The Great African Camping Trip

On Thursday, my cousin James and I embarked on a 3-day, 2,000 km (or at least, very far) road trip up the West Coast.  I've never actually been west of Cape Town before, so it was amazing for me to see a new and beautiful part of the country, rough it just a little, and spend some quality time with my cousin.  I was lucky enough to get the authentic "African" experience over the course of the trip, which I now know must include: 10 parts gorgeous scenery, 2 parts dirt roads, 3 parts unbelievable people-watching, 5 parts history, and of course 1 part sketchiness.  Can't forget the sketchiness, it's the best part!

Day 1: We started off the trip with a tone of sophistication, by having coffee in the French-styled town of Franschhoek.  The scenery is breathtaking, with the mountains in the background and vineyards tucked away everywhere.  And although the old buildings make you feel like you've gone back 100 years, it is a little bit too touristy for my taste.  What makes me think this?  The leather goods, "African craft", and diamond jewelry shops that are sprinkled too generously along the main street- clearly trying to trap tourists into paying more than double for a beaded rhinoceros that you could probably buy on the side of the road for R10.  But anyhow, with the fancy coffee sustaining us, we began our journey into the wilderness.        

Me standing in front of a beautiful old building, with the mountains in the background.

Well, not quite the wilderness.  James and I knew that the Australian Open men's semifinal match, between Federer and Nadal, was taking place that morning, which we obviously couldn't miss because it's EPIC.  So with a wary eye on the clock, we stopped at nearly every sports bar or restaurant in the small farming towns that we drove through between Franschhoek and Ceres, hoping to find one that was a) open at 11 am, b) had a TV, and c) didn't run the risk of James' surfboards being stolen off the roof of the bakkie while our eyeballs were glued to the screen.  We ended up stopping at the "Calabash Bush Pub" which was literally in the middle of nowhere, and watched the first 2 sets or so, and then finished watching the match at a sports-type restaurant in Ceres.  Once we could put our minds to rest that yes, Federer had lost, we continued on with our search for a campsite to stay at for the night.

From Ceres we headed into the Cederberg area, which in my opinion has the most breathtaking scenery of the whole trip.  It's a very dry, hot, desert, with huge mountains and rock formations as far as the eye can see.  We found an amazing campsite, which was basically in the backyard of someone's farm.  We had the whole place to ourselves, complete with a swimming pool, huge grassy areas, nice bathrooms, and even 2 personal collie watchdogs.  So, I guess at that stage we weren't exactly "roughing it", but hey, we were camping!  So you've got to give us a little credit for that at least.            

James and I sitting in front of our braai after a swim.

James about to enjoy our dinner of boerevors, pork rashers, potatoes, butternut, and salad.  James accidentally dropped the meat on the ground (twice) but once the grass was dusted off it was delicious. 

Day 2:  The next day we continued our bumpy dirt-road drive through Cederberg, and stopped at the Stadsaal Caves to see the famous bushmen paintings.  The paintings are amazingly well-preserved after so many years, and you can clearly see the figures, complete with spears and generous bums.  

James, the San Bushmen, and some elephants.

Me standing in the caves

From there we drove through the Cederberg wine area, which is apparently famous.  Not being a wine-drinker myself, I didn't know that, but the farm was beautiful and definitely worth stopping at for a look. When we tried to leave, the bakkie wouldn't start, and it turns out that so much bumping and rattling along the dirt roads had loosened the spark plug.  Neither of us had a clue what was going on under the hood, but luckily a farm worker did, and tightened it for us.  Crisis averted!

On a side note, I just want to mention what it's like to drive through a desert with a surfer.  The trip had an added element of scavenger hunt, with James always on the search for a body of water to swim in.  Doesn't matter whether it was a random farmer's dam, a river, or a pool, if there was some water, we had to stop to swim in it.  I have to say that it did add an element of adventure to the trip.  My typical question would be "are we even allowed to swim in here?" and the response always "who's stopping us?"

By the end of the day, to James' relief, we had made our way back to the coast, to Lambert's Bay.  A typical West Coast fishing town, not the prettiest buildings or classiest locals, but we did find this gem of a house:

We ended up finding a campsite at Elands Bay (or rather Elandsbaai) with a beautiful sea view.  After a cup of tea, we went through the typical unpacking and setting up rigamarole, and then had another braai for dinner.

  The view from our chairs just after sunset

Day 3:  Here the adventure REALLY begins.  When we woke up at 6:30 am or so, we realized the car was unlocked.  But, wait, we locked it last night, right?  We figured out that we had accidentally left the driver's window rolled all the way down, and when we locked the car, it was so dark we didn't notice.  James' bag was lying outside the car with the pockets opened, and my ipod and James' cell phone were both gone.  Ok, it was very stupid to accidentally leave the window open with my ipod still in the car, I'll readily admit that it was my fault it got stolen.  I was practically inviting someone to steal it.  But still, a little creepy considering our tent was about 3 feet away!  

So, after sitting there for about 10 minutes being depressed, we had breakfast and packed up, and were about to head out of Elandsbaai when we saw a small police station and just decided to stop, just in case they may find the stolen stuff.  So we walked in and gave a description of our items to the policewoman.  She asked us a few questions about footprints, etc, which we obviously didn't remember seeing considering our site was made from sand.  But then when we mentioned 2 men, 1 big and 1 small, came by our site the previous night asking for money, she said, "AHA! It was them.  I know exactly who you're talking about- it's Koos and Broetjie!"  The town is so small she knew exactly what shady people we were talking about.  AND they knew exactly where they were, because within 10 minutes Koos slouched into the police station! A shifty, short little man that we definitely recognized from the night before.  Within 30 seconds of questioning, he admitted to having seen the ipod and phone, but readily blamed Broetjie for the actual theft. He got shoved in the lockup, and every 5 minutes or so would shout out in Xhosa or Afrikaans to the police lady, trying to figure out if we were going to press charges or not.  She got tired of that and made him start sweeping the courtyard.  During all this, the policewoman was very chatty, telling us all about these local druggies and how they go begging just to scope out the scene- how much equipment you have, how many males are around, how much stuff is lying around the campsite.  She said they have food and a house, but they steal for drugs.  She then mentioned how her throat was hurting every time she swallowed, and she was starting to feel feverish, so James went to the car and got her some vitamin C cold and flu tablets to put in her water.  She gladly accepted, drank the tonic, and went on talking.  

During all this, Broetjie took the policemen to the spot where he had buried my ipod, and they dug it up.  20 minutes later, they all walked in, the policeman handed me my ipod, and Broetjie plopped down on the chair next to James.  So there we were: Broetjie (which means bread roll in Afrikaans by the way), James, me, sitting in a row next to each other in the  one-room police station.  There was a long and intense conversation in Afrikaans between the police and Koos and Broetjie, which I of course didn't understand, but I bet my eyes were as big as saucers.  

The best part was when Koos mumbled something about fetching the spade from outside, walked out the door of the police station, and never came back.  And the 3 policemen were still standing there! They weren't too concerned, I guess because they knew it was a matter of hours before they found him again.  Apparently he was on parole for another theft from a vehicle, and so was terrified of being locked up again that he ran away.  The cop told Broetjie "Ja, you can run, but tomorrow we'll catch you", so he didn't go anywhere.  

So I had my ipod back, but James' Nokia phone was still missing.  Unfortunately, by 11 am Broetjie had already sold it to a guy named Seun, who lived in a neighboring town.  He had exchanged the phone for a button.  Which is a pill of ecstasy.  So because the phone had already been spirited away from Elandsbaai, the hunt for Seun was on the hands of another police station.  Since it was going to be another few hours wait to find out more, James and I drove to some nearby bushmen paintings and had tea there, before we went back to the police station.  You know, just so we had a little natural history interspersed with the CSI: Elandsbaai that was playing out.  When we went back at 1 pm, they still hadn't found out anything more, so we left my cell phone number and headed out, giving up James' phone for lost.  

I'm actually not sure what's going to happen to Koos and Broetjie, but since we would have to go back to testify, we didn't end up laying charges before we left.  I'm sure they'll have at least a little bit of jail time though, which I think they deserve.  

The police station of Elandsbaai- surprisingly effective!

From there we drove south down the coast back to Cape Town, stopping in at a few fishing villages like Paternoster, and got back to Kommetjie around 5 pm.  Let me tell you, I've never been so happy to stretch my legs and have a cup of tea.  I slept amazingly well in my bed last night- that's one of the benefits of camping for sure!  

The trip was definitely one of the highlights of my time here in South Africa, and as you can see, I definitely got the genuine African experience, sketchiness included.  More than just 1 part sketchiness actually.  But I wouldn't exchange that for anything!    

        

    

Goodbye Jeffreys, it's been baie lekker!

Here are finally some photos of Jeffreys Bay!  I left on Tuesday to head back to Cape Town, and was so sad to say goodbye.  The 5 weeks I spent working in the laid-back little surf town are definitely some of the best of my trip so far.  Never mind the aching feet, hectic workdays, or 1-day weekends, I will never forget the amazing people that I got to know!  The family that I stayed with were so generous to me, and I felt very at home there.  I was even starting to understand more and more Afrikaans, given another 3 months I probably would've become a proper Afrikaans meisie.  And the little white diesel truck and I had actually become good, although rattly, friends, despite everyone at work's disbelief that I drove such a "huge" car around (if they only knew what tanks people drove in America, this one would've been tiny.)  I'm glad that I'll probably be back for a few days before I leave South Africa, final goodbyes are definitely one of my least favorite things. 

Some of the crew at InFood, standing in front of the deli counter.  

From left to right: Victoria, me, Julia, Jayne (holding Eskimo), Adolf, and Amy.

Me and the coffee guys, Percy and Charles.  It says a lot about them that I actually put this photo on the blog, seeing as in this photo my apron makes me look like I'm misshapenly pregnant.  But, however unflattering the kangaroo look is, I couldn't leave them out!  I was the only waitress who was required to wear that nuisance apron, allegedly to "model" the merchandise.  Bitterness aside, I'm going to miss those guys! 

Me and Leo, my J Bay boyfriend.  He and I went on long walks on the beach, played catch, and canoodled on the rug.  We had a few fights, mostly over him leaving white hairs ALL over my black work clothes, and ended up breaking up because long-distance relationships just don't work.  But he'll always have a spot in my heart.

The view from the balcony, on the morning I woke up at 5 am to drive to Cape Town.  The first (and last) sunrise I saw in J Bay, wish I had seen more!

   One of our stops on the drive through the Langkloof from Jeffreys to Cape Town.  Before you get too scandalized/excited/disapproving, this wasn't actually a sex shop.  Just a normal restaurant-bar along the road in the middle of nowhere.  Apparently Ronnie always had a semi-successful shop, named "Ronnie's Shop" but one time when he went on holiday, his friend painted the extra word as a joke.  Which turned out to be a huge favor, given that word spread and business has thrived ever since!

Ok, now I'm feeling thoroughly nostalgic!  But anyway, I'll pull myself together.  I suppose if you are sad to leave somewhere, it's an indicator of what a good experience it was.  Of which I'm sure I will have many more in the upcoming months.  Also, if I want to make myself feel better about leaving, all I need to think about is waitressing while wearing that apron, with black clothes, in 90-degree humidity, without air conditioning.  For an indecisive table of 8, outside in the garden.  There we go, slightly better already.

More news to come!  

Behind the Scenes

So when you're eating out at a restaurant, you probably don't spend a lot of time thinking about what's going on behind the scenes.  Like what type of people are preparing your food, how clean they are, how much of what you're eating has been frozen for 2 weeks, how well-washed your cutlery is, what the waiters are saying behind your back, etc.  I know I never did!  BUT having witnessed all of the above, and been a part of it myself, I now have a totally different outlook on restaurants and eating out.  It no longer seems...as appetizing.  Not that InFood isn't a really clean, efficient, and fresh restaurant, because it is, but it shows that every restaurant, even the best places that use the most local/organic/hand-made ingredients, still have some skeletons in the closet because that's just the way it is.

For instance, when the cooks are in a rush, (and even when they're not in a rush) they use their hands when preparing your meal.  Your food HAS been touched by a bare human hand, that has previously touched something else.  I guarantee it.  And waiters don't use tongs to put bread on a serving platter, are you kidding me?  We don't have time for that!  The best you can hope for is that your waiter is a clean person who washes their hands fairly regularly.  Also, "fresh" is a very loosely-used term.  I'm not saying the food wasn't fresh 1 week ago, but fridges and freezers are a key component of a busy restaurant with a very varied menu, so don't take any menu description with the word "fresh" in it too seriously.  Realistically, is the restaurant going to hand-prepare new burger patties, seafood, chicken, soups, steak, and sauces, every single day?  I don't think so.  They make it in medium-sized batches, and then store it for a while, to maximize time and efficiency.  I'm sure my restaurant makes more things fresh than the average restaurant, given that they bake their own breads every morning, but still, it's impossible to make everything, everyday.

Over the past month or so, working as a waitress has also taught me more about what NOT to do as a patron of a restaurant.  Here are a few tips for you, for the sake of all other waiters and waitresses out there:

1.  If you flag the waiter down to order, please please don't then spend 2 minutes silently perusing the menu while we wait, clearing our throats, bursting with irritation while thinking about the million and one things we still need to do in the next 5 minutes. 

2.  It's not our fault if food or drinks take a long time!  I know it's irritating if your glass of orange juice takes 15 minutes to arrive, but it really is outside of our control.  I guess I can't speak for all waitresses, but I've found that harassing the baristas about your order only annoys them, and in the end doesn't really correlate with faster service.  They make the orders in the order they arrive, and so if the drinks for a table of 10 go in right before your 1 glass of orange juice, well the orange juice just has to wait!  I can sweet talk or harang them all I want, but when it comes down to it I can't really do anything about it.

3.  Please don't request any extra fancy sauces to go with your oder.  I've been the victim of this many times, and I can tell you that it's probably going to take forever in waiter-time to go on a wild goose chase to search through fridges and buried containers in the kitchen just to locate that special chilli sauce or fancy mayonnaise for you.  Yes, I have hunted down fresh ginger and a grater, during the lunch rush, just to add to somebody's juice.  I'm not exaggerating.  I was not too impressed with that particular customer, let me tell you. 

4.  Don't show up to a restaurant 5 minutes before closing, even if it's just for coffee.  All of the waiters will stare at you, silently curse you, and think that you're a terrible human being for making everyone wait an extra half an hour before they can start cleaning up to go home.  One time, 2 ladies came and ordered coffee and cake 5 minutes AFTER we were supposed to be closed, and thought nothing of having a good ol' chat for about 20 more minutes while we all stood around!  Some people.

But anyway, those are my biggest pet peeves (aside from non-tippers!) and I'm sure if you avoid these things you will have a very happy waiter, and therefore probably better service!

Overall I've enjoyed working in the restaurant, especially meeting and getting to know everyone who works there.  Sometimes we have a bit of a communication problem, me with my Amurrcan accent and them with their strong Afrikaans, Zulu, or Shona accents, but with a few good, loud, repetitions we usually get the gist of what the other one is saying.  One time I was looking for a bag to put a rotisserie chicken in for a customer, and when I went to the kitchen to find one, I had to repeat myself so many times that I was nearly shouting by the end of it.  Finally, Sandy said, "oh, a packet?"  It's funny how 1 word can make such a difference.  I've made friends with Charles, one of the baristas, a Zimbabwean guy who just got married to a girl named Happiness.  It was so cute, the week leading up to the wedding he was so nervous and hyped up, and then the day after (he couldn't afford a honeymoon) he was beaming with a smile as wide as anything with a sparkly gold ring on his finger.  He lives in a township, but in a house luckily.  Rejoice is my favorite, she works in the back baking quiches, spanakopitas, etc, and always has a hankering for leftover bacon that people leave behind on their plates.  Today when I walked by she was chopping spinach while simultaneously perusing the newspaper ads.  The epitome of multitasking!  She has a very sly smile and funny giggle, and goes by "Joicy" or "Spanakopita".  I will definitely miss the people when I finish working in 1 1/2 weeks, although I have to say after only having 4 days off in the past month, I am definitely ready for a break.  Vacation number 2, here I come....