Tuesday, 3 February 2009

A few drops of rain had fallen during the night but I was snug and dry in the little cave. The ankle that had given me trouble the previous day, was also better after a voltaren tablet that I had taken before bedtime.

I started early and there were no fisherman around. Like the day before, the first ten kilometres or so were easy along a firm, sandy beach. And again, the marine birds entertained me with their antics. Especially the black oyster catchers were very interesting to observe. These birds, until recently endangered, nest high up along the beaches, just at the foot of the first dunes. Their habitat has been disturbed by coastal developments, indiscriminate 4x4 driving and various other human activities over the years. Fortunately, new legislation and growing awareness have helped to save many nesting sites. Oyster catchers are territorial, with many pairs occupying these long beaches, each patrolling their own section of a few hundred metres. As I pass through these territories, I could clearly observe the breeding pairs, and their reaction to my presence. At first, just as I entered their zone, either of the pair, or both, would complain loudly, flying above and over me, then one would normally land ahead of me, while the other would take up position towards the dune, closer to the well camouflaged hollow in the sand, which serve as the nest. It would, however, never give the nest's position away by squatting on it or circling around it, but would run parallel to me, just a few metres ahead. The one nearer to the water, would make sure that I was focussed on following it, rather than the nest guard. In my case, I walk along the shore anyway, so I never pose any threat to them. After a while, as they realise that I am about to exit their territory and enter that of the next pair, the guard by the dune would turn and face back towards my rear, until I have passed its position. Then it would fly back while the one closest to me would make its escape, flying towards my right, and circling back over the shallow waves. And virtually at that same moment, the next pair, whose territory I have now entered, will start the whole procedure over again. It kept me occupied for many hours, watching these beautiful birds and trying to predict, by their actions, when the moment would come that they would let me pass... or hand me over to the next shift, to keep an eye on my intrusion through Oystercatcher Land.

As always, the easy long beach also came to an end and was replaced, like previous times, by rough, rocky areas and dim footpaths through the low, dense coastal vegetation known as fynbos. The going got tough, my feet felt the pressure of sharp rocks, broken shells and thorns. But I knew that I only had about ten kilometres of this to endure before I get would reach Brandfontein and its huge dune field. From there, it would be beachwalking up to Suiderstrand, just eight kilometres from Cape Agulhas, the southern tip of Africa. But for today, I was planning to find a suitable, sandy hollow with, hopefully some protection from the wind, to make camp for the night. It looked like rain again and the wind was quite strong. High above the beach, behind some dense shrubs, I found such a place, where I pitched my bivvy and hit the sack early. I watched the sunset, but my last memory of the day was of a dusk sky, so I must have fallen asleep before it was even completely dark. I was that tired.

Wednesday, 4 February 2009

By the time I awoke, it was hardly light. I watched the sun rise over the dunes to the east and realised that this would be my last sunrise over land, for quite some time. Today, unless something untowards happens, I would reach Agulhas and from here on, the sun would rise over the Indian Ocean. So I gathered up my things and set off, down to the beach. Right at that spot, below the dunes, is a little spring, that cuts a small stream through the sand. The water is good to drink. It is very good to drink. I filled my waterbottles, scooping mugs full out of the shallow rivulet and pouring it into my cans. It was a good start to what turned out to be a blessed day.

I hadn't walked far when I ran out of beack... Well, technically, I guess the beach was still there, but it wasn't sand anymore. Instead, I was walking on a surface made up of loose, egg sized pebbles. Walking on this was extremely uncomfortable, it was rough on the soles and the loose nature of the pebbles meant that I would sink ankle deep into it, thus putting a lot of strain on my ankles and calf muscles. Soon, the pebble size increased to tennis ball proportions... This was worse. To add to this, the slope along the coast here, is quite steep, so I kept gradually sliding down to the water's edge, then forcing my way up again, and so on and so on.

But this, too, would pass and before I knew it, I came upon the most beautifull natural tidal pool, almost a perfect circle. To the sea side, is a rocky reef, breaking the momentum of the waves and on the land side, a crescent beach (of SAND), rounded off this idillic, almost tropical island-like setting. It was just before ten in the morning and I decided to have a break an just take in some more of the beauty of this scene. A group of sand plovers played on the sand, chasing each other, their thin little legs moving so fast that it was just a blur underneath the tiny puffs of feathers.

Eventually, it was time to move on and I covered the short distance to Suiderstrand in a matter of minutes. This little resort village has hardly any permanent residents (at least, that was my impression) and most properties were locked up, no soul in sight. From here it took me just over an hour to Cape Agulhas. After the anti-climax I have experienced at Cape Point, I had decided not to make too much of preset milestones, so when I arrived here, I set up my camera on the cairn of stones in front of the official plaque denoting the southern tip of Africa, took a photo of myself and put my pack back on. However, a few tourists had arrived and started asking me questions about what I was doing. Fifteen minutes later I was on the road again and decided to treat myself to a lunch made up of solid food. The type you actually have to chew before swallowing. For the last few days I have been living on Herbalife shakes, water and cup'o soup. I wasn't hungry, I just missed chewing! So the first restaurant I encountered, was Suidpunt Potpouri, where I ordered a cold coke and a toasted sandwich. As I relaxed on the stoep (patio), I fell into conversation with two locals. What I didn't know, was that the owner of the establishment was just inside the door and heard what I was telling the other patrons. After paying my bill, I stayed on, finishing the last of my coke. Before I could leave, however, the waitress, Saroghe, brought my money back, saying that her employer, Desiree Kleynhans, was giving me the meal on the house! Thank you, so much, Desiree! And for the contribution to the "road-fund". Next time when you visit Agulhas, pop in at Suidpunt Potpouri, the food is great, the service friendly and the shop has millions of lovely memento's and crafts. And the people are WONDERFUL!

Agulhas was not my destination for the day, so I set off again with a satisfied tummy and a new confirmation of the goodness of the people of my country. Struisbaai is not far from Agulhas, in fact, when you travel by road, you hardly notice the divide between these two villages. But along the beachfront, I still had a good eight kilometres of walking to the Struisbaai harbour, where I was to meet Frederik and Nelmarie Neethling, my hosts for the night. I had never met them before but they invited me anyway.

At the harbour cafeteria, I had a number of separate but concurrent conversations with some locals and tourists. It was sometimes hard to give the right answer to the right question to the right person in the right language at the right time, but we managed and they were all very patient with me and each other.

When Nelmarie arrived, we still had to wait for Frederik to return from the sea. They run Awesome Charters, and Frederik had been out at sea all day with some guests, hopeful for something to catch. When we eventually got to their house, Frederik and his crew still had to clean and service the boat, but I was shown to my room immediately and minutes later had a great cup of coffee in my hand.

While we were admiring some merino mutton chops and boerewors on the braai, we found out that my late dad had taught Nelmarie history from grade 8-10, at Uniondale, while I was only in grade 1&2. So we had a good long chat about the old days in Uniondale, and all the old characters that we could still remember.

All too soon it was time for bed and the end of a really memorable day here at the south end of my continent.

Thursday, 5 February 2009

The weather forecast told Frederik that they would not be going out to sea for at least three days. That same forecast told me that I would be walking almost straight into a 55km/h south-easterly. So I was eager to get going early, before the wind picked up. However, at the harbour, after another oversized breakfast, we ran into Dr Riaan Smit, the local physician. He was not going to let me go easily, asking me a string of questions about my knee, general health and water consumption. Then we just had to go to his surgery so that he could introduce me to his staff and patients! Eventually, after making me promise to increase my water intake to at least four litres per day, he released me and Nelmarie rushed me back to the harbour.

Today was going to be mostly beach walking, with the exception of the last five kilometres or so, to Waenhuiskrans (aka Arniston). The sand stretched out ahead of me around the wide bay, as far as I could see. I had a few things to look out for...Firstly, the wreck of the Maggie, a wool carrier that had ran aground near the Heuningnes river mouth, but which was rarely visible, unless the wind had uncovered it. I missed that one, it would take a few days to blow away enough sand to reveal the buried wreck. What I couldn't miss, was the river mouth. It was fourteen kilometres from Struisbaai and I covered the distance in just over two hours, not bad going at all! But the sand was firm, the tide was low and the wind had held off almost all of the way... so far. The tide was coming in fast now and although I could still wade through the river mouth, I had to carry my pack on my head. As if on que, the wind gusted into action just as I emerged from the water. I got an instant sandblasting and the fine sand clung to my wet shorts and body. It wasn't very funny. Here, at the bend in the bay, I turned straight into the howling, sandswirling wind. All I could do was to put my head down and slog through it.

I was making slow but steady progress and calculated that I would have just enough time for a visit to the world famous cave and get to a sheltered spot from where I could conduct my weekly 17h15 telephonic interwiew with Johan Els of Radiopulpit. As I reached the parking area on the Arniston side of the cave, a guy got out of his bakkie and approached me. It was Deon Meyer, another name whose face I had never seen before. Deon is a scientist who works at the OTB missile testing range, just beyond Arniston. Due to the nature of their work, the testing range is a highly restricted area and beyond my wildest dreams, friends and friends of friends have jumped in to help, leading to not only permission, but a really enthusiastic support from OTB management. A special thanks to Abrie, Willem, Deon, Judith and Elisna for their help.

Deon was to be my escort through the OTB property the next day and he had suggested that I spend the night with him and his family in Bredasdorp, near Arniston. We still had time to get to his home before my radio interview, so we departed immediately. In Bredasdorp, I just sat down with a cup of coffee when Johan Els phoned for the interwiew. These interviews are always uplifting and strengthen my faith even more. Everytime after the conclusion of this interview, as always before, the calls and text messages started streaming in, from listeners who phoned to give me support. It is amazing how much goodwill is being passed on to me.

At dinner, Deon's wife, Sonja, who teaches at the local high school, asked if I would be willing to do a short presentation to the school's teaching staff and pupils in the morning. Before I could really think about it, I said yes, so there I was, just gotten myself into my first job as motivational speaker! OUCH!

Friday, 6 February 2009

At 7h30, we were at the school, teachers giving me curious looks. Can't say I blame them, with me walking into the staff room of a very respectable school, with no shoes on! But Sonja had spoken to the principal and once he had announced and introduced me, everyone relaxed and started showing interest. It went very well and even though I didn't speak long, I could sense that some of what I said, had sunk in, at least.

And then we were off again to Arniston. Deon and I had hardly arrived, when the OTB contingent arrived to see us off and wish us well. Abrie just wanted to see what my feet looked like, Willem wanted to see that we get off safely, Elisna wanted to take photo's for the OTB Newsletter and Judith really wished she could join the walk. But eventually Deon and I managed to tear ourselves away and got started. The coastline from here to the Breede river mouth is spectacular with flat-topped limestone cliffs jutting out into the sea, interspersed with long stretches of flat sandy beaches. The limestone reacts chimically with water and this creates the most intricate and amazing formations.

Apart from the scenery, the day was extra special, because Deon and I hit it off from the start, both being passionate hikers, nature lovers and fathers who share the same dreams for our kids (and concerns about their future). He had served on the SANAE base in Antarctica when he was younger, had taught at Paarl Boys' High while I was at school in Paarl Gymnasium (for those who don't know, these two schools have a relationship that can be compared to that between George W Bush and Osama Bin Laden). But we were being quite mature about the whole rivalry thing, I must add. As we chatted, we were tking in the scenery, breathing in the salt air and bowing our heads into the wind... wind is always present at the coast. Time flew and before we realised it, we had reached the historic village of Skipskop, now a ghost town. In the 80's it was the subject of a "forced removal" of the fisher folk who had lived there and is still today, mentioned along with District Six. Anyway, let us not get into politics.

One of the conditions of my access grant, was that we would not overnight on OTB land, so we pushed on until we reached the fence. From here, it was Western Cape Nature Conservation property, the very popular De Hoop Nature Reserve. We camped right on the boundry and had to make do with instant soup, cooked on my little gas primus. And then it started raining lightly too. We both crawled into our sleeping bags and covered ourselves with my canvas sheet. It was a relatively uncomfortable night and I remember waking up, lying on my left side, to find that Deon was on his right side. Our faces were literally two centimetres apart. So here we were, two hardcore, adventurous, macho hikers... too close for comfort! So I turned around quietly and fell asleep. However, we are both big boys and at our age, quite secure about our manhood, so that, when I told him in the morning, we had a good chuckle about it.

Saturday, 7 February 2009

Dawn was gray and cool, low tide, no wind and absolutely perfect hiking conditions. After the night we had, we were eager to get started so without wasting time, we got started. Our target was Koppie-Alleen in De Hoop. Judith would drive Deon's bakkie there, from where they would return to Bredasdorp. Deon's wife, Sonja and their kids, Jana and Marno, were in Caledon at their annual Interschools Athletics meeting, so Judith had volunteered to do the shuttling. That would also give her the chance to walk towards us and meet us along the way. She is also a very keen hiker and getting the opportunity to walk in such a beautiful area, she would not pass up on it. We met her after an hour's walk and just more than an hour later, we were at Koppie-Alleen.

At this stage, I had been offered accommodation by the Tourism wing of De Hoop, but final permission to hike through the reserve, had to come from the Chief Park Warden. He was off duty and we had been unable to reach him. In other words, I was in the reserve illegally, and I have even entered the area through an illegal route. I needed someone's permission to be here and I needed it soon. The only contact person I had in the park, was Sonja Chadwick, head of the Tourism department. She was also off duty for the weekend but kindly volunteered to help. In the meantime, she referred me to her second-in-charge, Sebastian, whom she had already briefed on my situation. Deon suggested we go to De Hoop's main camp at Die Opstal, where Sebastian would receive us.

After meeting Sebastian, Deon and the ladies said their farewells and headed back to Bredasdorp. Yet again, I had made friends that I had to say goodbye to after such a very short time together. It was sad, but I have a feeling that Deon and his family would see me again in the future. Thank you! Thank you!

Sebastian wasted no time. Within minutes, I was in a quaint bungalow overlooking a beautiful lake, with an open-air shower to match! After freshening up, I headed back to the main compound for lunch (on the house!) The staff here, are all great, real people. Not the impersonal, polished little clones we so often find in the tourism trade (no offence!). George, Tony, Aalwyn, Alicia and Fazlin all chatted and treated me like a VIP! A special word of thanks to all of you at Die Opstal! Sonja, you have an assistant and staff of note. Hou so aan!

Sunday, 8 February 2009

In the meantime, Sebastian had contacted the Conservation second-in-charge, Andre, who was standing in for the Chief Warden over the weekend. Andre understood my problem and was more than willing to assist me. After taking me to see an ex-colleague of mine, Thulani Silence Ndlovu, who now works there as a ranger, he took me back to the trail and advised me of the best way to get to Infanta, my destination for Sunday night. Actually, I was hoping to reach Witsand, only one kilometre beyond Infanta, but between these two villages, was the mouth of the Breede river. And the nearest crossing was an oldfashioned pont, still in daily use and excellent condition, but thirty kilometres upstream!

The walk to Infanta was long and hard, with rough, dusty gravel roads and a hot sun beating down on me. It was not my most enjoyable day and when I eventually reached the village, I found that there were hardly any people around, late on a Sunday afternoon. And even fewer boat owners. All I could do was to walk upstream along the bank until I could find a boat. The prospect of swimming a kilometre wide river mouth in an outgoing tide, was not one I enjoyed. I am a hiker, not really a noted swimmer. To top it all, just more than a week earlier, researchers had found a four metre long Zambezi shark five kilometres upstream in this very same river. A Zambezi shark is known in other parts of the world as the bull shark. One of the most notorious man eaters ever. They are also well known for their ability to survive in fresh water, hence the behaviour of swimming up river mouths! I wasn't going to swim across a river mouth just to end up in a shark mouth! No way!

So I just walked on. Eventually, I saw life at one of the riverfront homes. But they were clearly packing up after the weekend, their boat already on its trailer. However, Neil knew that his neighbour, Eben is a permanent resident. Also, we could see that Eben's boat was still in the water. Neil phoned Eben. Eben said I must come up to their place and when they go to fetch their boat, they will first ferry me across. Prayers were answered yet again! At that stage I was all in and needed some good news. Thank you Neil, Eben Sr, Eben Jr and their wives! Eben Jr first had to paddle his canoe out to the boat, straight into the wind that had now swung west. It seems that wherever you go, when you were most influenced by wind, it would blow against you. Or are we just more focussed on the negative, and don't take notice of all those times when the winds are in our favour?

The boatride itself was a piece of cake for these experienced rivermen and within minutes I was chauferred into the tiny harbour at the hotel on the Witsand side of the river. Suddenly I had energy again, so I decided to use the remaining few hours of daylight to walk as far as I could get. In Witsand, I found a payphone. My cellphone's battery was almost flat. I had no small change. So I sent Yzelle a text message with the number of the payphone. A few seconds later the phone rang, I could hear her voice and have a conversation with her for the first time in days. It was so good to speak to her! From here on it would be at least two days to Stilbaai where my mom lives, with no power to charge my phone inbetween.

I walked on, determined to get at least as far as the camp that Philip and I used on our hike along this piece of the coast in December 2008 (see photo gallery - Witsand to Stilbaai). My camera had konked out on me on the night that Deon and I camped at De Hoop, so I have no new photo's since then. And with my phone being flat, I couldn't use its camera either.

Well, eventually, just after 19h00, I found our old campsite and had a quick meal of instant soup and Herbalife shake. Then I passed out and slept right through to Monday morning.

Monday, 9 February 2009

Now, with Stilbaai almost in my sights, I was eager to make some good distance. Yesterday's hard slog at least gave me thirty-one kilometres. To make Stilbaai by Tuesday night, I had to do more than thirty per day for the next two days again. I knew the route and the terrain from the previous hike. There are good pieces of hiker-friendly beaches, but Tuesday would be a test.

On Sunday night a gentleman on the beach had told me of two other guys walking from Cape Point to Kosi bay, whom he had met here earlier on Sunday. This was the second time I had heard the rumor of other hikers. In Gansbaai I was told they were a week ahead of me. I was getting curious. As I went up the dune path to Moodie se Put, I noticed shoe prints but thought it was fishermen. Later, these tracks seemed to follow my route, and ignored the popular fishing spots. I started to suspect that they might belong to these mysterious two hikers. I was right. As I walked up to Puntjie, after swimming the Duivenhoks river and ripping my waterproof survival bag, two ladies, Rika and Rina, confirmed that these two gentlemen had passed there just earlier the same morning. Now, only hours separated us and I became determined to meet them before Stilbaai. In Stilbaai, I plan to take some time out with my mom, brother Philip and Yzelle. It will be months before I see any of them again.

The rest of Monday went by without incident and by early evening I made camp on a wooden deck above the beach, thirt-four kilometres from where I had started in the morning. It was far enough for one day.

Tuesday, 10 February 2009

It was barely light when I started packing up, my body stiff and sore, from a hard walk the day before, but also from sleeping on a hard wooden surface. It was cool and the tide was low. I only had three kilometres of beach left to Blombos. From there... well, I was nervous about the following ten kilometres. When I had walked this route in December with my son, we had had a rough time along this piece of rocky coast. Forewarned is fore-armed, yes, but anticipation can also mess with yor mind and to be honest, I was not looking forward to this day's leg of the walk. However, it serves no purpose worrying about it and as I have said before, if I ever thought this adventure would be easy, it would not be worth doing. So I braced myself and set off.

And then just as I rounded Odendaalspunt, I saw them. The two other hikers. They were packing up their camp and didn't see me approach until I greeted them from a few yards away. I must have been an unexpected sight because they seemed a bit puzzled at my appearance. But after making the introductions, they recognised me from an article in the Cape Times that they had seen earlier. They were obviously great guys and the type of characters that I like associating with. It seemed the most natural thing to join up for the day's walk, so I waited for them to pack up.

Chummy and Alan had started off from Cape Point on exactly the same day that I had left the Castle. More about their background can be found on their website, www.cape2kosi.com so I won't go in too deep about that.

But having two great guys to share this tough leg with, gave me a better feeling abouth the day ahead. Our first two kilometres took us two hours, scrambling along unstable sandstone cliffs, climbing up, over and under rocks... all in all, not the easiest of times. But with the added cameraderie, we made it through the worst and reached Jongensfontein in just over seven hours (fifteen kilometres). At the Drie Pikkewyne Supermarket (Three Penguins), we bought the cold cokes and chocolates that we had fantasized about while we walked. On top of this, we discovered SOFT SERVES! WITH FLAKES! We must have looked like three little boys at the carnival, the way we tucked into those ice cream cones.

It was almost 15h00 when we started our last stretch of the day to Stilbaai. The route was clear and not technical at all, but we only reached my mom's house in town, at 19h15. My phone was completely dead by now and she was only expecting me. And only the next day. Imagine the surprise (or shock) when three grizzly, tanned faces peered over her garden wall and asked for a place to sleep. But Ma was up for anything, as always. She quickly whipped updinner for us, while we took turns in the shower. There wasn't enough beds for everyone, but nobody complained. Sleeping on the ground was par for the course and after a shower and a good meal, with a real roof over your head, nobody was in any mood to complain.

Wednesday, 11 February 2009

My brother and I took Chummy and Alan to town for some supplies and then dropped them off again at the start of their day's hike. We said our goodbyes with the knowledge that we might well meet up again soon. Their daily target was set at twenty kilometres per day and mine at thirty. So even with my five days of rest, if all went according to plan, I should catch up again and I am so looking forward to that day! U GO, GUYS!!!

Thursday, 12 February 2009

Yzelle arrived from Cape Town by 10h00. We had a lovely relaxing day and I got my feet and calves well and truly massaged. Ma has a scale. I tested it. It told me seventy-three kilograms. My weight before leaving Cape Town was eighty-two. It doesn't take an Einstein to calculate the nine kilo weight loss in three weeks. Yzelle was not happy when she found out that I had been taking my Herbalife in half portions. It wasn't intentional, I just got the measurements wrong. What can I say, I'm just a guy! We sort of get lost with things like that. But now I know, TWO scoops at a time! And as a SUPPLEMENT, not a meal replacement, coz I need to maintain my weightn not lose it. Chummy had lost eight kilo's, Alan seven. But we were all FEELING fit!

Friday, 13 February 2009

It was time for my brother, Philip, to return to Cape Town. His girlfriend, Shana would be arriving back from overseas soon. They too, don't see each other regularly, he being a paramedic in Guinnee and she working for Qatar Airways! We sad good bye but he left me his GPS. Now THAT would make life easier, when it comes to adding up the distances covered during the day. No more measuring on a map and then converting according to the scale. DANKIE BOET, GENIET DIE VAKANSIE MET SHANA IN MALAWIE!

Saturday, 14 February 2009

Yzelle and I had Valantine's Day together. Neither of us is into the whole Valentine hooha, but we did buy each other a card, only to find that we had both chosen the exact same one!

Sunday, 15 February 2009

The local minister at Ma's congregation was very enthusiastic when he heard that I would like to share my story with the congregation. It fitted in perfectly with the sermon that he had started preparing a week earlier already. We both agreed that it was God's will that we had met. Dominee Jan Heenop saw no problem with me coming into the church barefoot and after sharing my story in both services, I was astounded by the support of the people of Stilbaai. We even had visitors at Ma's house in the afternoon. To Jan and the people of Stilbaai, a heartfelt THANK YOU SO MUCH! I will be leaving tomorrow morning but the experience I had here, will stay with me forever.

So, tomorrow morning I say good bye to Yzelle and Ma. I will not see either of them for quite a few months, at least. But I love you both, always.

Monday, 2 February 2009

After a way too big breakfast by Maryann, Yzelle and I returned to Pearly Beach where I was to start a new week's walk. Before I set off, some pictures had to be taken of my new Herbalife t-shirt. Yzelle had registered as a Herbalife distributor in order to bring in some funds, seeing as the big corporate companies were not exactly banging down the door to sponsor my walk. I am using various Herbalife products, sponsored by Hansie and Anita Louw, to supplement my diet and prevent me from melting away completely (Thank you, Hansie and Anita!). This range of health products are suitable for just about everybody, whether you want to lose weight, build mass, maintain a good healthy lifestyle or just to have the neccessary energy to cope with a hectic schedule. Any Herbalife orders placed with Yzelle, will help to fund this walk.

With the photo session done, we said our good byes and I tackled the walk with new determination. It is wonderful what a weekend's rest can do. From pearly Beach, the beach stretches eastwards for kilometres, where I could just enjoy my surrounds without having to concentrate on where I was treading. Cape cormorants, white breasted cormorants, hartlaub's gulls, kelp gulls, various species of terns and black oyster catchers were plentiful and I only missed the whales, which had already started their migration southward a few weeks ago. The first half of the day was very easy and I did about sixteen kilometres before stopping for lunch at a mysteriously deserted and dilapidated holiday resort. The buildings seemed to be of relatively modern design but the windows and doors were broken (some altogether missing), the lawns unkempt and rubbish blowing in the wind. It was almost spooky. And then, to top it all, a neat young man in a formal suit and tie (minus the jacket) walked down the road, past the complex and on towards the tidal swimming pool. He barely turned to greet me before disappearing around the bend. I had not heard a vehicle approaching, I did not see any signs of a house anywhere around and I never saw him return. But at least I know he was real, because he had left clear footprints. I do not believe in goasts but I know goasts do not leave tracks. OK, maybe that sounds contradictory. Anyway, I know he was just a normal man. But what he was doing there will remain a mystery to me and it was time for me to move on, so I packed up and made some tracks of my own.

Within a few hundred metres, the flat beach disappeared as suddenly as my enigmatic visitor and was replaced by rough, rocky terrain which slowed me down considerably. Not much later, I reached the first houses of the Buffeljags fishing village. Because the dim footpath lead through the fence and across the yard of the first home, I approached the owner to ask permission to enter his property. My parents did teach me some manners, at least. He was more than accommodating, smiling and telling me that he had seen me in Gansbaai a few days earlier. His huge black dog og dudious parentage, however, took it upon himself to defend his territory against this intruder and very nearly got a piece of shin (mine!) for lunch. To anyone watching from a distance, my high steps and staff-swinging moves might have looked like a strange pagan dance. I could already see the movie, Kevin Kostner playing me, "Dances with Dogs".

After Buffeljags, I left the gravel road and followed a short footpath to the beack. Another beautifully deserted, unspoilt, wide stretch of firm sand, all the way to Quinn Point lighthouse. As I reached the beach, I saw my first poacher! Around this part of the world, poachers are after only one thing... ABILONE! In recent times, this once abundent shellfish has become all the rave in Oriental restaurants and is in such demand that it sells for up to ZAR 1000,00 per kilogram on the black market. With a relatively high unemployment rate in this part of the Western Cape, poaching has become a way of life for many. And with up to ZAR 200,00 per kilogram being paid to the diver himself, I guess we who have food on the table cannot blame them. But abilone has become threatened! Locally, abilone is known as "perlemoen" and poachers as "perlies". Just about everyone knows who the perlies are, but the police cannot do anything to them unless they catch them with the abilone actually on their person, making law enforcement very difficult. I have lived around here long enough to know that these poacher will not hesitate to even shoot if they feel threatened and the best way to stay safe, is just to pretend not to have seen them. So I walked past without a glance in his direction. I was here to walk and spread the Gospel, not to play vigilante.

The going got tough from the lighthouse, where I had to make my way through a densely overgrown dune field, just to reach the coastline again. At high tide, these last seven kilometres to Die Dam (The Dam) where I was to spend the night, was an agonizing crawl over rocks and boulders, between the sea and steeply sloping dunes. To add to my frustration, What seemed like one bay, with the houses of Die Dam just a few hundred metres away, turned out to be a series of small bays. Everytime I got to what I thought must now surely be "the point", there was another "point" up ahead. And so on, and so on, until I finally reached the little cluster of holiday homes. I knew of a small hidden cave above the coast, so I slithered into its shelter moments before the sun disappeared over the horizon, tired and glad to be able to take off my pack.

Day 9 - 23 January 2009

Early on Friday morning, Nikki and Nickey dropped me off at Steenbras river again. From here, it was only 17 kilometres to Rooiels, where I was planning to spend the night, so I decided to take it easy on the tar along Clarence Drive. This is a most scenic pass down the eastern side of False Bay, winding its way along the coast, sometimes almost at sea level, and elsewhere high up, overlooking all of this beautiful bay that has caused ancient seafarers so much trouble. Even in more recent years, this stretch of coastline has seen its share of tragedies. The crosses, plaques and small monuments, erected in memory of fishermen who have been washed off the rocks, others drowned while swimming or diving, or cars that have crashed through the barriers and tumbled down into the sea.

However, on this beautiful morning, I was able to rejoice in the pure beauty of the view around me. On my left, the mountains rose up steeply from the roadside. To my right, it was al sea, I could see the whole of the Cape Peninsula, where I had walked just a few days before.

All of a sudden, I saw movement in the water below me, it was a seal, slamming an octopus on the surface, to tear smaller, chewable chunks off the big meal it has caught. While I was standing, staring at this little, very special spectacle, another, bigger splash caught my eye. It was a humpback whale! One of the last left along the coast for the current season. Most of its fellow migrants have already left for the freezing waters of Antarctica.

It was starting to get hot again and so I decided to increase my speed to avoid spending too much time on boiling tar. I have had more than enough of hot tar surfaces. In fact, I have become quite the expert on tar! If you think I exaggerate, please forgive me, but I believe that I can gauge the temperature of the tar to within two degrees centigrade... Just by the smell!

Just before the road started its descent to Rooiels, I was surprised by Tania, an old friend and ex colleague, almost running me down in an attempt to stop her car next to me! I waited at the next viewpoint while she found a turning spot. We didn't have a lot of time to catch up on news, because she was already almost late for her flight to Johannesburg, but she didn't leave before making sure that I accepted her invitation to stay over with her and her mother in Kleinmond, when I get there. The last kilometre to Rooiels was downhill and I made it in good time.

What do you get when twin brothers from Sea Point become chefs, join a rock band, and then start a restaurant in Rooiels? You get... Something Els! Really, that is the name of their restaurant. Zee and Adrian van Zyl were to be my hosts for the evening and put me up in a very comfortable flatlet above the restaurant and invited me to dinner... ON THE HOUSE! While browsing through their very innovative menu, Zee introduced me to one of their local regulars, an Austrian gentleman by the name of Adolf, who has been living in South Africa for thirty six years. Even though Adolf joked about my brainless scheme, he did it with genuine humor and I could take no offence. He later even insisted on paying for my meal and gave me a "small donation towards the roadfund". Thank you Adolf!
Back to the menu: As I was now on the adventure of a lifetime, it was just fitting to be adventurous in my choice of main course, so I went for CROCODILE AND PRAWNS IN A THAI CURRY! And, Boy, I was not disappointed! I won't try to discribe it, but when next you are near Rooiels, pop in and try it! Zee and Adrian are genuine guys who take their food (and their patrons) seriously. Adrian even gave me a loaf of his home baked bread to take along the next morning!

Day 10 - 24 January 2009

I had hardly started walking on Saturday morning, when I took the wrong turnoff and would have ended up back in front of Something Els, had a lady called Sandra not asked why I was going that way. She had recognised me from the papers and realised that the road I was walking on, would soon make a U-turn, so she suggested that I walk with her, as she was going in the right direction. We started chatting and she told me she was hunting rockjumpers, a special species of bird that is very sought after amongst birdwatchers, and which tend to frequent a certain area just outside the village. Just a few hundred metres on, we met up with some other birders who had just found a rockjumper. But Sandra first wanted to take some photos of me.
So after saying our goodbyes, I was off on my own again, on this very rough gravel track, towards Pringle Bay. It was only eight kilometres from Rooiels to Pringle Bay, but the gravel was killing my tender feet, so that this short distance, that would normally take me no more than two hours, ended up in a five and a half hour crawl-swear-limp-swear-stumble-swear-hop-swear-sitdown-swear epic!
On the beach in Pringle Bay, I received a call from Albert, a reporter from the Sunday Times. I had met him on the beach in Kommetjie a few days earlier and he was interested in my story. Albert told me that he had picked up a photographer and was en route to catch me for an exclusive in the Sunday Times Leisure Section, for the 8th of February edition. I took that as a sign to stop and rest right there on the beach! An hour later he arrived and with a small shock of recognition, I realised that his photographer, Ruwan, was the same guy who photographed me for the Sunday Times in St George's Hospital, Port Elizabeth, in March 2000, just after the Stormsriver accident! He recognized me too and the photo shoot that followed turned into an hour long back-and-forth, this-way-and-that-way, just-one-more-shot, and-another-last-one, oh-no-I-spoiled-that-one, have-to-do-it-again, fun afternoon on the beach with lots of people casting curious glances at us.
By the time the interview was over, it was nearly time for Yzelle to arrive, so I phoned her to say I will be waiting right there at Pringle Bay. Tomorrow is my first rest day since the start of the walk and we were going to spend a short weekend camping at Palmiet near Kleinmond. Soon Yzelle and I would not be able to see each other at all, so we have decided to spend as much of my off time, together, as possible.

Day 12 - 26 January 2009

Yzelle dropped me off at Pringle bay again on Monday morning. She headed back to Cape town and I set off towards Kleinmond, via Bettys Bay. It was cool and after a day of rest, my feet were feeling much better, so the gravelroad past the Hangklip Hotel, was not much of an obstacle. What did stop me in my tracks, however, was a boom gate a few kilometres on. The sign read Seafarm Nature Reserve - Private property - No Entry! Well, what now? I have learnt that the best thing to do in a case like this, is to sit down, have a drink of water and PRAY! I was tempted to trespass. I did not want to tresspass. Actually, I wanted to tresspass, but I didn't want to get caught. As it turned out, I wouldn't need to tresspass. The next moment, a bakkie stopped next to me and a guy in uniform got out to open the gate. I approached him and introduced myself. He was Frank Douglass (with two esses) and Frank was the warden in charge. And Frank liked what I was doing. And so, after a long chat, he left to go and do his conservation work and I had permission to pass without having to trespass!

The gravel soon ended where the well known Hangklip dunes had started claiming back their territory, so I had a short walk through a natural dune field, down to the beach towards Stony Point. Here I had another one of those surprising, very inspiring meetings, with complete strangers. This time, A German couple who had been staying in South Africa for six months and were due to return to their home country at the end of February. Martin was so impressed with our people here in SA, and everyone's hospitality and friendliness, that he wanted to thank everyone by contributing something small towards my effort. All they had with them at the time, were three bananas, a packet of multivitamins and a tube of foot ointment. But that made my day! The bananas were most welcome for I had not eaten breakfast, but as so many times before, it was the gesture of goodwill and generosity that touched me most. I am trying to get photographs of these people who contribute to my daily wellbeing, but every time, I am so overwhelmed, that, by the time I remember, they have gone on their way and were out of sight!

The rest of my day went well, with cool, overcast weather, the beach sand and smooth road surfaces, making the going easy. At just before six in the evening, I was walking down the main street of Kleinmond, when a small bakkie stopped across the road and a gentleman ran towards me with a bottle of juice. With a handshake and a "Keep walking, Son, we are praying for you!", he ran back to his bakkie and went off. I was, once again, humbled and rejuvinated! It was only another two blocks to the Vet's surgery where my friend Tania worked.

Day 13 - 27 January 2009

After a good night's rest, feet treated with Arnica Ice, Tania dropped me off where I finished the day before. Again, like yesterday, the weather was overcast and cool, with the prospect of a very long beach walk, which suited me just perfectly! The best thing was the texture of the sand at Kleinmond, it was firm enough to walk comfortably, but soft enough to cushion the impact of my slowly healing feet. Barefoot hiker's paradise! It was quiet along this stretch of coastline and I progressed well. Tania had told me about the enigmatic wild marsh horses of Kleinmond and I dearly wanted to catch a glimpse of them on the way.

About seven kilometres down the beach, I met a gentleman, Sarel, returning from his morning walk. As usual, he was carrying two large rubbish bags, picking up litter along the way. I was really impressed and thankful for individuals like Sarel, who still cared about our environment. He didn't throw the rubbish on the beach, he didn't need to clean up other people's mess, he wasn't getting paid to do it. No, he just liked a clean beach and took it on himself to get his hands dirty and do what he believed was neccessary. To Sarel, and all those peolple like him, a big HATS OFF! Thank you, Oom Sarel!

But Oom Sarel had more in store for me. He knew where the wild horses were. In fact, he had just passed their grazing area and had spotted nine of them. With his directions, I sped up to still catch them there. As I went through the gap between the dunes he indicated, I saw them! Four, standing knee deep in the water of the marsh. Careful not to frighten them, I slowly moved closer. They seemed completely at ease, looking up every now and again, but not showing any sign of alarm. I started taking photo's as I approached, not wanting risk getting nothing, if they did run off unexpectedly. But to my surprise, I managed to get to within twenty metres from them, counting thirteen horses in total, including a young foal of less than a year old. My day had been made and I was extatic.

One concern remained, however. The lagune at Meer-en-See was an unknown factor. I have been warned that the mouth was open and could be flowing wide, deep and strong. It was then that I remembered Shafieq, my new plumber friend from Strandfontein. And I had his number. So, on the phone to the plumber to solve my water problem. As it turns out, Shafieq had just spent the weekend at his house there and, as it befits any good fisherman, he had been down on the beach most of the weekend. He assured me that the mouth was shallow, narrow and not flowing too strong. It was a relief, because I am a hiker, but not much of a swimmer! Arriving at the edge, I put my pack down and waded through just to make sure. The sand was saturated with water and had the consistancy of quicksand. Returning for my pack, I started the fifty metre crossing with confidence. However, with the added weight of the backpack, I just sank right down into the sand. In places, the water was only ankle deep, but I plunged so deep into the sand, that my shorts got soaked! Fortunately, where the water was deeper, the sand was more sturdy and within fifteen minutes, I was out on the opposite bank, with a dry backpack and only slightly out of breath.

The last stretch of beach to Hawston went quickly. I met only one person there, Tyronne, who was taking out sand clams in the receding tide. He warned me not to take the coastal paths to Onrus, because that is where the Tik-junkies hang out and they had dogs that they set on anyone who passes by. So I followed him through the streets of Hawston to the main road to Hermanus.

It was rush hour in Hermanus and I was happy to, for once, be able to walk faster than the cars were driving. Looking at the frustrated, angry faces of the commutors, I was very glad to be on foot. By 18h15 I reached the Old Harbour in central Hermanus, my objective for the day. As agreed, Tania arrived shortly after that and we got pizza for dinner before driving back to Kleinmond where I spent the second night with her and her mom. Thanks Ladies!

Day 14 - 28 January 2009

By 9h00 Tania had me back at the Old Harbour and I was off on the Cliff Path past the front of Hermanus towards Voelklip beach, where my friend Brummer met me to accompany me all the way to De Kelders. Brummer is also a keen and experienced hiker. Like me, he prefers hiking in wild places in stead of along formal hiking trails. We chatted up a storm and before we realised, it was lunchtime and Brummer showed me the quaint little cave dwelling, in a single, freestanding rock in the middle of the beach at Sopiesklip, that was inhabited by a recluse many years ago.

The rest of the way to De Plaat at De Kelders, flew by and by 16h30, we reached the parking area of Walker Bay Nature Reserve, where Brummer was picked up by our other friend, Nzuzo, and taken back to fetch his car in Hermanus. The last stretch to my son, Duncan's flat, was just two kilometres. Along the way, I met another old friend, Sharlene, and she treated me to two slices of cake ... It was her birthday!

Dinner was at the Buitesteen Pub, with Duncan, and a bunch of friends from Gansbaai (Yzelle and I lived in De Kelders before the move to Cape Town). Present were Duncan, Brummer, Susan (who donated my backpack), Mark, Rudolph, Belinda, Florentina, Stephanie, Bennie, William and Wesley. Thank you for being there, all of you!

Day 15 - 29 January 2009

I had a meeting with Francois and Hardus at the Gansbaai Herald, so I set off into town. But, being seen as a local, I got stopped every few metres by residents who wanted to chat and encourage me. The interview with the newspapermen went very well (Francois was the first to publish an article about my walk, in November 2008 already). But getting through Gansbaai took me almost five hours! And I still had to walk to Danger Point Lighthouse and back to Kleinbaai. On the way I met another ex colleague, Phindile, who had taken clients on a tour to the lighthouse. He was so happy to see me that he stopped his vehicle right in the middle of the road to greet me. Fortunately it was a quiet road.

At 17h15, I had another telephonic interview with Johan Els of Radio Pulpit. It was a very emotional experience and, like the week before, the interview was followed by a flood of phonecalls and text messages from listeners, wishing me well and quoting bible texts in support.

I was in Kleinbaai and did not have to walk any further for the day. Uncle Thomas fetched me there and took me to their place, where I spent a wonderful evening with him and his dear wife, Mary-Ann.

Day16 - 30 January 2009

It was Friday, and I have decided to take the weekend off. The plan, from the start, was to take each Sunday off, but I had walked through my first Sunday, at Cape Point. My feet were getting better by the day and a weekend of rest would do them good. Yzelle was coming through again for the weekend and she was going to meet me in Pearly Beach in the afternoon.

I was psyched up for the day's walk and set off at a fast pace. Today I was going to break through the 300 kilometre mark and I was in a great mood. Two years prior, I had walked from Agulhas to Gansbaai, so I was familiar with this stretch of coastline. It was a sandy beach almost all the way to Pearly Beach, with just a short distance of pebbles and rocks. By 15h00 I was in Pearly Beach and feeling great. I think the prospect of a bonus day off with Yzelle just made it so much more enjoyable!

At the Pearly Beach Resort, a lady from Germany reversed her big 4x4 bakkie into Yzelle's car, leaving a barely noticable scratch on the front bumper. She was in a state of shock, apologising profusely. Despite our protests, she insisted on paying for damages and we eventually we managed to convince her that R1 000 was way too much, but we couldn't get away with accepting less than R500! She just wouldn't let us go without accepting the money. So, that meant that our campsite for the weekend was paid for! Yet another assurance that God gives us what we need when we least expect it, in ways that we could never imagine!

The weekend was great, we spent quality time together and had Sunday lunch with Uncle Thomas and Maryann, who invited us to also spend the night with them. So now I have just spent my whole Sunday afternoon bringing my diary up to date for you guys. At an age where I probably should have taken an afternoon nap!

Thank you for your incredible support! We really do appreciate it more than you could ever imagine.

Jaco Kaalvoet