Our starting point was Sasolburg, where Cobus has a home, which is about an hour south of Johannesburg. Designed for the workers of the petro-chemical plant that dominates the town, it’s notable for the residents’ peculiar decorative choices such as affixing large metal geckos to the outside walls or constructing a fake cave façade. The air was smoke. Cobus assures me that this is just a winter phenomenon and that people burning wood or coal and not the plant create it. Barking dogs – the different timbres of the different dogs – everyone seems to have a dog that likes to bark – except Cobus, thank goodness. Along the road, men balance their bottoms on empty bottles or bricks, sitting, waiting, hoping that someone will need work today. For all of this, Sasolburg was oddly cozy. Maybe the diffused light in the smoky evening, or the uniform singularity of the homes. When I first arrived I only had time for a first impression, as we drove to Cobus’ parents’ the farm after only two sleeps in Sasolburg.
The farm was great. Well, cold, but great. Sunny, that should answer your question: Africa’s not always “Africa hot”. The temperature was about 32 to oh, maybe 45 in the sun while I was there, but there’s no such thing as indoor heating. It’s cold. And I was such a wuss.
The farmhouse is situated in what feels like the Southeast quadrant of Mars. According to Cobus, it’s a semi-desert. Evidently what that means is that one encounters lots of shrubby twiggy things sprouting from the dust that leave scratch marks on your legs if you haven’t applied lotion in a while. Dark green, brown and tan are the dominant colors with splashes of vibrant red and orange from the lichen that like the large gray stones.
Riding the bakkie (pick up truck) on the path up the mountain – yes there’s a mountain on the farm – is quite a pitch and roll. We reached our destination, an overlook, from the farm in about 45 minutes. The view from the overlook reminded me of the movie “The Neverending Story” when the stone giant told Atreyu with wide eyes about “the Nothing”. ‘Cause that’s pretty much what I saw. Awww, don’t be offended, Cobus, the Nothing is a beautiful, powerful vastness that I had never experienced before.
Cobus’ parents were welcoming and gracious about engaging me in conversation in English. Our days at the farm were passed watching Binnelanders, playing monopoly, cozying up next to the fire, fighting over who gets to ride the motorbike and eating eating eating. I loved that! Mealie pap for breakfast, which I was massively surprised to discover are actually grits! And here I thought, in the African spirit, I was going to have to stomach some sloopy gross porridge stuff. About 11 o’clock was teatime with walnut cake. One o’clock lekker lunch. Tea again around 4. More cake. Dinner around 8. Ten o’clock…more cake! Ahhhhh….On the last morning at the farm, Cobus tried to rouse me early enough to milk the cows, but I was on holiday slo-mo so we got there just in time to have missed it. Too shy to photograph him from the front, I managed a picture of the man carrying the milk buckets away on his shoulders. They drink their own milk and make their own butter there. Why shouldn’t they?
We climbed back into the bakkie and drove to Stellenbosch, one of the first white towns of South Africa, which is close to Cape Town. It’s a beautiful area, lush with crumbly low mountains in the background. In the heart of the town, the buildings are white and curvy, which is called Cape Dutch. Somehow in connection with the university, every year the trunks of the trees on the main drag are wrapped in crimson cloth, creating an interesting, stark effect.
We camped at Cobus’ brother Thean’s apartment. He is the youngest of the brothers with a very likable relaxed, self-depreciative, clever funny kind of way. On the first day we did a beautiful thing: we tasted a lot of wine. The three different vineyards we visited were quite different – the first was a favorite because we had a gorgeous breakfast, the second had an English-type garden and at the third we camped at a sunshiney outdoor table.
On the second day, we climbed to the top of Table Mountain – tough job, lots of sweat. Loads of tourists are scurrying around at the top. The view from the plateau is exceptional, looking down on the city center on one side and to a rugged coast on the other side. In the distance is Robben Island, where Nelson Mandela was held during the end of his tenure in prison for treason.
My only encounter with the wildlife was being dive-bombed by blackbird who couldn’t resist the salmon exposed gleaming pink on my bagel bottom half. I guess this is why you’re supposed to eat the top and the bottom of the bagel. While it wasn’t successful in capturing my salmon, it did startle me enough to jump, which caused me to fling the salmon into a bush behind me. Blackbirds. Hate them.
I had to get my toes ready for their first experience with the other side of the Atlantic.
The next day found my bum in the bakkie again on our way to George to see more of the coast and to visit with Cobus’ oldest brother Jaco and his tiny, pretty, talky, friendly “we don’t-shake-hands-in-this-family-we-hug” wife Linda. Jaco is level-headed seeming, down-to-earth and like all of the brothers, quick to laugh and sporty. I enjoyed another few evenings of being fed.
We were following the Garden Route for a few miles when Cobus’ sensed that I had hit a wall being in the passagener’s seat, so he modified his idea a little and we parked in a protected forest to see the largest Yellowwood tree. We ambled a bit along the path. While I was dodging spiders and gazing at the ”hangy” vegetation, Cobus educated me on some of the plants and birds.
After the forest, we hopped over to Noetzie, a cove on the Indian Ocean with grotesque castle replicas along the shoreline. Putting my back to them, the beach was one of the most beautiful I have seen. We quietly pressed our feet into the sand.
Then it was 12 hour ride back to Sasolburg. In Graaff-Reinet, we parked for a quick lunch with Lina, Cobus’ mom. The farm is not far away - in Karoo terms. Due to an unfortunate parking lot mishap, thirty minutes turned into a little bit longer.
The following morning, after a long night of feeling ill, I pulled myself together somewhat for a visit at Plumari Game reserve. Two students of, I can’t remember, Bush Studies, I think, gave us a “personal tour” of reserve. Early on, a gigantic grasshopper made himself cozy on the sleeve of my blue puffy jacket. I swirled it around for Cobus to take a look – ah, the look of surprise on his face – hands up, “Whoa!”. Very funny.
Lions, lots of antelope, giraffes, buffalo, zebras and rhinoceros (rhinoceri?), which I wanted to see in particular for some reason. Wow! These animals really exist! Outside of zoos! Powerful animals in the soft light in the blond grass.
That night, Cobus’ friends Buhr and his friend Lizel show up late. Buhr is animation, laughter, gesture, big smile, silly laugh – and I liked how he liked Cobus. We organized some doubles tennis in the morning. Cobus and I lost. Again.
A braai and a beer always help, though.
That afternoon I sat still not feeling great and hoping not to be too much of a drag while the three of them tasting wine near the Vaal river.
Next morning, they were off and so were we to Ernst’s place in Jo’burg for lunch. Yet another brother! He was friendly, engaging and relaxed; I liked him a lot. For some reason, I expected him to be more serious and aloof. Ernst’s wife, Jakolet, is green-eyed, stunning, and somehow fragile seeming. She had just adopted a kitten named Sushi that morning, so while the stew stewed, she was busy bathing and comforting.
Monday Cobus worked. I ran and walked and had a great time looking at all of the outrageously bad decorative choices of Sasolburg’s residents. Got barked at by dogs. Enjoyed the warm sunshine and breeze and spent the rest of the morning in sunning and reading on the lawn trying not to wait for Cobus, who returned at 1pm on the dot with lunch and then unfortunately disappeared again.
Tuesday morning we ate an opulent brunch along the river – he “reserved the whole place for us”. Played 9-hole pitch and putt course along the river. Home for a little then a long game of tennis in the afternoon.
That evening I packed and he nuked lasagna. We drank champagne and did little else.
Too soon it was up and out the door to the airport. He helped me with my extra baggage – we shared a croissant and a sandwich. And then bye bye. I’m not writing about that.
As with any place, unless you grew up there or have lived there for a long time, you can only give impressions of what you encounter. South Africa seemed like a land of dichotomy. So much brown, yellow, green space, yet shacks and mansions alike pressed together - the shacks brightly painted every color, the mansions tan and brown brick. It’s pollution and fresh-air beauty. It’s desert, it’s ocean. It’s rich and poor, beautiful and ugly and black and white. I would have to spend a lot more time there to be able to understand it and make connections between the poles.
-This is mainly for my parents who asked, “What did you do?” Here you have it! -
