The WILD COAST

After staying at the Drakensburg hostel for four nights, we were definitely ready to leave the place and were sick of some of the corrupt management staff. We met a couple from our hostel that had intended to head on the Lesotho tour, but similar to us, they cancelled due to the poor organization and late start. They were also kind of p’d off at the hostel we had been with and decided not to give them any more money...so they hitched a ride with us to Pietermaritzburg. They were great to have with us, but it made our miniature vehicle a little over stuffed...too many people not to mention that the trunk is only large enough to hold two knapsacks.
Despite being cramped this couple had traveled all of the countries we were destined to head to and so we were able to extract a lot of very valuable information from them.

#9) Although this is not directly about SA or it’s people, one great thing about discussing travel plans with people at the hostels is that most of them have traveled all of the country or at least countries or places you are headed. Not everyone is the same and may like different things, but you can get invaluable information just by opening your mouth and making an effort to talk...and most are more than willing to talk because it is kind of like bragging to talk all about the places you have been. Come on it is so true – isn’t it?!?

Like always, we are planning out our next destination on the road. The GPS is great for this because when we are torn between numerous places, we just type there name in the GPS and find out the estimated time of arrival. We were stuck between Coffee Bay and Port St. John’s. We knew that we had to exit from the highway an hour or so before dark because the roads off the highway were supposed to be bad. (Okay side note - the Wild Coast is named as it is because during the Apartheid era, this area of SA was destined as the ‘homelands’ (second side note – the homelands were the areas where the black people were forced to relocate to unless you had work accommodations within the other territories) and remained very rural because of this fact.) The roads to the Coast in this area look like a comb. There is one major highway running North East to South West and there are roads running perpendicular to the coast to access each town (mentioned this earlier). The main highway is good but the perpendicular roads are in rough shape....really rough shape. So after looking at the GPs we decided that Coffee Bay was out of our reach and so we headed to Port St. John’s.

Well that was not a bad thing. Coast to Coast and Alternative Route (backpackers’s bibles in SA) both highly regarded this area and a couple of great hostels. We exited the main highway and weren’t sure how bad the roads were going to be. About thirty kilometres onto the perp road down to the coast things got interesting. The potholes started increasing in size and multiplying like rabbits. If that wasn’t bad enough, the shoulder disappeared and resembled what an ant would call a cliff (about eight inches in some places). Well the cliffs weren’t that forgiving to the midget car. Somehow one of the wheels managed to get a little close to the shoulder...things happened so fast we are not sure what went on. Because of the rather ridiculous size of the wheels it was not possible to pull the car back onto the road. So here we are, driving along a major highway (or at least enough traffic for Saskatchewan standards to be called one) with two wheels on the pavement and the other two wheels in the ditch (I have to note that Katie was doing a pretty admirable job driving at this point despite her high stress levels) and could hear the rims just smacking pavement as we tried to pull back up. We stopped the car and you could just tell something was wrong. Well sure enough, the tire was off the rim and we were right beside a rural village. To tell the truth, we were a little scared. However, another spurt of good luck came about. Although, a number of bystanders were laughing at what they had just witnessed, a very nice group of locals (four) came over and immediately asked us if we had a spare. Without even asking, they grabbed the jack grabbed the spare tire and went to work. Within ten minutes the new tire was on and we were back on the road. Although, we had felt scared at first, these locals (probably 22-26 years of age) had made us feel so comfortable and we were overtaken by feelings of joy because things could have been much different...or at least we had envisioned so in our minds. We tipped them 200 rands (about 30 Canadian dollars) which also increased our joy as we witnessed their happiness with what we thought was a well deserved tip.

The roads did not get any better from there but the scenery sure did. Wow!!!!!!! All of our talk about how nice the country is nothing compared to this place. There is no place that I have ever seen that is quite like it here. In addition, the villages here seem much better kept. Each house has its own farm and the buildings are not dilapidated but well standing. We felt much safer here despite the warnings of crime. We felt so blessed of our surroundings that we even stopped along the highway and snagged a few pictures of the villages in the mass of hills and valleys. It truly is as they say ‘rural Africa’. We were even happier when we arrived at our destination and were greeted by a very relaxed Rastafarian who showed us the grounds. We inquired about the sights of the area with our new found knowledge (the ‘knowledge’ is explained in the next tip).

#10) This tip comes from experience. When you arrive at a place it is always best to get every detail down to the last point. Now this might sound anal but after our incidents at our last hostel (mainly fine details about prices) we were not interested in having to pay more than we had originally been informed. At Drakensburg we had been so excited about what we could do that we did not pry enough into how the prices worked. Well, we thought we had but there was all these hidden details that could not be seen without looking really hard. Example 1 they told us that we would only pay 440 Rands for all of our tours if we did enough of them, but in the end, the prices were not what we had been told. And supposedly, we did not ‘do enough’ and the prices had recently ‘been increased’. So when looking for tours it is almost better to sort out and PAY your bills first and do the tours second. That way they can’t get more money out of you after.

Anyways we were told that we could spend a days with one of the locals in his village. It sounded simple and so we signed up.

We headed to the bar to get a Savannah Dry (one of the best Ciders and a local South African favourite) and enjoyed a meal on Valentine’s Day (Happy Belated Saint Valentine’s day to all of you (pronounced Sant Valen-in teen by our French neighbours)). We were also fortunate to see some South African drumming accompanied by three young girls doing Khosa (pronounced with a clicking noise – very difficult) hip hop style dancing. They had invited any one up for lessons and I prodded Katie to go but she was not interested...BUT, by chance, we had spoken with the drummer earlier and therefore he knew us a tinsy bit and so he literally dragged Katie on stage to imitate what the girl named Africa (Afree-kah) was doing. Then to my surprise after she had finished he dragged me on stage to dance with an eight year old named Jessieto (Jesse 2) . It was a lot of fun but really really hard and tiring in the heat. We can show you the videos later if you want.

The next morning we went on our village tour. Our guide JJ drove us part of the way to his village of Pondu people (Khosa speaking) where we continued on foot. Our parking spot was right in front of a beach and we began our village journey from the most beautiful deserted beach. The only creatures using the beach was a herd of cattle. The apparently smart creatures head to the beach after feeding to escape the ticks and heat. When really hot, they venture into the ocean which also helps to remove the ticks. We didn’t believe it but they will stay there all day. These photos of the cows on the beach are one of our favourites!

We hiked up a small mountain (okay hill) and walked into the Pondu village, where the hillsides were littered with small cottages with no running water and electricity. We made our way to the farthest point of the village to the guide’s home to discover that he had the best plot of land in the village (hillside home overlooking the jungle and beach). We were treated with fresh mussels (literally picked from the water ten minutes earlier) and the best beans mixture ever! While waiting for our meals, we had ventured around and discovered that the villagers truly have very few material possessions. However, this does not seem to bother them at all as they were very pleasant and free spirited people. After enjoying JJ and his mothers company, we purchased a dozen corn, pumpkin leaves?? and half a pumpkin and headed on our way to meet his brother a Sanjoma (medicine man who earned this title because he was very sick when he was young and the only way to cure him was to devote his life to the same type of medicine that had healed him). We spent nearly two hours in the hut drinking beer with Zulu (name of the Sanjoma) and two other locals. It was quite a neat experience and for our thousand questions, we traded a packet of Gaviscon, two rounds of beers and my engineering ring (gift to Sanjoma) which miraculously fit his finger (don’t think I have to worry about any lawsuits as I don’t think he will take to practicing any engineering). We also tried a brew of Maize beer named something I couldn’t pronounce let alone spell but for a guess kumbota (clicking noise at the ota part) – Katie found it disgusting and let’s just say I wouldn’t order it in a restaurant if I had the opportunity again!
We left the village full and headed to a local mud cave with JJ where he preceded to cover our faces with a healing mud dug by people who had traveled far distances for the medicinal purposes of the clay and water which rises from the ground. This was something that was NOT in the travel books. Not only did we get covered in mud, we also got to taste some of the water rising from the ground (definitely not recommended in any travel book or Canadian Health Guide but we did it) and soaked our feet for a in healing waters. The water smelt like rotten eggs and tasted salty and might have been connected to the water where we soaked our feet???

From the Sinoko mud cave we took JJ home (or his second home when working in town) and got the closest we have ever been to a township while feeling one hundred and twenty percent safe – we sat in admiration at how nice the people were to two tourists with faces covered in mud (wow did we look ridiculous but people just understood). The day was different...but great and JJ truly appreciated the tips we dolled out to his family and himself and so he offered to take us free of charge to a lookout point over Port St. John’s the following morning.

It is interesting to note that as I (Jeremy) am writing this, there is a very intoxicated East Indian man from Durban who approached me preaching about his conversion from Hinduism to Christianity while wearing nothing more than underwear that looked like a Speedo and then continued to tell me he has visions and that I (me) had a problem with my shoulder in the past. He continued to tell me that I am a self contained individual who will have something come back to me which is good. This led into his journey with God to visit the devil and how Nelson Mandela really wasn’t a good leader and that I should not visit King Tutankhamen’s tomb in Egypt. I am not mocking this man but thought it was interesting and that people should know these are the great and interesting people that you get to meet while in Backpacker’s accommodations. Not to mention the French couple who just went for their evening skinny dip in a foot deep pool of green water just a corner away from where I am. Crazy but loving it.

From Port St Johns, we headed to Coffee Bay but first had plans to stop in the city of Mtatha to check out the Nelson Mandela Museum (which was incredibly informative!) and also replace our flat spare tire. Apparently, no one in SA carries Good Year tires except AVIS so we ended up having to come clean at AVIS and buy a new tire from them (it cost slightly more than ~700 Rands - i.e. $100 for a basketball tire) but they actually switched our vehicles for us. So, instead of our silver color, we are now sporting a red Atos (I (Katie) think they only did this because when they looked at the vehicle, they noticed the high kilometres and immediately said, “Needs Maintenance”. The manager on duty at AVIS was awesome and we asked him how he likes Mtathta – he doesn’t. Since he moved here from Durban 3 years ago, he has been robbed two times (and he doesn’t have insurance) and once so bad that him and his wife were actually tied up for over 2 hours while the intruders stole everything his family ever owned – I asked him what has changed since it has now been a year since his last break in and he informed me that it is his two Siberian Dogs that you basically don’t want to mess with.

Tip 11) SA roads are sooo horrible! Jeremy and I joke that on the really bad ones, the bribes for the `passing` compaction tests are at their highest. Potholes are a very common thing and at our last hostel, we met a French couple (whom were quite arrogant and repeatedly told us that Canada only consisted of Quebec which therefore meant that for the rest of us, we are nothing but pompous Americans – Hmm...who knew huh?!?) who had blown their tire as a result of a really bad and deep pot hole. On the roads that get a lot of truck traffic, the road ahead always reminds us of a continuous sin wave – I don’t know if it is best to go really fast over the `wave` and try and miss as many bumps as possible or go really slow but then probably screw our shocks and suspensions – these are questions we are always faced with day in and day out. Our favourite roads to drive are the ones that have a `T` on the signs, this means they are tolls, and although you have to pay to use them (ranges from 30 Rands to 120 Rands) they are usually double lane and are the most beautiful and carefree roads (free of potholes but not of animals and people).

Going back to our story – the spare tire was essential for our trip to Coffee Bay as the roads are notorious for potholes. Potholes were definitely an understatement – we had 50km to drive and we arrived 1 hour and 45 minutes later – I don’t think I need to explain any more than this. We are trying to figure out how to post our videos and if we do, we have filmed some of this section of road and all I can say is you need to watch it. Seriously, every car in either direction is utilizing the entire road (even ditches) driving no more than 20km/hr (with the exception of the crazy mini busses that fly past you). Jeremy was driving at this point (my self confidence was still blown from the last incident with the popped tire) and we joked that he was playing a video game because all he was doing was swerving (although he did do an excellent job of swerving). Diana (and Colin), I think if you moved to SA, you would be set for life with your road restoration knowledge – the sad thing is, if they don’t fix these roads before June 2010 for the World Cup, what are the chances that they would ever fix them again - ???

We arrived in Coffee Bay and quickly got settled in; our hostel was the cheapest we have stayed in yet (200 Rands) but after heading to the kitchen to cook supper, we quickly discovered why. The kitchen was disgusting and had a small fridge complete with one (cold water only) leaky tap. No one around us must have had mothers that taught them to clean up after themselves (so thanks to our moms and dads!!!) as there were dishes and perishable food items rotting everywhere. Despite this bomb field in the kitchen, we still managed to cook; we just made sure that we cooked enough to have lots of leftovers. The next day, we signed up with the hostel for a hike to the infamous ``Hole in the Wall``. There were 6 of us in total: a German and SA native couple named Thomas and Lee, a German girl named Ma Dina, our SA native guide named `Lucky` Luke and Jeremy and I. Our guide informed us that we would be back in no time (i.e. back no later than 3:30pm). We left at 11am, so you can understand our surprise when we arrived at the hole at 2:30, a mere 3 1/2 hours later. By the time that we had taken pictures and swam in the ocean, our tummy`s were grumbling – no one other than Ma Dina packed snacks for the road. So, we stopped for a quick bite to eat of Fish n Chips (but it was not quick...in fact, I think they were on Mexico time) and made our long trek back home at 4pm. We walked a different route back to our hostel (along the village roads) but after an hour ++ of walking in our wet clothes (no one thought to bring a bathing suit) we hitched a ride with an American – YAH!! This leads to tip No. 12. But before that I should say that the hole in the hole was very neat. It was as if a donut shaped mountain (half eaten) had fallen from the sky and landed in the middle of the ocean. It was only a pity that we couldn`t get closer to it as the waters were surely infested with sharks (jk but I think there are sharks everywhere in these waters).

12) No one in SA really knows anything about Canada. They know that it is really far away and that it is very very cold but we are generalized as American`s. Lee repeatedly asked us if Canada was part of the United States...we laughed and told her that no, we are (despite some really naive French people) our own Country and she couldn’t believe this. She then went on to ask that although we may be different countries, we still share Barrack Obama – right? We thought we had set her straight but the following day she asked us again if we were part of the US – haha...I guess a lost cause, but in her defence (and SA`s defence) we really do not know a great deal about their tribes and their history etc. (unless your name is Adam Heisler).

We arrived at our hostel just after 6pm and Jeremy and I headed across the road to a store called ``AFFRITUDE``. We loved, LOVED their product and bought a couple of pre made t-shirts and then got a few of our own t-shirts with their own decals painted/died on to them – very cool experience to see. An hour later, we parted ways...but not before we snapped some photos to remember this place.

We ate our leftovers with our new found friends from the day`s hike (they purchased their meals from the hostel kitchen as they were not up for cooking in the kitchen – hmm...go figure!) and swapped information about our SA experiences. The hostel actually was featuring live entertainment – dancing and singing. The young girls were performing traditional Khosa Dancing topless and with miniskirts (which can only be done if the girls are virgins). The manager at the hostel informed us that this is a great way to help reduce the spread of HIV as it encourages the young girls to be active in their culture and not encourage pre marital sex.

This dancing was followed by the `BOMVO (pronounced BOM-VU) Tribal Rythm Group` consisting of the owner and other workers and was a mixture of classical African drumming, acoustic guitar and reggae.

Our new friends convinced us to stay for YOGA on the beach the following morning – I was very reluctant but thought what better time to try YOGA then on a beach in South Africa. After ten minutes, I confirmed my opinion that Yoga is not my forte. Our instructor was also a little crazy – she was telling us to `make love` to the earth and at one point, she even used the word `hump` - haha!! She finished off her session by showing off her moves...so then I showed off some of mine too – I mean really, no one is going to tell us not to try and to do what she is doing, especially when I am an ex-gymnast.

We parted ways with our new found friends but first swapped last names with each other so we could remain friends through facebook and email. Jeremy got behind the wheel and we headed to Port Elizabeth...but first we had to get out of pot hole country.