The Kaalvoetsolo Blog Site

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.