Who Cares

I don’t know anything about blogging and I don’t like the word blog, but I am told that blogging is the thing to do and it works, so I will give it a go and reserve my comments for later.

Well we have begun. There are so many things running through my mind that I feel quite panicky, that is why I am up this Sunday morning 14^th November at 6 am our first morning away. I have been lying in bed trying to figure out how I am going to structure our time, as if I (if I say “I” I most probably mean “we”, and  if I say “mine” I most probably mean “our” like my children…I digress!) do not have a structure I will never be able to do all that I want to do on this journey of OURS As we all know it is indeed structure that gives freedom, but more about that later.

So what I think I should do is have a Preface to this journey or story of ours as it is indeed the stories that interest me (us!)

PREFACE

I had the unbelievably good fortune of meeting Ewa at International Students House (ISH) while studying in London. Good fortune because it was an amazing place to stay!! I am joking, because she was and is an amazing lady and an amazingly good dentist. But the real good fortune is ISH is truly what it says, it is a hostel of International students.

About five or seven years ago, news of the death of Pavan Sawney, one of the real characters that we met at ISH, triggered this idea in my head of doing a Friendship Tour around the world to make contact again with all the wonderful characters and friends that we met at ISH as well as in our travels since. I have been on at Ewa about this idea ever since, but there has always been a reason why we couldn’t do it, more often than not it was money, but for many other reasons as well, like the abandonment of the duties or responsibilities that we all have.

Then one stunningly beautiful summer evening in Cape Town, Justin my (our!) son who is in the film industry and was filming on Llandudno beach, called us and said we HAD to come down to Llandudno for a sun downer as it was an absolutely beautiful afternoon down on the beach. Well as we all know the traffic at 5 in the evening is bloody awful, so I said to Ewa “Why don’t we go down on the motorbike?”

Now I have to tell you that the motorbike in question was given to me by Willie Landman, a truly wonderful person and really great friend of ours, when he and the family immigrated to New Zealand.

So on the bike we hopped and beetled off to Llandudno for a glass of wine while watching a spectacular sun fall into the Atlantic Ocean, after which, full of good feelings and wellbeing we drove home via

Rhodes Drive

, which on a day like that really is a stunning drive. When we got home Ewa hopped of the bike and said “Why don’t we do the Friendship Tour on a motorbike?” to which I replied “Why don’t we do the Friendship Tour on this bike and ride up to Willie’s door in New Zealand and not tell him we are coming?”

So that is what we are going to do! So please don’t tell him if you know him!

Once this seed was planted I just had to see it come to fruition. However Ewa said that if we were going to do the Friendship Tour, she was not sure that New Zealand would be her preferred starting point and suggested South America. The appeal of South America to me was that before the grey cells disappeared completely, I MAY be able to pick up a bit of Spanish. So South America it was, but still there were all sorts of reasons why we couldn’t start. Then in Feb 2009 Brother Rich invited us up to Kabula Lodge on the West side of the Zambezi River in Zambia. This sounded like a great opportunity to test our endurance on the bike. If we were intending to travel around South America on a motorbike a test drive closer to home seemed the sensible thing to do. So August 2009 off we went and there in lies another story. 8500 kms later we stopped for our last homeward bound breakfast at Die Tol restaurant in Piekenaars Kloof. We had just sat down when I turned on my phone for the first time in ages and there was an urgent message from home. I called home thinking that maybe Asterix our 19 year old Maltese had died. However it was sadder news. Our very, very good friend Butch Baker had died of a heart attack while walking his dogs above Noordhoek. He was 59.

That was all I needed, that was the decider. We HAD to go now before it was too late. Riding a big bike at 62 with Ewa on the back requires a certain level of strength and health and time is running out. That is the one thing, but as Brother Rich says “Why in the name of God do you want to go on a motorbike”?

The answer to Brother Rich’s question is simple. It is a better story. When Ewa and I travel we like to do it from the inside looking out. I am happy to look AT things, but I prefer being on the other side and looking out at things. The best experiences are had from the inside looking out. My experience is that the poorer the people the more generous the people and you are unlikely to meet these people if you look at them through the electric window of a big 4*4, and  there is no way I can fix a big modern 4*4. Walking would be the best option, but we don’t have the time. Cycling would be OK but I have never been a fan of cycling. Public transport is another type of story as we found out when in 1975 we saw a red double decker bus in

Constitution Square

in Delhi that said Victoria Street Station on the front and we got on and were taken for the ride of our lives! We have done public transport. So a motorbike seems like a good option.

I have never been one to lie on a beach doing nothing, going around the world on a motor bike is one thing, and I am sure we will come across all sorts of things and people that will make it an exceptional experience, but it is the exceptional people and the things that they do, that really interest me. Besides the obvious things one enjoys while travelling it is the person “Who Cares” that I will seek out and the people who don’t care?

Who Cares!

THE BEGINNING:

Saturday 13^th November 9.00 am, we are away! I never leave at 9.00am always when the sun comes up, “why?” because that’s what we do! But Friday evening we were having a great time and conversation over a last supper with Alex and his friends, we had earlier been persuaded by our wonderful neighbours to share a glass of farewell champagne and it would have been very rude of us to turn down that sort of hospitality! So I said to Ewa “As we only have to be back in June 2011, it is not going to make a great deal of difference if we depart at 6.00am or not, better enjoy the moment”, so we did as well as the champagne!

Alex Hooper owner of Highgate Ostrich Farm is one of my greatest friends from my schooldays and we have many stories to reminisce about. I called him up before we left to see if he was going to be at home in Oudtshoorn on the evening of the 13^th. As it happened he was coming to CT to see his daughters and grand children prior to his departure for Oman in two weeks, where he is going with 15 Ostriches, and five ostrich jockeys to provide entertainment for the Sultan of Oman! So he caught the regular bus to CT and took the Hawkins bus back to Oudtshoorn where he was personally collected from the Lord Charles in Somerset West!

As usual he was very abusive about the Kombi, but recognised the limited hijacking risk associated with and old vehicle. I would have taken the N1 to Worcester, Robertson, Ashton, Montague, Barrydale and was about to do so, when Alex said that route would add an hour to the trip, and suggested that Sir Lowery’s Pass, Swellendam, the Tradouw Pass to Barrydale was a quicker option. Due to an excess of conversation and a shortage of concentration, we missed the Botrivier turnoff and went sailing on to Hermanus!  But once a left at the next intersection saw us safely back on the N2, which saw us on our merry way to Swellendam, well sort of merry. Just after Caledon the Kombi lurched for a split second as though it was running out of petrol. Bearing in mind that the engine had just been completely rebuilt and was purring like a grinning cat when we left Cape Town, as well as the fact that this was the vehicle that was to be our only home for the next two months and had just begun a trip to Northern Mozambique via Malawi, any alteration in the purring sound of the cat made my heart sink. I felt sick, but the problem did not recurr, so on we pressed to Swellendam and the Tradouw Pass. What a spectacular pass and well worth the change from our normal route to Oudtshhoorn. We did not have time to stop at Suurbraak the picturesque village you pass before ascending the pass, but certainly next time this will be on our agenda.

Emerging from the spectacular Tradouw Pass you pass through Barrydale. Had we left at our usual departing time of 6.00am Barrydale would have been the perfect place to breakfast at one of the many inviting farm store type establishments, but the heat of the day and the desire to quench our thirst made Ronnie’s Sex Shop the perfect place to take a breather! Much has been written about Ronnie’s Sex Shop, but I am sure nothing has been written about Ronnie Who Cares.

Because Alex has spent all his life in the Hospitality and Tourism Business, he knows Ronnie quite well. For those who don’t know Ronnie I would describe him as a Hippy Biker of the 60’s. We had a pleasant drink surrounded by the bra’s, panties and graffiti that it is well known for, but as we were about to leave Ronnie takes Alex to the back of the shop and shows him a wine box that was so full of small change money that it would be impossible to pick up. It is a collection that Ronnie has begun for the mentally handicapped school in Oudtshoorn where Sonje, Alex’s partner, teaches. I was and am bowled over. Can you imagine if we all made these little contributions in life, what a difference we could make to a whole variety of needy institutions and people. Ronnies Sex Shop would have been the last place I would have looked for someone Who Cares.

There is something special about being with old friends, perhaps I am at the point where I should say “friends I have known for a long time!” The one thing that you realise is that people don’t really change, they may look a little more wrinkled, fat or thin, but intrinsically we remain the same. I like that. I have not seen a great deal of Alex Hooper over the years, but we have remained in quite regular contact and he has certainly not changed a great deal since our school days and his partner Sonje is delightful. If your job is working with disabled people you can’t be anything else but caring They Care.

Oudtshoorn has never been a place that really grabs me, but I must say the main drag is littered with really quaint houses and a number of restaurants that I would have loved to try out and I certainly can not complain about all aspects of the restaurant where we had our evening meal Bella something or other!

The drive too, through and over the Swartberg pass is absolutely spectacular and I can’t think why I have never done it before. It would have been a whole lot more enjoyable had the Kombi not decided to stop on a blind bend. Stopping on a blind bend is not good for the blood pressure, and if you are going to stop on a blind bend better not consider this if there is a cycle race coming at you from the other direction. What happens is that the other cars need to overtake you as they certainly don’t care, the competitors are doing there damndest to negotiate the hairpin bend at speed on a gravel road so their only concern is staying alive. It had all the elements of a serious disaster. The air was turned blue by the abuse being hurled at me. Not a good situation. Thank the Lord I managed to start the kombi for long enough to get round the corner and up about 20m up the 1:1 gradient when it cut out for completely. I sent Ewa ahead to warn the descending cyclists, and I went back to the previously mentioned hairpin bend to warn the ascending vehicles. Then I discovered that there IS a God! The very first vehicle that came were friends of ours from Cape Town taking their Dutch cousins on a scenic road trip! They drove straight pass me but recognised Ewa who I think was now standing naked to catch people’s attention! Desperate times require desperate measures. The result of al this is that I managed to find and fix the fault on the Kombi and besides the raised adrenalin level of a number of people we live to enjoy another day and the rest of the spectacular drive through the Swartburg down into Prince Albert. Apparently the Cycle Race was called Die Hell and Back. Madness, but I guess it takes all sorts.

Prince Albert is quaint, and well worth a visit, but as with a number of these “discovered” little towns, you get the feeling of an underlining discontent between the new arrivals and the old residents, the have’s and the have nots.

Great hospitality over the weekend from another very old friend, some unbelievably good valued wine from Bergwater, and a good nights rest saw us on our way to Addo Game Reserve.

To me Addo was an Elephant Reserve and that was that, the thought that we would not find ANY accommodation or camp sites did not even occur to me! But that was the case. All accommodation was fully booked for the next fortnight and this is the low season. So clearly the expansion of this Reserve and the whole of the Eastern Cape as a Game Area, plus the lack of Malaria are all working well and the bringing in the Tourist $. Advice? Book before you get there!

Homeless yet again we drove on to more wonderful friends up the Baviaans River. There is something special about these remote farmers who are descendents of the 1820 Settlers. First of all they tough and self sufficient. When I said to Will “don’t you get cut off when the rivers come down?” “Not really, maybe for three day or so, but its not a problem” was his reply. In the outside world the lack of movement for three days would be a mind blowing problem! The other thing is there is almost a symbiotic relationship between the people, the land and all that is on it. They really do care for one another.

Further cups of tea, laughter and tears with more friends in Bedford and Adelaide, saw us heading for The Hog’s Back, but the mist and rain drove us to lower pastures and we headed for the coast through the Ciskei and all the villages where I had spent two years of my life trying to make a difference by setting up Ciskei Small Industries. One notable project was the manufacture of 20,000 Teddy Bears in the villages of the Ciskei! To this day I can not help but smell the Teddy Bears in the OK Bazaars, as making Bears in the huts of the Ciskei on a winters day tends to give the soft cuddly toys an aroma that was not part of the original order!

Did I make a difference? The buildings are still there and occupied but the ethos died when the CNDC muscled in on the scene. Maybe I made a difference to three families at the most. I hope so. Ewa says I should have stayed on. I thought back then in 1979 that it would be possible to be above politics and if you intentions were sincere it would be possible to operate. I was proved wrong.

I thought it would get warmer as we moved North? Wrong again, but who is complaining we are in Chintsa in what must be in one of the most beautiful camp sites in SA. I promised myself that I would paint every day and to date that is the case.