So the following morning we woke up without a plan. We were gonna chill, progress along the coast, stop off at the local breweries and maybe have a dip in the ocean if it was warm enough. Unfortunately as we were having breakfast it started pouring down with rain which made us even lazier than before (and my muscles were aching from doing all that hard kayaking the previous day). The local residents on the other hand were celebrating as water is scarce in these areas and this part of the country has been experiencing a drought in recent years (none more so than Cape Town). Who would’ve thought someone could get so excited by some rain but I guess the grass is always greener…
So after a couple of hours of lounging around we hit the road again. Every time we got in the car the scenery seemed to get better and better. And this time after a short period in the car we actually saw a bunch of baboons just hanging out on the road, waiting for some sucka to stop and feed them (but not us, we were law abiding tourists, saving our money for adventure, not baboon fines).
Another thing you’ll find walking around the motorways a lot is humans, even though there are signs everywhere forbidding hitchhiking. Ironically enough you can even sometimes find them hitchhiking next to the signs. The problem is that everything is so far away and if you are unlucky enough to not be able to afford a car (which is the majority of South African labourers), you have very few options for getting home (yes the odd bus or so but it’s less regular than TFL). Because while Johannesburg and Pretoria generate 10% of the whole of Africa’s (yes the whole continent’s) GDP, on the southern coast it’s a very different picture. 25% of the Eastern Cape is illiterate and while we bounce from town to town hanging out in developed South Africa, in between, the roads are scattered with townships (South African favelas) where poverty and crime is ripe. And not to mention that these townships really are in the middle of nowhere, so if you need to get to civilisation, or a job, your only option is to hitchhike or get on the back of a truck.
Our first stop was Plettenberg Bay or “Plett” (coz everything needs a nickname here). This place is like the Nantucket of South Africa- white sands, clean water, nice little village (full of wealthy white folk) and mountains surrounding it. We grabbed a coffee in a cafe with a view and daydreamed about opening an office on the shore and living out our days on the sea far far away from the big city.
But as much as we liked Plett, we wanted to move on to Knysna (pronounced nyzna- it’s a silent K but try explaining that to Josh who’s still calling it Kayzna three days later). Knysna is one of the most famous towns on the garden route, it’s next to a lagoon and surrounded by forest. And according to Lonely Planet, it’s got a lot of excellent places to eat and drink, and a great vibe, not for those looking for a quiet town. Great, we wanted a bit of a party after our relaxing time in the forest- and after all Knysna is the home of Mitchell’s the original South African craft beer 🙂
So driving up to Knysna with no idea what to do (particularly with the shit weather), we thought Mitchell’s was a good place to start. A nice South African ale each and already the day was looking up. My ale was actually very nice- much nicer than the other beers we’d had in SA so I kindly volunteered Josh to be designated driver for the day (he had been doing his fair share of drinking) and I continued to enjoy Mitchell’s creations. Mitchell’s brewery was actually one of the first breweries that we’d had that used locally sourced hops and tasted pretty good so all the more reasons to enjoy 🙂 a few beers later I was definitely enjoying the beer and the town a whole lot more than when we’d arrived. In the meantime my driver friend Josh had kindly arranged a massage for me (probably feeling guilty for not pulling his weight the prior day) and drove me to an hour of heaven with a South African lady who knew her way around a female back.
Feeling fantastic I was ready for a night of party. After dropping our stuff in the hostel we set off for the centre for some food and more alcohol. Walking through the city we couldn’t help but find it a tad dead for a party place. Everyone there seemed local and in a bad mood or just…well…pretty old. We had a delicious pizza in a local restaurant (with some more Mitchell’s) and found ourselves pretty much the right age to be everyone in their’s child/grandchild.
No matter, I’m sure the next place will be happening. We asked the fun-looking waitress where the cool young people go out, to which she pretty much replied “Cape Town”. Great. We tried one more bar only to find another, slightly more adventurous bunch of OAPs and eventually we concluded this is not the Town we thought it was. We later were to read how Knysna was a particular favourite of the retiring British ex-pat community although for a bunch of young Brits in their prime it was not the place to go. Beer was good though, and we needed an early night for our shark diving experience the next day 🙂
