To Arniston With A Surfboard

March 21, 2019 Posted in Review / Travel / The Honey Badger Diaries

The Southern Cape must boast the best weather. Autumn has come early this year; I can’t remember ever experiencing three weeks of inclement weather in February/March. We packed up our Honey Badger in the hope of sunshine and perfect waves.

Arniston is a gem. As a young girl, we used to go there frequently, creating lasting memories. I remember a photograph of myself walking up the stairs from the beach, bikini-clad, with the best tan I’ve ever had. A lot of hard work went into my tans in those days. You'll know Arniston from the paintings and pictures lining the walls of many South African homes, which still bring a sense of familiarity and nostalgia.

Arniston has changed, but hasn’t... It still has that small fishing village feel, and the harbour with the colourful fishing vessels remains just as it was all those years ago. The Hotel has been updated; it’s all dolled up. A 1960s beachfront hotel with aluminium windows. While some may find it uninspiring, it's still popular with tourists and visitors, which makes me grateful for its enduring charm. The full parking area and the veranda, chock-a-block on Sunday morning, show how much people still love this place.

We, the usual suspects, with additional friends and children, went to the Arniston campsite. No reservations required. Large, spacious sites with electricity and water laid on. Each block is neatly sectioned with high indigenous hedging for extra privacy, which also acts as a windbreak.

The ablutions are near enough, but we found the key system a little confusing. Campers pay a deposit for a key and then have the unfettered use of an ablution. Sue, the camp commandant, was most put out when she arrived to do her evening ablutions to find a middle-aged couple had literally parked on the doorstep and had set up camp in the ablutions, going as far as draping their facecloths over the edge of the hand basin and popping their toothbrushes into glasses on the edge, with other paraphernalia lining the windowsills. They didn't linger, and we heard them putter off early on Saturday morning.

Early on Saturday morning, before the mist had lifted, I heard the boys scratching around, collecting their fishing rods and tackle boxes. While I brewed coffee, they inspected the bait. They were geared to get the big one. We’d see them later when we took to the road on our morning walk of discovery.

Anglers dotted the clifftops and beaches, each with his preferred array of rods, reels, and bait; we even spotted a large silver fish being hauled in from the waves. Neighbouring lines were watched closely as hopes rose. Fish were feeding.

If you know Arniston, you’d recognize the old family homes along the mainland edge. These have been renovated, but many still retain their Cape vernacular charm, with interesting gates, names, and roofs that tell stories of the town's history.

The strumming of a guitar drew me closer to inspect one small cottage as the soulful tune transported me, but I soon smiled when I saw the guitarist sitting inside on his wrought-iron cot, gently picking the chords on his electric guitar. He smiled when he noticed me, but I didn’t want to disturb him and soon hurried off.

Children love playing on the beach, and on a warm but cloudy day there couldn’t be anything better, as children of all ages and sizes surfed or took on a body board, built sandcastles, turned into mermaids, played beach cricket or went exploring in the rock pools. The days were still long, and the warm air from the sea kept beachgoers happy for hours. Sue and I even indulged in an ice cream from a truck.

Once again, our meals were Gourmet, with Percy whetting our taste buds with the sauté of onions and garlic as he prepared Percy’s Perfect Pasta Pot. His Lasagne. A hit. Tummies rumbled after all the exercise on Saturday; although the fishing produced nothing, we were treated to superb Pizzas from Spuy’s kitchen. Butch and I were fascinated and learned a few new tricks for next time. I will invest in a clay tile for crispy pizza bases. On Saturday evening, after a day on the beach, we all needed a typical Braai Broodjie and chop (tjoppie), which Butch braaied perfectly.

Sunday was a lazy day with coffee and Hot Cross buns; the boys went fishing again, this time with different bait; the old timers leisurely started packing up. Billy had arrived; he knows fishing, and his worms always hook a big one.

At noon the boys arrived, and we all went for lunch at Willeen's for a traditional fish ‘n chips. On the menu: Cape Salmon. Need I say more? We were sold. The enigmatic server was a character and didn’t mince her words as she ordered us about in her local patois. Willeen knows how to prepare fish; after all, she’s a local lady and preparing seafood must be second nature.

The calamari, pickled fish and Billy’s tomato bredie looked and tasted divine. Our meal was a glorious affair with much laughter and a long quiet spell as we all tucked in. Percy indulged in his favourite Malva Pudding and custard and rolled his eyes in delight. Although it was a little dry, I enjoyed my chocolate cake too.

The very serious game of marbles took us all out to the backyard where the best of five was played. I don’t remember who the ultimate winner was; I think it must’ve been Zondag. It was nice to see children still play the old-fashioned games; even the old boys knew all the tricks.

Every weekend away has a highlight: the official handing over of the Barend surfboard, handcrafted by Jaco in his basement in Canada during the last long, cold winter for his friend Spuy, did it for me. It was wonderful to see two school friends rekindle their friendship, and the joy of giving and receiving something so personal was heartwarming. The board is a masterpiece: slick, smooth, almost paper-thin and light as a feather. The personalized depiction of “Speedy’s Green Bakkie” is a visual reminder of their wonder years. Well done, Jaco; you created a beautiful bit of functional art and took bespoke up a notch.