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After a typical late start we headed east along the coast to a campsite in Hermanus which was packed full with redneck Afrikaners getting their Easter fill of barbecued Boerwors (a traditional South African sausage) whilst scouring the 'outsiders' with distaste...well, that's the way it seemed at the time anyway! Maybe it had something to do with turning up late the night before leaving the motorbike running to cool-down whilst setting up the tent?
So we entered the Garden Route area of S.A as we rode east towards Mossel Baai, a legendary surf-spot which turned out to be one of the old "you should have been here yesterday" spots.
Like a lot of places in the world, the South Africans have cottoned onto the tourist dollar charging exorbitant prices to do anything. To camp at Natures Valley was no exception to the rule, prompting us to move further along the coast to Storms River. Everything happens for a reason, and in this case it turned out that a friend we had met in Cape Town, Courtney, was also staying there.
We tripled up on the motorbike with Courtney sandwiched in the middle wearing a trusty horse-riding helmet
to a Nature Reserve, and walked around the pristine wilderness enjoying the company of 800 year old trees.
Nothing like a bit of Dutch courage to get you Fire-walking I reckon! After a night of chilling-out by the outdoor fire-pit which we had been stoking all night to mammoth proportions, I decided there were perfect embers for fire-walking...just like I had done at high school. After raking the embers into a nice long pit I yelled to Gwen from the other side to cross. "It's no worries!" I think the blisters have healed now (2 months later) but it might be a while before she tries it again!
The next day the Bloukrans River loomed 216m below us. The 4 seconds of free-fall and 4 seconds stretching on the bungy definitely gave you enough time to think, and also say, what was going through your mind. Generally words four letters in length! An absolutely fantastic bungy-jump though, which stretches you out 180 meters below the bridge recoiling you up 80% on the first rebound. Dangling there high above the forest canopy and river, I could see the Titsikama National Park below where we were to be hiking in
Surfing in Jeffrey's Bay
6'6" of pure blue happiness the afternoon.
The Otter-Trail in the Titsikama N.P took us along a beautiful stretch of rugged coastline. Obviously this well kept secret wasn't so well kept as scores of travellers dodged each other clambering over the rocky outcrops and boulders.
Jeffrey's Bay, and yes, what a time to arrive! 5 days of solid swell combined with wicked people staying at the hostel led to an awesome stay. It was more like a flat than a hostel due to everyone staying there was in it for the long term, either searching for a proper flat or content to be literally just one minutes walk from one of the most famous waves in the world. I made the most of surfing there in some truly humbling powerful waves...I've still got good scars from coming in the wrong channel over the reef!
You know how some days just aren't meant to be yours...arriving into Cintsa after a couple of days riding in the rain we followed the muddy tracks up to Buccaneers hostel where we set up the tent in the rain. After getting sketchy directions of where to cross the river and get up the bank on the other
Motley crue of Misty Lodge
Xavier, Gwen, Dave, Erika and Ian side to find a grocery shop, we set off in the dark. Of course my head-torch batteries decided to die on the way, leading to me stubbing my toe on rocks in the river and falling backwards chest deep...if only I'd taken my money-belt off. Clambering up the other side in what I made out to be the most likely track, I found myself walking through private property. Traipsing along the house deck completely sopping-wet, feeling dodgy as hell in the darkness, I came across the owners in a compromising position in the spa-pool...I didn't look back during the quick exit and leap over the fence! The shop had closed...
The ride through the Transkei region of South Africa was truly beautiful. The rolling green hills are dotted by pastel coloured Xhosa huts. The Xhosa people are indigenous to the area and amazingly friendly. The Xhosa kids always run out from their homes and wave and seem genuine in their hospitality. I experienced it first hand when kids came running over the hills to help me pick up the bike from the mud...a couple of times!
Arriving into Bulungula was a bit of a relief, the '4x4 only'
Bulungula road maddness
The next one took off a mirror! muddy rutted track and river crossings had taken their toll on the bikes mirrors and my nerves.
It was excellent spending some time in the Xhosa community chilling-out in the beautiful surroundings. Bulungula is a backpackers/camping area that's 40% owned by the local Xhosa community. Walking through the countryside was rewarding, like finding this mud-hut restaurant which served up excellent pancakes cooked over coals.
Going to the Shebeens (traditionally illegal pubs where women brewed beer and Black people could drink during Apatheid, but now sell commerical beer) at night was fun, sitting with the men on one side, women opposing, all in complete darkness, listening to the discussions of the villagers.
We rode out of Bulungula unscathed onto Mdumbi, another camping area in the Xhosa community, this time 100% owned by the local community. The renowned surf-spot kept it's secret so after a couple of days we started heading towards Lesotho in the north...
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Phil
non-member comment
What? No surf pictures?
Hey Nick, the title says it all.