Defying Death and a DIY Safari

As Orientation came to a close and classes leered in the future, the majority of the people on my program couldn't help but notice the week we had off in between. Choosing to take advantage of that time, nearly everyone decided to blow some money they may or may not have had to do some traveling around South Africa. While some groups with a little more foresight took extensive trips to neighboring countries such as Namibia, Botswana, and Zimbabwe, by far the most popular choice was to check out South Africa's Garden Route. The Garden Route is the stretch of one of South Africa's main highways, the N2, that runs along the coast of the South and Eastern Cape. Along the way are countless places to stop and do some pretty amazing things. I've heard that it takes about 2 weeks to stop and do everything one might want to, but seeing as we only had 4 days we had to make some tough choices.

The first of which was how to go about doing this. Some choose to go on a professional tour, others to use a hop-on-hop-off bus, and others check out the train. What seemed to allow for the most freedom as well as cost the least amount of money was to rent a car and drive yourself, which is what I ended up doing. Teamed with 3 other girls I've met since being here (coincidentally enough 2 of them actually go to Barnard), we packed up our bright blue Nissan with snacks and maps and guidebooks (oh my!) and took off on the open road--on the left-hand side. Becca and Ellen took turns at the wheel while Betsy and I snacked in the back, trying hard not to offer our oh-so-helpful driving tips. No one likes a back-seat driver.

We did most of our planning during the first couple hours in the car, calling hostels--called "backpackers" here--and booking reservations for tours and the like. While there were some disagreements, the general consensus to keep an open mind and maintain a laid back, go with the flow attitude served us well.

Now we come to the part that I have least been looking forward to writing. I had been determined from the start to keep this blog from being a day-by-day itinerary slash travel diary. However, I think that may be the best way to describe everything I did last week. Here goes, hopefully with minimal damage to my creativity.

Day 1: Monday, Feb 9

The first day was filled with a lot of driving. We watched beautiful scenes of vineyards, farms, and the occasional glimpse of the ocean roll by our windows for the roughly 4 1/2 hours it took us to reach our first destination, Mossel Bay. Mossel Bay is a small ocean town, which seemed to thrive on its tourist industry and boasted such attractions as a ferry to Seal Island, Shark Cage Diving, and extreme water sports. As we didn't arrive until nearly 3:30 in the afternoon many of these options were exhausted for us. Deciding to take advantage of the weather, though, we rented some sea kayaks and took to the open water.

Backing up just a wee bit, the backpacker we chose to stay in in Mossel Bay was one of those things which may be a fantastic idea, but not so clutch in actuality. We spent the night at the Santos Express, which is an old train car that has found permanent residence right on the beach. Cool, right? It is until you end up in a train car filled with bunk beds, filled with people, complete with windows that barely open. (More info on Santos here: http://www.santosexpress.co.za/)

But the story of the Santos Express, or at least our experience with it, is a humorous one. We decided to save some money by staying in the dorm car instead of taking two double rooms, gambling on who else we might share our room. We arrived to meet who would come to affectionately be known as our "Man-mate" (as in Room-mate). Our Man-mate, whose name remains a mystery, was a middle-aged Dutch man, born in Jerusalem, who was taking a holiday touring South Africa. He was very friendly and unobtrusive, if anything we would have loved to talk to him more, to learn more about his travels and family. But there is something intrinsically funny about four college girls all of a sudden bursting into what had previously been a room occupied by one older man.

Monday being my birthday, after sea kayaking we made our way to Delfino's for dinner. Our table on the porch was once again right on the beach, providing us with a great show of surfers catching their final waves of the day as the moon rose. We shared a couple gourmet pizzas, chock full of delicious toppings, and a couple bottles of the "talking, eating, drinking, laughing, singing, sharing wine" (verbatim how it was advertised) before we headed back to our train.

Back at the train we were surprised to find that our Man-mate was no longer our only roommate, as the entire car was filled with other people from CIEE who had apparently had the same hopes for the beach train as we had. It was a stuffy, restless, night.

Day 2: Tuesday, Feb 10

Adventure Day. After making an early start and checking out of the train at 8:00 am we made our way to Bloukrans Bridge, which at a drop of just over 700 ft is the highest bungee jumping bridge in the world. Seriously. Three of the four of us decided to take the plunge, alternating between excited and terrified the whole 2 hour drive there.

Turns out, Bloukrans is incredibly well organized. While it is nearly impossible to put one at ease who will imminently hurl oneself off a bridge, you immediately got the sense that everyone who worked there was not only qualified, but genuinely in love with their jobs. Here is the order of operations for bungee jumping:

1. Shell out R620 ($62) and sign your life away.
2. Step on the scale and have your weight written with bold black marker on the back of your right hand. (This will be read out loud in tandem with your name for the rest of the day. Good thing it is in kg, which I don't fully understand).
3. Walk over to the harness station where you get fitted with a highly attractive yellow harness. There was definitely no camel toe involved, at all, ever.
4. Join your jump group, mine had about 20 people, and begin the walk down to the bridge. Up until this point you had been on solid ground, far away from the edge of the cliff.
5. Make your way to the center of the bridge, where a large holding station is waiting, by walking through a sort-of cage tunnel made of galvanized mesh. Able to see through the floor to the ground below you, many of the guys I spoke to thought this was the most terrifying part of the whole experience. I highly disagree.
6. At the center of the bridge is a DJ booth with loud music to pump you up and get you excited. While we waited for our turns--which was a surprise as the order was chosen randomly as we went--everyone danced, clapped, and cheered.
7. Wait, wait, and wait for your turn. Getting more and more nervous. I was the very last one from my group to go; figures.
8. Finally they strap your feet together and attach a safety harness to the carabiner at your waist. A man then gets on either side of you and helps you hop to the edge of the platform, reinforcing the fact that your toes must be over the edge before you begin.
9. Arms outstretched, still with the nice strong men at your sides, they begin to count down.
10. 5-4-3-2-1-BUNGEE!!!! And away you go.

This experience was seriously like none other, how can anything compare? For the first 5 seconds you free-fall, and you think that you may actually die--or at least thats what I thought. Screaming at this point is inevitable (as seen in my photos below). Exhilarated but relieved when I could feel the bungee taut at my ankles I was able to enjoy the rest of the ride and take in the incredible scenery. For me the most disconcerting part was waiting upside down at the end for some one to come down and get you. But of course he did (I wish I knew his name), and we had a nice chat about UCT as we rode back up to the bridge.

Of course I have photos that chronicle this event, and I also have a DVD so we can all watch when I get back.

That afternoon, still high on our death-defying morning, we headed to Tsitsikamma National Park where all four of us took a zip-line canopy tour of the forest. We spent roughly 2 hours zipping through the tree tops with our 2 guides, Vernon and Pandora, and a cheery British couple. Not only did we have a great time, but we learned that the company that runs the tours is focused on creating a self-sustaining community, only hiring locals locals as tour guides. There was also a restaurant run completely by the women in the community. They make a mean grilled cheese and tomato sandwich.

That night we stayed in Plettenberg Bay, another beautiful little town on the ocean. Our backpacker, Amakaya (http://www.amakaya.co.za/), is owned by Donald--a 30ish surfer-type--and his father, and managed by Leroy, who lives there with his young son. Once again we ran into more kids from CIEE, but Donald and Leroy were more than happy to entertain us all with stories about travelers they had met. Donald, thinking himself very wise, also dished out life advice in a way I imagine only an aging surfer can do.

Day 3: Wednesday, Feb 11

Raining. Raining. Annoying, plan-spoiling rain. With only a day left we didn't have the liberty to rearrange our schedule completely, so we piled on the layers and headed to Knysna Elephant Park. While the plan had been to ride the giant pacaderms, this wasn't available due to--check it--the rain. So we had to settle for feeding and petting them, getting thoroughly soaked and muddy in the process. Of course everyone knows that elephants are huge, but I was surprised at just how large the scale was. They loom above you, with their wise eyes looking down and lean (yes, surprising) legs reaching towards the sky.

Following the elephants we made our way to our final hostel, this time in Knysna (pronounced nie-z-na). Called Peace of Eden, our backpacker was situated in the "magical" Knysna forest and run by an older couple. Jen and Howard were incredibly accommodating, booking us a cabin for just the four of us, giving us advice on where to visit, and even making us dinner.

After dinner the four of us got into a long conversation with Jen about politics, both American and South African. It is amazing how tuned into international politics South Africans are, knowing minute details about the American election and being able to speak knowledgeably about just as well, and in many cases better, than many Americans. It makes me embarrassed at just how little I know about what is going on in the rest of the world.

I am excited to learn, however, just how big an impact Obama's election has had on South Africa, and most likely the rest of the world (I may be generalizing, but you get the gist). We have been told many times that our recent election has inspired South Africans to register to vote in larger numbers than ever before. Although we Americans know that Obama's election is not favored by everyone, it continues to send a positive image to the rest of the world. While we were once an embarrassment, Americans can now hold their heads high abroad again, knowing that we have taken our future into our own hands.

Day 4: Thursday, Feb 12

Last day. Our goal was to find a trail in the forest that Jen told us about before making the 6ish hour trip home. However--once again--things didn't work out quite how we planned.

The short of it is that we got lost. Unable to translate the map, we ended up following a meandering road through the Knysna forest for nearly an hour. As we drove we weaved in and out of cliffs and trees, and eventually passed through the forest to farmlands. Along the way we saw a number of monkeys, baboons, springboks, cows, dogs, and birds. This prompted us to dub the morning a "Create Your Own Safari," as by the time we reached the N2 once again we had seen more animals than we had to date.

Then began the long drive back. We got the car back at the right time and made our way home, exhausted and grimy but perfectly happy. Classes the next day seemed like a rude awakening to reality.

Below is a list of the friends we met along the way, a Cast of Characters, if you will:

Cast of Characters (in order of appearance):

Thrifty Car guy: Taught us how to drive on the left side of the road and reminded us to undo the safety break
Woman w/ facepaint: Waving a flag to direct traffic
Truck driver #1: Gave us directions on the N2 in the middle of traffic when we thought we were lost (but weren't)
Hilda: Unhelpful but smiley lady working at the Santos Express
Man-mate: Middle-aged Dutch man, our first roommate
Maggie/Jacky: Rented us sea kayaks and recommended a restaurant for my birthday dinner--the antithesis of Hilda (see above)
Marc the Cabbie: Gave us a ride home
Old Inspirational Kayak Man: Showed Betsy and I how to get our kayak back into the water after we accidentally capsized onto the beach
Matt: Another UCT study abroad student we met bungee jumping
Pandora and Vernon: Zip-line tour guides
British Couple: Funny, curiously good at zip-lining
Leroy & Son: Might be a little racist
Donald: Thinks he is 25, but is 32
Ralph: Waiter at a restaurant in Plett
Andrea: Ralph's gf
Elephant Trainer: Awesome, he knew everything about elephants, is afraid of bungee jumping
Jen: Hippie mom-away-from-home
Howard: Married to Jen
Kathy: Peace of Eden employee
Mark: Nephew of Jen and Howard, doesn't believe in Capitalism, prefers the barter system
Thomas: Friend of Mark
Aussie Lady: Resident of Peace of Eden, just moved to South Africa indefinitely
Truck Driver (with dogs): Laughed at us, but got us un-lost in the Knysna forest
Woman with the Broken Road: Self-explanatory?
Party Van: Full of Eastern Europeans (maybe?), stationed behind us when we had to wait at a traffic stop on the highway for 10 minutes. They loved us, they told us so.

Ok. The end.