After we crossed through Qacha’s Nek border post entering South Africa once more. We cut back towards the coast heading South East and spent the night close to Kokstad.
Keen to save money on accommodation and to camp out under the stars some more, we decided we would try our luck with the locals. Trent asked the owners of a nice farm we spied, if we could park our dirty and gritty selves there for the night (we’re not quite nitty yet!). They were very accommodating and we spent the night camped in the front yard.
Come the sunrise I couldn’t help but go for a run up the mountain behind where we stayed. It was a steep climb, up a grassy slope. Scrambling up the last bit on all fours.
Aware that the others would want to get going I started back, slidding down on my behind and in the process losing my Leatherman. Realising this only once reaching the bottom. So I turned around and ran right back up, unfortunately I was unable find it. Swearing from the mountain side and combing the ground of where I had been. Not a happy camper you can imagine.
Continuing onwards to Coffee Bay on the Wild Coast in the Transkei, we zoomed across the winding roads, and green rolling hills. Dodging cows, pigs, dogs, goats and children screaming for sweeties.
We stayed at ‘Friends Backpackers’ right by the beach, for only 50 rand per person to camp. Good vibes, friendly staff, decent facilities, sweet firepit and a good place to have a shower! (It had been a while!)
That night we fire twirled on the beach, Mike and I having a fire fight with poi and staff. We were getting carried away, having fun and dancing to the rhythmic drumming coming from Friends.
When we decided to run back and fire twirl right by the drums.I left my bag on the beach. It was a stupid mistake that I realised within moments of the fires extinguishing.
I ran back. Gone.
Goodbye my journal and artbook, my little tripod and our salad mix, my toothbrush and toothpaste.
Not a good day.I should of been more conscience and aware. Should of, could of but did not. It’s a learning curve and a lesson. This is not the only time in our travels people will try and steal our things. This is Africa.
The next day determined not to be to down and to enjoy myself. Mike and I stripped the weight from our bikes and after a delicious breakfast of egg, onion, mushroom, tomato and chorizo on toast, that Masterchef Istene whipped up, we went for a ride.
Taking whichever dirt roads we fancied and hugging the Wild Coast’s coast we had an epic exploratory ride over grassy hills and past yet more goats and their herders. Can’t forget the barking dogs. One of which I had to kick at, to avoid it diving under the bike and attacking me as I took a corner. Returning to Friends, the two of us went to the beach. And there we split as I climbed around the headland. A hectic climb with a knee trembling moment. 15 or so meters above the sea crashing into the rocks below, the rock crumbled beneath my right foot and I clung to the cliff-face with fingers and toes. Kissing the cliff for goodluck I continued on. Adrenaline coursing through me, I made it. You never feel more alive then when you nearly die.
We found the others at the beach in a cave and reunited the four of us enjoyed the afternoon together. Walking along the beach and going for a swim.
In the morning we woke up early and watched the sunrise over the Indian Ocean. Then we visited Hole in the Wall, on the way to which Istene ran out of petrol. (Always remember to turn the fuel nozzle off reserve to On!) Little bit of syphoning and we were moving once more.
It was a great way to end what was both a good and bad section of our journey. Coffee Bay was many things but it was time we moved on. Onwards to Kenton-on-Sea and Cape Saint Francis! Check out the next leg of our Motoquest through Africa shortly!
All the best from myself Tom Dirty Silva and the rest of The Nitty Gritty Nomads!