A Bull Enters the Ring

It's been awhile. I know. I apologize. It's just that we were away from the internet and all for a bit and we're just now catching up. It's Friday, December 19th and we leave on Monday, December 22nd. So this very well might be our last African blog. Quite a sad thought for us. We arrived in Zanzibar on Monday, August 4th and are leaving having spent 140 days here. It's gone by so quickly, but before I get misty-eyed, let's cover what we've just come through. We've put up some pictures from the trip.

Dec 7th: We left Stellenbosch around 10:30 because we had arranged a master class tasting at Graham Beck. We had tasted with the folks before and loved it. Seeing that they had a "master class tasting," we decided to go for it. It was quite a hassle to get the whole thing setup, and an even bigger disappointment, unfortunately. We even wrote a complaint. Just wasn't as billed.

So we left Franschhoek and drove to Montague, about 3 hours of beautiful mountain passes and into the Karoo, which is a semi-arid area nestled into the mountains that run the southern coast. We stayed at a caravan park outside town and were wondering if the rock climbing guide we had arranged would follow through.

At about 8pm, he rang us and we setup the meeting for the next day.

Dec 8th: 8am sharp, Justin arrived. He's a work-from-home web designed with his wife, Ricky, who happens to love to climb and was filling in for the normal person. It was quite lucky, because he was great. We hopped in his truck, drove less than 10 minutes and hiked up to the crag we were supposed to ascend. It had been quite awhile for the both of us since we'd climbed, so the rust was thick, but we managed to have a great time.

It was both our first experience actually climbing outside and we realized the enormous difference between indoor and outdoor. When you're not confined by walls and insulation, the reality of what you're doing sits quite close to what you think you're doing. Inside, you can pretty much pretend that you're doing whatever you want. For instance, when I'm inside, I sometimes imagine I'm a little 5" man climbing CD racks. Don't know why. But in the end, the climbing was absolutely fantastic and Erin and I have decided this is definitly an activity to do again.

That night, Justin invited us over for a "Bring 'n Braai" (BYO BBQ) and we spent the evening chatting with him and Ricky about travels and whatnot, going from rock climbing to motorcycling to their housing decorations or how both their parents moved to Montague after them and now live 2 doors down from each other. All in all it was an great evening getting to know some very fun people. (Justin and Ricky, if you reading this, thanks for everything.)

Dec 9th: We had decided after driving to Montague in 37°C weather that it would be a good idea to get up early to finish our driving before the desert heat set it. So we set out around 6am or so for Stormsrivier on the Indian Ocean. We made the unknowningly large decision to take Prince Alfred's pass on the way there. I was pretty sure that it was gravel, which would make it the first real gravel road that we took with Tito. The first part uphill was quite easy and we finished in about 20 minutes or so. We took pictures next to the signs and celebrated a bit, then took off to just "head down the pass."

As I now know, but didn't know then, the downhill portion is much more slow and difficult than the uphill, particularly with two on a bike lacking offroad or dual-purpose tires. A slick front tire is a very frightening thing. 2 hours and at least 50 km later, we were celebrating again as we hit tarmac. Who knew a paved road could be so beautiful. So after the difficult ride, we went to the hostel we had gone out of our way to visit and didn't visit a thing. No hikes or anything, just hanging out with the other people, asking "how was the hike?" as we sat back and drank a couple beers before we passed out from exhaustion.

Dec 10th: Leaving Stormsrivier, we were planning on heading up to Hogsback on our way to the Drackensburg Mountains. Quite soon after starting, we heard that there was a police roadblock on the road ahead, propelling us toward a circuitous gravel route which passed through rows and rows of beautiful crops, which proceeded to transform into a rolling plain with elephants, zebras and wildebeast playing in Addo National Park. A surprise sidetrip that turned out to be quite enjoyable, until we saw dark clouds on the horizon. Hoping for the best, we continued on but were soon fighting fog and thick mist, riding the shoulder at 40km/hr (common in Africa on a slow moving vehicle).

We stopped at the first town possible, which was Grahamstown. The first thing we did was get some coffee to warm up and dry out. Then we found a backpackers, which happened to be the town's old jail. The rooms were the cells, complete with low-height solid wood door harbouring a tiny barred window protecting a tiny room. Erin was not excited about staying in jail (bad memories, dear?)

but I convinced her that looking around for other options would be too difficult, so we stayed there. The bar provided a couple complementary drinks which convinced us that it was apropro to stay in the bar and watch the wonderful film where Steve Zizzou waltzs around in a wetsuit. The movie ended up not happenning, but we were happy anyway, hitting the sack around 9pm knowing a long day was ahead of us.

Dec 11-12th: Leaving Grahamstown under still cloudy skys, we proceeded nearly 470km through overcast skys, partial rain, and some sun here and there just to remind us what life could have been like if we had better karma. We did make it to Port St. John's to chill on the beach for a couple days.

Watching the waves roll in was the perfect relaxer that we needed in order to recharge our batteries before heading off to the Drakensburgs.

Dec 13th: Left Port St. Johns around 5:30am or so, we took off to reach Underburg. Erin was driving under blue skies, managed mountain passes with ease, while I sat on the back and contemplated the world passing by us. It was a long drive, but a beautiful one that really made us both realize how different travelling by bike was. Though slower, there is a more intimate relation with the world you're passing through. Arriving around 3pm at the lodge, we setup tent and then planned out the next day of hiking. We were talking about checking out the Sani Pass that day, but decided the clouds were menacing

and we should wait to the morning. Excellent decision, as quickly a mountain thunderstorm entered the area like a bull enters a ring. The rain came quickly and heavy, quickly proving that our tent was in no way whatsoever waterproof. Coming from both the top and the bottom, the water poured through in all directions it seems, soaking our helmets, jackets, sleeping bags, aka everything. So we moved into the dorm and slept in a warm bed.

Dec 14th: Wet morning,

most of our things still wet, so we decided to move along to the "Central Burgs" (we were in the Southern Burgs) but we needed to test Tito prior. Luckily, we were on one of the world's most spectacular mountain passes, connecting South Africa to Eastern Lesotho.

(If you read up the history, it's a marvel they were even able to construct it.) We were planning on heading up to the SA border post. The bike was put to the test, and it succeeded. We had a great time on the pass and saw some amazing mountains.

Returning to the Sani Pass Lodge, we packed up and headed up to Inkosana Lodge, via gravel roads hugging the skirt of the mountains. Erin took up the gravel challenge and roared off to a slow, but steady start. Proving her muddle,

Erin navigated around a gorgeous area spliting ranches, farms and wild mountains. Fantastic.

We arrived too late on a sunday to replenish our supplies, so we were stuck buying dinner form the hostel. Quite a fortuitous decision (did our karma return?) because dinner was the closest thing to Thanksgiving we were able to get in SA. Roast chicken, bean soup, pumpkin/squash, rice, topped off with a decadent chocolate cake.

Heaven on a plate.

Dec 15th: Did nothing. Absolutely nothing but play scrabble and monopoly. Tough day. We thought about hiking, but then it started raining and that idea was quickly vetoed. Erin was worried about the rain and the tent, so she slept on the cold, hard concrete of the communal kitchen. I chose the tent and stayed completely dry. Luckily, since I was not envying the poured floor.

Dec 16th: Early morning again, planning to head to the Ampitheatre in the Northern Burgs, but the cloudy day meant we would not be able to see the world's second highest waterfall (so they claim at 967m). So we pushed on to Bloemfontein, which ended up being about 490km. There was a rally for COPE (recently created splinter party) and a counter-rally for ANC (majority party), so we decided to watch a movie at the movie theatre (The Women, with Meg Ryan and Annette Benning and a whole slew of other ladies) before heading to sleep.

Dec 17th: The drive took us from Bloemfontein to Graff-Reneit in the Karoo, leading back into the desert, since we were so tired of rain and cold. We were taking a slight detour on our return to Stellenbosch for the Valley of Desolation. The area was a fun drive up to the mountains overlooking the town and the hidden pillars of erosion-scarred rock.

Recalling climbing the mountains in Montague, we looked on with hopeless dreams of climbing the pillars. Understand, see, that we had planned on taking picnic up to the top and watching the sun set over the giant lego sandstone towers. However, the desert makes things very dry and humans very thirsty, so we ran out of water and couldn't very well have cheese, sausage and crackers on a parched throat. Impossible. So we returned to the lonely caravan park to find our tent had busted a pole, which we immidiately MacGyvered with two zip-ties, and worked quickly onto dinner and sleep.

Dec 18th: That's yesterday, so I'm almost to the present. Whew. Graff-Reneit to Swellendam was a 600km driving highlighting a police stop (which was nerve-racking given our dubious legal status), an incredibly slow lunch, Ronnie's Sex Shop (not a sex shop but a bar with an eyebrow-raising name), and very sore bums. The final leg included the beautiful but harrowing Tradouws Pass to keep us on our toes, thowing sheer cliffs and precipitous ledges as obstacles. We had pushed hard through perfect riding weather in order to have an easy drive to Stellenbosch. One of these pushes was about 150km with 4 turns. I counted. There was a 60km stretch without a turn. That becomes quite monotonous with no other cars, save the occasional exception, to even avoid. All before breakfast.

Safe arrival revealed a beautiful town nuzzled in the mountains with a band preparing to play. We setup tent (under a bigger party tent that looked more waterproof), bought dinner at the grocery store, played a game of chess and listened to a live band play by the firelight. A very nice, quiet, final day on the trip.

Dec 19th: Today! We've arrived in Stellenbosch finally. We immediately went to the hair dresser to get our hair moisturized and trimmed. Those head massages are really worth $2. (South Africa has consistently proved to be very inexpensive with fun services.) We are packing up and heading out for Cape Town tomorrow morning, passing by Tito's original home in Constancia, where they want him back. So sad.

Also, I will be leaving my guitar here. It is a sad day to part with the guitar I learned on, but then again, the truck driver on the overlander stepped on it's back and broke it down the spine. Goodbye. It's been a fun 13 years since we met in 7th or 8th grade. *tear*