Here're a few pictures that didn't make it onto the blog.
Nyati in a Richtersveld riverbed
Port Nolloth flamingos & fishermen.
A flowering Richtersveld hillside.
Springbok pizza

www.rv-nyati.com

Driving through the utter devastation between Alexander bay & the Richtersveld National Park is a depressing experience.
Unless of course you're a mine owner…
Looks like they don't need to reduce the bottom line with rehabilitation expenditure.
Just shape the dumps to look like hills.

Then, the real thing…
The Richtersveld…
Huge, imposing, rising out of the desert.
I still can't get over how this geography changes so suddenly. One moment Nyati's happily cruising along a flat desert road, the next, we're down to third, on a steep mountain pass…
No gradual foothills,  nothing…
Flat sand. Steep rock…just like that.

Sanparks have done it again.
The staff, right from the entrance gate, are a happy, cheerful bunch, well trained in their own particular function.
Very pleasant & quite efficient to deal with…

The park, on the other hand, is quite magnificent.
WOW, seems to be the most appropriate description…

This is truly wild country, with breathtaking views from almost everywhere.
Again, I wished I could read between the lines of differing rock formations…
A geologists dream… Botanists too.

Driving through the Richtersveld's quite an experience. Visitors're warned that only high clearance, 4×4's are allowed in. The "roads" are basically all 4×4 tracks, & include some really nice mountain passes, steep with VERY narrow, VERY tight "hairpin" bends & serious drop offs.
Any "normal" all wheel drive vehicle, driven carefully, would easily cruise around…
The Suzie would excel here.

The thing is, Nyati's not in the "normal" category.
Nyati's bloody wide & VERY long.

Oh, but I just LOVE this truck !!

Nyati simply walked through, in, out, up, down & around, with a lot of over,   EVERYTHING…
Engine ticking over like a metronome, vacuum brake snorting, Nyati didn't miss a beat…

Ah, but I did…
You see, we just didn't FIT.

Piddling little rovers, cruisers & stuff like that would squeeze through. The track's made by, & for, them.
Nyati's outside track's 2.200m…
A cruiser's 1.800m… 
With a shorter wheel base than Nyati by 1.600m too.

With the forward camera spotting potential disasters, & the side mirrors showing just how close to the crumbling edge Nyati's 10tons was, we slowly drove on. Nyati totally unaffected, me with my heart pounding in my mouth.
The gypsy notably absent.

I'll have to find a woolworths somewhere…
They stock jockey briefs.

Nyati DID settle early, to wait for the rising of the full moon, besides the Orange river, in the lee of a Namibian mountain…
Idyllic…

I love this, living life, & watching it all go right.

Before lighting the mbaula, I gave Nyati a kiss… Right on the bonnet.
I'm sure I heard, "wait 'till tomorrow, we'll do it all over again, this time, higher, narrower & steeper… Hellskloof pass".

That's the moon reflecting off Nyati, not a camera flash.

www.rv-nyati.com

Oh Man, life is great.

Waking up to a completely different combination of sounds…
Bush sounds.
The calming effect of rolling surf, replaced by the strident calling of a big old Cape francolin… Wood peckers… Pigeon too.

Here, under the cover of trees, the breeze blows cool, but already, the sun's casting bright, stark shadows…
It's warming up fast out there, in the desert.

The Richtersveld National Park's about an hour away but I'm feeling so at home here, there's really no hurry, & my expectations are not very high.
It's not known for having animals, it's a desert hide away.
A 4×4 offroad playground.

So many of these wonderful places, all with surprises of their own…
Some delightful, some not so…
We just have to open our senses & let them flood in…

I'll have to make a serious effort to leave this lovely oasis today…

Home's right here, wherever the wheels stop… in Nyati.

The moon will be full tonight.
Nyati's going to settle in early.
Somewhere deserted, secluded, between the mountains & desert, on the banks of the Orange, I hope.

My trusty mbaula's going to blaze early, before the rising…

Man's food… Boerewors, steak, potatoes & beer…

Oh yeah… Under the desert moon…

CHEERS.

www.rv-nyati.com

After the excessive physical & mental exertions of yesterday, the inner organism took longer than normal to register that a wonderful West Coast day had dawned…

That we were back in the safety of Brand bay…

That the reality we had put so much effort into imagining, visualising, believing in, & working towards, had, of course prevailed, &, all in less than a full day.

Whether you BELIEVE you can…
Or BELIEVE you can't…
You're usually right.

Albertus & his wife Hernein were camping together with James & Mimmie.
This was James's stomping ground since birth & he seemed to have a story for every occasion.
Said he was a lawyer, ex. SADF, most entertaining to chat… Ah, well, to listen to,  actually. 
A radical left wing, right wing, anti establishment, anti everything, bantam cock…
The spitting image of a short Eugene Terriblanch.
I would have called him Eugene, but didn't know if he fell off horses…

He preferred his chosen name of "jihad James" anyway

We had a great few days bullshiting each other & eating amazing evening meals…
Pot roast duck one night & lamb shanks the next…

Jihad claimed to have cooked both, but I watched the girls doing it over the fire.

Another Babes Van der Walt type, but much quicker…
Another great, entertaining character…

He & Albertus, two good guys, opposites in almost every way, sharing a passion for this West Coast.

I LOVE meeting & spending time with people like this.
It can only be described as a privilege.

SO good for a debilitated soul.

www.rv-nyati.com

I'm not driving this road again without a gate opener ! !

Nyati's resting… recovering.
We're licking our wounds on a deserted stretch of beach beside a very docile Atlantic… flat, clean, COLD & crystal clear…
Somewhere North of Malkop baai, but South of the Groenriviersmond.
(I've learned it's called Brand baai)

What a day we've had ! !

Yesterday was spent in Lambert's bay.
I was determined to get a grip on how to load unlimited photographs onto the blog, using the laptop, even if it took all day… It didn't…
Straight off… No Vodacom dongle connection to the interweb… Bummer.
Stay calm, use the clever phone, always connected.
Ah, connected it may be… but it simply WON'T get past the bloody "capcha"…
I cancelled the project & got some washing done instead.

If it's got wheels, tits or a website, it's going to give trouble !!

That was yesterday.
The day before, we left Paternoster to move North.
Except for Stompnuus baai, there's really nothing to mention about this part of the coast.

One thing I DID notice was that ALL of the windswept, treeless, beach front property has been walled or fenced off, with roads & infrastructure for new private estates having already been built.
From Paternoster to beyond St.Helena, you're looking at boards proclaiming the wonders of living here…
Eish… Only a crayfish would.

"Emperors clothes" perhaps ?

So today we ventured forth looking for a "road" that I've been told runs along the beach all the way from Skaapvlei, up to  the Namaqua National Park, & then on to Port Nolloth…

There's a grubby little fishing dorp called Dooring baai… Very isolated.
Could this be the next "Paternoster" ?
They're building a lekker new road here & every few kilometres I spotted a tiny little fellow road user.

Check out the picture… It's one of them boldly exercising his "right of way".
He's also slow… Also travelling with his home on his back… So vulnerable.
A kindred spirit perhaps  ?

I drove even slower after the first one.

The Gypsy's extatic… Hey hey hey, it's there alright, the promised road, but it's only a fishermans sand track really & every few kilometres there's a bloody hek…

Stop, climb down, trudge across to the bloody thing, undo the wire, drag it open, trudge back to Nyati,  climb up,  drive through,  stop, climb down, trudge back to the hek,  are you tired of this yet ? Well then it's… drag it closed, do up the wire, trudge back to Nyati, usually muttering to myself,  climb back up & drive off…

Yes, that's just for ONE bloody gate.
So far, to here, there's been 13 of them…
Ja… EISH's right.

Mmmm… Could THIS be a use for some of those "Ex's" ?  :-))

Then… DISASTER… The track runs in & out, between & over, the sand dunes… Nothing graded, just sand drifts across hardened wheel tracks…Middle manijie.
It's all very very pretty & I wanted a photograph.

Carelessly, I'd stopped in a deep sand trap…

For the second time on this trip Nyati bottomed out & I had to start shoveling sand…
At least this time there were no lions, none that I knew of anyway, & it was cooler in the breeze off the Atlantic…
But this was no joke…
Very deep.

It's a long, dismal story of shoveling sand & packing dried kelp under the wheels, of expletives, lots of them, low ratio gears, diff-lock, deflated tyres & burning clutch &, yes, lots of blood, sweat & tears.
Try, try & bloody try again…

"Don't mention winches, there's nothing to attach 10tons of stressed Nyati to"…

"Don't bother looking around for someone to help… There's no one".

"So just dig some more".

When push comes to shove, that bloody gypsy's really no help at all.

Ja, we got out eventually, only after Steven, a kelp harvester, arrived, out of the blue, on his tractor, a quick pull & Nyati lifted out of the hole… Hallelujah.
Thank you Steven.

This episode did neither my self confidence, nor Nyati's clutch plates, any good at all, except perhaps to remind me of the problems we can have, off road.
I simply MUST be even more careful…
There's a LONG road ahead.

The morning dawned bright & clear & we set off, North bound, with no inkling of the drama this day held in store.

They say insanity's repeatedly doing the same thing, the same way, & expecting a different result… Mmmmm.

Nyati's handling the track well.
With the gearbox still in high range we were holding good speed, great momentum, revs up around 2400…
10 tons rolling fast, living on adrenaline & 50ppm dieseline…

I don't want to go on with the story, you know what's coming.

If Nyati could speak, we would hear that I should have swapped speed for power,  gone down to low range, deflated the tyres again & engaged diff lock.
All BEFORE heading onto an unknown beach track strewn with holes full of branches & dry kelp…
Clear signs of problems others had had.

Ja, well… I didn't.

It was a hellova day, hours of hopeless struggling, digging, kelping, reving…
Nyati gradually sinking deeper & deeper into the sand & me into despair.

Assessment time… Stop snivelling & think…

"AGAIN ?  It's a bit late for that NOW".

1) I could wait for someone to come past & hitch a lift, a bakkie won't manage this pull…It'll HAVE to be a tractor.

2) No sign of recent tyre tracks.

3) It's early, I could walk back to the sand mine about 25Km back. I'll meet anyone driving either way on this track. Steven's near the mine, or try the salt pan we'd passed.

Fuck it… 3… I hate doing nothing, waiting & the Gypsy would get on my nerves, I would just start feeling sorry for myself…
Out here, in my present state of mind, that's not a good idea.

I had a wee…
"Mmmm very dark… Must be getting dehydrated".
So I drank one, & took a couple of extra bottles of water out of the fridge, added "re-hydrate" powder, stuck the 9mm into my belt, put on my hat, spoke long & earnestly to Nyati, & set off… Due South.

"This won't take long".
"I've faced worse than this".
"Soon… I'll be returning, on a tractor… Believe it".
"A perfect day for a nice stroll along the West Coast… Whales broaching… Beautiful".

3 hours later…

"Jesus,  this fucking wind's blowing me backwards "
"Bloody soft sand… One step forward, half a step back".

"I wonder how many of the shipwrecked sailors who walked this same path in the past, made it".

"Old fool… There's nothing like an old fool"…"Could've stayed in Nyati… You can die out here"…

"Yes Mom, I know, but I didn't, & I won't"…

"Oh God, now I'm hallucinating".

Anyway… On & on like that.

I was bloody tired Man… My legs didn't want to move & then I saw them…
A landie & a Toyota… On a lower track.
Wave… Wave…  Nothing… Cruised past.

Despair again… Seagulls circling… Getting lower.

About a half hour further down the track, they suddenly appeared again, heading up towards my route… Ha HA… Saved.

Elation, at last.

Peter & Judy Wilson in the D4D, & their kids in the landie, were on the return leg of their long 3 month trip through Namibia, Zimbabwe, Zambia & Botswana… Heading home to Plett.

I would love to have seen myself through their eyes, because to me, they were wearing halos & wings.

So… Hell, this story's dragging on like a lonely, stranded overlander in the dunes…

Pete & Judy very kindly drove me to the sand mine where I got a most unpleasant reception from the mine manager, who flatly refused any help whatsoever & told me I was trespassing & should get off mine property… Arrogant prick.

To keep it short.
Steven couldn't help… Too far… Too late.

I got a lift to the salt pan with Albertus (Newly arrived camper) &, hooray, the manager, God bless him, agreed to let a couple of his guys (Johannes & Adrian) take a big old John Deere out to Nyati & so, saved my bacon.

It took two hours to get back to Nyati on the John Deere, & was fully dark by the time we were rolling back towards the pan again… This days pulling & struggling over.

Nyati rolled along effortlessly in low range with 4bars in the tyres, lighting the way back to the work shop, where I paid the Manager, (Chris DeBerg's song, "Don't pay the ferryman" had been running through my mind all the way up…how bloody uncharitable) paid the guys too…

So, as Nyati settled back into the relative safety of the informal campsite at Brand bay, I switched off the lights, engine, set the handbrake, pushed it into gear, locked the doors & sitting there, breathing a long sigh of relief, fell into an exhausted sleep, wondering why why why  ?

Then, finally…all's well that ends well… True.

www.rv-nyati.com

Last night with JP & Sharron was terrific.
Exactly what I needed to feel I was leaving the Cape happily.

That's the "send off" so many adventurers have had before leaving on their own personal African expedition.
Some with flags flying & trumpets blowing… Some without.

Nyati always just… leaves.

So it was from Melkbosstrand.

For a brief moment, that iconic view, the postcard view of table mountain from across the bay, filled the rear screen…

Burp burp… Fond fairwell.

The R27 led us past Koeberg, SA's aging nuclear power plant…who built that ?
Of course, the start of our nationwide "loadsheading" debacle was blamed on someone dropping a bolt in there…
What crap.
If Nyati starts glowing in the dark, you'll know why.

The road up to Paternoster's quite unremarkable…
Until…
OhmyGod…
I had to double take… Is this for real  ?
A classic "clash of cultures".

It's where traditional "live off the sea", subsistence fisherfolk meet "holiday home", developers… Property tycoons.

As in nature, predators are followed by scavengers…
Estate agents & money lenders are everywhere.

Nyati was driving through a film set.

I don't have the skills to describe this place… Paternoster.
You'll have to come & see for yourself.

I hooked up with Dominic, a local, tattooed gangster, fixing his traps, who told me he was waiting for his grandma to sell the shack so many generations of crayfishermen had been born in…

"Ag Jaa… 6 Mil,  no less ma bra".

Why do they curl their two middle fingers in as they speak, loose feet, always moving ?

Ja, just like that… I know you did too. 😉

Boats strewn about…
His crew were all drinking early today,
it wasn't lekker to go out this Friday… "Nay…It's the 13th bra".
Hats on backward…
Guzzling spookpiss & beer… Eish.

Dominic shared a beer, promised to keep me some crays on Sunday, the first day of the legal season, & directed me to Tieties bay, past the colombine light house, over the hill…
Nice graded gravel road…
The whole bay's a camp site…
Magnificent, raw, unspoilt coastal beauty.

The Atlantic ocean's there, in front of you as far as you can see…
There's a low pitched roaring as it works on the granite shoreline.
Nothing gentle here… Nothing cuddly.
Not a single tree either.

Don't fuck about, this is the real thing.
Awesome, very cold, straight out of the antarctic, & full of life…
I was somehow intimidated by such power,  so many stories.

Nyati's feeling cold Atlantic spray today.
Tyres rolling over ancient shell beaches.
How long has this been here ?
How much longer has it got ?

This's not the right place to be alone, you almost feel the world turning, misty mornings, wonderful sunsets…
This should be shared.

An East coast boy watching the sun going down INTO the Western ocean… Odd.

It's a chilly breeze, laden with the subtle smell of kelp & salt that makes the fire crackle & brings me to wonder…

"Am I sitting on my own,
in the dark,
cold & lonely,
getting drunk,
wondering what's creeping up on me from this hard & unforgiving place" ?

                       OR

"Am I sitting happily,
wrapped in a blanket,
sipping wine,
watching stars fall out of the sky,
listening to the sounds of the night,
cradled in the busom of Mother Africa" ?

www.rv-nyati.com

After last nights shenanigans I was in no mood to linger in Gordon’s bay.

The wind had been ferocious, it ripped the zips out of a German couples roof-top tent.

Nyati’s tanks were down to their last few hundred litres, so when I saw diesel at R10.92/l, that’s a rand/l cheaper than anywhere else, we stopped & pumped 400l.
I hope Nyati appreciates this “clean” 50ppm stuff, it looks like they’re phasing out the old 500ppm…

Too many finicky SUVs choking on it methinks.

The “Oatlands” holiday resort at Simonstown popped up on the garmin so I tapped “Go” & that’s where we headed.

I LOVE this part of the coast…
I LOVE the historic feel of it, the OLD, genuinely old, buildings, harbours, slip ways, stonewalls… All still working.

We still have a navy… Sort of… I thought they’d already sold that to someone.

The sun’s always shining whenever I drive it…
Not so when we rode bicycles around here though… Eish.

I THINK I’d like to live here…
These days, I’m beginning to wonder just where I’d REALLY like to live…

Maybe in a high walled castle with a view, some chickens, peacocks, DSTV, solar power & a goat.

Oh… of course… a dog too.

Oatlands reception office’s graced by Paula, a super efficient, up beat, Woman, whose quick witted, happy demeanour made for a very pleasant change from the dour creatures we’ve had to deal with lately.
Are they trained to be obtuse, or does it come naturally, along with being dim ?

Crawler gear, & up the terraces we went.

What a view ! !

Big…
Wide…
Deep…
False bay…panoramic…
Boats coming & going…
Penguins & golfers… The road signs warn you of both… they’re a hazard everywhere… Don’t we know it ?

Watching the fishing boats out to sea made me feel the need to braai propshaft Andre’s galjoen…

Mmmmm… Now I understand the fuss.

Paula offered to take me into Cape Town proper on Sunday… My own personal guide.

We had lunch at a frenetic curry outlet…
Ah… Cape Malay curry… Subtle, slightly different flavours from Natal Indian curry… Truly delicious.

Georgina would appreciate the decor too, it reminded me of Zanzibar… Stone town.

Monday dawned & brought with it a restless feeling… Gypsy like.
There’s no explaining it… I enjoy Cape Town…
It’s safe clean, familiar…

Ah…that could be it…
There’ve been so many happy times here… Ghosts again ?

Okay, so what do I want ?
Snoek at “Snookies” in Hout Bay…

Done…
Too much batter… Too bony.
Die Nagdigters was better.

What else ?
A satellite phone.

Okay, what else ?

Somewhere new, unknown.
Somewhere to calm & refresh the soul for a few days, then let’s move on…
Explore.

God’s hand on Nyati’s wheel…
How else did we arrive at the Chapmans Peak Caravan farm ?

“Garmin… Over Ou Kaapse weg, stupid”.

Check out the speed limit sign… Well the whole place’s like that…

Peacocks strutting, guinea fowl gliding in hitting the ground running…
Ibises crashing into the trees to roost, Egyptian Geese landing on the water at high speed, skimming in, wings curved…
Sheep, cows, horses…
Turkeys, muscovies, ducks, bantams… EVERYTHING.

Chris & his wife Rea (I wonder if she keeps her hat on ?) own & run the place…

It’s a sanctuary in every sense.

I walked up to the closest shops…
Lots of horses & crafts… Wonderful bread, coffee, jams, stuff like that.

The locals like to call Noordhoek the “Deep South” but Chelsea, a gorgeous young hippie, says it’s, “like, you know, South of the “Lentil curtain”…
“Hee hee… Hippies, lentils… Get it” ?

Nice Girl, extremely cool nose ring too…
“Far out Man”… Oh yeah.

It’s said that ships’re safe in harbour,
but that’s not what ships’re built for…

Nyati too.

I enjoy Cape Town & the surrounds.
Spectacular scenery, civilised, well run & certainly better maintained than most places Nyati’s visited.

It’s easy, happy, soft & safe… It’s Cuddly.

So, after a lazy couple of days, we topped up two tanks with delicious, clean, Cape Town water, bid farewell to Chris, Rea & the menagerie, & headed North…

“West coast, here we come”.

“Nyati has left the harbour”.

Before leaving, I’d made contact with JP Wilson. Sharron was in town, so we’d arranged to hook up for dinner.

What better place than Blouberg/Melkbosstrand ?
It’s just a few kilometres out, & the “Ou Skip” resort’s there…

A “sundowner” dinner with old friends.
Good food, lots of wine & reminiscing.
It was a perfect way to leave the Mother City & start the long trek North, into the unknown.

Unknown to me, that is… I suspect Nyati’s been there before, in another time, another life.
We all have our secrets, even a 40 year old warhorse.

All I can say is, "Thank God I've seen these views before."
That's definitely NOT "Dissing" them in any way, shape or form… But anyone seeing this for the first time would be in danger of driving straight into it.

Breathtaking, breathtaking, breathtaking.

They've built viewing sites at regular intervals along the perfectly maintained road, & Nyati needed to use every second or third one simply to calm down.

It took the best part of the day to cover less than 50km.

Crystal clear waters lapping up against the base of mountains…
Roads carved into the cliffside…
Very cool, reminiscent of the Amalfi drive in Italy…
Here though, there were no houses cantilevered out over the ocean, & MOST drivers keep left.

How can one country be so blatantly blessed with such awe inspiring natural beauty…?  
Such diversification too…
Mountains, the Kalahari, Karoo, Indian & Atlantic oceans, prolific wildlife.
Man, it's ALL here.

Nyati's been on the road now for about three months & I've yet to feel anything but… WOW.   (Except for Kimberley)

I know I'm out here to see it.
Experience it.
All my senses are open to it.

The thing is…I'm a little mystified as to how I was so insensitive to all this before…
Actually, that's a bit harsh…Less distractions, more time now, more likely.

There's a slight breathlessness pervading my senses…
A hint of light headedness…
Euphoric, I think.
The BP's holding at around 110 /75 so it's not that.

Good thing I don't have to keep up a macho demeanour, Nyati does it for me.

Then it surely must be that life is just SO bloody wonderful.

Years ago we'd sailed Enigma onto a safe anchorage inside the deserted Chagos archipelago, in the middle of the Indian Ocean.
One morning I swam ashore alone, to walk around Takamaka island.
This same, slightly detached feeling came over me then too.
Gentle surf broke over coral on the seaward side, brilliant sunshine exaggerated the colours, & coconut palms crowded together, to leeward.

I slapped myself, hard, reinforcing the memory, & danced a kind of hornpipe jig thing, like the old sailors did.
Embarrassed, in case someone could see me, I stopped & looked around…

"HA… I'm the only person on this entire island".

So I did it again  ! !

We rolled into Gordon's bay, brake drums sizzling, head swivelling, eyes on stalks.
Mmmmm… A young Camps bay.

It's all in holiday mode here.
Sun shining brightly.
Open jeeps, bicycles, dogs on leads…(Mostly at one end only.)
Itsy bitsy bikinis… Oops, speedos too.
Open air, pavement bistros.
Yachts filling the marina.
Palm trees.
Everything.

"Ah ha… This looks like ANOTHER paradise found".

Oh hell… Sorry Ceres…  Down you go… One more notch.

Nyati parked under a very wind sculpted tree, right up against the pallisaid security fence separating the Gordon's bay beach resort from the beach itself.

"Right, lets see what's what around here".

It's quite a hike from the high security, guarded gate, at the other end of the resort, the office end, to the actual beach front action.

She was obviously scanning…
Weren't we all  ?
Locked on now though.

So it appeared quite natural that we both,  coincidentally, headed for the same table, almost bumping… Nice touch.
"Oh Dahling, are you alone too ?"
She was taking very deep breaths…
Speaking from way down in her chest…
I wanted to see just how far down.

"I wonder if she takes a credit card  ?"

"Are you visiting ?  Me too… Sniff.
English ?   German ?
Shall we have a sundowner  ?… Sniff.
Let's get a menu Dahling"…Calling for the waiter by name… Sniffing again & again.

"Colombian flu", I thought… "Nice tits".

What a switched on guy… Obviously not on HER Christmas list though…
Said his name was Jerico.
Jerico from Zimbabwe.
I looked directly into Jericos eyes for a little too long before asking, "Anything good on THIS menu  ?"
Almost with a wink, wink, nod, nod…
You know, Monty Python style.
I nearly fell over when he nodded in her direction, & said, "No, it's all bad"…

Awkward…

Abruptly, wiping at her nose, she sniffed, said loudly, " Fuck you Dahling", & left… Scanning, sniffing.

I moved to another table.

Well, Jerico was right about the tourist based, pizza… Nothing good about it.
Very expensive cheap wine too…
Big glasses though… Very effective.

It must have been the howling wind because the bike nearly got me…
The prowling jeep too… Saved myself with a wobbly lurch back onto the pavement…

Oh shit… My late Mum used to describe some people, especially accountants, as, "Soft as shit, & twice as nasty".
This was the real McCoy… Very nasty…
A toy pom, dasksie something like that.

"Jesus, Man, they're pushing the bloody thing on a rope for Christ sake"…
Scraping.

I decided to skip the long walk back to the security guys.
So I zigzaged down to the beach & stepped over the fence into the resort, where the wind had built up a sand dune over the spikes.

They'll never get past the gates…
Why would they try  ?

All the way along the sand blasted beach, there were zombies walking just like me, they must have thought I was one of them, or, like me, they were concentrating on stepping between the dog turds & jellyfish covering the high tide mark.

Eish… Paradise after dark.

www.rv-nyati.com

How is it, that when we don't have any "set routine", so many interesting opportunities arise all around us  ?

I had wanted to walk through some of the little galleries scattered around Onrus.
Have a lazy day.
First though, I took in a bag of laundry.

They run several small businesses out of the local laundry, one of them, servicing some of the hundreds of holiday homes, is run by the gorgeous… Amanda.
Amanda invited me to "do the rounds" with her, see around Hermanus.

What a great day.

Holiday homes always fascinate me.
New & old, historic even.
Some are palatial, some simple, some filled with all the gadgets, & others, minimimalistic.

We had one in the Drakensberg mountains, so I know the joy.
Also the drag they can be when personal circumstances change, &, be sure of it… For better or for worse…They WILL change.

Hermanus's all had their own intimate stories to tell… They were an intriguing peek behind the curtains.

Thank you Amanda, for a lekker day.
I didn't see it coming.

Cats n' dogs, red rags & bulls,  motorcyclists & traffic cops…
They simply DON'T GET ON together.

Ah, but not here, check out the poster…

A motorcycle rally arranged & sponsored by the Hermanus traffic department…
WHAT  ? ?
How cool is that  ?

Mmmm… Maybe Ceres should be second on the relocation list.
There's a healthy vibe here… You can feel it.

After almost 3 months of travelling…
The first full day of persistent rain… Bloody cold too.
Personally, I LOVE it…
It brings out the Pommie in me…

Oh hell, yes… There's another one…

"How many of us ARE there"  ?
"Sorry Gypsy, in spite of myself, I have to wonder"…

The rain almost put a damper on the festivities at the finish of the "Wine to Whales"…

A 3 day, cross country mountain bike ride through the local wine route, over the mountains & into Onrus…
WOW, what a ride…
What great organisation…
Heavy logistics… I spoke to Andre' & his wife who make a living out of transporting bicycles around the country in their HUGE, piggy back, custom built, container, behind a Mercedes Actros 13/17.
They were interested in Nyati, because they intend converting their transporter into a mobile home… A bloody big one.

There'd be 3 events over the week, all running the same course.
Thousands of cyclists through the mountains… Eish.
Sensibly, they don't mix different levels of expertise…
Too technical…
That would be inviting tears.
Well, there was no shortage of blood n' tears, anyway… Claret, I'm told.

Helen & I rode several Argus Cycle Tours around the Cape peninsula.
They were wonderfully organised too, & we enjoyed doing them… I think.
Especially the finishes.

We also organised & ran the "Tour de Kloof".  A purely family fun ride, around our leafy lanes, raising funds for local charities.

THIS though, is in another league altogether.
This's tough guy stuff.

I just stood out of the rain, under some canvas & watched, a big hamburger in one hand, a glass of red wine in the other…
Smiling…
There was a distinct shortage of smiles at the finish… I smiled for them.

Very, very well done, one & all.
Competitors, organisers & sponsors.

Maybe next year… Maybe.   😉

Now though, there's the twisting, mountain edge "Whale route" to follow.
In & out of all those beautiful little, some not so, bays, Betty's, Pringle's, Gordon's.

I'm excited.

www.rv-nyati.com

www.rv-nyati.com

So Mrs.Kearney had opened the surgery door, were we prepared to step through  ?

"Be brave, I'll be right here, beside you"

Werner diagnosed a "broken" battery…
What !!  Another one  ?
Why do we bother buying these expensive "Wonder" batteries  ?
It seems they're ALL crap.
6 batteries on Nyati… 3 replaced already.

I had planned to give Nyati a comprehensive mechanical service somewhere in Cape Town, &, of course the radiator needed serious expert attention sometime soon.
Right across the road from Werner's workshop was another that overhauled trucks & busses…

Can you believe it  ?
THAT'S NOT ALL… They were a Silverton Radiator agency AS WELL ! !

Mrs.Kearney'd brought us into a veritable NEST of EXACTLY what we needed.
Ah, but I'd "rushed in" before…
Got heavily shafted too.

It's time to step back, switch on the "gut feel" & ask awkward, probing questions.
Feel for integrity.
Look for deception, furtive eyes, ambiguous answers,  shuffling footwork… LIES.

Riaan, across the road, was another "grey beard".
"I used to work on these on the border with the SADF… Great trucks".

"Go for it… Look for ANYTHING that might develop into a problem"

A doctor we knew, used to say, "if you think you're fit & healthy,  it's only because you haven't had enough tests done yet"…He always said it with an evil little grin… Standing too close.

Ah, so it was with Nyati.

I was with Riaan, when he did a detailed examination of Nyati's intimate parts.
I wanted to make sure we did ALL the tests.
I wanted to carry out preventative maintenance too.
The final prognosis wasn't really what l wanted to hear, but rather now.

Over & above the normal routine service, & the radiator, of course.
Nyati had a broken engine mounting, & the main propshaft universal joint was badly worn…
They would need to be replaced.

Shit ! !

"It's okay, cowboys don't cry".
"But, I'm not a bloody cowboy".

Of course, Hermanus's one & only propshaft specialist had opened shop just 2 doors down, not more than 3 months ago.
Of course they had… by now I was expecting nothing less.

Thanks Mrs.Kearney.

Hansie, of Overberg Propshafts, that's him holding the new unit, the other guy, the one giving me the galjoen, is the boss…
Do I really look that hungry  ?

The girls gave me a complimentary "Overberg Propshafts"cap too…
Instead of a pensioner's discount… Hee hee… What a cheek… I just LOVE it.

Anyway, Hansie showed me why the universal was packing up after only 5000km.

It's the one gearbox & propshaft "ace" of Westmead built & fitted.
Enough said.
Those guys are dangerous. 

In the end it was quite painless…
Werner, Riaan & Hansie all did the work themselves… All the work.
They don't have any "untrained hands" in their workshops…
None of them…
Lifting, cleaning & carrying's completely mechanised.
Radiator repair shop too.

Nyati simply purred… New fluids, lubricants, coolant & filters.
Broken parts replaced or repaired, friendly spanners across every bolt, nipples greased, batteries all showing green with good numbers.
The "Pink Kalahari flash flood" mud, high pressured off & out… Finally.

A cap in the cupboard, & a fish in the freezer.

Oh Man… Life IS great again.

The Gypsy's getting twichy.

Despite parking under the magnificent coastal forest, breathing nice thick sea breezes & being lulled into deep sleeps by rolling surf, it's almost time.

I'm going to miss the early morning coffee, rusks & grapefruit on the "Davies pool" beach bench at Onrus, ogling the passing parade of assorted dogs.

Wishing I had one of the 4 legged ones with me…????

Oh how Barbara would've LOVED this…Amie too.

www.rv-nyati.com

Obviously it used to be a cute little village, this Hermanus.

In the good old days they had the old harbour… Then the new harbour.
Plenty of frolicking whales, & shoot to kill.

NOW they've got us tourists AND a wonderful system of walking, talking, happy, smiling parking meters…
Imagine… 
Paying for the parking time you think you need AND getting a "built-in" car guard  with serious back-up.

I'd parallel parked Nyati into one & a half bays in the MIDDLE of town, much to the admiration of the meter maid, "Djaa nou DAR'S a fokken TROK I'm telling you. Check out those fokken horns ek se' ".

I LOVE these people. No inhibitions whatsoever. They speak their minds…
Usually VERY loudly.

Okay, so for a quick look inside Nyati, & a Peter Styversant filter, I qualified for discounted parking.

Spar was wonderful…
They had some.

My life had ebbed to an all time low…
I had no grapefruit in the fridge.
I thought it was all over.
"Ag nee the seasons finished… You won't find no more". The Pick n' Pay assistant had told me, gleefully.

So you know that wonderful feeling of discovery… liberation… School yard victory… Fuck YOU Man.

What the hell's happened to chivalry ?
Where's a bloody boy scout when you need one ?
Nobody helps senior citizens across the road anymore,  not even if they're struggling with bags of grapefruit.

Nyati's a BITCH to load.
Do you KNOW how HIGH it is to lift  ?

Finally, after chasing rolling citrus out of broken bags.
My time was UP… The "special" ticket had expired.
Okay okay… Relax meter Babe… I'm going… Scan the board… Numbers're good… Smile… Wave to the crowd of on-lookers.
Hit the starter button… Phlap… "this can't happen"… AGAIN… Phlap.. Phlap.

This just can't happen… Not to us.
Nyati's batteries could run a medium sized city.

The Babe's not happy… She's talking into the radio… Rolling the cavalry… They'll be here soon.

Okay, this's the "won't start" scenario I'd rehearsed in my mind so often.

What if  ?

"What if, my arse. How're you going to get this 10 ton bitch started "?

I wondered where the Gypsy'd been lately.

Nyati was packing plenty of power,  it was just a matter of figuring out how to use it.

First,  do we really have a problem  ?

While I was "bum up" searching for the jumper leads, before actually accepting that we were "in the shit again", there was an insistent banging at the passenger side door… VERY insistent.

"Eish, that's quick", I thought, & looked out, expecting something hard & heavy.

"Oh Jesus… Not now…
It was another of the "blue rinse brigade". 
They're attracted to Nyati like moths to a flame.

"Hello", I said, trying to smile, lowering the stairs onto the pavement… Carefully… Imagine knocking the old girl over… Jesus,  she's almost as old as me.

I thought I was looking at my Mom.

She was a beautiful lady, born into an age of integrity, trust & respect.
But ferocious in her intensity…
Just like my Mom.

I was reminded of the story of the old Lady who, when asked how she was, declared loudly… "Thank God I'm British, & on dry land"

"I like your big van", she said, coyly.

"Oh God"

"Do you have a problem starting up my dear" ?
"I know a wonderful Man. I'll call him if you want"

Finally, the jumpers… Thank God, Nyati started on the first kick…

Gypsy… "Getusoutofhere".

Before I knew it, a big old Merc swung in front of Nyati & a wrinkley arm flapped out…
Follow me…
Old style…
Just like that, we were off… to the auto shop… I hoped.

And that's how it was.

Mrs. Kearney, a wonderful old South African Lady, introduced me to Werner, her German auto electrician, & drove away.

So now I HAVE to ask…

How did this happen ?
Where did this Woman come from ? 
She seemed to know we needed assistance BEFORE even I really knew the extent of the problem, myself… How ?

Angels  ?   Miracles  ?    Again  ?

I 'phoned to thank Mrs. Kearney from Werner's workshop, she's a very gracious Old  Lady.

It made me wish I'd had more time with mine, or that at least I'd told her I loved her.

I can't remember doing that.

www.rv-nyati.com.

A friend's feeling a little jaded right now. Labour problems at work seem unsurmountable, the culture of entitlement, tension, & very real threat of physical violence has resulted in a desire to "chuck it all up", let them produce their own daily bread, & relocate.

Emigration's out… Wrong parents.

My friend, have a look at Ceres, unless I'm VERY wrong, this could be your salvation. It's hellova organised, peaceful, clean, quiet & quite White.
No desert dust either.
Just garden after beautiful garden, filled with flowers.

Leaving Ceres was easy.
I simply picked up a Giovanni's fish 'n chips, selected a lowish gear & rolled down Michells pass looking for a nice picnic spot…

Now THIS has to be "the Cape"…
Unmistakable.
Another, different, but stunning version of magnificent landscapes.
Vineyards stretching right & left as far as the mountains…
The horizon's invariably close. High too.
There's always a mountain.
Ceres's under the mountain.
When we got to Hermanus, it too was nestled between the mountain & the sea…
All the way there, Nyati drove beside, or in view of, mountains…

Very lekker,  the "Mountain truck" loved it… Mostly down hill too.

Then, around a corner & there it was…
Stretching out to the distant horizon…
The Indian Ocean…
Ooooh yeah…

I could see it, but couldn't smell it, all those bloody flowers had left me with hayfever.
Quick, into the blue & white box & down with a powder… Ahh Grandpa.

The Onrus caravan park was like Rocky bay at Pennington.  Right on the beach. Lovely.

A sign of things to come, I fear.
The bookings were heavy,  but Nyati's at home almost anywhere… Low trees excepted.
I'm going to have to make some sort of plan over the forthcoming holiday season… Any popular destination's going to be booked up… It looks like Nyati's going to have to find a bolt hole somewhere…
Somewhere, the hell out of Cape Town, that's for sure.
Up the West coast perhaps.

So… Hermanus.
I wonder how many of you, reading this, have been to Hermanus on a really perfect day…

Walked around the cliff edge path, idled on the benches, dozed in the sun & felt the magic of whales cavorting across the bay.
Impossible to ever know how many there were, 5… 50… 500, I hope.

Watching them reminded me of the time  Georgina accompanied me on the Aliwal Shoal dive boat, to familiarise herself with the on board procedures, prior to doing her open water qualifying dives.

Soon after launching the boat though the surf, "easy peasy", she'd done THAT often before, we came across a gigantic Southern Right Whale… "sailing".

The skipper had stopped well away from the animal & we piled into the water hoping to watch it diving.
Uh uh, it had no intention of going anywhere… Instead of diving away, it slowly swam directly towards us.

My wetsuit instantly warmed.

Like a block of flats, majestic, unhurried & with no hint of malice, the barnacle encrusted Southern Right passed within 3 meters of us.
We got pushed up against the boat by the bow-wave…
It was moving deceptively fast…Very big.
A force of nature.
An irresistible creature, watching us as it passed.

That moment certainly goes into the "took our breath away" column.

Today there were lots of them.  Right here, in full view of anyone who cared to look. 

I'm sure any of you who has been privileged to have experienced Hermanus & the whales like this, will agree.
We're blessed to live here.

Do they know it's full moon ?
Is that why they're so playful, so full of energy  ?
Horny, more likely.

www.rv-nyati.com
Www.rv-nyati.com