Whether we can, Weather we can’t!

Our little holiday depended on weather conditions. Where are the days when we could determine weather conditions by experiencing the day, e.g.putting your head out the door, or feeling inclement weather in your bones,watching a mountaintop being covered by a cloudy cloth used to be a good indicator of wind?We knew when the wind was blowing like the clappers at Bikini Beach just by looking at the tumbling clouds cascading over the Helderberg. Not today. Now it’s all about the App. and following trends like sheep.

And God forbid you to dare question weatherman Pete or YR or Accu weather. That’s why we couldn’t possibly cycle on Saturday morning; a fresh breeze had been predicted. Sticking a wet forefinger into the air doesn’t count for anything anymore. 

For your information: Wind, it appears, is measured in meters per second. (knots are only used on ships) 7.9/s -10.8m/s = fresh breeze. 10.8m/s-17.2m/s = strong breeze to a near gale, and over 17.2m/s could be a gale force wind up to Hurricane. The arrow shows the wind direction.

Unfortunately, we didn’t explore Bushman’s Valley campsite and only spent one night there. I believe there are lovely hikes into the mountains. It’s an easy ride into Prince Albert on a fine day, BUT the wifi reception is almost non-existent, especially when there’s load shedding. (our experience)

The Springboks were playing their first test match against the Welsh touring team, and we would watch the game come hell or high water.  There was an Arctic chill in the truck...

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We are taking our time and no longer driving miles and miles chasing the sun. After a leisurely coffee, we packed up and trundled into trendy Prince Albert to stock up on lovely supplies. I popped into the Saturday market, where locals relished the winter sun while enjoying pancakes and coffee. It’s difficult not to stare at the famous faces filling their baskets with delicious goodies from Die Hell to Merweville. Olives, Lemons, succulents, fresh bread, herbs, and healthy vegetables were being piled into baskets and crochet string bags. The atmosphere was festive as friends gathered to celebrate and reunite. I had to dash searching for an ATM while Butch, in the meantime, ordered Karoo lamb from the local butcher for our braai.

At the Spar, I spotted another celebrity, you may run, but you can’t hide anymore, especially since you have such an active Instagram account. No Jackie O disguises can hide your genuine smile, kind spirit and style Jackie B.

During the week, Butch had investigated camping spots near Prince Albert in the De Rust district.

While he punched in De Rust on the Garmin, my coffee addiction kicked in. While finding a coffee shop I managed to peruse the Angora Wool shop and one or two of the many galleries. I had to repeatedly remind myself that I would have to store all the lovelies and desirables in my heart and mind for the foreseeable future, and there would be no shopping for a while. My life as a gipsy demanded that we travel light—he who travels light travels far has been my mantra for years.

Our route took us through the majestic mountains as we negotiated the twists and turns through the Swartberg Pass and Meiring’s Poort. The colossal truck, wheels spinning while lying in a ditch a stark reminder that we must take it slow.

History lesson: “Around 1820, Petrus Meiring discovered the deep cleft through the Swartberg, linking the Little to the Great Karoo. He would later be instrumental in getting the first road built through the pass, which was opened in 1858” Source” De Rust Heritage – www.derustheritage.org.za 

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The owner, Jeff, previously from George, where he built private golf courses on the Garden Route and now does large cement installations like his green travelling tortoise gracing the entrance to the farm! There are more scattered on the property. Very Hobbity and a delight to come across. It appears that he single-handedly built his campsite and lodges. Quite an impressive feat too. Jeff is very affable and accommodating and went out of his way to make our stay enjoyable.

We had access to solar-powered electricity during the day but had to rely on our source at night. This made watching the rugby a tad tricky but not impossible! Fortunately, we do have our wifi for streaming. The Boks won!

Windless mornings enabled us to go for two long cycles; getting our limbs out on the road was pure bliss. We traversed the dirt roads between farms and labourers’ cottages, going up hills with the assurance that every hill must eventually go down again. Butch did a solo ride while I hiked the mountain behind our truck. The veld was a fresh green after good rains, and the profusion of orange cacti blooms opened to welcome Sunbirds greedy to feast on nectar. We spent two evenings beside a cement tortoise enjoying magnificent sunsets, long walks and restful days. We enjoyed our stay and think this would be a child's dream destination.

I had reasonable showers; a lousy shower is my pet peeve. On my scale, I’d give a score of 2.5/5. (there's room for improvement)

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Every year on the 3rd of July, I celebrate another spin around the sun. Some years are good and some not so good. The last year was wobbly but by and large a good one; before I knew it, I was another year older. Much has changed, and my life was in turmoil for a while, but my ship is back on course, and I’m happy to report I’m excited about the future.

Although I don’t fuss about my birthday, I like being spoilt. Butch did me proud. He made coffee (he does so frequently), made the bed and patiently waited for me to slap my face on before whisking (in a truck that’s an exaggeration!) me off to De Rust for lunch.

Our destination was Pluim Eatery and Coffee Shop. My first impression was good, and the Victorian homestead has been impeccably restored and curated. Tasteful art is scattered throughout the restaurant, gallery and stoep. Andries and Jan, the owners, were charming and immediately made us feel at home. Sunday lunch is a harvest table, and we were treated to delicious North African cuisine. The restaurant was buzzing with local patrons who must be Sunday regulars. We were seated on the stoep, enjoying the winter sun, where we met and had lengthy chats with other diners. (we are chatterboxes and enjoy meeting new folk.)

If your path meanders through De Rust, I’d say stop at Pluim and enjoy the ambience, the art and the people while you sip a coffee or enjoy something delicious from the a la carte menu. You may take your tipple and leave with delicious olives, jams or pestos for your store cupboard.

Although we didn’t have an opportunity to explore the village this time, I recommend De Rust for a quiet, relaxing stay. Day trips to Oudshoorn or Prince Albert are possible.

With the wind in our hair and a spring in our step, we set off to historical Graaff Reinet.

PS At 65 we come alive – watch this space.

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