Ode to a bicycle

---

So strong was the smell of the green rolling hills that it literally attacked me with childhood memories.
I wasn’t cycling through the verdant valleys of the Western Cape, I was cycling down memory lane. Through an outdoor childhood spent at my grandfathers farm, running through the high late-summers grass, pulling pranks with my grandmother as she carried firewood down to the house and eating bedtime sandwiches and drinking hot chocolate while listening to my father’s many stories.

This was cycling.
Never before while travelling had I felt so free. No bus to catch in the morning. I had just to wake up whenever I wanted to, cook some breakfast on the stove and then gently start pedalling.
Everything was perfect - it’s the cliché of clichés but never the less was it true.
The different landscapes we passed were among the most picturesque I had ever seen. I thought as we crossed the Western Cape - the core of the Fynbos Floral Kingdom - dressed in its wintry gown.
What made it so beautiful was that we didn’t experience it from behind a car window. We experienced it with all our senses.

Cape Agulhas, the southernmost tip of Africa with its awe-inspiring and dramatic coastline we not only saw but felt, as we had to use our own muscle power to reach it. The satisfaction of finally reaching this southern apex by car or a motorbike can never be compared to arriving by your own force.
The over-hyped lushness of the Garden Route with its many tourist-friendly “white” towns and well marketed attractions had its own undeniable appeal as we slowly smelled, heard, saw, tasted and felt our way through the region. But the best part of the journey was the underestimated Overberg region.
Fields of cereal swaying in the wind over the rolling hills, met us as we pedalled the back roads through the countryside, sleeping at small farms and meeting friendly new people every night.
Here we met genuine friendliness and unmatched hospitality. Every night we shared fate with someone new, someone different. Every night being very interesting. Every night equally; important, inspiring, educative, fun, heart-warming and wonderful.

We got to see the best part of South Africa. It’s this image I’d like to keep of the Rainbow Nation.

Habitually we “almost overstay” our visas. There was no difference to that this time. As we entered the “friendly city” Port Elisabeth (trust me, the moniker is actually true.) we left our bikes at some friends' house, packed our belongings into plastic bags and quickly jumped the first bus heading up north towards the closest border. We had less than 24 hours to leave the country.

The snowcapped kingdom of Lesotho was to become our new temporary abode.

---

Photos

The journey went uphill
Overberg backroads.

Through the valleys
Overberg backroads

Along the coast
South of Kogel Baai

Past open fields
Overberg backroads.

And thick forests
Storm's River, The Garden Route.

Passing lagoons
Plettensberg Bay, The Garden Route.

And lakes
Sedgefield. The Garden Route.

Meeting new friends
Kolbus Human was an extremely friendly ostrich farmer, who took us in for the night. It was strange because I'd been wanting to try an ostrich omelet the whole day and the first thing he offered us was??? Next to our bed there was 7 bibles, I never asked Kolbus if he was an fanatic Christian an instead I just assumed that he was a compulsive collectore on famous books that begin with a "B"...

And meeting new species
The tripple-beaked ostrich was far from amused as we snatched one of her eggs and whisked up a monstrous omelet.

We crossed rivers
The only hand-hauled ferry in South AFrica. Malghas, The Overberg region.

And traintracks
The train setting off from "downtown" Albertinia.

We had our first accident
Nothing more thana scratch, but nevertheless the first time I fell. George, The Garden Route.

And washed away the pain with beer
Tube N Axe Backpacker's Pub, Storm's River Village, The Garden Route.

And yet more...
This friendly fellow, stopped us just outside Humansdorp and gave us two bottles of beer. He had seenus a day earlier and stood clapping his hands as we aproached his car. Similar things like this seemed to happen every day, and I believe it's only because of the bikes.

In the evenings we would wine and dine modestly
At a small padstal along the road east of Swellendam. The kind old couple let us stay in their camperwagon and cooked us tea and gave us cookies. The old man had Alzheimers and managed to forget my name 8 times in about 3hours time. Very charming.

Or when opportunities were given, in more comfort
A car stopped on the road 200m in front of us and a tall, tall man stepped out. -Would you like to stay in my hotel tonight for free? He took us to a beautiful three star hotel right on the beach in Wilderness. Jacuzzi, Queen-sized bed, our own kitchen and more breakfast than we could eat (not feeling ashamed). The Dune lodge, was the most upmarket accomodation we staid in, and we are forever thankful for the unbelievable opportunity we were given.

WORK
On the factory floor the conditions and salaries are far from good, and there is a stark segregation between "Black mans job" and "White mans job" in the Western Cape. Less so in the other regions, but in the Western Cape colonial valuesa and lifestyles are reluctant to change.

EAT
What's very important among the Africans are tradition. If all other black people buy their food at Shoprite, then so must I. Shoprite has the lowest quality among the South African shopping centres, but not neccesarily the cheapest prices. But because of tradition the black population would always be back to buy more. The best day to go is at the end of the month when there's total havoc in the Shoprites and the queues last for hours. Tradition is important.

SLEEP
Touring through the township of Knysna. The Khayalethu township actually has the best views over Knysna and the whole lagoon. One day this will undoubtedly be gentrified into expensive apartment blocks for vacationing Europeans, unless the coming president turns S.A. into the Zim...

With yet more mountains in the background
East of Stanford, in the Overgerg region.

And cold valleys to visit
East of Nature's Valeey where the Western Cape meets the Eastern Cape, they have the worlds highest bungy-jump. This is at the bottom of the deep valley.

Comments

[Marcoelitaliano]

Short but Good.
As good as it gets. As usual. And, Yes, cycling is the real way of travelling.