After a few minutes I see that Pasquale is coming forward and it is he who now attracts the attention of the three men in the pick-up truck, who let off the pressure on me. I take the chance on the fly, wave them a warm good-bye and head down the rocks to find the perfect seascape angles for my wide-angle lens.
As we keep driving west we stop at Jeffrey bay. It's nothing special really but this could become an interesting twist in my trip because our driver gets lost in a township. I have been trying to visit a township but so far all our (white) drivers have steadfastly refused to venture into any. And today is no different. Petrus wants to get out as fast as possible. Anyway it's drizzling and windy, it would not be so pleasant to walk around, I tell myself. And the light is not right for pictures, either. So be it. At least for now.
However it takes Petrus a good fifteen minutes to find his way out, during which I can take a good look at the place. The people of Jeffrey Bay are obviously poor but not desperate. Their small houses are neatly aligned and seem well maintained. High walls all around most of them prevent me from seeing inside their gardens. No electrified barbed wire though.
|click on the map to view it in full size|
|Much to do in Tsitsikamma|
Toward the end of my walk there is a suspension bridge, at the head of which a padlock has been securely latched. It bears the name of two lovers. A habit that seems to have spread around the world.
In the evening I can finally satisfy my curiosity for Kudu steak. Hard to come by these days it seems. Last time I had it was in Namibia, over fifteen years ago, and have been missing it ever since. It is hard to get kudu in South Africa, there are not as many of the beasts in the wild and as far as I know they are not farmed. I order it rare. I like all red meat rare, or raw, to do justice to its unique organolectic characteristics. But it nevertheless comes well done. No: way way well done. Taste and send back. I tell them to serve it RAW. After ten minutes they bring me a new steak, nice and juicy, rare. Seems it's common to overcook meat in South Africa. Totally forgettable shiraz.
After dinner I take a short stroll around the hotel and run into a very unique restaurant/bar: there are table outside, and in fact it seems to be fully booked for the evening. But inside the large neon-lit room there are only antique motor vehicles. Motorcycles, mostly, but also one large American car from the 1950s with a sign on the windshield: "You are welcome to lay down on the bonnet if you are female, under forty and naked."