After a day of both excitement and relaxation at a paradise spot in the mountains, I met my next hosts later this day. I spent the night in the cozy bunkhouse of Patrick and Karin in Gordon’s Bay.
Carla woke me up around 9 o’clock, as it was my second day with Carla’s family. For breakfast, Carla served sliced guavas and pineapple. While the pineapple was a delightful treat, I wasn’t too keen on the guavas—too many seeds and a bit too jelly-like for my morning stomach. But with toast, jams, and a newspaper, we managed to fuel up for the day’s adventure.
Carla had arranged a sleeveless shirt from Suzie for me since all I had were T-shirts. It was a bit snug, and Carla’s mother joked that I looked like a friend from the 80s time-traveling into the present. I was ready and sunblocked for a day in the hot sun. Let’s go!
We headed towards the Steenbras River mouth, nestled in one of the many valleys of the Hottentots Holland Mountains. At a local gas station, Carla picked up some bottles of water and chips for our survival kit.
Armed with biltong to chew on and thoroughly sunblocked skin (better to overdo it than underdo it), we trekked through the mountain valley toward this magical place.
The hike involved walking through green bushes and low trees, crossing creeks, and climbing over rocks marked with yellow footprints. It was quite exhausting—climbing up a mountain isn’t easy, especially under the direct sun. We took breaks to catch our breath and sip water, motivated by the promise of paradise ahead.
After about an hour of hiking, we reached our destination, and it was stunning! The dam high up in the mountains was full, with excess water cascading down the valley to form the Steenbras River. The water, rich with minerals from rocks and plants, flowed over rocks in magnificent waterfalls, creating pools with a golden hue.
Carla and I settled near one pool, surrounded by lush greenery on one side and a 20-meter waterfall on the other. I couldn’t resist jumping into the water, despite its chilly temperature. Some youngsters were diving off rocks, and despite Carla’s warnings about the remote location, I joined in. Carla snapped a great photo of me mid-leap, making a huge splash.
Swimming, sitting under waterfalls, and diving off rocks made for a pleasant time. If we’d brought a tent, I would have stayed much longer. The place had an exceptional atmosphere, perfect for memories. Perhaps I’ll need this memory someday if I find myself in a dry wasteland without water…
Around 3 PM, we made our way back, applying another layer of sunblock, though I still managed to get a bit sunburned.
Gasping for air, we returned to the car. Carla then took me for a brief stop at Strand Beach, where the icy cold Indian Ocean’s waves were a refreshing relief, cooling off my sunburn with its salty water.
Back at Carla’s family home, I packed my bags after a much-needed nap. Carla’s mother then dropped me off at the gas station where my next host would pick me up. I hugged Carla goodbye and thanked her family for the two wonderful nights in Somerset West.
My next hosts, Patrick and Karin, welcomed me at the gas station and drove me in their pickup to their home in Gordon’s Bay, just down the hill from Somerset West.
Patrick is a retired journalist and photographer from the local District Mail, but remains active in photography on a freelance basis. He had heard about my project on CapeTalk radio and decided to invite me over, as he had the space.
Patrick shared that after traveling the globe, he appreciated the simplicity of bunkhouses during his Canada tour in Alaska. Back in South Africa, he had a small two-person bunkhouse built in his garden, where I was to stay.
Karin had prepared the bunkhouse for me, complete with a little gas stove and even a refrigerator. I was definitely being spoiled!
As Patrick prepared dinner, Karin shared stories about her life on a remote farm in Namibia. She described the challenges of living without constant electricity and the long-distance telephone connections. A Namibian-German, Karin noted, “I am more German than a German in Germany.”
We enjoyed dinner around their round wooden table as I shared my travel stories and Patrick discussed his interest in historical travel diaries. At the moment, he was engrossed in a diary of a seaman from the 17th century.
Patrick assured me I could take my time the next day as he had no plans. Karin would be working at the distribution center of the local newspaper, so I wouldn’t see her when I woke up. When Karin mentioned I’d have to do the dishes, Patrick insisted, “He is our guest.” Karin protested, “But he gets everything for nothing, sweetie-pie!” To which Patrick replied, “That’s the great part of his project,” and they both laughed. My offer to do the dishes was graciously declined.
As I settled into my bunkhouse later that night, I felt the strong southeastern wind blowing through town. Patrick had warned me about it, but assured me the bunkhouse was sturdy. The wind, marking the start of summer in South Africa, was something to get used to.
Good night, Gordon’s Bay!
Ramon
