We snuck out early, hooded in the dark before the sun caught us. We wanted to miss the Joburg traffic and get on the open road to start our eagerly anticipated road trip without the need to weave through the noise and chaos of rush hour.
Just over an hour into our trip. Looking back as we pass through the Kroon Vaal Toll Plaza.
In the closing days before our trip Matthew had developed an unpleasant rash on both forearms. At first we thought they were flea bites as there were some spots around his ankles too, but as the days went on they spread an ugly red rash across his entire left forearm and the top part of his right.
We guessed it was eczema, a response to several losses, but specifically the death of his father. We hoped that getting away would calm and settle the rash which itched and scratched for his attention like a bored five year old.
We had cream to soothe it, conversation to distract from it, and an open and unusually quiet road to focus on. Our first stop was Graaff-Reinet, a historical town situated in the Eastern Cape, over 8 hours of car journey away. We had plenty of time to blow off the dust of the busy city.
Our first stop over
After a smooth and uneventful drive we weaved into Graaff-Reinet, the fourth oldest town in South Africa, found our accommodation and settled in, surprised at how hot it was.
We wandered into town to find somewhere to have an early supper. Our Wimpy breakfast was some while back and our stomachs were rumbling. After scouting out the quaint shops and eating places, Hello You! called out. With a cool roadside verandah and pizza and salad on the menu, we chose to stay. You can never go wrong with pizza and salad, or so Matthew believes.
Pizza and salad go together like peanut butter and jam. Best served with a cold craft beer.
The next day, after a slow breakfast, we stopped in at the tourism centre to be met by a flamboyant but flustered, beret-wearing, Afrikaans speaking man who seemed quite put out that we chose to poke our noses into his door.
“How can I help you?” he asked with a huff, staring at us as if he really could be doing better things.
“Where is the best place to go if we are only here for the day?” enquired Chantal stifling an amused laugh.
Bereted man strode to the pamphlet stand, his matching silk scarf blowing in the non-existent breeze. With a flourish he pulled out a printed tourism leaflet. He pointed at a few numbers on the back, and the same on the front.
“You can go here, here and here,” he said, overlooking our confused expressions. “Reinet House is the best place to start if you’ve got limited time. And the church.” He rattled off a few other names.
We stumbled out into the blazing heat. Matthew made sense of the map on the back and we walked the two blocks to Reinet House where we spent a good two hours wandering through the Dutch Reformed Church Parsonage.
Completed in 1812 it was occupied by various ministers, including Reverend Andrew Murray, who made a point of learning Dutch before he arrived, and his son Charles who collectively occupied the house for 82 years. All South African Murrays can trace their ancestry back to this Reverend Murray, whose name, family and influence can be felt deep in the surrounding area and towns.
They say it's all about the timing. A fluffy cloud was poking out of the Reinet House chimney. This house is also home to a Black Acorn grapevine planted by Charles Murray in 1870, making it the second oldest living grapevine in South Africa.
Ghosts of yesteryear
The museum holds a fascinating array of old furniture, household and farm equipment, even a display of vintage clothing. Our footsteps echoed through the enormous, high ceilinged rooms and made the pine floors protest at our intrusion. The house hung with a musty, dusty smell of the ghosts of yesteryear. Carpets, bedspreads, curtaining and clothing draped suspended and stiff, threatening to disintegrate if we stared at them too hard.
Matthew came across an 1825 edition of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales.
“I was very tempted to take the book and give it a good home,” he confessed, “No-one would have missed it,” he protested at Chantal’s aghast look, “It was faced backwards, wasn’t honoured or given any of the reverence it should have.”
“This place could be so much more,” commented Chantal as they exited the double doors, sans the Canterbury Tales. “It needs a guide to tell the stories of those times, make it come alive.”
“Hardly going to happen when the person manning the desk has zero connection to its history,” said Matthew.
“It is very Afrikaans,” agreed Chantal, “ Afrikaans, Christian, steeped in the politics of the time. There isn’t one photo of a person of colour, never mind any reference to them.”
We hadn’t considered asking the polite young African woman who had taken our entrance fee if she had any connection or knowledge of the museum. She didn’t offer anything either as she offered us a photocopied A5 information leaflet that was about as useful as the bereted man’s directions.
The philosophical quandary: Should it be given a new home of reverence and value? Out of interest this two-volume edition features not only Chaucer's tales but also additional poems, reflecting the era's growing interest in celebrating English literary heritage.
White steers and steeples
A nondescript whitewashed roadside restaurant called Frontiers promised cold beers. We ventured in and thought we had stepped into a different time and place. It was not the laid back pub we expected. White porcelain steer heads dotted a white wall. White and wood furniture, olive green crockery, sparking silverware, crystal glasses were off set with bright yellow flowers.
“Oh gosh, we just want a drink,” said Matthew to the friendly waitress who approached us with menus.
No problem, we were offered a seat. Friendly service, a big smile, patience at our stumbling Afrikaans.
As the afternoon started to fade, we walked to the steepled Dutch Reformed Church at the top of Church Street (who would have guessed?). Massive and imposing, for a relatively small town, the foundation stone was laid in April 1886. Its tall white steeple pointed the way to salvation. Styled on the lines of Salisbury Cathedral in England it can seat 1250 people.
We wondered if it was ever filled with that many people these days. We should have asked the farmer who was with his granddaughter, taking refuge in the cool as he waited to pick someone up. He happily engaged with us, gave us advice as to what route to take the next day and bid us a safe trip onwards. It felt like we had known him forever.
Beginning in 1792 and evolving through a few versions, this fourth and final “Gothic Revival” version of the church was completed in 1887. The steeple is nearly 46 metres high!
Interesting places and unforgettable people
That’s how it was as we wended our way onwards to Knysna. The small towns were interesting, in a forgotten kind of way. They were mostly steeped in a colonial history, lived in by descendants of servants and slaves, landowners and preachers and surrounded by vast farmland.
We passed through Aberdeen which is quiet, dusty and poor. But it had an air of potential, if it was given some time and attention. Willowmore looked particularly sad, lost and neglected. Uniondale was brighter and sprightlier. This town being closer to the Garden Route enjoys more day visits from the other side of the mountain, so it can keep up appearances.
The people we came across were more interesting and could not be forgotten: colourful, friendly, helpful, patient and amused at our second language attempts.
We stopped off at a padstal (roadside stall) for breakfast. The proprietor was equally patient with our scratchy vocabulary. She ran a brisk trade in the middle of nowhere. We had moerkoffie and cheese, tomato and onion roosterkoek brought to our plastic covered table on the stoep.
As we tucked into our unusual meal we eavesdropped on a couple of bikers just across from us. They sat in comfortable chairs, enjoyed an early beer and chatted about their pets with a gravel-voiced farmer and his wife.
We wound our way through the Outeniqua Pass to George, where we stopped off to sample the coffee at Rocket, owned by Emmett, Matthew's brother, and then to our last stop, Knysna, for the rest of the weekend.
When in Rome… do as the locals do. Delicious moerkoffie (moer meaning sediment) and freshly made soft roosterkoek (the name means grill cake) with simple and tasty fillings.
Places held promise
The contrasts of environment, landscape, towns, people, and places served to imprint a storyline in our minds. A story of conquer and resistance, of movement to claim land, and a desire to live and prosper.
The few places that we touched down in and touched by held the promise of livelihood and opportunity. All suffer from the vagaries of the climate, seesawing between drought and flood; the stormy economy and equal measure of attention or neglect. Of course the complex history we carry with us as South Africans layers a ragged blanket over much.
And yet, there is still a great deal to offer. There is a willingness to welcome with warmth and hospitality. There is a desire to do more and better. We believe that, despite the dalliances and disregard that our government has for true progress, the people of this land can make a difference. They already do.
As we close what is the first of a few stories about our stay away, we invite you to share in some of the photos below 👇🏼. We hope they encourage you to journey forth too on a road trip to savour and experience the delights of your country. And we hope they entice you to visit ours if this is not where you live.
Until next time.
Yours in feeling,
Matthew & Chantal
Our groundbreaking emotional mastery course is now available online! With an average rating of 4.94, it will transform everything you know about emotions and mastering them.
Quaint, quirky, and quintessential
Below, you can see more images of the quaint, quirky, and quintessential aspects that make up life in this part of South Africa, observed during the first part of our trip.
Amazing landscapes and surprisingly good road quality. South Africa boasts the 10th longest road network in the world, with an incredible total of 750,000 kilometres!
Innovative use of acacia thorn branches (now referred to as Vachellia) for a novel ceiling at the Windmill Junction store in Graaff-Reinet.
A few steps back in time: A glimpse into one of the bedrooms at Reinet House, Graaff-Reinet.
Cool and white, the perfect respite from a hot Karoo afternoon.
Taking a moment to appreciate the stillness that drifts across the wide-open spaces and the beautiful, expansive sky of the Karoo.
The Dutch Reformed Church in Uniondale, built in 1884, faced challenges with its original sandstone tower, which could not withstand the continual ringing and swinging of the heavy bells. It had to be rebuilt in 1908.
A view from the Outeniqua Pass on the way down, quite literally, to George.
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