Battered, broken and limping along (both me and the bike), it was a tantalising 700km of decent roads to Cape Town and the end of stage one. If I could make it there then I would have achieved something, and I also had the prospect of a couple of weeks with my folks to relax, do some touristy things, and just maybe have my mum look after me a bit...
From my overnight stopover at the 60s throwback town of Springbok (both food and decor) it was 600km of tarmac to Cape Town. Paranoid that something would go wrong at the last minute, my speed was creeping up and up as I tried to get to the finish line before fate realised that it didn't have much longer to screw me over. This time, luck was on my side and I rolled into Cape Town in one piece, found the apartment mum and dad had booked and pulled into the car park. After 20,000 miles, 18 countries and a tremendous amounting of crashing I had completed Stage 1!
I had even arrived a day early, so spent the evening enjoying some creature comforts - eating chocolate, watching tv and slouching on the sofa. The next day, whilst still lying on the sofa and watching tv, I heard a familiar voice and then in the doorway who should it be but mum and dad! Having not seen them (and not really heard their voices) for six months it was so lovely to meet up again! We spent the evening catching up, and after a couple of hours I was back up to date with all the family news.
Despite being in the same town, the first couple of days we didn't get to spend too much time together - the bike needed some serious TLC. So while mum and dad
headed out to see the penguins and the gardens at Kirstenbosch (mum's number one thing to see and which didn't disappoint apparently), I found a mechanic to fix the most serious problems (though while that was happening I did manage to fit in a trip to Robben Island, taking a tour led by a previous guest of the state).
Once the bike was fixed we did manage to do some things together; we lucked out on a trip to the top of Table Mountain - blue skies, great visibility and (apparently very unusually) no wind. We also saw lots of dassies - like giant hamsters these furballs were sunning themselves all over the rocks at the top of the mountain. Also, we took a trip down to Cape Point and Cape Hope, just so that I could say that I made it down that far.
After finishing up in Cape Town the plan was to make our way along the Garden Route, a famously beautiful stretch of road leading to Port Elizabeth. First stop was Hermanus, and while mum and dad pressed on from there along a scenic stretch of road I went to try my luck at shark diving. Gansbaai is one of the world's top locations for spotting great whites, and me and the other tourists were chatting excitedly amongst ourselves about what we might get to see, right up until the group before us came back and told us they had seen no sharks! This was not part of the plan. Apparently the reason no sharks were seen is because there were two orcas in the bay, and the sharks were running scared. Given that great whites grow up to 7 metres and a couple of tonnes, that tells you a lot about orcas. As it turned out, an article a few days later reported two dead sharks found in the area with their livers removed, with the evidence pointing to orcas as the culprits! We went out anyway, and while we got a very brief glimpse of one shark we didn't get to go down in the cage.
I rendezvoused back with the folks in Swellendam (unsurprisingly I hadn't been able to persuade mum to come shark diving!), and after a night in a rather sumptuous B&B made plans for the next couple of days. First up was a scenic drive along to Outshoorn (which I still can't pronounce despite hearing it multiple times) and then a trip to an Ostrich farm. Surprisingly comprehensive, not only did we learn all about ostrich breeding, and the ways ostrich parts are used, we (and when I say we I mean I) also got to have a ride on one. For those interested, the technique is to sit towards the back of the bird, lock your ankles around the front, grab the wings and hang on for dear life...
Next day it was down to Mossel Bay, ostensibly to fulfill one of mum's holiday aims of eating lunch on the beach. While lunch wasn't quite what mum was looking for we did stumble across the fantastic Dias museum, named after the Portuguese explorer Bartholomeu Dias. The museum had all sorts of information about the history, culture and nature of the local area, but the highlight was the life size replica of the caravel that Dias sailed from Portugal down to South Africa. 23 metres long, 6 metres at its widest point and with a crew of 33, there would not have been a lot of space!
On the way back from Mossel Bay we even had time for a spot of wine tasting, but with dad driving and mum not much of a drinker I ended up knocking back 18 fairly generous tasting glasses. Not that I was complaining...
From Mossel Bay it was on to Knysna, but first it was time for me to have another shot at shark diving. Back to Mossel Bay for me, this time the sea was a bit rougher and given my track record as a bit of a puker I was slightly concerned. I popped one of the sickness pills offered by the diving company and we hit the water, spreading chum as we went. I was feeling ok, but after half an hour of waiting I could feel my stomach getting twitchy. The sharks arrived and the first group went into the cage. The cage is made of steel, and can fit six people standing in a row shoulder to shoulder. It is suspended off the side of the boat, with about a foot sticking out of the water. Divers wait with their heads above the waves, while the crew try and entice the sharks in with a tuna head on a line. Once the shark is interested, the crew pull the tuna head back towards the cage with the shark in pursuit and the divers duck their heads beneath the waves to have a look. Just as the first group was finishing up my stomach decided enough was enough and my breakfast disappeared over the side of the boat. I felt better, and took my place at the cage (though at the end of the cage in case I chundered again and it went in everyone else's face). The shark showed up soon enough and although the water was a little murky we got some great views of a 3m great white swimming past the cage within touching distance. Sadly my stomach only allowed me to have 20 minutes before I had to bail out of the cage and dash over to the other side of the boat to chum the water in my own way again. The rest of the trip was spent grimly holding on to a bar and trying hard to think about anything other than being sick, but as bad as it was I didn't care as I had seen a shark!
I caught up with the folks again in Knysna (in fact we arrived at exactly the same time) and checked into what turned out to be an incredible B&B (Villa Mulligan in case you are looking). The place had a huge balcony overlooking the bay, and after several long days of driving we had a few nights in Knysna just to relax. We spent the time reading, pottering round the town and eating fresh seafood in the sun. Such a hard life.
After three nights we somewhat reluctantly had to leave, and although we only had a couple of days left before mum and dad had to fly home there were still two highlights left in store. One was Addo Elephant Park, and the other turned out to be lunch that day. We stopped in the beach town of Jeffrey's Bay, and following a recommendation in one of the guidebooks stopped to eat at Die Walklipper. Well this was exactly what mum had envisaged when she said she wanted to eat on the beach. Against a background of clear yellow sand and bright sunshine in a blue sky, we had an enormous and delicious seafood platter. Shrimp, langoustines, mussels, calamari and two kinds of fish, we were all absolutely stuffed when we finished. So, so good.
The final item on the Whelan itinerary was Addo Elephant Park, and as its name suggests it is famous for elephants. After spending a night in a B&B just ten minutes from the entrance, we made an early start to give us the best chance of seeing as much as we could. And we were not disappointed. First up we had a game drive with one of the rangers. Within 10 minutes we had come across two lions lounging behind a bush, coolly disinterested in anything we were doing. What a start. From there it was deeper into the park where we saw elephants, zebra, kudu, ostrich, red hartebeest, warthogs and lots of other things. The highlight was when our guide (and something of a jack the lad) parked up close to a huge bull elephant on musthe (i.e. on the hunt for female elephants). Eyeing up our vehicle and seeing it as encroaching on his personal space, he came right up to the truck and stared us out. And when I say right up, I mean right up. He was within touching distance, and then decided to give us a bit of a shove just to show us who was boss. We were sat in the middle row of three; I don't think that the two ladies in the back were breathing for the whole five minutes he was there.
After the game drive we were back at the main visitor centre, and from the viewing platform (and viewing hide) were able to see family after family of elephants arriving at the waterhole. Most entertaining were the baby elephants; ridiculously tiny compared to their parents, and incredibly cute in the way the waddle around, they spent the time messing around with each other while the adults gave themselves a mud bath. We did some driving ourselves in the afternoon where we saw lots more elephants (the park really living up to its name) before heading off to our lodge for the evening. Because we were doing things as we went and hence quite last minute, a lot of the accommodation was booked up and the only one we could find in the park was at Nyathi Lodge. Not knowing what to expect, we bounced along the 8km dirt track that led to the accommodation, and found the most luxurious place we had stayed in. Built on a ridge overlooking a waterhole, we had two huge, round, thatched chalets with panoramic views over the surrounding mountains. Even the bathrooms had floor to ceiling windows so you could sit in the bath and watch animals come and go. As this was the last real night of the holiday (the next night was just a stop close to the airport) it was the perfect ending, and we sat on the balcony with a bottle of wine, listening to the animals and watching the sun go down.
The next morning we headed back into the park, and while the first couple of hours we didn't see much our patience was rewarded when first we saw a family of buffalo grazing by the side of the road, and then came across a gigantic herd of elephants. There must have been over 70 around a large waterhole, clustered in different groups and taking up a huge, huge area. The scale was incredible, and it was fascinating to watch the interactions between the different individuals. Definitely worth the extra visit.
After that excitement it was off to Port Elizabeth, and back to reality (or as real as life gets for two retirees and one unemployed nomad!). I loaded all my gear that had been stowed in the car back on to my bike, and mum and dad packed their suitcases. We had an evening to just stop and reflect on everything we had done in the last couple of weeks, before saying our goodbyes the next morning and heading off. While we were both heading ultimately to the same destination, it was going to take me a lot longer to get there...
From my overnight stopover at the 60s throwback town of Springbok (both food and decor) it was 600km of tarmac to Cape Town. Paranoid that something would go wrong at the last minute, my speed was creeping up and up as I tried to get to the finish line before fate realised that it didn't have much longer to screw me over. This time, luck was on my side and I rolled into Cape Town in one piece, found the apartment mum and dad had booked and pulled into the car park. After 20,000 miles, 18 countries and a tremendous amounting of crashing I had completed Stage 1!
I had even arrived a day early, so spent the evening enjoying some creature comforts - eating chocolate, watching tv and slouching on the sofa. The next day, whilst still lying on the sofa and watching tv, I heard a familiar voice and then in the doorway who should it be but mum and dad! Having not seen them (and not really heard their voices) for six months it was so lovely to meet up again! We spent the evening catching up, and after a couple of hours I was back up to date with all the family news.
Despite being in the same town, the first couple of days we didn't get to spend too much time together - the bike needed some serious TLC. So while mum and dad
headed out to see the penguins and the gardens at Kirstenbosch (mum's number one thing to see and which didn't disappoint apparently), I found a mechanic to fix the most serious problems (though while that was happening I did manage to fit in a trip to Robben Island, taking a tour led by a previous guest of the state).
Once the bike was fixed we did manage to do some things together; we lucked out on a trip to the top of Table Mountain - blue skies, great visibility and (apparently very unusually) no wind. We also saw lots of dassies - like giant hamsters these furballs were sunning themselves all over the rocks at the top of the mountain. Also, we took a trip down to Cape Point and Cape Hope, just so that I could say that I made it down that far.
I rendezvoused back with the folks in Swellendam (unsurprisingly I hadn't been able to persuade mum to come shark diving!), and after a night in a rather sumptuous B&B made plans for the next couple of days. First up was a scenic drive along to Outshoorn (which I still can't pronounce despite hearing it multiple times) and then a trip to an Ostrich farm. Surprisingly comprehensive, not only did we learn all about ostrich breeding, and the ways ostrich parts are used, we (and when I say we I mean I) also got to have a ride on one. For those interested, the technique is to sit towards the back of the bird, lock your ankles around the front, grab the wings and hang on for dear life...
Next day it was down to Mossel Bay, ostensibly to fulfill one of mum's holiday aims of eating lunch on the beach. While lunch wasn't quite what mum was looking for we did stumble across the fantastic Dias museum, named after the Portuguese explorer Bartholomeu Dias. The museum had all sorts of information about the history, culture and nature of the local area, but the highlight was the life size replica of the caravel that Dias sailed from Portugal down to South Africa. 23 metres long, 6 metres at its widest point and with a crew of 33, there would not have been a lot of space!
On the way back from Mossel Bay we even had time for a spot of wine tasting, but with dad driving and mum not much of a drinker I ended up knocking back 18 fairly generous tasting glasses. Not that I was complaining...
From Mossel Bay it was on to Knysna, but first it was time for me to have another shot at shark diving. Back to Mossel Bay for me, this time the sea was a bit rougher and given my track record as a bit of a puker I was slightly concerned. I popped one of the sickness pills offered by the diving company and we hit the water, spreading chum as we went. I was feeling ok, but after half an hour of waiting I could feel my stomach getting twitchy. The sharks arrived and the first group went into the cage. The cage is made of steel, and can fit six people standing in a row shoulder to shoulder. It is suspended off the side of the boat, with about a foot sticking out of the water. Divers wait with their heads above the waves, while the crew try and entice the sharks in with a tuna head on a line. Once the shark is interested, the crew pull the tuna head back towards the cage with the shark in pursuit and the divers duck their heads beneath the waves to have a look. Just as the first group was finishing up my stomach decided enough was enough and my breakfast disappeared over the side of the boat. I felt better, and took my place at the cage (though at the end of the cage in case I chundered again and it went in everyone else's face). The shark showed up soon enough and although the water was a little murky we got some great views of a 3m great white swimming past the cage within touching distance. Sadly my stomach only allowed me to have 20 minutes before I had to bail out of the cage and dash over to the other side of the boat to chum the water in my own way again. The rest of the trip was spent grimly holding on to a bar and trying hard to think about anything other than being sick, but as bad as it was I didn't care as I had seen a shark!
I caught up with the folks again in Knysna (in fact we arrived at exactly the same time) and checked into what turned out to be an incredible B&B (Villa Mulligan in case you are looking). The place had a huge balcony overlooking the bay, and after several long days of driving we had a few nights in Knysna just to relax. We spent the time reading, pottering round the town and eating fresh seafood in the sun. Such a hard life.
After three nights we somewhat reluctantly had to leave, and although we only had a couple of days left before mum and dad had to fly home there were still two highlights left in store. One was Addo Elephant Park, and the other turned out to be lunch that day. We stopped in the beach town of Jeffrey's Bay, and following a recommendation in one of the guidebooks stopped to eat at Die Walklipper. Well this was exactly what mum had envisaged when she said she wanted to eat on the beach. Against a background of clear yellow sand and bright sunshine in a blue sky, we had an enormous and delicious seafood platter. Shrimp, langoustines, mussels, calamari and two kinds of fish, we were all absolutely stuffed when we finished. So, so good.
After the game drive we were back at the main visitor centre, and from the viewing platform (and viewing hide) were able to see family after family of elephants arriving at the waterhole. Most entertaining were the baby elephants; ridiculously tiny compared to their parents, and incredibly cute in the way the waddle around, they spent the time messing around with each other while the adults gave themselves a mud bath. We did some driving ourselves in the afternoon where we saw lots more elephants (the park really living up to its name) before heading off to our lodge for the evening. Because we were doing things as we went and hence quite last minute, a lot of the accommodation was booked up and the only one we could find in the park was at Nyathi Lodge. Not knowing what to expect, we bounced along the 8km dirt track that led to the accommodation, and found the most luxurious place we had stayed in. Built on a ridge overlooking a waterhole, we had two huge, round, thatched chalets with panoramic views over the surrounding mountains. Even the bathrooms had floor to ceiling windows so you could sit in the bath and watch animals come and go. As this was the last real night of the holiday (the next night was just a stop close to the airport) it was the perfect ending, and we sat on the balcony with a bottle of wine, listening to the animals and watching the sun go down.
The next morning we headed back into the park, and while the first couple of hours we didn't see much our patience was rewarded when first we saw a family of buffalo grazing by the side of the road, and then came across a gigantic herd of elephants. There must have been over 70 around a large waterhole, clustered in different groups and taking up a huge, huge area. The scale was incredible, and it was fascinating to watch the interactions between the different individuals. Definitely worth the extra visit.
After that excitement it was off to Port Elizabeth, and back to reality (or as real as life gets for two retirees and one unemployed nomad!). I loaded all my gear that had been stowed in the car back on to my bike, and mum and dad packed their suitcases. We had an evening to just stop and reflect on everything we had done in the last couple of weeks, before saying our goodbyes the next morning and heading off. While we were both heading ultimately to the same destination, it was going to take me a lot longer to get there...
