long flight. As can be expected, there was a great deal of eating and drinking before getting to the bike shop to do the necessary.

 

18 February – Melkbosstrand – Yzerfontein – 60 km

The time was late in the day before finally cycling out of my sister’s place. I popped into Caron’s along the way and cycled to the main road together. She returned home but promised to join my sister and me in Yzerfontein by car after work. My sister, Amanda was keen to drive along for a few days, which meant I, at least, would’ve been company during the evenings.

The road along the West Coast is utterly dull, and not a considerable amount was happening. I wasn’t too fond of the traffic flying past at high speed, but most seemed friendly enough, always giving a toot and wave. En route, I popped into Route 27, a small farm stall and restaurant selling homemade treats. Again, the people were immensely friendly. After a chat, I hopped on the bike to cycle the short distance to Yzerfontein. The short day made early arrival and allowed a visit to the supermarket to stock up on everything needed. 

Late afternoon, Caron arrived, and we drove to the shop to buy wood and stuff to braai. I also bought a chair to make camping more comfortable and planned on throwing it into Amanda’s car as it isn’t something I would lug around on the bike. Unfortunately, the weather turned icy, and I realised I didn’t pack while keeping cold weather in mind.

 

19 February – Yzerfontein – Langebaan – 50km

We woke to freezing weather and a reasonable possibility of rain. If I had known the weather would be this dreary, I never would’ve ventured so far south. Still, I crawled out of the tent, made coffee and tried reorganising my panniers as things were thrown in randomly. Around 10 a.m. I cycled out of Yzerfontein in the direction of Langebaan.

A windy 20 kilometres further was the turnoff to the West Coast National Park, where Caron had already paid my entrance fee and was waiting to cycle to Langebaan. The ride was beautiful, and we chatted endlessly, stopping at a little restaurant to have coffee and milk tart, where Caron again picked up the tab. Thanks, my friend; your kindness is much appreciated. The Langebaan lagoon was a Caribbean blue as we headed into town, where Amanda was waiting to give Caron a ride to her car. 

Again, shopping was done at the supermarket, and a fire was made for our nightly braai. 

20 /21 February - Langebaan – Laaiplek – 40 km

Packing up was a leisurely affair as we waited until the tents were dry. The time was thus around 10 a.m. before we got underway. Caron drove home, and Amanda took the scenic route to Laaiplek. I flew along, aided by a strong tailwind, and arrived at camp nearly simultaneously with my sister. The short distance was due to me needing off-road tyres to cope with the anticipated bad roads ahead. Langebaan had a bike shop but it was closed on a Sunday, and so was the one in nearby Vredenburg. 

Things are relatively quiet in these small coastal communities. But, after driving around, we eventually managed to find something to eat. 

We emerged to an uncharacteristic wind-free but misty morning and stayed in our tents until the sun warmed the air. Fortunately, the camp had a laundry, and we made good use of it before driving to Vredenburg in search of off-road tyres. 

It was a pleasant surprise to find a well-stocked bike shop where I bought two tyres. We further invested in a camping table and bowl to do dishes—luxuries I’d never experienced. 

Pat, a friend from my running days living in St Helena Bay, invited us around. A lovely afternoon was spent catching up while eating and drinking. Pat spoiled us rotten and dished up all kinds of delicious snacks. The wind was still howling, and we crawled in early.

 

22 February – Laaiplek – Elands Bay – 71 km

The West Coast can be an unforgiving place. The sun-baked, sandy soil looked forlorn in the ferocious wind plaguing the region. The plastic bags flapping on fence poles and tortoise skeletons added to the desolate vibe. 

An unexpected farm revealed kids waving enthusiastically. Stopping to take a few pics made them even more excited. Finally, the mum, baby on hip, quietly asked, “Mevrou, waar gaan mevrou heen?”

I replied, “Ek gaan Namibia toe.”

With sympathy in her voice, she said, “Oh, gaan mevrou daar werk soek?” (For what other reason would a person cycle to Namibia?)

I nearly burst out laughing but answered feebly, “Nee, ek ry sommer net.”

“Oh, ry sommer net,” she repeated, sounding tired but most likely thought her life was all bad afterall. 

And right there, I fell in love with the West Coast.

My route zig-zagged across the Sishen–Saldanha railway line, an 861-kilometre-long heavy-haul railway line. I intended to follow the service road, which cuts out a long detour. The line connects the Sishen iron ore mines to the port at Saldanha Bay. Trains transport iron ore (100 million tonnes per year!) and don’t carry passenger traffic.

Wagons carry 100 tonnes, and trains pull 375 wagons at a time! These trains (pulled by ten locomotives) and 375 wagons are more than 4,000 metres long, the longest production trains in the world.

Once in Elands Bay, Amanda had already found a spot to camp, and we set off to the nearby caves. Elands Bay Cave had been used at different times for various purposes; evidence found at the cave suggests a series of overlapping times. Research concludes people lived there around 4,400 to 3,000 years ago. Hunting and gathering activities persisted until the 17th century AD.

 

23 February – Elands Bay – Strandfontein - 91 km

We woke to a beautiful wind-free morning and felt reluctant to pack up. Instead, the way took me inland over hills sporting views over vast stretches of nothingness featuring only a lone farmhouse in the valley. This is indeed a sparsely populated area. The road stretched miles ahead, which added to the desolate feel.

Eventually, my path veered back to the ocean and Lambert’s Bay, from where I opted to cycle along the service road along the railway line. In hindsight, this wasn’t such a great idea. The road slowly deteriorated and became rutted, corrugated and sandy. It took all my concentration to keep going. The poor bicycle took a hammering, not to mention my electronics. In the process, I lost the bike lock, the mirror and the phone holder, and the odometer gave up the ghost. These items weren’t designed with rough roads in mind. Neither am I, for that matter!

The path eventually reached the tiny community of Doringbaai, from where a paved road ran six kilometres to pretty Strandfontein. Fortunately, my sister had already found a campsite and beer, an arrangement I could get used to. 

After sunset, the wind subsided, and the sky turned a beautiful deep red colour. The pretty scene masked the icy waters in the bay. The cold water along the West Coast of South Africa is due to the cold Benguela current that flows northwards from Cape Town to Angola. The prevailing southerly winds produce upwellings of water from a very deep part of the ocean (200-300m), moving in line with the rotation of the Earth. Hence the icy but nutrient-rich water. Thus, it is no surprise the primary income of villages along the coast is from fishing.

 

24 February – Strandfontein – Bitterfontein - 100 km

The day dawned wind-free but misty. Wanting to use the favourable conditions, I hurriedly packed and got underway, leaving Amanda to pack the car and clean up the mess at the campsite. 

I was in no mood to take the service road and repeat the bumpy ride the day before and, therefore, opted for the route to the dreaded N7.

I saw Amanda heading to Lutzville to shop at the little supermarket during the day. She later passed me but not before handing me a cold drink and a packet of jelly sweets. All luxuries I’m not accustomed to but very much enjoyed. My path followed the Olifant’s River as it meanders through the valley bringing life to the surrounding area, allowing for the cultivation of wine grapes, export table grapes, sundried raisins, watermelon, beans, potatoes, beetroot and pumpkin.

The rough road caused a flat tyre, but the Gu/sealant did the job, and after inflating the tyre, the Gu held, and I could be on my way without replacing the tube.

Not a great deal further, the paved road gave way to a dirt and hilly road, which eventually spat me out on the highway. Fortunately, it was only a 16-kilometre (but windy) bike ride to the hamlet of Bitterfontein, where Amanda found a gorgeous and intriguing cottage at the Art House. Unfortunately, the only shop and petrol station closed early in this tiny settlement. However, the lady offered to prepare a large bowl of French fries accompanied by a lovely fresh salad mostly from her garden. 

 

25 February – Bitterfontein – Garies – 63 km

Leaving Bitterfontein, the surrounding landscape reminded me of the Australian outback. Fortunately, not as harsh and widespread. En route, I met another cyclist en route to Cape Town. Henk Horstink hailed from the Netherlands and started riding in Windhoek. I met Tania and her husband on their way home to Strandfontein from the Kgalagadi. We chatted a while before moving on. 

Not a considerable amount happened along the lonely and hilly road, and my path soon reached the small settlement of Garies. Here Amanda had located a lovely cottage as the campsite was closed. 

 

26 February - Garies – Kamieskroon – 52 km

My unhurried departure was due to the short distance, and the sun was already high in the sky, cycling out of Garies. The way to Kamieskroon was hilly, and at the top of each rise, one could see the vastness of the surrounding area and the road far in the distance. It was dead quiet except for the occasional dassie scurrying to the safety of its den or a truck roaring past. I grinned from ear to ear on the downhill, but the grin faded on the slow slogs up the hills. Fortunately, the gradient was easy, and I pedalled into Kamieskroon, situated amongst stony hills, in good time. 

Kroon Lodge provided camping, a beautiful, well-equipped campsite where we were the only campers. By evening we lit a fire, Amanda braaied and I stuck to my bread and cheese sandwich. 

Laying in the tent one could look up at the sky and see a bright Milky Way. It was good the see the Southern Cross again.

 

27/29 February – Kamieskroon – Springbok – 70 km

It’s an immense pleasure to emerge from your tent in this barren landscape at sunrise. But, unfortunately, the nights can be cold and with a chill in the air I drank my coffee, enjoying the peace of this unique area.

The scenery was unchanged from the previous day, and the road stretched far into the distance over stony hills. Place names screamed adversity and hope. One couldn’t help but feel sorry for the people trying to make a living in this desolate and unforgiving area. Still, a strange air of calmness prevailed, and I enjoyed the ride up and over stony hills with their views over desolate valleys.

By the time I rolled into Springbok, Amanda had sent a message stating she was at the Springbok campsite, where she had booked a lovely chalet. Good thing, too, as we’d a few things to sort out before crossing the border into Namibia. 

The following day we did laundry and shopped for items we may need later; I found a new bike lock, chain tube, two spare tyres, and sealant. In addition, we stocked up on beer and crisps, as those are two things I don’t want to run out of. Hahaha. The main reason for stopping in Springbok was to get a PCR test before crossing into Namibia. The lady at PathCare informed a test takes up to two days and it will be easier and quicker to do the test at the border. We were delighted with this news and returned to the campsite.

 

1 March – Springbok – Vioolsdrif – 120km

Getting underway early was due to my fear of encountering a headwind or intense heat, but none materialised. Barely 10 kilometres outside Springbok was the turnoff to the mining towns of Okiep and Nababeep. Okiep is the oldest mining town in South Africa. By 1870, it was the richest copper mine in the world. Today, these two towns are only sad-looking settlements.

Midday, I met up with another cyclist from Italy and we chatted nonstop to Vioolsdrift.

Once at the border, we checked out of South Africa and on the Namibian side was escorted to the testing centre. To our shock and horror, we learned they stopped testing at that location that day! I felt sorry for the chap who accompanied us as it was his job and he was unaware of the new arrangements. No amount of explaining could change their minds, as the person doing the testing wasn’t there. We’d no option but to return to the South African side.

After much deliberation, Amanda and I opted for a night at the over-priced Vioolsdrift Lodge.

 

2/3 March – Vioolsdrift - Springbok – Vioolsdrift – By car

Amanda drove us to Springbok, where PCR tests were only done between 2-4 p.m. My word, what a performance! Eventually, we returned to PathCare, where we waited in line on plastic chairs. The process became a jovial affair and we learned the purpose of each one’s visit. The PCR results would be emailed and there was thus no reason to hang around. Finally, we returned to Vioolsdrift, where camping was at Kwelanga, a lovely spot on the river.

 

4 March – Vioolsdrift, South Africa – Aussenkehr, Namibia – 63 km

We chatted to Katy, the owner, forever before getting on the dirt road for the return trip to the border checkpoint. At least this time we’d our PCR tests and all went smoothly. The first stop was at a petrol station to buy a SIM card and have breakfast. Amanda continued to Aussenkehr and I enjoyed the last of the paved road for some time. It was a long and lonely stretch along the Orange River and the scenery desolate but spectacular.

Amanda located a lovely resort where camping was right on the river. The only problem was the lack of internet connection and thus no means of contacting me to tell me where to go, and she had to drive back to inform me.

The lodge sported a pool as well as a bar, and the sunset was spectacular as we lit a fire to braai.

 

001 CYCLE TOURING SOUTH AFRICA & LESOTHO

 

Photo by Grant Webb

1-2 SOUTH AFRICA & LESOTHO
1 767 Kilometres – 34 Days
27 March - 4 May 2007

PHOTOS

27 March - Cape Town, South Africa - Kleinmond

On a remarkably uneventful day, I embarked on a life-changing journey that would unknowingly last more than a decade. Ernest and I waved goodbye to friends and family and set out by bicycle for a ride through Africa. Unfortunately, I returned home shortly afterwards to take care of unfinished business. I only joined Ernest in Kleinmond that evening, making the day feel like any other day. In the process, I realised my bicycle was too heavily laden and wisely discarded a few items I believed were of utmost importance just the day prior. Once the necessary forms were signed, my sister dropped me in Kleinmond, a small coastal village, where I’d arranged to meet Ernest at the campsite.

Ernest enjoyed his new freedom so much that he drank too many beers during his ride. This made him so careless that he left behind his backpack containing all his valuables after ordering a takeaway meal. The kind owner of the Fish & Chips shop drove to the campsite to return his bag. How immensely kind of him. His action also marked the start of innumerable random acts of kindness, which continued during our travels.

 

28 March - Kleinmond - Hermanus – 38 km

Packing up was at leisure, the first of many to follow. A short and effortless ride took us to Hermanus, a seaside town known as a whale-watching destination. Ernest’s sister, Olga, and friend Donovan met us for lunch and picked up the tab afterwards. Later, Ernest and I cycled to our friends Dave and Kathy’s holiday flat, which they generously offered us. I was happy with this luxury after a night of camping.

 

29 March - Hermanus – Gansbaai (Goose Bay) - 53 km

Our luxury abode made a late departure, and it took forever to get going. The route led straight into the infamous south-easterly wind, a ferocious wind plaguing the coastal regions. Popping into the Birkenhead Brewery in Stanford might not’ve been the best idea. Upon leaving, the wind was of near gale force strength. It took all my energy grinding into the wind to reach Gansbaai, a small fishing community known as a cage-diving destination. Even in the high wind, we opted to camp at the small campsite flush next to the ocean where I was sure our tents would take off with us inside. Walking to a nearby restaurant took holding onto each other and leaning into the wind using all our strength.

 

30 March - Gansbaai - Bredasdorp - 101 km

Amazingly we survived the night, and the wind subsided ever so slightly during the night. Happy with the slight break in the weather, packing up was a speedy affair before hopping on the bikes in Pearly Beach’s direction. Although the wind wasn’t as strong as the previous day, it was still howling and required all my concentration and energy to keep going. Unfortunately, the dirt track from “The Dam” to Bredasdorp was in poor condition, sandy and heavily corrugated. Exhausted, I struggled up the hills, which made me wonder if this trip was such a good idea.

The campsite in Bredasdorp signalled the end of the day’s ride, and it dawned upon me that embarking on a long bicycle ride without training was a stupid thing to do. However, I considered it a tad late to have second thoughts and, with a sore backside, pitched the tent and drained of all energy, crawled in.

 

31 March - Bredasdorp - Swellendam – 76 km

The stretch between Bredasdorp and Swellendam was surprisingly hilly. A dirt road went up and down hills, through farmlands and past surprised looking sheep. Unfortunately, the weather was sweltering to such an extent, that the two newbies ran out of water, and Ernest had to jump a fence to fetch water from a sheep trough. Finding sheep in the Bredasdorp area wasn’t surprising as the town was established on a farm in 1838. The town’s establishment marked the beginning of South Africa’s merino sheep farming. To this day, sheep farming forms a large part of the farming activities in the area.

Upon crawling into picturesque Swellendam, the third oldest town in South Africa, I was exhausted and flopped down at a corner store. I didn’t expect the day to be quite as challenging. Only once a coke and plenty of water were consumed could I proceed to the campsite, a gorgeous spot in the shadows of the Langeberg Mountains.

 

1 April - Swellendam - Heidelberg – 60 km

I woke refreshed and was ready and eager to tackle the remaining hills. Even though I’d driven this road hundreds of times, I never realised how hilly the route was as things looked different from a vehicle’s comfort. The loaded bike made strenuous pedalling into the wind, especially uphill. Still, we struggled onwards, churning our way up the many hills, only stopping at a few farmstalls to fill our water bottles. The area is, for the most part, sparsely populated and consists primarily of wheat and sheep farms.

Shortly beyond midday, we pulled into tiny Heidelberg, which signalled the end of the day’s ride and where overnighting was at a charming, Cape-Duch style guesthouse. Heidelberg is another settlement that developed around a church in the 1800s. Nevertheless, Heidelberg owes its existence mainly to the railway line established in the early 1900s. Later, the town became a vital transport link for the area’s wool, wheat, fruit, and tobacco industries.

 

2-3 April - Heidelberg – Still Bay - 72 km

Upon departing, we experienced the friendliness of the Heidelbergers first-hand. A caring lady stopped and offered us accommodation at Still Bay as she heard we were heading there. This action made me wonder if I would ever do the same.

We thanked her for her generous offer but seeing my family had a holiday house at Still Bay; it wasn’t necessary to take her up on her offer. However, my Mom also lived in the small seaside village of Still Bay, and thus worth the detour. So, we returned to the hilly road, and our first stop was at Riversdale to pick up refreshments. Then onward to Still Bay via a route where the hills had names to the likes of “Skerpkoppies” and “Langhoogte”, roughly translating to “Steep hill” and “Long hill”.

Eventually, Still Bay and my mom’s house came into view. We were welcomed with a massive bowl of macaroni cheese, one of my favourite dishes.

The following day was spent at Still Bay trying to explain why a person would wish to do such a thing as biking through Africa twice.

 

4 April – Still Bay - Mossel Bay – 100 km

Tailwind assisted; Ernest and I left Still Bay to bike along a gravel path past Gourits River to Mossel Bay. This picturesque ride sported ocean vistas and ran past pristine natural vegetation. In the harbour town of Mossel Bay, camping was at The Point Caravan Park. Once the tents were pitched and the usual greetings extended, a walk into town provided supper. On our return to camp, we got plenty of stares, and it appeared a rarity to see bicycle tourers. Our actions were observed with great interest and came with the usual; “Where are you from?” and “Where are you going?” I knew where I came from, but these questions made me realise I’d no idea about my long-term plans. On returning from my 2005 Africa trip, I dreamt of a long cycle touring ride and tentatively started gearing up for such an adventure. I sold two of my properties. The profit paid all outstanding monies, leaving two fully paid houses rented out at the time. I bought a new bike and ordered panniers and racks; still, no definite plans were put in place as I was trying to sell my small business. In the process, I tried to convince Ernest to join the adventure, but he wanted nothing of it and had many excuses. I was thus astonished when he showed me the bicycle racks he planned to make. He never mentioned he would be interested in joining me or would be interested in undertaking such a trip.

 

5 April - Mossel Bay – Wilderness - 73 km

Mossel Bay and Storms River form part of the Garden Route - a 300-kilometres stretch along South Africa’s south-eastern coast.

As the name indicates, the area was blessed with stunning scenery, ecologically diverse vegetation and numerous estuaries and lakes. So we pedalled on, enjoying the magnificent vistas. In George, we popped in at the bike shop to greet our friend Julian and then made our way to Wilderness. The Ebb and Flow campsite is one of my favourite places in South Africa. It is located on the Touws River in the Wilderness National Park. Sadly, the camp shop was closed, but a fellow camper offered us six beers, for which he refused payment. How generous of him. In the late afternoon, a three-kilometre cycle took us to the village and a restaurant. Returning in the dark after a glass or two of wine was quite challenging. Mercifully camp was reached without incident and before getting soaked.

 

6 April - Wilderness

I emerged to a drizzle that continued through the day—a good excuse to lay in and listen to the sounds of the Louries and numerous other birds.

Amanda, my sister, visited us, and the three of us stayed put and enjoyed a day at leisure.

 

7 April - Wilderness – Knysna - 53 km

The day started promising and what should’ve been a comfortable ride became a battle into a storm-strength wind. Luckily, Amanda transported our panniers, allowing us to cycle unencumbered into Knysna. Knysna was home to the indigenous Khoisan until Europeans arrived. I believe Knysna is a Khoisan word meaning “place of wood” or “fern leaves”. Today Knysna is a trendy holiday town known for its Oyster festival held in June/July each year.

The town offered many attractions, one of which was the bustling waterfront. We did the touristy thing and joined the crowds to watch the cricket and grab a bite to eat. But, as the South Africans were heading towards disaster, we considered it best to return to camp, where new arrivals invaded our site.

 

8 April - Knysna – Keurboom Strand - 47 km

Getting out of Knysna was in brilliant weather but via a good climb out of the valley. Amanda followed in the van and again transported our panniers, resulting in Ernest and I having an enjoyable ride. The plan was to camp at Keurbooms River, but they jacked up their prices, and we pedalled towards Keurboom Strand.

People’s kindness amazed me, from offering to charge iPods to providing food and accommodation.

 

9 April – Keurboom Strand – Storms River Village - 58 km

Shortly beyond Keurboom Strand was Storms River, a highly scenic ride as the road ran through the Tsitsikamma National Park. The area was littered with adventure activities, from bridge swings and tubing to 5-day hiking trails.

This part of the country offers excellent riding, especially on a sunny day and with a breeze on your back. En route, we met my friend Nico who drove from Knysna to meet us. Being an experienced cyclist, he didn’t come empty-handed but brought coke and hot cross buns. Thanks, Nico. We chatted a little and, fuelled by the coke and hot-cross buns, biked to Storms River Village. Camping was at the Backpackers, a pleasant place sporting a substantial garden, green lawn and a friendly atmosphere.

 

10 April - Storms River - Jeffreys Bay - 114 km

A tailwind made easy cruising to J-Bay, a famous surfing town through the Tsitsikamma National Park. It’s a stunning area through dense forests, and if you add a long descent and a good tailwind, it makes a perfect day of cycling. Camping was at Kabbeljous Campsite, and after pitching the tents, we searched out our friends Mark and Riekie, where pizzas were ordered. Riekie was kind enough to do our laundry, which stank too high heaven by then.

 

11 April - Jeffreys Bay – Colchester - 116 km

Upon waking to a tailwind, the best was made of the favourable conditions, and we pushed onward to Colchester. The rural roa, via Uitenhage, made slow going resulting in getting to the tiny settlement of Colchester late. Instead of biking a further five kilometres down a sandy track to where camping was available at the Sundays River, we opted for digs in the village. Our choice was a good one, as no sooner had we settled in than rain came pelting down. Rain bucketed down the best part of the night, but our little wooden bungalow was cosy and warm.

 

12 April - Colchester – Paterson - 36 km

It dawned clear and sunny despite the weather report predicting rain. We pointed our bikes in the direction of Paterson. Shortly after getting underway the route turned off the N2 and onto the N10 which veered inland. My legs felt tired and I decided to call it a day at the small settlement of Paterson. The campsite was in George and Helen’s backyard, beside the Red House farm stall. The site couldn’t have been a more interesting affair as their yard came with chickens, ducks and a gaggle of geese.

One can’t travel in this area and not mention the sad life of Saartjie Baartman. Born in 1789, her mother died when she was two and her father died a few years later. Her partner, with whom she had a baby (who died), was murdered by a Dutch colonist, following which she worked as a domestic help in Cape Town.

In October 1810, though illiterate, Baartman allegedly signed a contract with English ship surgeon William Dunlop, saying she would travel to England to participate in shows. The reason was Saartjie Baartman had what was called “steatopygia”. This condition resulted in highly protuberant buttocks due to a build-up of fat. Her build made her a cause of fascination in Europe. She was exhibited at London’s Piccadilly Circus venue and paraded around at freak shows in London and Paris. In addition, wealthy customers paid for private demonstrations at their homes. As a result, their guests could observe her at a close distance and even touch her.

Sarah Baartman died on 29 December, 1815, at age 26 (most likely due to syphilis, alcoholism and pneumonia), but her exhibition continued. Her brain, skeleton and sexual organs remained displayed in a Paris museum until 1974. Her remains were repatriated and buried in 2002.

Today, many see her as the epitome of colonial exploitation and racism. I can’t think of a more tragic life.

 

13 April - Paterson – Middelton - 70 km

Following a breakfast of roosterkoek and coffee from the Red House farmstall, the road led over the Olifantskop Pass. The climb was steep, but the views at the top were spectacular, we even spotted giraffes and monkeys. The area is known as the Blue Crane Route, and approximately 350 species of birds appear in the area. Middleton was a hamlet but sported a surprising guesthouse. The old railway station had been converted into a guesthouse. Youngsters ran it from the Noupoort Drug Rehabilitation Centre. We’d a delicious supper and then settled into our tents as the nights were becoming downright freezing.

 

14 April - Middelton - Farm outside Cradock - 83 km

Leaving was earlier than usual as we imagined having breakfast along the way. The first settlement was Cookhouse, which was even smaller than Paterson but offered a bite to eat. The going was dreadfully slow as the best part of the day was spent pedalling into a stiff breeze. Heading up Daggaboersnek the going was even slower. Once over the pass, a farm stall lured us in. A couple from Cradock recommended a farm guest cottage roughly 25 kilometres before Cradock. We set out in that direction, arriving at the farm shortly before sunset. The cabin turned out comfortable, along with a highly accommodating host. No sooner had we settled in and Elza brought us fresh milk, bread, cheese and fruit.

 

15 April - Farm - Cradock Spa - 33 km

Our late departure was due to our overnighting plans at Cradock, situated along the banks of the Great Fish River, barely 30 kilometres away and hence no rush. Cradock has an old and fascinating history dating back thousands of years to when San hunter-gatherers were the sole human inhabitants of southern Africa. Sadly, as the entire South Africa, the area bears the scars of colonialism and apartheid. One is known as The Cradock Four. Activists Matthew Goniwe, Sparrow Mkhonto, Fort Calata and Sicelo Mhlauli—were abducted while travelling from Port Elizabeth to Cradock in 1985. They were then taken to an unknown destination, assaulted, killed and their bodies and the vehicle burnt. The Cradock Four Memorial is located in Lingelihle, a township near Cradock. The monument was erected on 22 July 2000 to commemorate the Cradock Four. Regrettably, there are many similar incidences in South Africa.

Upon that sad note, we slinked into Cradock into a gusty breeze, and a quick lunch later proceeded to Cradock Spa located approximately 4 kilometres outside town. The establishment was a tad run down but still, a pleasant enough spot to spend a day soaking in its natural sulphur waters rumoured to treat rheumatism.

 

16 April - Cradock Spa

The following day was spent relaxing at the spa, only leaving to cycle the short distance into the village to do the necessary shopping. There we uncovered an internet café at the hairdresser and albeit slow, managed to send a few emails.

 

17 April - Cradock Spa – Hofmeyr - 62 km

The day dawned clear and sunny as we biked off to the next settlement. The countryside was vast and quite extraordinary. Ernest had no less than two flat tires, but we soon came upon Hofmeyr a small community consisting of three dirt lanes and one paved road. Typical of a small Karoo town, Hofmeyr sported tin-roofed homes, Pepper willows, a church, a small shop, a school and a police station. Hofmeyr surprisingly had a small B&B known as “The Pondokkie”, owned by friendly Joey and Derick. Again, the evening was spent in front of the TV. At least this time the South African cricket team won. Phew, I thought I would never see the day!

 

18 April - Hofmeyr – Steynsburg - 46 km

Following a wholesome breakfast, we were sent on our way by Derick with a copy of the paper and a packet of fudge. Fuelled by sugar, we sailed up the hills and through the shrubby vegetation between Hofmeyr and Steynsburg. The weather forecast predicted thunderstorms and dark clouds made us pull into historic Steynsburg which developed around a Church in 1872. Steynsburg was a tad bigger than Hofmeyr and besides the historic church was home to Redefin Campsite. The campsite came as a surprise, and included green lawns, barbeque pits, a covered area, and neat, clean toilets and showers. Nothing came of the thunderstorms, hence an excellent time to repair tubes and do other odd jobs. The weather looked promising, and we set out to the little mini-mart to buy meat and wood for a braai. Whilst admiring the extraordinary cloud formations, a sudden storm hit, and the rain came bucketing down. We ran for cover and to close the tents, but, alas, too late. The downpour lasted no more than an hour and a half, and as suddenly as it occurred, the storm abated, and stars came out, revealing a cloudless sky.

 

19 April - Steynsburg – Burgersdorp - 79 km

I woke to a brilliantly clear morning and could hardly believe the previous night’s storm. Once packed up, our route veered towards Burgersdorp only a slightly larger town than Steynsburg, dating to 1869 when a Theological Seminary was established. The Stynsburgers were curious but friendly, from the lady in the bottle store, who gave Ernest a discount on the beer, to the cyclists who paid us a visit at camp. The campsite at “The Dam” was gorgeous and tranquil under well-established trees. The recreational area must’ve been quite popular in its hay day. Sadly, nearly all facilities were dilapidated by the time of our visit. Still, Andries Pienaar, the caretaker assured us a hot water cylinder had been delivered and merely needed installation. This time we were more careful, and pitched our tents under cover, and ensured all was closed when the storm came in. The city slickers were learning fast.

 

20 April - Burgersdorp – Maletswai (formerly known as Aliwal North) - 67 km

Wanting to get to the hot springs in Maletswai we were keen to get going. As I remember from a previous visit many years earlier, the spa was lovely. The mild temperature and big blue sky made perfect cycling. In Maletswai (Aliwal), founded in 1850 and situated upon the Orange River we rode straight to the hot springs, which was a disappointment. The facilities were dilapidated, ceilings were falling in, metalwork was rusted, and the walls peeling. At least one indoor pool was still operational, although everything was broken, from the rails to the stairs. Still, it was a pleasurable experience to soak in its mineral-rich water. Afterwards, a short cycle took us into town and to a restaurant. Not knowing what to expect, finding the Spur up to its usual good standard came as a relief. Returning and discussing how lucky we were to escape the storms, dark clouds rolled in, making us pedal like the clappers. No sooner were we settled into our tents than thunder and lightning started and rain came gushing down.

 

22 April – Maletswai – Zastron - 75 km

The time was 12h30 before finally getting underway, as we first soaked in 34 degrees Celsius water and then headed into town to see if I could find camping gas. No such luck, though, especially on a Sunday. Tailwind assisted, we meandered towards Zastron a small agricultural town situated at the foothills of the Aasvoelberg, known for the rare Cape vultures. Once there an idyllic campsite was uncovered. The camp had green lawns dominated by giant trees, loads of birdlife and piping hot water in the ablutions.

 

23 April – Zastron, South Africa – Mohale’s Hoek, Lesotho - 58 km

Ernest dragged his heels, and the time thus past ten before riding out of Zastron. Our first stop was at the tourist information, which doubled as the printer and the bike shop. Ernest, tired of fixing punctures bought sealant to control the ongoing flat tires for good. Seeing Zastron was 30 kilometres from the Lesotho border, we headed towards tiny Lesotho along a gravel road. I say “tiny” as Lesotho barely covers 30,355 km2.

Interestingly, Lesotho is the only independent state globally that lies entirely above 1,000 metres in elevation. Its lowest point is 1,400 metres and over 80 percent of the country lies above 1,800 metres. Lesotho is further entirely surrounded by South Africa. Once across the border, Ernest noticed a pub and stopped to sample a Maluti Beer. Then, with heavy legs, we proceeded to Mohale’s Hoek. Our dirt road led over hills and past mountain villages and traditional mud huts under thatch. Upon spotting us, kids came running through the fields calling greetings of “Dumela, dumela”.

Once in Mohale’s Hoek, we weakened at the idea of a room at the Monateng Hotel. Even though the hotel was a tad neglected, they served ice-cold Maluti beers. Supper was a great treat consisting of Pap (maise porridge cooked to be either runny, soft or stiff.) accompanied by marog (a well-known traditional food cooked and used like spinach) and beans.

 

24 April - Mohales’s Hoek – Wepener - 74 km

The next morning our route took us via Mafeteng and Van Rooyen’s gate towards South Africa. I was sad to leave Lesotho that soon, as the people were super friendly, and the country was peaceful. Taking Lesotho’s mountainous location, the endless hills encountered were no surprise. Still, children came running through the fields to see what two whities on bicycles were doing in their neck of the woods.

Wepener had no camping and an additional night was spent in a guesthouse. Albeit far over our budget the guesthouse was outstanding, with a vast and beautiful garden, spacious, well-decorated rooms, as well as a lively bar and good food. I was, therefore, happy we didn’t bypass Wepener.

 

25 April - Wepener - Dewetsdorp - 43 km

Dewetsdorp was a short amble away and as Bloemfontein was a further 70 kilometres down the drag, I considered it best to stay put. Dewetsdorp is a small village, which surprisingly offers lodging. The owner promptly gave us a discount when he learned of our little adventure. We looked a tad worse for wear, I guessed.

Our early arrival gave us time to do laundry and watch cricket. Unfortunately, the South Africans had a dreadful game, and we instead decided to fill our stomachs. Small towns often came as a pleasant surprise. I could hardly believe Dewetsdorp sported a quaint little restaurant that served pizzas.

 

26 April - Dewetsdorp – Bloemfontein - 80 km

Departing, Dewetsdorp was at the crack of dawn in anticipation of another day battling a headwind. Still, a stiff headwind marred the day. Our early start made slinking into the Backpackers hostel in Bloemfontein at around lunchtime. Ernest located a bike shop to straighten his bicycle rim, indicating the beginning of his ongoing bike problems.

 

27 April – Bloemfontein

An additional day was spent in Bloem as I’d decided to cycle Europe instead. Seeing I’d already cycled Africa barely two years earlier and Ernest and I disagreed about virtually everything, I considered it better to go my own way. I didn’t care for his constant bickering and booked a flight to London, where I intended to cycle the UK and Europe. So my ride as a tourist in my home country ended. Following this unsuccessful start I was cautiously excited to resume my journey on a different continent.

During my stay in Bloem, I was lucky enough to catch up with my friend Rita, who was in Bloemfontein, taking part in the Master’s Championship. She participated in the 100m and the 200m and won both. Well done, Rita!

 

28 April – Bloemfontein – Cape Town (by train)

I hurried to the station to catch the train to Cape Town. The Railway Station was quite an experience, devoid of staff and dirty. The train was two hours late, but eventually, I waved goodbye to Ernest. He seemed delighted by my departure as it was the first time I saw him smile since departing Cape Town.

 

29 April – Cape Town

The train, in contrast to the station, was a pleasant surprise. The coaches were new and the staff was extremely helpful and friendly. What a good experience, and the train pulled into Cape Town station dead on time.

The next few days were spent boxing the bicycle and repacking panniers for my flight to London. I was immensely excited to get going.

 

5 May – Cape Town, South Africa – London, United Kingdom

Phoning around to several SAA offices, the verdict on transporting a bike by plane was one had to take the bicycle as part of your luggage. I feared the flight would become a pricey affair at the quoted price. My essential items alone weighed 25kg and so did the bike. Finally, I got to the check-in counter, bank card in hand, ready to pay my way. Therefore, you can imagine my relief when told the payment was a considerably smaller once-off payment—what a relief.