Journeying with the siblings!
When I was first in Africa, I wanted to be out of Cape Town and South Africa as soon as I arrived; it was too much like Australia. I wanted the 'real' Africa. But the reason I initially rejected the country was largely what drew me back this time; it seemed like a strange parallel to my home country, only with much greater development difficulties, a different demoraphic, much higher poverty, a corrupt government and on-going racial tension. It was like that homely familiarity of Australia but with a much more complicated and challenging twist behind it and its people. I wanted, and would still like, to understand just what makes the county tick.
In some respects it almost seems to me that Australia represents what South Africa had the potential to be -- or might yet be. But the reasons I say this are extensive and require in-depth conversation far longer than this blog has room for. I'll skip to what we actually did.
After Christmas we flew to Cape Town -- perhaps one of the more beautiful cities of the world. Dramatic cliffs and coastline (like Great Ocean Road), the Table Mountain backdrop (a plateau-like mountain that sits behind the city), surf beaches, boutique to trendy cafes (with decent coffee!), food markets, amazing wine (like Australian wine..), produce and cheeses, an up-market waterfront (someone say 'Docklands'?) and some old-school colonial architechture. Of course, unlike Melbourne, you have a transition of amazing mansions and beautiful houses into... slums.
Everything is framed by barbed or razor wire and as you drive by some make-shift shanty towns complete with rusting corrogated iron, rubbish blowing in the breeze and poor sanitary systems, you simultaneously pity the people who live there and by the same token sincerely hope your car never breaks down in that area. It is these areas that South Africa's shockingly high crime statistics originate from.
We hung-about in the surf-suburb Muizenburg (sadly never went surfing) and during our time in the city climbed Table Mountain (it was admittedly stunning), explored long st once more, drove along Chapmans peak and surrounds etc.
New Years us 'kiddies' ran away from the parents to a somewhat hippy- festival; Rezonance. I'm ashamed to admit it was the first time in my life to go to a music festival too...but better late than never! There was much epic dancing (sensing a theme here...), sibling-bonding and miscellaneous friend making -- perfect way to start the new year! I'll let the photos do some talking.
Unfortunately come insane-o-clock (6am) New Years day, we had to leave as the parents and Clare had a flight back to Melb (Clare only returning for a visit). Leaving my sister, much like the last time I was in Africa, was nothing short of horrible! Despite being in the same country as her for 5 months, being 1000km away still made visits a difficult occurance and already it was time to be continents apart again.
So then there were four: me, James, Gavin and Maria (Gavin's gf). With less in tow, we headed eastwards to Hermanus. I'll just say; beautiful coast, quaint little town, wonderfully refreshing beach-cliff jogs and wine tasting. Incidentally, I've concluded I don't have the stamina for wine tasting, as I gave up near the end on account of almost-falling-asleep and opted for a good-ol' coffee instead. The trip ended nicely with some in-bus-boogie to The Beatles.
Next stop was the start of the garden route: Mossel bay. The town itself didn't grab me as it lacked the charm of Hermanus, but the surrounding beaches and activities were definitely worthwhile.
We sandboarded nearby sanddunes, made some new friends (Sachin and Sid) and skydived. It was my second tandem skydive and though I had vowed to never skydive again until I did my solo course due to the relatively high-cost of tandems, the beach scenery and beautiful day snagged me in once more. And boy there were NO regrets on that. Because it was my second time and I was apparently small-enough, the instructor decided to do something new; jump out of the plane with me backwards and, whilst I tucked up into a ball, do a series of somersaults/flips in the air. Despite the fact my brother was out of the plane a good 20 seconds before me, when they had opened the parachute we were still free-falling fast past them; aparently the speed we plummeted looked insane. Hell, when I saw my brother jump out it looked like he was vacuum-suctioned out.
The first time I ever sky-dived, I thought the experience was wicked. This was even better. The speed, the rush, the flips, the scenery, the gliding with the parachute... absolutely amazing. I swear I have to do my solo-course one day....
Following Mossel Bay, we headed towards Storms River village. We drove along 'The Garden Route through peaceful beach and lagoon scenery, dining in Kynsna harbour along the way.
At stormsriver we took a trip tubing in black waters (black due to natural tanins in the water) which largely consisted of jumping off rocks in deeper sections and floating through rocky shallows in others, sometimes awkwardly due to sections of low water. Of course it was obligatory to pounce on other people in their tube and dunk them in the water.
The forest surrounding the stormsriver and village was absolutely lush and green and later that day I took a stroll through it, feeling strangely like I was but wasn't in Kinglake back home. In fact, in such a small and friendly village it was as though the crime-ridden troubles of SA cities was long-gone, scarcely a barbed wire in site and an altogether reassuring vibe from the people and area. The local-restaurant was perhaps what needed some work; an ostensibly American diner serving anything from sugar-fied sweet-chilli stir-fry to MSG intense vegetables...
Nighttime at Dijembe backpackers was great fun. Intrepid travellers, bongo drums, guitars, bonfires and (you guessed it) dancing! At one stage the owner seemed to appear out of nowhere with his horses and next thing you know there was a troupe of backpackers and horses walking to a bar in the local township under an amazingly starry sky. Following a white horse, under a starry sky to a village bar... only in Africa.
The bar, although obviously simple, had a great feel to it. No sleazy men (and believe me, that's a rarity in bars globally... particularly Africa), no racial tension (not always the case in SA), an absolute mix of people and almost-instantaneous friends. Oh, and dancing, dancing, dancing.
The following day we ventured a trip to Tsitsikama NP where Stormsriver meets the sea and man am I so glad I didn't skip it. Definitely one of the more stunning coastlines I've ever seen with giant crashing waves, beautiful blue skies and a large gorge mouth where the blackriver merged into the blue sea. Something like cataract gorge in Tasmania meets Cape Schanck in Victoria...
We desperately wanted to linger at Stormsriver but figured we needed to get a move on (flights and such... deadlines = bad) so we headed to Jeffereys bay. Realistically we should have just stayed at Stormsriver for longer (oh.. hindsight). Jeffereys bay was really a surfing destination and, as our luck had it, the surf was terrible and near non-existant during our stay. Nonetheless, we did visit a pretty cool swimming/waterfall spot with ziplining (or 'foofing' in Afrikaans) slides into the water and large rock jumps for the brave, go swimming in the sea, jog along the beach and chill.
But this was where our 'Garden route' journey ended, dropping Maria at the airport in Port Elizabeth on the 10th before the next leg northward; Lesotho -- The Mountain Kingdom that has evaded me for too long!