27 -28 March 2010:
Into the bush:
5:30 a.m. wake-up call. 6 a.m. departure for game viewing.
Upon return, “the full African breakfast “ in the quite English dining room of the Long Lee Lodge, built nearly a century ago -- sausage, scrambled eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes, muffins, toast, fresh fruit, coffee, juice.
High noon – risky for a pale North American, but I’m in the pool and by it sunning. Others are bundled up and in the shade. I have a swim, and then someone comes from the spa. They are ready for me.
A nice warm shower, and then an hour-long aromamatherapy gentle massage, followed by a careful pedicure. SO relaxing. By this time it’s 2:45 p.m.
A visit to the small gift shop to buy the first postcards of my trip and beautiful stamps, then, since I missed lunch, I can really take advantage of “tea time.” Sandwiches, fresh lemonade, quiche…Then off to the second game drive of the day. Pirro, our guide, is determined to see cheetahs this time. But first – elephants! Followed by the first baboons I have ever seen in the wild (too distant for a photo, alas), a brief glance of a giraffe’s head above the trees, and then a white rhino family – mum, toddler, baby. They emerged from a water hole and right onto the dirt road ahead of us. Where they stayed. So we followed, very slowly. Eventually, the matriarch took a gigantic dump, but they still kept weaving into the road. So, this was our longest single wildlife sighting till they lumbered off to the right. Then it was back to cheetah hunting. Eventually, we were successful, finding two brothers happily lounging in tall grass. Later, Pirro said he had to intervene when these two were attacking a female more recently introduced to the reserve. He said he got out of his guest-filled Land Rover and threw rocks at the two, then radioed for Conservation people to come assist the wounded female. She was tranquilized and taken to a veterinarian, later released into a distant part of the 25-hectacre reserve, started by a Port Elizabeth businessman who bought up local failing farms to create the private reserve called Shamwari. Wild animals once were plentiful here, but most were killed by hunters. Now they are gradually re-introduced. Pirro says most of the animals come from the huge Kruger Park, where, among others there is a surplus of elephants. Shamwari is beautifully maintained, absolutely no trash or litter anywhere. There are five lodges on the property, varying in style. The half-price deal is at the Long Lee. With two pools and a spa, I felt very colonial on this stop, my splurge of the four weeks, even at “half-price.” Framed photos in the front hall of the founder with Margaret Thatcher and Ian Fischer added to that ambiance.
Tonight, we had a braai, a barbecue in the barn, and nearly a full moon. We observed earth hour, dining by candlelight. Last night, it was only the guide and me. We returned with lightning crackling in the distance, dark sky where it was raining, and fierce winds. Sharp rain hit us near the lodge. Tonight, we ended our sojourn (by now our group included an older couple from England and a young couple from New London, South Africa) at a high lookout point at sunset, with wine and snacks provided. Excellent!!
On the way back, a fast-moving warthog sped across the road in front of us, followed by a female harte-beast (I think – some kind of deer-like animal, anyway).
And now, more eating and drinking…ah, the well-heeled safari life.
Sunday morning – the two couples on the team decided to sleep in, so once more I had a private trip, just Pirro and me. This time, we found a male lion enjoying the early morning sun.
The Garden Route: Beautiful Beaches
Then it was off by car on the Garden Route. Did I mention that I inadvertently rented a car with no air conditioning or power anything (windows, brakes, steering)? And that it is a stick shift, which I’ve also learned how to do on the left, having no choice, actually. I said I wanted a cheap car, and, by gosh, I got it – it’s a little Kia. The Garden Route mostly hugs the Indian Ocean coast. It has stunning scenery, somewhat reminiscent of Highway One in California between Monterey and Santa Barbara (where I first learned to drive a manual in my cousin Rick’s 1939 Chevy many years ago). On my next trip, I’d like to hike in one or more of the wilderness areas or national reserves and parks accessible from the N2 highway. I drove into the town of Plettenberg Bay, a beach resort town. Knysna and Wilderness have lovely white sand beaches and dense forests north of the coastline. Right after Wilderness, the N2 climbs a big hill with a dramatic bridge and then the scenery changes abruptly in the town of George, far fewer trees, but good for golf, I’m told, with mountains in the distance. For some reason, as I kept driving and it turned toward sunset, I had one of the few panicky moments of my trip, since I had no reservation for the night and no one knew where I was. Eventually, I found a Protea hotel, a chain whose hotels are different in each location (and also range in number of stars and price), where I knew I would be safe. The other guests I saw here seemed to be Afrikaans families on holiday.
29 March, Monday
My next stop was Mossel Bay, also a beautiful beach community, where I visited a crafts store and heard the sad story from the clerk Roland about his visit to China nearly two decades ago to study Chinese medicine and martial arts. He became engaged to a Chinese woman and agreed to stay there since she did not want to leave her family. The affair ended badly, however, after she became pregnant by another man and broke their engagement. Even though this happened in the last century, it seems he has never gotten over it, never married.
From there, I headed inland toward the wine country, since I was due to give a talk at Stellenbosch University at 9 a.m. Tuesday morning. I was a bit tired of driving and looking into the bright hot sun (heading west). The scenery changed again in wine country, jagged mountain peaks and vineyards on the lower slopes, much greener but not particularly cooler. I found a guesthouse I thought would be peaceful in Stellenbosch, but, even though it was a Monday evening, there was some sort of live music concert or bar (never found out) with a loud bass and noisy clapping till at least 11 p.m. This did not help me have a restful night’s sleep, and, even though I got up in plenty of time, I could not reach the school or the woman named Elizabeth who was supposed to give me precise directions, so, instead I got directions like, “look for the chicken place” which was not helpful on a busy rush-hour morning. So, alas and embarrassingly, I was late. Both sides should have made sure I had explicit directions, including street names, because the precise destination was off a main street and not at all clear to me as a first-time visitor. After I eventually arrived, however, I thought the talk – to “honors” graduates of three-year undergraduate programs in a variety of fields now spending this special fourth year studying journalism – went reasonably well. At the end, I was presented with a 200-rand gift certificate to Exclusive Books.
My friend Chris Sherman, a food and wine expert, had recommended I visit the town of Franschoek, settled by French Huguenots . It IS beautiful and the road passed big estates with horses as well as vineyards. The town, alas, has been discovered by the tour buses and seemed touristy to me. Plus, like lots of areas expected to draw World Cup visitors, there is much construction going on, so I had lunch (outside) to the sounds of hammering and big trucks entering a site where another bunch of boutiques will be. So, then, on to Cape Town, my last stop of this adventure.
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