Monday, 16 February 2009
It was time to say goodbye to Yzelle and Ma and I was not in a hurry. We got down to the beach at 9h00 and Ds Jan Heenop was also waiting to see me off. After wishing me well and leading us in a prayer, he departed and left us to say our goodbyes. It was not easy and even though I tried to keep it short, I only left half an hour later.
Probably the most profound experience of my walk, so far, then occurred. I was walking on a carpet of twigs and reeds, washed up onto the beach by the tides, while I was having another one of my conversations with God. I had just asked Him if He was still with me, because I was feeling very lonesome. Then suddenly, there was a few square metres of smooth, dry sand amongst the debris, no twigs, no stones, no shells, no footprints... just two small twigs laying across each other, in a perfect crucifix, almost in the middle of this clearing. Do you think that was an answer to my question? I do not doubt it. I picked up the twigs, put them in my pocket and went on with a song in my heart!
The beach sand was firm, so walking conditions were good, yet I didn't make fast progress. After five kilometres, I reached Geelkrans and with the tide still fairly high, the best route, according to some fishermen, was to take the sand track up to the top of the dunes and follow it for a few kilometres before coming back down to the beach. Walking behind the dune was quite easy and I covered good ground, until the track suddenly swung left, away from the sea. However, I could see what looked like a t-junction further along, so I stayed on the track, planning to take a right at the junction, which should take me in the right direction again.
However, the track turned out to be the main gravel road between Stilbaai and Gouritzriver Mouth, but it was still leading in the right direction, so I decided to keep going that way. The rough gravel surface was hard on my feet and suddenly the inflammation in my right hip started causing me pain again. But there was nothing to do but keep walking and by early evening I was all in and made a basic camp next to the road, amongst some low bushes. I had done 22 km and was not feeling strong.
Tuesday 17 February 2009
The night had been uncomfortable and I woke early, packed up and set off as soon as I had a Herbalife shake and pain tablets. I hadn't walked more than a few hundred metres when I came upon roadworks. Not the delaying type, though, but a very smooth, flat, recently graded surface that felt like marble underfoot and my spirits rose. Walking at more than 5 km per hour, I soon reached the tarred section of the road and my speed dropped to about 4,5km per hour on the rougher surface, but my muscles and joints had warmed up and I was doing well, so I pushed on for another 10 km before taking a rest.
Getting started after a 15 minute rest, was agonizing, with the stiffness returning. But within a few minutes I had warmed up again and it got easier. At least I realised that my body was getting tougher, and with the improved resilience, it was healing faster.
Before long, I reached the turnoff to Gouritz Mouth. A local motorist confirmed that there were no fishermen with boats at the mouth, and that, if I just continued as I was going, I would encounter the narrow bridge across the river within 3 km, and that would put me within reach of Vleesbaai. The rest of the afternoon was a hard march in the heat, along the tar, only to find that Vleesbaai was a closed, security development. The security guard gave me the number of a Mr Van Rensburg, who owned a small, private campsite outside the village. Mr Van Rensburg was more than happy to accommodate me at the camp for the night and even suggested that I make myself comfortable under the roof of the lapa-style kitchen area, as it looked like rain.
At the camp, I met Tara, from Jeffreys Bay, who had seen a newspaper article about my walk, and offered to share her braai meat with me. This sounded much better than cuppa'snack, so I accepted the offer. While chatting, we discovered that she had met my brother Philip in Peru, two years ago when he was part of a paddling expedition on the Amazon, and she had been on holiday there. Small world indeed!
Wednesday, 18 February 2009
It was low tide and the bay towards Danabaai and Mosselbay stretched for miles ahead of me. The sand was quite loose and walking was uncomfortable but uneventful, until I reached the end of the beach at Danabaai. From here, it was rocky, with cliffs that I couldn't pass, as the tide had come in and was blocking my way. All I could do was to go up into the village and follow the streets to the start of the St Blaize Trail, along the top of the cliffs to Mosselbay. It was beautiful, and even the very posh gholf estate blended in well with the scenery.
It was getting late and I was taking strain with the sore hip, so I phoned Jan, a cousin of a friend of Philip, who had offered me accommodation. He happened to be in Mosselbay and was quite happy to pick me up and take me to their home for the night. What I didn't realise, was that he lived in Tergniet, a village further up the coast. This meant that my next day's route would end just a short distance from his place, again! And Jan and Hannalie were eager to put me up for a second night! Things were looking up for me.
Thursday, 19 February 2009
Hannelie dropped me in Mosselbay just after 8h00 and I set off at a decent pace. To get around the harbour, I had to walk along the streets, but to my joy, I found the tar to be pleasantly smooth, so with a bit of a spring in my limp, I soon reached Diaz beach, from where I was back on sand. It was turning into a good day and with gathering rain clouds, the heat also disappeared and made my walk even more pleasant. At the mouth of the Kleinbrak river, I waded through about waist deep. As I reached the bank, I saw a gentleman approaching me from a nearby house. He introduced himself as Francois Malherbe and invited me home for lunch. Arriving there, his wife, Ida, had a plate of scrumptious sandwiches and fruit waiting! They were on holiday here, but lived in Richardsbay, up the Kwazulu-Natal coast. That is also on my route and he gave me some useful information about the area, but also invited me to stay over with them when I get there!
After spending more than an hour with Francous, Ida and their friend Gerrie (also a keen barefooter), I had to get moving, so off I went, with a full stomach and a smile on my face. God is good! Life is good!
Just after 5pm, I was at the Grootbrak river mouth, where Jan, Hannelie and little Jan-Hendrik soon arrived to pick me up. I had a good day's walk... maybe too good, because before long my hip was so stiff and sore, that I could hardly get out of the car when we got home. After a hot shower I was feeling better, though.
Friday, 20 February 2009
Fro Grootbrak it was a very pleasant, short stretch of beach to Glentana, but from there, I decided to head up the road to the N2 highway to George and hopefully all the way to Victoria Bay. The hill from Glentana was steep, long and winding and by the time I had reached the top, I was ready for a break. On the way, I had been wondering what had made me decide to take this longer route, on tar, to top it all. As you know by now, I have come to detest tar roads.
Just as I was about to take the offramp onto the highway, a lady in a bakkie stopped me and asked where I was walking to. When I told her, she said that her husband would like to meet me and invited me for coffee at their house, just across the road. Hester and Wouter Brand were two refreshingly energetic people who love travelling all over Africa by motorcycle. In fact, Wouter is the founder of Tracks for Africa, a GPS mapping programme. He questioned me intensively about my GPS and then enquired about my camera. When I told him that I was using my cellphone's basic camera, since my camera's zoom had packed up, he grunted disapprovingly, saying that on a trip like this, I need a descent camera. He got up, went into the house and came back, holding out a camera to me. He had recently bought himself a fancy new camera and said that his previous camera was just gathering dust in the cupboard and that it means more to him, giving it to me, than having it just lay there for nothing. I was flabbergasted! And now I also knew why I had taken the long route up to the highway! Yet again, God has lead me to great people like Wouter and Hester. Thank you, Wouter!
I could have stayed there in the garden with them all day but I still had some way to go for the day, so I thanked them and got going again.
But this was not the only piece of good fortune to come my way on this day. Just before George, a car pulled up next to me. It was Sandra Van Eeden from Plettenberg Bay and she invited me to stay over when I got there. And, before driving off, she gave me a bottle of cold water and a packet of biltong!
By the time I reached the outskirts of George, my hip felt ready to fold under me and I was not in a place where I could safely camp. But just then, Jan phoned again. They were concerned about my condition and suggested I spend the weekend with them to recover and rest! How is that for goodwill!? Not long after, he was there, picked me up and took me back to Tergniet again.
The weekend was great, they had invited a group of friends over for a spitbraai on Saturday and by sunset the lamb was grilling well, the aroma filling the air and teasing the tastebuds. It was great to be welcomed by people whom I had never met before, and who had now become close and beloved friends.
On Sunday morning, we went to church, and Dr Van Zyl, the local minister had assured me that I would be most welcome to attand the service barefoot. He was also keen to let me give my testimony befor the congregation. Just like at Stilbaai, the response and support of the Rhebok congregation, was overwhelming!
Monday, 23 February 2009
It was hard to part with my new friends, but the walk to Wildernis was not a long one and my hip had responded well to the rest. Just before Victoria Bay, I took the old, unused railway track that lead through a series of short tunnels and over the Kaaimans river bridge, to Wildernis. It was a most picturesque route and although the railwayline was not the best surface to walk on, I enjoyed the scenery so much, that I hardly noticed the distance. As I was about to enter the last tunnel before Wildernis, I came upon a strange, magical cave, right by the tracks. It apparently used to be a restaurant when the train still ran, but now the owner had given Clifford and some friends permission to live there. The whole place was decorated with shells, driftwood and pieces of art that they had fashioned out of bits an pieces found along the coast. I had a leasurely cup of coffee with Clifford before moving on to the beach at Wildernis.
The tide was coming in and I did not get far before I was faced, yet again, by cliffs rising straight up out of the sea. I had been told about this spot and knew that it was only passable at low tide. But my day was done anyway and I phoned Chris Leggatt, who was to be my host for the evening. Chris is the owner of Eden Adventures and we had met a number of times before.
The evening with Chris, his wife Louise and the boys, Julian and Luke (sorry, EAGLE!), was thoroughly enjoyable and I had a good night's rest in their home right on the banks of the Touw river.
Tuesday, 24 February 2009
Chris dropped me where I had finished the day before and this time, an hour before low tide, getting past the cliffs was a breeze. I was only going as far as Sedgefield, because by then it would be high tide again and the now familiar cliff scenario would be repeating itself just beyond the river mouth there. Rounding the beautiful Gericke's Point, I came within sight og my destination, but, first, I had an appointment with Dave Jones. Dave is a retired teacher, ex chairman of the Southern Cape section of the Mountain Club of SA, and currently a correspondent for the local newspaper. Chris had phoned ahead and Dave was waiting for me on the beach. After the interview, which was conducted over lunch at his home, he took me back and I soon reached the river mouth. It was getting chilly, a few drops of rain had fallen and the outgoing tide was creating a strong current flowing towards the sea. All in all, the swim across the river was not looking inviting and I was trying my best to find excuses to delay it is long as I can. But in the end, there was no other choice and after wrapping my pack in my slightly damaged and leaking plastic cover, I swam across. It was easy enough after all but my bag got a bit damp. I didn't have long to wait for Jessica, a friend of my old friend Kate, who was to take me into Knysna. Kate had offered me the use of her flat in Knysna while she was away and Jessica had volunteered to shuttle me back and forth. I was starting to feel quite guilty about all the royal treatment I was getting along the way, but consoled myself with the sobering thought that I have more than enough hardships waiting for me later on in the journey...
Wednesday, 25 February 2009
After an early night, I woke up refreshed and got my things read. Jessica picked me up and drove me back to Sedgefield where the low tide was only ninety minutes away and the beach was wide and open. Today I had to do 23 km in five hours to be in time for my NSRI pick-up at Brenton-on-Sea. Kate had arranged withe the guys at Station 12 to provide me with safe passage across the treacherous and notorious Knysna Heads. I arrived at Brenton at the same time as the rubberduck came into view. It came racing through the surf and skidded to a halt on the sand in front of me. Grant and Andrew introduced themselves to me and explained the procedure from there. I put my bag in the duck and we turned it to face the sea again, waiting for a suitably calm spell to launch into the surf again. But first we were hit by two big "dumpers", that left us, and my pack, thoroughly drenched! However, when we got going, the highly agile little craft, masterfully handled by Grant, dodged and played cat-and-mouse with the breakers until we found a gap to shoot through and meet up with Graeme, Mark and Declan in the bigger semi-rigid inlatable, behind the waves. I transferred over onto the bigger duck and we took to the open sea to get the right angle at which to enter the channel between the Eastern and Western Heads. Arriving safely at their base on the eastern side,we discovered that my highly prized walking stick had somehow fallen overboard. These Sea Rescue guys are always up for a new challenge, and despite my assurances that it was just a stick, after all, Graeme (the Station 12 Commander), explained that it would be a good excercise for his guys to find and retrieve it. If they can find a walking stick, they can find a person floating in the sea. And lo and behold, Andrew and Grant found it!
Thank you guys, you are just the best! To the seafarers around Knysna, I would like to say: You cannot ask for better guys to come to your aid if you are ever in need!
From the NSRI, it was still a long 8 km to the top of the hill at Pezula Resort where I ended my day. Again, Jessica, who is employed at the resort, shuttled me back to Kate's flat.
Thursday. 26 February 2009
Jessica was not available to take me to my starting point, but another friend of Kate, Carmen, had offered to drive me to the Noetsie road, where my walk would begin. From here to Plettenberg Bay, I had 28 km of tar road ahead of me and the heat soon made itself felt. Amongst the forests and plantations along the road, the humidity was high and I was sweating profusely! But apart from the tar, the walking was smooth and without incident. A quick lunch stop at Harkerville, followed by a refreshment stop at The Heath, a delightful coffee shoppe/ furniture showroom/ craftshop, saw me entering Plettenberg Bay and reaching the Van Eeden residence before 5pm. Sandra, Pieter, the twins Jacques and Pierre, with their sister Donna, made me feel most at home and the braai by Pieter was a feast of steak, pork and lamb! Thank you thank you!
Friday, 27 February 2009
I was planning to walk to Natures Valley but first I had some business at the bank in Plet, and I had to get to a camping store to buy a new survival bag, as my old one had torn even further during the swim across the mouth at Sedgefield. By the time I was done in town, it was past 10am and I walked as fast as I could towards Keurbooms Village. But even though I was there by 2pm, the tide was already rising and I was too late to make it around the point towards Nature's Valley. All I could do, was to phone my friends, Bob and Louise Reed in Stormsriver. The weekend was to be another rest at Stormsriver, before taking on the world famous Otter Trail. Because of the trail logistics, I am required to do the trail from the Tsitsikamma National Park, towards Nature's Valley, which is in the opposite direction of my route. But in the end this does not make much of a difference, as the area covered, is still the same.
In Stormsriver Village, where I had lived for a number of years, before and after the river accident, many old friends welcomed me back with support, love and encouragement. It was so good to be back amongst people who knew me and what this journey means to me. Seeing my old colleagues at Stormsriver, was like being with family again. It was here that my adventure career had started, where I learnt what true commitment and community upliftment meant. My former employer and mentor, Ashley Wentworth, is still, after all these years, the passionate job creator and force behind the upliftment of local communities that I had known back then. This man was like a father to many of us and still is, to the new generation of guides, and also to many others in the local community. For everything you have done for me, Ash, and the example that you have set, I salute you!
