Sunday morning I left Fish Hoek and went to the Cape Town airport to pick up my rental car. Thus began an adventure more intimidating than anything I might have encountered out on the ocean: in South Africa, the driver's side of a car is on the right, and people drive in the left lane.
Actually, it didn't take me that long to get the hang of it. I just kept telling myself to imagine the mirror image of everything I do while driving at home. Even the roundabouts didn't bother me much. There's a roundabout I drive regularly in Memphis--it's on the route between my house and the riverfront--so I probably understand the concept better than the average American. The only thing that persistently gave me trouble was remembering that the turn signal arm is on the right side of the steering column. Over and over I would try to signal a turn and the windshield wipers came on.
The driving also got easier once I was out of the Cape Town metro area. I headed north for several hours, during which the surrounding landscape became rolling plains, similar to what you see in western Nebraska. That gave way to rockier, more rugged and mountainous terrain that looked somewhat like New Mexico. The tree species were the main indication that I was in fact someplace else.
And where was I? The Cederberg Wilderness Area, whose semiarid climate is another similarity with New Mexico. I'd booked lodging at Driehoek Farms, a working farm that supplements its income with a campground and cabins. I checked into my cabin and turned in soon after.
My plan was to spend two full days, Monday and Tuesday, exploring a little. Thoroughly worn out from the camp, I wasn't planning any ambitious backcountry treks; several short day hikes would be enough to make me happy.
Further limiting my choices was the closure of some areas to hiking because of wildfires in the area about two months earlier. Apparently frequent fires are important to the regenerative cycle of the fynbos ecoregion that includes Cederberg. The scrubby vegetation is uncommonly flammable to encourage fire every few years. The Driehoek Farms property was among the acreage that got burned:
The lady in the office there told me they knew fire was inevitable and were glad to have it over with for now.
Monday morning I opted for one of the day hikes on Driehoek. The trails there are marked by simple homemade signs like this one:
Other signs along my Monday morning route promised "bushman art," which I think is what we call petroglyphs, but I didn't see any. My experience with petroglyphs in the American West is that you can be looking right at them and not realize what it is you're looking at, and it's possible that's what was happening here. I certainly spent a lot of time studying every rock face I saw that seemed a likely place for bushman art. I guess I just don't have the eye for it.
Monday afternoon I drove over a ridge to the community of Kromrivier. I hoped to explore a little, but my main objective was to patronize the only restaurant in Cederberg. I was well stocked on breakfast and lunch food, but not knowing what sort of kitchen I would have in my cabin, I didn't buy a lot of supper ingredients. The restaurant at Kromrivier was primarily a breakfast and lunch place, and closed at six o'clock, so I had an early supper there. The restaurant was part of a park management office that had some displays with interesting information about the local history, so I educated myself a little. Then I drove back to Driehoek on the network of roads that are all gravel and have some pretty bad washboards in places. I took it slow: all I needed was for the rental car company to slap me with damage charges. Most of the other vehicles I saw in Cederberg were much more off-road-worthy than the subcompact Suzuki Swift I'd been issued.
Tuesday morning I drove to a spot just outside the community of Dwarsrivier, where there's a trail into an area called "Lot's Wife/Window Rocks." Just a short distance from the parking area is Lot's wife herself. That's her on the left:
Here's a closer look:
The thing about Lot's wife that makes me go "hmm" is that The Bible doesn't mention her name (although, according to Wikipedia, she is called "Ado" or "Edith" in some Jewish traditions). She's just "Mrs. Lot," and that's all readers of The Bible need to know. Maybe I'm overthinking it, but it strikes me as a bit patriarchal, just like when I was growing up our society thought it was appropriate to address my mother as "Mrs. Elmore Holmes" even though she had a perfectly good name of her own (Sara).
Anyhoo... I continued on into the Window Rocks area, and saw all kinds of nifty formations:
My last outing was Tuesday afternoon, back on the Driehoek property. I followed a trail that took me up onto a big hill that's visible from the front porch of my cabin. It afforded me commanding views of the valley of the Driehoek River:
It's easy to see the areas that burned. The green areas are the marshes along the river that either didn't burn or greened back up quickly.
Here’s a look down at the main Driehoek farm. My little cabin is circled:
And finally, back down on the farm, here’s some of the livestock:
Wednesday I packed up and began the drive back toward Cape Town. My flight out was not until almost midnight, but I had to have the rental car back by three o'clock. The car was very dirty after a couple of days of driving those gravel roads in Cederberg, so once I was back in the city I stopped at a car wash and got it looking as spic-and-span as could be. Then I continued on to the airport, half expecting the Budget/Avis Car Rental personnel to exclaim over how nice the car looked. Instead, they found a scuff mark on the right front wheel cover. Was that my fault? Well... probably. I think I did rub against a curb or two while driving the car. I'd been very concerned about not scratching the car's paint, but the condition of the wheels hadn't even occurred to me.
I turned in the car and proceeded to the airport terminal, where, a short while later, I received a rather schoolmarmish email from a Mr. Clayton West with Budget/Avis informing me that I would indeed be assessed a damage charge for the scuffed wheel cover. "There is no indication that the damage had been there before receiving the vehicle," Mr. West wrote. "We have gone through the previous vehicle condition and vehicle history in which the damage was not noted and would not have been sent out for rent if the damage was there prior to the rental."
That last sentence makes me shake my head. Anybody who knows me well knows that the car I drive at home is a beater, and that car-vanity is completely absent from my DNA. For me, a car is a tool for getting from A to B, simple as that. I'm aware that many rental-car customers probably would make a fuss over the slightest blemish on a vehicle, but I also think that somebody who cares about stupid stuff like that should be required to spring for more of a luxury model than a Suzuki Swift.
Anyway, I had to ask Mr. West several times to tell me what the charge would be, and he finally quoted me R1210.87, which is around 75 U.S. dollars. And, you know what? Fine. Like I said, I probably did put that scuff mark on the wheel cover, and even if I wanted to fight, I doubt I'd succeed. When I got the inevitable email from Budget/Avis asking me to rate my experience, I shared the same opinions I've just written above, and informed them I would probably try a different company the next time I rent a car, and I'm just going to leave it at that.
Once I'd turned in the car, I still had some nine hours to kill before my 11:45 PM flight. So I planted myself in the airport and entertained myself the best I could. I read my book, I poked around on the Internet, and I sought out something to eat for supper (it was terrible). The Cape Town airport is not the worst airport I've ever been in, but it's far from the best.
On my trip over from the U.S. I took a direct flight from Atlanta to Cape Town, but the best I could do for the trip home was fly to Amsterdam first and then Atlanta. When my flight to Amsterdam finally took off around midnight, I tried my best to get some sleep. But I've never slept well on airplanes, and I doubt I got more than maybe four hours during this nearly 12-hour flight. It was a KLM flight, and they didn't start serving breakfast until after 9 AM (Amsterdam time), and the breakfast wasn't very good. I had time to find a decent cup of coffee in the Amsterdam airport before boarding my plane for Atlanta. On this nearly-nine-hour flight I finished my book and watched three movies. In Atlanta I cleared customs and got on one last plane for the short hop to Memphis. I arrived home having spent, all told, some 37 hours on airplanes and in airports. Whew... I must really love these trips to South Africa to put up with all that.
It's now occurring to me that this post on my canoe & kayak racing blog barely mentions paddling at all. If you've read this whole thing hoping for such content, I hope you'll accept my apology. But one reason I like paddling so much is it gives me a reason to go places and see the world. None of what I've written about in this post would have happened if not for my paddling activities.
For more information on what this blog is about, click here.
