CHAPTER 32 - SOUTH AFRICA, PART I

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Exchange rate 6.0 South African rand to US$1

Mo 11/15/99 - Cape Town (Tamboerskloof)

(From 11/15 to 11/22 I lost my terse notes when the handheld needed to be reset again so details are vague. I copied from Robyn's diary.)

Logan was only with us for a few more hours. The group - Robyn, Logan, Rick, and Maryke walked through the garden and into Green Market Square. After a lunch on Long Street at the Blue Moon, we said our goodbyes to Logan and wished him the best.

For the remainder of Maryke's stay, the four of us pitched in for a rented car (white Corolla four door, 1.3 liter, 130 rand/day). With wheels we had a freedom none of had seen for at least three weeks. I hadn't driven a car in eight months, since Australia, and enjoyed zooming about the winding streets of Cape Town. We celebrated by eating Indian in Sea Point for dinner.

Tu 11/16/99 - Cape Town (Tamboerskloof)

The game plan with the car was to show Maryke the Cape Peninsula. I was the only to have previously seen the sights and I didn't mind pitching in for the car and seeing them again. Playing tourguide is always fun anyway.

To circumnavigate the peninsula I chose to drive down the west coast and back along the east. The first stop was the famous Clifton beaches, four bright sandy beaches named one, two, three, and four at the base of cute vacation cottages and enormous white condominiums. Here the Benguela current from the Antarctic makes the water nippy, but I swim is a must on the tour. Clifton is referred to as South Africa's Riviera.

We drove south along a famous piece of coastline, Chapman's Peak Drive, a scenic piece of road cut into cliffside and tittering above classic breaking ocean. When we rounded a bend to see the long and white sand beach of Scarborough, we unanimously agreed to stop for lunch and a swim. The cold lunch we made was very palatable, but te water temperature was impossible. We yearned to ride the big breaking waves but with a few seconds in the cold blue sea we were screaming an running for warmth.

Although most Americans believe the Cape of Good Hope to be Africa's southern most point, it isn't, that distinction belongs to Cape Agulhas. It isn't even the southern most point on the Cape Peninsula, Cape Point is. The Cape of Good Hope is a landmark though, especially for tourists. A sign stands at the end of a parking lot near the ocean and reads in English and Afrikaans - latitude, longitude, and the dubious credit of being the south-western most point in Africa

While the Cape of Good Hope is great for tourist photos, Cape Point on the other hand is a great promontory over the ocean. When the wind blows the aura of the high viewpoint is best. A fallacy is often heard that one can see the meeting of the Indian and Atlantic Oceans.

The next stop on Bob's Tour was Boulders Beach near Simonstown. Boulders has one of the most accessible penguin colonies to man. We all thoroughly enjoyed watching the little African Penguins, also called Jackass Penguins, darting about underwater and wattled on sand. The stand rigid in large groups on rocks, some look untidy from molting feathers. Along with the penguins, Boulders' beauty is in the small beach itself strewn with large round stones.

We made arrangements to meet Roy (Which Way driver) at the famous meeting spot, the Brass Bell in Kauk Bay. The Brass Bell sits over the ocean on stilts, the pub side is warm with old wood and brass adornments. The atmosphere was cosy, we ordered inexpensive entrees, and waited for Roy who showed late with a freind, both happy and drunk.

We 11/17/99 - Hermanus, South Africa

The tour continued with a trip to South Africa's largest wine region nearby Cape Town called Stellenbosh. Stellenbosch's old university center is attractive Cape Dutch, as are the many surrounding wine farms. We zeroed into the Hartenberg Winery for a cold lunch with too much wine then drove onto Hermanus.

Of the three backpackers in Hermanus, Zoeta Inval (028-31-21242) was the only with soace. We treated ourselves to very nice rooms at the same standard as Newport's expensive bed and breakfasts (R85pp). For dinner we made our first visit to the fantastic Ocean Basket, a seafood chain through the Cape.

Th 11/18/99 - Cape Town (Tamboerskloof)

Hermanus is a favorite spot of mine in the Cape. On all previous visits I spent many days at the Shirley and Peter Prynn's (Kerry's parents) holiday home in the Veldrif community. Hermanus has great mountains and a cliffwalk for walking, and fabulous varied beaches. The tourist town is small and somewhat quaint.

Group vote opted for a walk on the pretty and meandering cliff path before departing Hermanus. We were lucky to spot Southern right Whales just offshore for most sightings are made in October. At my favorite beach, Longbaii, Rick and I fought the mad surf for thirty minutes while the girls watched from shore. With the tide coming up, Longbaii is a blast with rough and big waves that bounce off rock causing two different angles of attack.

Rather than drive the quick route back to the N2, we drove along the coast, stopping at Stoney Point to view another penguin colony (not so accessible, fencing). The drive north of Betty's Bay is superb - long uninhabited mountain scenery with crashing blue ocean beneath.

After booking again into Zebra Crossing (small double in front, mosquitoes, R110 total), we ventured to the inexpensive and varied Sea Point again for dinner and afterward treated ourselves to a few laps past the prostitutes working the dark streets nearby. We all got a kick of the silliness ad jokes flew. We were surprised to see some very sexy ad attractive girls, one of which gave a titty show that I missed.

Fr 11/19/99 - Cape Town (Tamboerskloof)

Today was Marykes last day. Robyn and I spent the day chasing errands while Rick drove Maryke to the airport mid-afternoon. In the evening we met Carolyn Kinross (Kerry's cousin) at the Sandbox in Camps Bay, then ate Italian nearby. My last visits to Cape Town were a blast when Carolyn and I were together. We were two of the twelve on the Otter Trail and walked in Silvermine together.

Sa 11/20/99 - Hermanus, South Africa

I had a couple of visits with Peter and Shirley Prynn (Kerry's parents) during the week and yesterday asked if a night in Hermanus was okay. On the way, Robyn, Rick, and I stopped at the Steenbras River for a "kloof", the first of many this vacation.

In Afrikaans "kloof" translate as "gorge", to "go kloofing" is a term describing the sport of hiking through a river gorge, which consists of trail walking, boulder hopping, rock climbing, swimming, and jumping from heights into water. In Australia, New Zealand, and other countries, the term used is "canyoning". Abseiling is often included in the fun, especially in commercial packages. In the Cape Town vicinity two kloofs are popular, Suicide Kloof and Steenbras Kloof (Kamikaze Canyon). Permits for both are hard to come by, Suicide is booked a month in advance and the office for Steenbras in Gordon's Bay is open only business hours. Two adventure companies who then charge 250 to 400 rand for a day outing buy most permits. Considering the complications and in particular that the access to Suicide is through a manned gate and that Steenbras is not staffed, the simple solution is to kloof Steenbras without a permit.

I had been to Steenbras two or three times during my last visits to Cape Town and this would be the first of many day trips. I knew the kloof was fairly easy to navigate, but on this trip I missed the landmark big square boulder that leads to the first small pool that is good warm up for higher jumps. Rick was cautious and lacked excitement, a previous experience nagged him and he sensed my unfamiliarity. Once at the first big pool navigation was obvious, we stayed in the gorge. Without hesitation I walked to a ten-meter jump and flung myself to the water, crashing and splashing full of adrenaline. Equally enjoyable are the jumps and the river canybeauty. The trip was good, Robyn was hooked on the canyon scenery of handsome dark pools and pretty waterfalls, a wonderful way to enjoy a piece of South Africa. (See 12/11/99 and 12/17/99 for more detail on the kloof.)

The secondary road from Gordon's Bay to Betty's Bay is superb, great uninhabited mountain and ocean scenery.

We sat at Peter and Shirley's small vacation home in Hermanus (Voelklip) with tea and chatter. They were interested in talking with Rick, an intern doctor from Holland, and Robyn from Australia having traveled for years.

Rick and I were thrilled with a swim at the rough Longbaii (Long Bay) where a upcoming high tide creates a washing machine effect in the narrow, long walled beach. From seaward some waves bounced off the left wall so we had to be wary of large surf from two directions - it was awesome!

Later, per my suggestion, we dined at Green's, an old favorite, but were disappointed with the portions. We laughed at the appetizer Rick and Robyn split - three pieces of bowtie pasta on a plate.

Su 11/21/99 - Cape Town (Tamboerskloof)

In the morning we had a pleasant breakfast with Peter and Shirley. Afterward, Robyn, Rick, and I ventured into the rolling mountains directly behind Voelklip to the three dams that were once the town's water source (20 minutes). On previous trips the group I accompanied would lay on a beach near the wall of the first and largest dam, sun basking and jumping from cliffs nearby. But this year the dam was near empty, it looked sad and unnatural, and the jumps too dangerous. We walked to the second dam, which was full; we crawl down from the trail, and swam off the wall. From the center of the dam wall the scenery up and down the gorge was very pretty - steep green mountains whose cusp held the dark water. In contrast to the plunging fifteen-meter drop off one side of the dam, the other invited a refreshing, cool, and relaxing swim in tannin water.

What activity could follow a pleasant mountain walk and refreshing freshwater swim then to be thrashed about again at Langbaii? It could be called the Heramus's awesome threesome - walking in the mountains, swimming in the dams, then a swim on incoming tide at Langbaii!

Today was Sunday, Rick was starting his four week stint in dermatology at Groote Schuur tomorrow. He needed to return Cape Town early and settle into The Lodge in Observatory. We departed lovely Hermanus mid-afternoon. Robyn and I returned to Zebra Crossing in Platteklip.

Mo 11/22/99 - Cape Town (Tamboerskloof)

Robyn and I leisurely walk the city, informally sight seeing and strolling through errands. We walked through Bo-Kaap, also referred to as the Muslim Quarter, an old section of brightly colored single story homes and stores on a hillside just east of the city proper. Continuing south, the Waterfront was about another twenty minutes. The Waterfront is an incredible redevelopment effort of commercial harbor property similar to New York's South Street Seaport and Boston's Faneiul Hall and Quincy Market. It's a large pleasing area of beautifully renovated old buildings, new shops, dockominiums, and still nearby are the commercial vessels. It's a great, bright, and pretty place to wander with fun stores, restaurants and bars overlooking the water, street performers, movies houses including IMAX, and an aquarium.

Tu 11/23/99 - Cape Town (Tamboerskloof)

To help prepare our minds and bodies for the upcoming five day Otter Trail I suggested a quick walk to the top of Lion's Head, a peak in the city standing alone but nearby Table Mountain's cable car point. The mountains make Cape Town one of the most beautiful cities in the world. The huge Table Mountain dominates the scene, but Lion's Head (669m) and adjoining Lion's Rump, also called Signal Hill (350m), are also fascinating to gazed at and from. Signal Hill can be driven to from Kloof Neck and along the Lion's "rump". Lion's Head at a good pace can be climbed from the rump in an hour. The reward at top is astounding - in your face views of Table Mountain with equally impressive sights of the city and it's ocean front suburbs around to the long, bright beach of Camp's Bay. Behind Camp's Bay, Table Mountain with the bumps called the Twelve Apostles parallels the coast into the distance.

We called for a Rikki, the unique local transport in the back of an extremely small Japanese van, and were dropped at Lion's Rump. The walk up is moderately pitched. We wove our way back and forth across the city side of the mountain until finding a steep ascent aided by ladders and chains. A short rock scramble led to the top and the 360 degree views were breathtaking! Robyn and I were alone, remote from the population around us. We wandered from one edge to the next filling our minds with the scenes below and Table Mountain (1000m) above then sat for lunch.

We walked from Lion's Head to Zebra by shortcutting the roads through fallen pine forest. We met Rick and Pepe at Zebra about 1pm to discuss the Otter Trail. This was our introduction to Pepe, another Dutch doctor in training, also tall and quick to smile, and a absolutely fun and humorous guy. They gave Robyn and I a lift into town near the Post Office for groceries and other errand and we later ran into them again at Imperial Car Rental.

Robyn and I rented a Corolla after I spent much time researching the possibilities. A company in Stellenbosh called "Best Beatles" sounded unusual and interesting. They have a fleet of forty plus old Beatles for 1200 rand a month, unlimited miles. But I thought better especially after hearing horror stories of the Beatles, of course many stories were from the competition. We instead returned to Imperial on Strand St. where the manager made a nice deal and we sneakily upgraded with a large Cape Colored women when the manager was off duty (red four door Toyota Corolla, 32,000km, 99 rand per day inclusive of insurance and taxes, 150 kilometers per day, 1 rand per kilometer thereafter).

We had wheels again! The thrill was still amazing after depending on local transport for months. Robyn and I drove madly for any little excuse we could find. Each time in the driver seats a warm and exciting rush would run through my chest.

For dinner we drove to Noon Gun, a restaurant at the top of Bo-Kaap for Malaysian food (bobueti and brianni xxx) and terrific view of the city below.

A collaboration of Chinese and Swedish (correct?) made the film Xiu Xiu, an interesting subtitled flick with a strange, disappointing ending. We drove to the movies too!

We 11/24/99 - On Road To The Otter Trail

Today, our last before the famous Otter Trail, was spent shopping and with other last minute chores. Of the six spots I had, Robyn, and Rick's friend Pepe took two, two were unspoken for. The sixth was taken by good buddy and previous round the world partner John McKinney who was rejoining the trip with five weeks off. He would finish our prepaid airline tickets and travel from Cap Town on his own. Robyn and I bought food for four and with Pepe planned to retrieve John from a mad trip through Washington, D. C., Frankfurt, Johannesburg, and into Cape Town at 11:20pm.

Robyn and I made plans to meet Rick and Pepe at The Lodge in Observatory at 6pm. The foursome then drove to fetch the Dutch men's friend from Bulawayo, Christine, and now a fivesome, we ate Italian in Sea Point. The most interesting aspect of the mellow night were the working ladies along Main Road, one of which twice bared her breasts for our pleasure although I missed both shows.

John's flight was due at 11:20 PM, Robyn, Pepe and I diligently awaited his arrival, half asleep in the ca outside international arrives. Pepe looked at the scheduled flights in the ghostly quet airport and declared that no flights would arrive tonight, that one from Frankfurt on Lufthansa was due at 12:20 PM tomorrow. Damn! What happened? The flight at 12:20 PM matched John's fight number. The time was now after midnight and we raced back into Observatory for a 24 hour email cafe to confirm the situation. John had called Rachel from Frankfurt and confirmed the mess. We werto start hiking the Otter Trail in the morning and still had a six hour drive to Storm's River. I left a long-winded email for John, the gist was to rent a car one way and catch up the second morning.

This was a good blunder. There were issues - we had wasted a night, had to drive six hours and start the trail sour, rented the car for the three of us, didn't know if John would come along, and thus didn't know what food should be - or not be - carried for him.

We flew off to Storm's River.

Th 11/25/99 -Day 1, Ngubu Hut, Otter Trail, South Africa

We cruised through the night. I drove from sometime after 1am, at 4am I hit a huge rabbit.. I was feigning sleep, my head was nodding, and shortly afterward Robyn took command. Before leaving Australia she had lost her license so when we sped into a road block we worried. A policeman ran over, "You have no front license plate, you must have one for the speed detectors". No license plate?! How absurd! We played it up and all jumped out to look and say, "Yes, no plate." Then I realized it was left on the back of the bunny rabbit's head. The cop excused us when a large tractor-trailer came racing into the roadblock, he never asked for a license from Robyn.

We paused in Plettenburg Bay for breakfast and to check email from John, and then moved onto Storm's River.

The Otter Trail is known in the Cape as South Africa's premiere hiking trail. It's 42 kilometers, five days, and four nights of constant coastal and forest beauty with moderate challenge. Each day only twelve people set off from Storm's River mouth westerly on the trail, staying in two wooden cabins at each night's scenic location.

Booking nearly a year in advance is essential. Sister Monica and I both applied just after Christmas last year. I was denied, Monica's was accepted and she did the leg work to close the booking.

After orientation and finding my trip in the sign-in log from four years ago, we were off at 1pm. The walk started very nicely along the wild coast and without much challenge. The path coursed along the strong sea and over orange lichen covering off-white colored rock. The views along the coast were breathtaking, inviting pools of clear seawater bordered the ocean waves and the open trail across the rock, and when the trail did meander through the forest bird calls were abundant. We then passed the first landmark, a large mouthed cave with bat dung and bones and shells from inhabitants long ago. Seventy-five minutes and we made the first important landmark - a large and beautiful waterfall and swimming spot.

The waterfall is at the day-trippers trail end, further access is open to Otter Trail participants only. But the waterfall alone is well worth trip. It's a high, fairly wide, and steep cascading falls terminating in a large deep pool. The water is colored dark with tannin from tree roots and leaves. This spot is great for hours or even a day of fun. The wide and high falls is situated on the open coast with great sea views, the pool has plenty of depth for jumping into from the falls, an exhilarating ten meter rock climb reveals a shelve pool with precarious angle of view, and below the main pool empties in a thick stream into a long tidal pool below.

As soon as I arrived my beige walking shorts were off, swimshorts were on, and I dove into the main fresh dark water pool. We spent an hour swimming, taking photos, and talking to the other six on the trail. Pepe donned snorkel and mask and searched the tidal pool below. From the top of that pool I spied the crystal clear water and didn't resist the ten-foot jump then swam about looking for access back up the rock. The sea waves crashed over rock and into the pool so when I swam underwater the waves darken my seaworld. During our late lunch of Indian seasoned tunafish, cheese, and tomato the attention of the trail hikers and day trippers were captured by a handful of dolphin swimming across the sea nearby.

Forty-five minutes alog similar breathtaking scenery and we made Ngubu Hut. Here we would find a pattern for the trip. With six reservations we assumed one hut. The other six were from Cape Town and Johannesburg and each day would walk ahead to hut number two at each location - the one with the better scenic view. This was annoying, but first come first serve. Some days, like today, we were prevented from venturing ahead, others we didn't want to speed and miss time in great spots.

Total distance today was 4.8 kilometers, 2 hours.

With only three in the six person cabin, we found ourselves with plenty of room. We removed cooking items and food from our packs and spread it out along the single plain wooden counter, then claimed a bunk.

I joined Pepe with his binoculars when he realized the people from the other cabin was naked on the rocks in front of us, but we were quickly caught out, and became ashamed and too embarrassed to augel xxx the women from the porch. We moved to the shadows of the cabin doorway.

We also went to the rocks to scout the shore. I was exhausted and cuddled into a rock crack for a snooze while Pepe unsuccessfully fished and Robyn wandered. Later we cooked dinner of marinated steak and rice on Rick's small propane stove and then sat around a fire under the stars chatting with the ocean backdrop.

Fr 11/26/99 -Day 2, Scott Hut, Otter Trail, South Africa

I woke first at 7am and while walking to the shower - a plastic pipe high on a rock pouring water in the woods, I passed the other group awake and cheery. While we slowly broke through the first morning pains and scoffed breakfast (cereal and powdered milk), the second group were on their front deck stretching and warming muscles - a bit far off for us. I expected John to show early, but by eight-thirty we started packing in any event. We were just about to leave when I heard Pepe speaking to someone - I thought it must be John, it was, and he was bouncing with excitement at finding us still at the hut. For the occasion he wore his sad gray "Hartford Soccer" t-shirt, one I saw too often during our trip together from California to Singapore. John was here!

The second day's section started with the first of three steep ascents, this one fifteen minutes. We were fresh, except for John, so this ascent wasn't relatively difficult. At the top was an exceptional view of our cabins we had just left with tree filled coastline extending to Storm's River.

Two kilometers into the day's trek we stopped at a small river for a short break and once again were presented with another fun (sic) ascent. In an hour and one half we were at Kleinbos River, our lunch spot for the day. The Kleinbos is a great swimming spot with high sheer rocks walls close together, creating a trough-like appearance. We swam through the first long cold tannin pool, barking between the rock walls like seals and baboons. Two smaller pools invited further exploring, and then a seven meter waterfall tempted Pepe and myself while John and Robyn stopped earlier to warm themselves. The climb was precipitous, my river shoes slipped and handholds weren't the best. It as dangerous, but the pool above was worth the drama though, another long pool sided by sheer walls. John and Robyn joined us by clambering along the gorge sides instead of swimming. The kloof was great, the scenery was unique and stunning, and the isolation added to the effect. After I scouted through this second long pool - only finding a river-strewn river beyond, we took turns jumping into the dark river, hoping that our earlier testing was correct in placing rocks. On the trip down we found many hidden boulders, Pepe named one "Stupid" after scraping his chest, unfortunately I wasn't notified and did the same. We rushed a back because of the cooling effect of the water, then enjoyed lunch, well earned after more than an hour of swimming and climbing and shivering.

The only beach on the Otter Trail was another kilometer and a half along, called Blue Bay. We left our packs at a junction and walked down to the sandy beach flanked by impressive cliffs and backed by greenery. To our left, the east, was a view along the coastthat we had walked - an extended hump of high green mountain falling into the sea. Although the weather had now turned overcast and cooler, the big blue waves pounding the beach were enticing and while John laid himself out for a nap, Robyn, Pepe, and I played around in the surf. The ocean water was cool but the warmest we've felt since arriving in southern Africa.

From Blue Bay we were presented with out third trying ascent of the day. For most river crossings on the trial we would descend steeply then ascend immediately thereafter. The silence while ascending this grade told of our weariness, it seemed to never end, countless steps up and switchbacks through forest, after fifteen long minutes we reached a plateau in the trail.

One more trail section, 1.8 kilometers, led us to Scott Huts. (7.9km for the day.) The simple but comfortable huts at each spot are identical. They're carefully positioned raised wooden cabins with a deck, two triple bunks with mattresses, and a bench for cooking. They also have a nearby water source, Scott has a tap outside run from a stream above, and beneath the cabins firewood is stored.

To the immediate west is a nearly dry riverbed but upriver and right is a small waterfall and decent pool beneath for bathing. John went skinny and scared our neighbors with his white moon, we found the two neighbors laying in grass where they claimed to have passed out afterward. Robyn and I washed in the pool further up, a nice bathing spot with a small waterfall, and also the source for water at the cabins.

Sa 11/27/99 -Day 3, Oakhurst Hut, Otter Trail, South Africa

On the forty-five minute walk to Elanbos River I lost Robyn. John and I sat and waited just through an interesting tunnel of trees for her. With camera ready for a shot of her beneath the trees, I waited and waited. After twenty minutes I was worrying too much and left my pack with John to search the trail.

Many crazy thoughts flew through my head. The ocean was crashing to my right as I moved quickly along. I looked down from the trail and imagined horrible sights and became more distraught. She had to be on or near the trail and I started to run. I was crossing rocks just off the trail when Pepe called from behind. So, all was okay but how did this happen? John and I had left the trail at the tree tunnel when we sighted the river. Robyn and Pepe had saw the trail markers and walked by us while on the trail.

I ran back to find I lost my blue cap along the way. So I ran again down the trail for five minutes, searching for the hat without success. That was another senseless adventure because I found my hat stuffed into my pack with my camera!

We rested near the Elanbos River. The waves were big and breaking aggressively so of course the surf was a blast. One wave dumped Pepe nicely and he returned to the beach with a sick smile and soreness. A wonderful aspect of the Otter Trail is that after swimming in the ocean, a fresh river is often nearby to rinse in.

The trail handed us two nice hills then moderate ups and downs through forest then left us in open, hot baking sun. One and a half more hours from the river led to a magnificent view of rough seascape around the Oakhurst Huts on the Lottering River mouth, the best night spot on the trail.

Again the other team of six made the cabins first and chose number two, although here the cabins had near equal views. Our groups were warming up to one another and settling in they invited us for a river swim. The walk to the river was a bit of pain, especially since the tide was incoming. The river was comparatively shallow, but we did find a nice pool amidst sandy beach setup well for five meter jumps from adjacent cliff. The jumps entertained us (John, Gail, Pepe, Nick) for a long while, and we had a chance to better acquaint ourselves with the other group, in particular Gail who I would is full of adventurous and adrenaline seeking character. We would spend a few days together kloofing the Steenbras.

Our cabins were lacking firewood, so on the walk back I ventured alone to search the forest but found myself on a maintenance path and then faced with a huge pile of firewood. I hefted two bundles way back down to the cabins. I was proud of the find and expected a loud cheer considering the hard work and shoulder pain suffered. No. A ranger had delivered wood when we were swimming - my efforts were blunted.

"Loo" is the South Africa equivalent of toilet and it rhymes nicely with "view", and here in particular the term was repeated, "Loo with a view". In fact all of the Otter Trail loos have big windows and incredible views. I wondered if the location was considered a top priority in locating the toilets or whether it was some park offical humor at work.

Oakhurst at the Lottering River has by far the best views of pounding surf and river mouth on the trail. The cabins are situated with total exposure to these views. Below the cabins the coast is high rock and still the sea manages to strike and pound atop. The scene is spectacular. We watched the sun set below a cloud layer and simultaneously dolphins cruised past along the coast. Amazing!

Dinner tasted okay but sounded bad - rice and textured soy protein toppings. I supposed we didn't need to discuss the labels, but even so we were hungry and not fussy.

We crashed into bed early just after dark.

Su 11/28/99 - Day 4, Andre Hut, Otter Trail, South Africa

We were on trail just before 8am and once again lost Robyn. After yesterday's mistake I was more careful to rein the blame. This time Pepe had lost the trail and Robyn followed. When we met afterward, Pepe and Robyn were both tired and shaken. They had found themselves on very hairy cliff face before turning back to find the true trail.

The walk was again varied - through forest, along sea with gorgeous crashing waves, at heights with outstanding ocean views, and infrequently on flat ground. Three hours into the walk (included mishap) we found our swimming spot that John and I highly looked forward to. Last Otter Trail trip our group of twelve had spent a long time here. A river coursed into a short waterfall and pool. The unusual aspect was that the pool was fifty meters above the ocean and afforded terrific views. This year the rivers were running competitively low, this river was barley running, thus no waterfall. We did however stop for a rest, swim, and jump, but the same thrill was lacking.

One and a half hours later we were presented with a view above the famous Bloukrans River mouth. The scene was beautiful, clear light-blue waves cruising and building toward the coast, then smashing into rocks and into the river mouth. The dark brown tannin river meandered in a serpentine fashion over the wide, peach colored sandy river gorge. And again the mountains of green sloped abruptly to the wild ocean into the distance.

The Bloukrans River creates fear in most Otter Trail hikers, especially those that watch the orientation video. The river crossing can be very difficult, particularly when the rivers are high, on full or no moon, and when the sea is rough. It is highly recommended that the crossing be done at low tide. Our crossing, unfortunately, was not an issue. The river was low and the tide was neap low. We sat for lunch and scoped the situation and then watched the other group pass us - there went our only chance at the better cabin - and they walked through shallows and waves only reached their asses. rivers running low though, no big dramas.

The trail rose after the Bloukrans and presented a strange surreal scene. Many fires have plagued the Cape, here was a mountainside of burnt protea bushes with regrowth of bright green grass and red mountain flowers over blackened earth.

At the top of a head, Robyn and I saw the Andre huts on the near side of the Klip River. The scenery was different, shear yellow and orange cliffs soared up from the river. One hut had a much better view of the ocean and then we knew the other group had scoffed it and we would be buried a bit into the trees.

Of course John and I reminisced about our eight months together the beginning of the trip. I spoke of the other hikes we had done. In New Zealand we tramped the Muller Hut, Milford Track (5 days), and the Routeburn Trail (5 days). In Nepal we trekked the Annapurna Circuit (250 kilometers, 15 days, max altitude 5400 meters) and the Everest Base Camp Trek (14 days, max altitude 5400 meters). Robyn and I trekked to Point Lenana on Mt. Kenya (4 nights, max altitude 4985 meters). I had a couple of lengthy days. The day of the Thorong Pass on the Annapurna Circuit was twelve hard hours. Point Lenana day on Mt. Kenya was over ten hours and twenty-six kilometers. In comparison, the longest day on the Otter Trail is day four - 13.8 kilometers and an estimated 8 hours.

Mo 11/29/99 - Day 5, Nature's Valley, Otter Trail, South Africa

I woke to hear the incredible surf nearby beating the rock on shore again and thought about the hike being nearly completed, this was the fifth and last day of trail.

We washed in a pool in the Klip River, arranged a ride to our cars with Jerry in the other group, gulped the small quantity of leftover food, crossed river and ascended steeply for ten minutes. Most of the walk's remainder was high and exposed with the famous thundering seascapes endlessly forward and behind. At a few points we were able to come perilously close to the cliff edge for an even more exciting view straight down to the pounding surf. Both groups walked slowly together except for Jerry who suffered from new shoe blisters since the first day. Nick told of his new business on the web offering foreigners custom package tours in southern Africa and Gail who will spend three and a half weeks taking a course in Manchester to qualify as a English optometrist.

The view of Nature's Valley wide, five-kilometer beach is the last magnificent sight on the trail, a great scene to end with. Both groups gathered atop the high head overlooking the long beach and rows of cresting waves and snapped photos. After a tem minute walk down the steep trail, we all tossed aside backpacks and jumped into great bodysurfing waves, some of the best I've ever seen.

Daily estimates by Tsitsikamma National Park

day 1 Storm's River Mouth to Ngubu Hut, 4.8km, 2hr

day 2 Ngubu Hut to Scott Hut, 7.9km, 4hr

day 3 Scott Hut to Oakhurst Hut, 7.7km, 4hr

day 4 Oakhurst Hut to Andre Hut, 13.8, 6hr

day 5 Andre Hut to Nature's Valley, 6.8km, 3hr

total = 41.0 kilometers (25.6 miles)

John and I rode to Storm's River with Jerry to retrieve our cars, then joined the second group at a cafe in Nature's Valley for a highly anticipated lunch, as decedent as possible after feeling dietary caged on the trail. I felt as I could have simply continued walking, that nothing was especially missing from creature comforts or diet. In some strange way I didn't' have the expected highs of the Otter Trail, this the most valued of walks in South Africa. Not to say I didn't appreciate the trek, but I feel I should have sat and concentrated on the beauty, the huge crashing waves on the gorgeous rocky coastline, the dizzying heights and views for miles into the distance of rough coastline. I hate to suggest that I am losing the traveler’s edge after so many days on the road. Maybe uf one of the others repeated, "This is absolutely beautiful" into the ear and mind, then maybe my appreciation would have been reved.

We were without inexpensive options for lodging in Nature's Valley and i was glad for it. Our only choice, Hiker's Haven, was great. It's run by Ian and his wife, a large, beautiful thatched house 200 meters from the beach.

We opted for the dorm (45 pp), an attractive long room under sloped thatch with twelve singles and one double bed. Backpacker information adorned the walls (brochures for activities and other backpackers) and bookcases were filed with old religious and self help books. Every part of the home was inviting - the dorm, bar and pool table area, livingroom, and garden outside. We were in heaven.

After settling in, the foursome walking to the great beach for bad frisbee (wind) and more bodysurfing. On the beach were small snails that entertained. The looked busy racing nowhere and then became upset when we picked them up - their white translucent bodies squirmed about in air then they dove into the sand for safety like a a mad military machine.

Pepe made the suggestion of Plettenburg Bay for dinner and I jumped at the suggestion. Ian presented two options - a restaurant at Lookout Beach that has fun atmosphere but I opted for the proven Cranzgot's for pizza.

Tu 11/30/99 - Knysna

John, Robyn and I all tried hard to convince Pepe to stay on one extra night and to spend a day in Knysna with us, but he was on a mission, "Mozambique needs me!", to sort redtape in buying a hotel with two friends. They plan on turning the establishment into a backpacker. Pepe hopes to work as a doctor part time and work tourists with windsurfing and fishing part time. So, he was off with a ride to Port Elisabeth we found last night at Cranzgot's. We'll miss him and his smile and humor, especially his accent when we heard, "Can I fill your butthole?" He meant "bottle". That misinterpretation carried for days.

About twenty xxx kilometers west of Plettburg Bay is Knysna where I prepaid reservations at Kynsa Backpack Waterfront (triple @ 127 rand), not near Knysna's waterfront and not close to the vibrancy of the Cape Town sister lodge. It was rundown and in an unattractive setting, a real disappointment by first sight.

Knysna's waterfront is an attractive mini-version of Cape Town's with stores, restaurants, and dock area. With tried a popular restaurant named Drydock for a decent dinner meal (paella, lamb, seafood).

We 12/1/99 - Knysna

The threesome conscripted a nice German girl for the day and ventured to a waterhole on the Jubilee Trail in the mountains thirty minutes west of Knysna. The trail is part of an old gold mining area in a forested area. The walk from car to the hole passed a couple of interesting mine tunnels but sealed inside. The swim hole was good for a little swim with a small waterfall, but not overly exciting.

On the coast west of Knysna is Breton on Sea with a beach that many have raved about. We drove around the Knysna Lagoon and over a hill flanked fire in the Featherbed Nature Reserve. As we descended through the town of Breton on Sea the beach unfolded before us and was a remarkable sight. The area was quiet, few were on the large beach, and we easily entertained ourselves with wave riding and trying our hand at Frisbee.

Th 12/2/99 - Oudtshoorn, South Africa

Oudtshoorn, in the Little Karoo, is the center of the country's ostrich farming area. North of Oudtshoorn is the Swartberg Pass, praised by the Lonely Planet and a good reason to decide to visit Oudtshoorn. Another recommendation is driving back to Cape Town via the Rxxx which passes through pleasant countryside rather than the mundane N2 highway.

Our drive from Knysna plunged immediately into a scenic route by opting for the gravel road of the xxxx Pass. We left the residential areas of the coast and were in wilderness, climbing through the mountains.

In the sizable town of Oudtshoorn we drove straight to Oasis Backpacker, dropped our gear, and set off to Rust en Vrede, another swimming hole nearby. Rust en Vrede was far more interesting than Jubilee with a couple of cascading waterfalls, one about thirty meters, and spots for low jumps into the water. We picnicked quietly on rocks surrounded by the water in the upper pool beneath the high waterfall and admired the beauty of the surroundings. At the next, short falls we took turns jumping into a burbling pool and running around to repeat ourselves. Such simple pastimes can be so enjoyable!

Part of the excitement of being in Oudtshoorn was imagining ourselves riding an ostrich. Funny, when I was younger with Dan Fazekas in South Africa I wouldn't go near the idea, but now I was keen. Is this a case of maturity or regression? It was a mute point though. We stopped at Cango Ostrich Farm and were told we would surpass the weight limit of 75 kilograms. Besides, they said, tweather was too hot to ride an ostrich. Damn!

With time still left in the day, I asked Robyn and John if they minded a ride up to Swartberg Pass. I turned the red Corolla rental north again. John's head fell back first then Robyn's was flipping so much side to side I thought it would fall off. The road rose as I passed rabbit farms and camel rides. The upper reaches of mountains were rocky, the land beneath held farms with pretty Cape Dutch style houses. Ten kilometers to the pass the road turned gravel and both John and Robyn were then awake. To the east, bumps of mountains changed dark hues as the distance to them increased and the mountain road snaked upward and hung perilously on the exposed mountain ahead. A sigh reading "Die Top" at the top had us laughing but the view beyond to the north mesmerized - a deep orange gorge tickled the imagination to its mysteries within.

As I had drove up the scenic and sometimes steep and windy pass, I thought how biking down would be exciting. I had suggested more than once that the opportunity to mountain bike from the Swartberg Pass (1600m) to Oudtshoorn (300m) would be a wild time, but my companions didn't bite. The trip is a minimum of three hours excluding stops like at the Cango Caves, Rust en Vrede swimming hole, an Ostrich Farm, and a leopard and crocodile farm. It would have been a rush and is "on the list".

Our recent Dutch friends had often poked fun at the Afrikaans language, claiming redundant negatives in phrases and calling it the language of a five-year old. Perhaps I shouldn't have made a similar comparison of "Australia" to English, for wasn't humored and hopped into the drivers seat to fake abandoning us by driving twenty meters down the pass. So then she was driving and laughing at my shotgun footbreak as she drove down the gravel, winding slope. I never noticed my foot slamming the floor.

At Oasis backpacker Robyn, John, and I signed in advance for their nightly ostrich braii - ostrich steak, ostrich kebab, and ostrich boerwurst (sausage) - very nice.

Fr 12/3/99 - Yzerfontein, South Africa

The scenic drive back to the city along route Rxxx was worth the effort. The land was desolate and dry, isolated farmhouses were planted like magic oasis's land with little worth tilling. The towns were very pretty - Barrydale, Montagu, and Robertson, xxx - each anchored by a large, stout, and attractive old Cape church. Most homes in the towns, old and new, wore nicely manicured gardens.

We popped into Observatory to harass Rick into coming along for the weekend, to do email, and to wash Leatitia's car. Our car was even more of a mess - it was filthy, the speedometer stopped working just north of the N2 west of Knysna, a tire leaked air, the radio was useless, the highbeams shot up to the moon, and the bumper needed help. Popping the bottom of the plastic rear fender after bumping (Robyn's been using the term 'smashed') into a rock earlier in the day didn't help the poor red beast either.

We met the Basson sisters at their rented house in Goodwood near the N1. I hadn't seen Leatitia since early summer of 1998 and Seretta since the winter before. The twins are friends that worked with my boat partner Matt in Nantucket and New Jersey. They visited Newport many times and the four of us had great times on many weekends in Nantucket. The twins have a sister that could easily be confused as a triplet, Susari.

The Basson family have a very pretty and comfortable beach house opposite the cold Atlantic in Yzerfontaine, south of Langabaan, an hour from Cape Town. There we were to spend the weekend playing cards, reading, swimming in the nut chilling water, and simply chatting.

Sa 12/4/99 - Yzerfontein, South Africa

Robyn and I woke early to the gay sound of giggling from the sea - the Basson sisters swimming. I watched from the bedroom as John joined, then Robyn and I also partook in a skin tightening frigid plunge.

The house was great for lazying. There is an a large outdoor patio with soft cushioned PVC chairs around a similar white table with a fine view of the sea. The livingroom has a big stuffed couch where I was often found after nicking Suretta's Grisham xxx book for the weekend.

Around noontime Laetitia and Susari's roommate cute roommate Elanie and her friend Jock arrived. Now we have met the whole Goodwood clan (Laetitia, Susari, and Elanie) where we would later reside on and off.

Jock Story: On Jock's sixth skydiving jump, he mistakenly pulled the main chute tearaway instead of the student practice rip while spinning laterally and fell helplessly until a pressure sensor deploy his emergency chute. Because he was spinning he became tangled in the auxiliary and after panic, managed to free himself. The next issue was the lack of steerage with the round secondary (the main is square and can be steered by guidewires), so as he descended with rather fast forward velocity he took tally of the many possibilites to hit - power lines, phone poles, buildings, fences, and planes leaving and arriving the airport. Jock was near peeing himself, especially as he entered prison grounds nearby the airfield by sailing over a barbed wire fence and then nipping a corner of a building. He had had no instruction for this emergency chute, and so landed incorrectly and broke the fibula in his lower left leg. A temporary Cuban doctor at the local hospital insisted the leg wasn't broken and prescribed aspirin, but he insisted on an x-ray that proved otherwise. Besides this incident he has broken arms and legs seven times while skateboarding, playing rugby, and various other activities.

For dinner we braii of lamb chops and boerwurst courtesy of the Basson parents and played cardgames until late.

Su 12/5/99 - Cape Town (Tamboerskloof)

North of Yzerfontein is a popular action beachtown named Langabaan centered on a lagoon. This sunny summer Sunday Langabaan was happening. We sat on a restaurant deck overlooking the beach and lagoon where the girls met many acquaintances. The scene was good for a short while, so Robyn and I split to the beach for embarrassing play at Frisbee.

John, Robyn, and I drove into Cape Town. We booked dormitory beds at the Backpack next door to Zebra in Tamboerskloof on New Church Street. The Backpack is a more rowdy place, brightly painted, with a pool, bar, and built-in travel company. Most importantly, they have both a card phone which is a requirement to organize ourselves.

For dinner, after much indecision, we drew Chinese takeout from an inexpensive restaurant in Long Street.

Mo 12/6/99 - Cape Town (Tamboerskloof)

We spent another day doing errands about the City, nothing captivating happening. Xxxright??

I contacted Carolyn Kinross who buddied with John and I on crazy adventures during our last visit. We suggested a movie, Caroline choose James Bond, and the threesome met Caroline at a Waterfront theatre - inside the movie since Carolyn was her consistent late self. Of course it was great to see her again, John and Carolyn were all smiles, and afterward we sat upstairs for children's drinks.

Tu 12/7/99 - Cederberg Wilderness Area

Today was a day of reckoning for Robyn. Her main ATM account had run dry and her days of playing were numbered. Her choices now were to find work in Cape Town or to fly somewhere else to be employed. I wrongly teased her into joining us to the Cederberg, a park to the north, and she flexed under the better sounding taunt, but relented and decided to pursue employment.

Yesterday Robyn had bought makeup, a nice blouse and shoes, and today she looked great. We chauffeured Robyn to Seapoint to hit the various optometrists there, then onto Cavendish Square in Claremont. From there we wished her luck and started our trip to Cederberg, first stopping at Pik 'n' Pay on Main Road for three days of food (182 rand).

Our drive was 2.5 hours north on the N7 to Algeria, the main camping area in the Cederberg Wilderness Area. The scenery was typical for the west coast - hot and dry. We did pass farms, first wheat near Malmesbury and then citrus further north.

At the office in Alga very uninformative Afrikaans women suggested a couple of hikes, saying they were both good walks. John asked about a walk to a swimming hole and she offered Crystal Pools and again quickly said it was a good hike. She loaned a map to move us out the door and we were gone with plenty of questions yet asked.

(Other hikes of interest in the area: Maltese Cross, Wolfberg Arch, Wolfberg Cracks, water atop Algeria)

The main camp area in Algeria has fifty campsites and two cabins, south four kilometers are five more cabins. We had reserved ahead and by chance obtained an incredible cabin named "Prik" ("Prik party of two, Prik party of two...") for three nights at an unbelievable cost of 100 rand (US$17) per night (max. five people). The red-bricked cottage has a long veranda looking into the nearby mountains, a good sized living and kitchen area (sink, frig, cutlery), two bedrooms, and a toilet with shower. The cabin was attractive and neat and plenty of room for two. Outside, perpetual sprinklers sourced from a river watered bits of grass and some plants. We walked in circles around the pad and remarked at our good fortune, we had wished others joined us.

I crashed soon after arriving on couch cushions laid on the floor and woke two hours later to the sounds of John cooking pre-marinated lamb on the stove. With spiced rice, the lamb was great. In New Zealand and Australia, we ate lamb whenever possible. Afterward, we did a recognizance mission about the area by first following a signposted "pool" behind our bungalow. After nearly ten minutes of bashing through prickly and sharp overgrown bush we came across a small pool suitable for a naked dunk. The spot was also the source for water for the cabins. Below, on the road to our cabins drive, is a pool created by a short dam wall, but this seemed unsuitable considering it's location adjacent to the road.

We 12/8/99 - Cederberg Wilderness Area

We stuffed ourselves with rolled oat cereal, bananas, cold long life milk, and bread alternated with peanut butter and jam. The estimate for our hike to Crystal Pools was three and a half hours. We started walking directly from our cabin.

From 8am and for the next hour we ascended along a gorge in the shade. I carried the daypack with a one and a half liters of water, lunch, and my Nikon while John carried a similar waterbottle. We climbed quickly and after the nice hour in the shade spent the next two in the open sun with the air heating up. The western Cape is dry and hot, especially in the summer. Coming out of the shade we passed through Die Gat (The Cut) and around the southern side of Grootrandskop (1524m) then were happy to see a plateau area called Grootland. The Cederberg is made of eroded sandstone mountains lending interesting rock formations. Along with funky rocks piled one atop another, there were many fire dead cedar trees, gray from weather and twisted in vain to the sky. With recent rain, grasses were happily green and some yellow and purple flowers were out. In Grootland we had long vistas of this terrain, and once near the center there was a feeling of being within an amphitheater of sandstone mountains.

There weren't any signposts and we were armed with only the map. An obvious landmark of telephone poles running through this plateau only confused us - we didn't see them and so with uncertainty, we made our best guess. Another confusion was the many trails crossing this dry landscape, many more than on the map. A cabin named Sleepad was far up a mountainside to our south and this find did help with direction. We descended a short way, crossed over a pleasant clear stream and followed a contour along Froot-Hartseer before ascending it. We reached another flat area but by now we were beat from the heat and not happy about the distance.

We stopped, checked the map, and guessed we were near Crystal Pool and that Crystal Pool Hut was just atop a ridge. Still, we were uncertain where exactly, these (us) two bozos were. We slogged and sweated and griped up the ridge and once reaching the top after three hours of walking we were happy but disappointed because the expected hut was obviously not there. But the hut wasn't obvious, it was buried within rock for shelter. Our first reaction of relief at seeing Crystal Pool Hut turned to curious humor - the hut looked like it was built at the turn of the previous century. It was gray with tin roof and foreboding. There was one small window and inside was a plain hard mud floor with strawgrass strewn about. I read the graffiti dates - all within the last eight ears and had a hard time imagining someone would willingly spend a night.

But, at least we found a good landmark and so turned back toward Crystal Pool. We descended from the shabby hut and found the river and searched for the pool. The river was nothing more than a stream in this dry season and we tried hard to make it more than it was. We found a pleasant shaded spot under rocks for lunch beside the stream, then clambered over rock in search of the illusive pool. After a fun twenty minutes climbing and jumping the rock but without success, we made our way back to our start with the river and took turns sitting our bare butts in a bathtub sized pool of pollywogs and waterbugs. Because of the sun drenched heat even this disappointment was cherished.

The idea of the walk back to our cabin was repulsive. We were both exhausted after the fast paced three hours to the hut and stream. Even though we drank until our belly's were full, we were probably dehydrated and thus sore. From Crystal Pool to Grootland was a easy down and up. In Grootland, the amphitheater, we stopped amidst an area of flowers. I took two photos of John on the trail and then spun slowly to study the unusual landscape of sandstone rock hills and mountains before walking off again with eyes concentrating on the trail.

With the afternoon sun there was no shade. The air temperature was high without wind. Our feet felt swollen, our legs ached to the bone, and our mouths quickly went dry after drinking. As we started the forty-five minute descent toward the cabin my toes started jamming forward and soon afterward my knees ached. With this soreness I questioned my health and age, but forced myself into believing heat was the culprit. The more we hurt, the quicker we seemingly walked to finish the torture, which only made things worse. About twenty minutes before Prik Hut we stopped in the only shaded alcove, loosened out boots and I splashed water on my head from one of the two small trickles running passed. When I stood the stiffness had me walking like an actor from "Dawn of the Dead".

At the hut we raised our feet and munched on Ouma's muesli rusks with peanut butter and questioned our hike. Every movement hurt for the remainder of the night. Once satiated on snacks, we drove the four kilometers to the Algeria office and the camping area. There I called Egypt Air (still no payment on our Ticket Planet tickets from Cape Town to Zurich), and John called Laetita to plan the weekend. The camping area has a suitable sized dammed swimming hole and we wobbled into the cool and refreshing river water amidst frolicking kids and parents.

The evening was spent chewing on life's mysteries of women, marriage, and getting fat and old. I fried lemon and herb marinated lamb and heated cream corn. After dinner there was more chat about travelling and reminiscing over our adventures during the first eight months, and after laying our beds on the veranda in the cool air for the night we commented on the constellations, satellites, and shooting stars.

Th 12/9/99 - Cederberg Wilderness Area

Although we appreciated yesterday's trek and laughed about our soreness, we weren't eager to repeat the adventure and so opted for a leisurely day around a highly recommended waterhole called Malgat, meaning "whirlpool" and often confused with "maalgat" meaning "crazy ass". I could never get the pronunciation right, the best phonetic spelling may be "mulhut".

We drove 26 kilometers south along the dirt track to the very small village of Cederberg, east for a kilotoward Sandrif, over a river pad and right at a fork with a nondescript sign labeled "Malgat". We parked our red machine underneath a small stand of pines, and walked for twenty minutes through brush, over rocks, and came beside a river.

Further on we found the waterhole, a magnificent work of art by mother nature, a dream after yesterday's butt splashes at Crystal Pools. The ancient river cut a large gorge through sandstone ridden land and more recently the river cut and polished the stone to a more manageable size. A three meter waterfall amidst red and orange rock spilled into the open waterhole surrounded by jumps at a variety of heights. We confirmed the height of the highest jump by measuring seven body lengths - about twelve meters. The depth was beyond my reach. There were many shorter jumps also. Being the boys we are, this was the best amusement park. The sun cranked down most of the day and we found enough shade for lunch on a shelf just above water level. We spent six hours here horse around and watching others come and go.

A couple, Ian from Cape Town and Lucia from London, entertained us for hours. Lucia was frightened to jump and spent her time standing at the edge of a three meter jump shaking her fists and looking for courage only to walk away. This went on for hours, sometimes with Ian holding a camera to his eye, eventually she did jump and was ecstatic.

Mid-afternoon, an older man and four young boys visited. Two boys hadn't a problem in leaping from moderate heights, swimming and running around to laugh and repeat the process. The other two were very nervous. One of the first two and one from the second pair had a bet - if one jumped from twelve meters then the other must jump from eight, otherwise "five bucks" would benefit the single courageous one. John and I stood on the twelve meter cliff and prompted the boy into jumping. We promised him he wouldn't die, and he looked at us sideways and said "thanks", realizing we kiddingly meant he might only be hurt. The second daring boy joined us and said flatly he wouldn't do it. Twenty minutes later the uncle called from across the pool for the boys to leave and bang - they were both off without fanfare. I had jumped between the two and watched the second boy land pitched forward and I worried about his slapped face, but he came up holding his stomach and moaning. Soon he was laughing and very interested in hearing a description of how he splashed down. His comment, "I was falling forever!" By this time the first boy made the cliff for his money and yelled, "He said he wouldn't pay me!" We were all laughing.

Fr 12/10/99 - Cape Town (Tamboerskloof)

Xxxxx

Sa 12/11/99 - Cape Town (Goodwood)

John's only goals during his stay while in the Cape were to hike the Otter Trail and to kloof. We would have preferred Suicide Kloof but permits weren't available so we chose Steenbras (Kamikaze Canyon) - easy to access and without a manned gate.

Our crew today consisted of John, Robyn, Carolyn, Leatitia, Elanie, and Liz. Robyn met Liz, a chiropractor from California, at the Backpack in Cape Town during John and my adventure to the Cederberg. (In at 1045, out at 530p)

The mouth of the Steenbras River is just south of Strand (near Gordon' Bay) on the coastal route to Hermanus. Just north of the concrete bridge crossing the river is a parking area to the right. The walk down to the river reveals the most attractive view of the bridge, beneath is an ocean vista with waves crashing at the river mouth that slowly make their way upriver. We followed the obvious path, walked through a gate with a sign explaining the illicit activities such as bring dogs, hunting, entry without a permit, and so worth.

The kloof can start at a narrow, long, shaded section of river, but we had hiked only fifteen minutes, it didn't look relatively exciting (maybe we are wrong) and I didn't remember where it led to.

In an open area with a telltale large boulder to the right led to more satisfying hole with broad pitched rock on one side, and shorter jumps opposite, but again I was unsure and walked through alone while the others stayed on path. I had wished they came along for this section was good bushwhacking, rock clambering, and here I found myself soak straight through while trying to navigate small but deep pools. I suppose I worried most about the access to the hole, Elanie was slow and overly cautious walking down to the river on moderately steep rock. I thought time would be better spent at a larger hole and I also wished the others would enjoy themselves as much as possible.

The others were five minutes ahead of me. I found them at the first large pool of three, their togs strewn aside, laughing and splashing in the wonderful tannin water of the Steenbras. The pool was filled by a ten meter waterfall situated directly across the water. The fall of water glistened grasses that miraculously found route through the center of the falls. The breath of the falls told of times when larger quantities of water came pouring over. A lone cliff beckoned, an obvious jump hung high to the left of the falls, and off John and I ventured.

The draw to jumping from heights is two fold - either one challenges himself or enjoys the sensation of falling. To stand on a cliff edge and concentrate on the height and water below arouses full awareness. The complete sensation of fall through air can then be found.

John and I jumped from the ten meter cliff repeatedly, the others tempted fate from a lower perch.

Our route onward ignored the trail paralleling the river that winds through forest and over hills. We stayed in the river straight through to the top of gorge. Making the second large pool required rock hopping, wading, and bushbashing, but the rewards were well worth the effort. The second large pool is prettiest and most exciting, shaped in a high "U" of rock cliff topped by tress, and with some higher jumps. When people refer to jumps, it's normally those places were access is easiest, in actuality any spot one cares to access is a jump. But here, in the second large pool, the obvious jumps are in the right corner at about ten and thirteen meters. The access requires some hairy (for novices) rock climbing up a crack on the wall directly upstream. You then walk across the back of the "U", over the small waterfall (don't slip!), and to the a very high cliff, climbing down to meet these jumps. John and I were off the higher jump with some hesitation, but thrilled. (not sure what the girls did here)

Access to the next pool is via the same crack. The third and last large pool is immediately beyond and presents a nice lunch spot across a large slanted rock a meter and a half above the water. Here are the highest common jumps - 18 and 22 meters. Four years ago John, Caroline, and I jumped off the 18 meter cliff. I landed slightly sideways and suffered a two hour head ache. Caroline had a bad habit of jumping with legs apart and suffered a different malady.

We sat, ate, talked, and relaxing. The beauty of the canyon was obvious, I believe everyone was happy to have come along, even Elanie would was fearful of heights. We swam the pool to ascend a relatively gradual and wide polished cliff of light colored rock. The flow of water over this fall was seasonably low. In a few places John and I helped the girls where a long reach was needed. Halfway up the falls is a cool pothole, a place where a stone bored through the rock. The unusual aspect is that the stone still resides in the hole.

With more clambering and bushbashing we made a medium sized swimminghole with a very wide and steep rock across the pool leading upriver. Even after four years, the same sad tree is still attached to the rock and hanging into the pool. This is the start of the route up the steep ten meter cliff face.

Beyond, the last swimming hole awaits, smaller, bound by high sloping to the left, very high sheer rock and tricking water on the right. Between the two is a highlight of the trail - a narrow, plunging thirty meter waterfall that bored a one meter wide hole directly below, but higher ththe last swimming pool. The area is just magic!

Two days a week during the summer Abseil Africa brings clients up the kloof and spirits them on a very controlled abseil down the waterfall. We sat and watched them in action and talked with the photographer from New Zealand laying on his back and pointing a 200 mm Nikon into the action.

We relaxed, swam, jumped, and horse played in the last pool. The scenery was absolutely wonderful. Maybe the Steenbras is my favorite spot around Cape Town. Before starting down, one last thrill and that is to crest the sloped rock to see the ocean and Cape Point beyond. There could never be a good enough reason to leave such a great spot.

To bring the whole day to a climax means descending through these pools directly with little hesitation (see 12/17/99). This means jumping and swimming five or six times through each pool - what a feeling, what a ride!

Tonight John, Robyn, and I became residents of Goodwood at Leatita, Susari, and Elanie's small, single story, two bedroom house.

Su 12/12/99 - Cape Town (Goodwood)

The Basson women grew up with one brother on a farm in Malmesbury, a great wheat growing region one hour north of Cape Town. Since meeting Seretta three years ago, I have wanted to visit this South African Afrikaans farm, to meet the parents, and be shown what farm life is like. Additional, since becoming close friends with both Seretta and Leatitia over the last couple of years, I also eagerly anticipated seeing the stage that produced childhood stories.

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Mo 12/13/99 - Cape Town (Goodwood)

errands, Egypt air, curio browsing in Green Market Square, imax, "Extreme"

Kinross dinner, 7pm, monkeys - marmosets, braii food at Richards at 1030 left after midnight

Tu 12/14/99 - Cape Town (Goodwood)

A trip for John wouldn't be complete without a hike up Table Mountain, dominate physical feature of Cape Town and the Cape Peninsula. From any spot within many miles of the city this magnificent mountain cane be seen. It's huge, as if an 8,000 meter peak was lopped at 1,000 meters and left flat on top. There are nearly an infinite number of route options for walking on the mountain and each is different.

I had picked up a book on the best hikes on the peninsula and the Right Face - Arrow Face Transverse stuck out for it's hairiness. It is billed as one of the most difficult hikes on the mountain and we found warnings everywhere - in the book, on the contour map, and on the mountain. The real appeal were narrow cliff edges and lots of exposure, a near technical climb for the steep cliff faces that require clambering

John, Robyn, Alexandra, and I started the walk late. By 9:30 am the summer heat was already oppressive, I believe we all had misgivings about the climb, but with John leaving in two days, we were running out of time.

We paid for our tardiness and sweat to a drench immediately. The climb for the first hour was laborious and hot. We occasionally hide in the rare shadows of rocks. There were a couple of fun clambers and then under the cable car a junction to the transverse and around to Fountain Ledge and to the top. The highlights were on the transverse, two rock squeezes through the mountain and very exposed ledges - 100 meters down - overlooking Lion's Head, Signal Hill, and the city below. The cool rock and air of the shadowed ledges made the torture of the Cape Town summer worthwhile. Here we sat and ate biltong, rusks, and fruit cake from Wooly's.

While walking near African Ledge the noon cannon from Signal Hill reverberated through our side of Table Mountain, John early lost his foting from the unexpected blast.

We returned to the junction, crossed beneath the able car, and rounded the corner of the Western Table into Fountain Ledge. The mountainside was alive with yellow, pink, and purple flowers. Above, a few empty climbing ropes swung softly, the location of a commercial adrenaline abseil company. The walk was simple and easy to near the top of Plattklip Gorge and then across to the cafeteria near the upper cable car station.

After drowning ourselves in drinks, we descended the mountain through the steep Plattklip Gorge, an endless staircase of long rock steps. John and I moved ahead of the girls, and because John was at my heels, we started running down at a pace to fast for our geriatric age but without incident. We waited near a trickle of a stream for the girls, striped to just short and played in the water to cool my feet and soak my hair, body, and shorts.

A group of six Cape Colored stopped, three couples that John and I had passed, and we joked and talked with them while waiting. They reminded me of all the improperly prepared people on these trails, people in sneakers and without socks, a guy with long black pants, an old overweight man, and so on. These people were nuts, the steepness requires fitness, the heat proper protection and water, the weather precautionary forethought.

The girls strolled up, still in constant chatter, an stopped for a rest. We chose the contour path back to the our original trail under the cable car rather than continuing down to Tafelberg Road, a more pleasant and quicker option.

swim at Alexandra’s

xxxx

We 12/15/99 - Cape Town (Goodwood)

John's last request

kloofing with John, Robyn, Gail, Yvonne. John and I concentrated on Gail the most adventurous of the three. Gail and Ivonne split earlier, walked out, the three came back through kloof

Blue Peter with Laetitia, Susari, Elanie, Table View

Th 12/16/99 - Cape Town (Camps Bay)

Reconciliation Day

John gone

Clifton 3rd, babes got John thinking hard of working here, Le Med, mad dash for flight, boo hoo

moved into backpacker in Camp's Bay called Anamasz - describe, Allan

cooked at Anamasz, drove below to Camp's Bay, bought ice cream, ate on Chapman's Peak Drive

Fr 12/17/99 - Cape Town (Camps Bay)

errands, email (R7.50/15 min), looked for Santa Claus hat, hat, t-shirt

Cavendish Square, Robyn had interview for optician position, got it

ate in Cavendish Square

"Runaway Bride", Richard Grier and xxx

Sa 12/18/99 - Cape Town (Camps Bay)

Sandy Bay, nude beach filling with fat old men and gay guys. entertaining, tried to sleep, Robyn kept saying, "Bob! Look at that!" - chick with rear up in the air (prostrate check), two guys didn't look, guy with rod

met up with Clair, sister Bloss, and husband Wojtek at Bloss and Wojtek's home in Scarborough. know Bloss ...., ate dinner there

Su 12/19/99 - Cape Town (Camps Bay)

kloofing Steenbras with Gail xxx and company (size total, part-time roommate Nicci, xxx, two from Johannesburg (including Matthew)

Su 11/19/99 Nepal silver ring lost up Steeenbras Kloof

Su 11/19/99 Hat lost going down Steenbras Kloof

ate at Gail and Nicci's housesit

----xxx----foods-end

South Africa's greatest foods: boerwurst, biltong, rusks, wine, Spar muesli, Appletizer and Grapetiezer, and varied fruit juices.

Like cereals at home, one can't help but study the Ouma's Rusks box (muesli, of course). Ouma is shown on the front, sides, and back, an old Afrikaans woman bearing apron and toothy smile happily removing fresh rusks straight from the oven. But the box side with a touching history is most humorous,

"It all began in 1933, the year when the Great Drought touched the very heart of our nation.

In the tiny town of Molteno, in the heart of the Karoo, the local pastor hoped to lift the spirits of the women in his congregation by giving them each a half-crown.

With tears in her eyes, Ouma Greyvensteyn was determined to put this gift of generosity to good use.

That very same day, Ouma baked her rusks to sheer perfection and sold them to visiting farmers' wives. Within days, orders for Ouma's delicious rusks were pouring in.

So, it was from one-half crown, a unique rusk recipe, and dynamic baking talents, that Ouma's reputation as South African's most famous baker was founded. Ouma, on behalf of all your fans we would like to thank you, you've made us all proud, proud of our heritage, proud to be South African.

Baked from Ouma"s original homestyle recipe, Muesli rusks are a delicious and crunchy snack. Ouma's Muelsi rusks are always an ideal treat for anyone, and can be served anytime of the day - morning, noon, or night."

-end