To say I left with a heavy heart is a serious understatement… De Rust had a lifestyle any fire loving, beer swilling nature boy would find addictive.
Today's Die Nagdigters birthday, but what with a big film crew moving in bringing all their traditional drama & egotistical, "Oh, this's really not up to the standard I'm used to", crap, he's got his hands full. Imagine keeping a bunch of Somalis, Pakistanis, Boerjies & Yanks together & happy… Oh ja, not to mention they ALL traipse back & forth past the AWB bowhunters caravan, early & late … Someone should start digging Man.
Something that has always irked me is retracing my steps… The gypsy didn't care… Open road… Crank the sucker up. So it wasn't until we got onto the Kimberley road, & into the Northern Cape proper, that I felt Nyati relax & start enjoying new scenery. Flat as a bloody pancake, nothing to break the horizon for 360 degrees, all round. Now don't get me wrong, I'm the last person to criticise where you want to live, but, why, why, why does anybody hang a "home sweet home" sign here ? I was told that they had a crocodile farm up the road, but as the story goes, they all died… Too hot. 😮
Nyati rolled into the caravan park beside the Big hole in a cloud of dust… Drunks scattered, like mullet from a stone, only to stagger back towards Nyati as the dust settled…JUST like mullet. "I wish I had a cast net ", I thought… ("Or a fokken bow")…Jesus Man, Kabous's 300km away. So Kimberley's caravan park's become a no go zone.
I could stay in this spot,
I might even like it,
But not a lot.
Eat your heart out Nagdigter.
Well, it turns out that this is as good as it gets here, in Kimberley, if you're in a caravan. Fortunately, I'd mentally logged a potential bolt hole on the way in… Like you do when you walk into Black rhino country, you're continually scanning & assessing the climbability of every available tree.
Check out the pic… It's not De Rust, but It's got GREAT take aways, & tonight, it's home.
