Well, the long trip from Cairns to Brisbane is just around the corner and BK can’t wait. It promises to be both a memorable and enjoyable trip – that is if the weather plays along, if you know what I mean.
It’s longer than the trip my Dad used to take us on every December holiday (but not by too much) – from Groot Marico where we all piled into the kombi right down to Mossel Bay. We had a mattress on top of the luggage and heaps of games to keep us busy while he drove non-stop, first to Kimberley, then the next day to the sea. But of course the games are all played out within the first few hours and then the boredom sets in. and you know what happens when you have four bored kids in a confined space…
But BK also remembers the trip fondly now as a memory of South Africa and the landscapes we drove through – from the dry desert between Zeerust and Vryburg, to the neverending rows and rows of mielies other side of Hartswater and the irrigation ditches around Warrenton. Then the looong “vlakte” this side of Kimberley, where you can see the city for miles but you know it will be a while before you’re there. A short visit with the family and making final arrangements to meet them on holiday (remember, this is the pre-cell phone days – we didn’t even have electricity and a phone at the beach house!). Then early-early the next morning, long before the sun is up, we hit the road – sleeping till the sun comes through the windows. Hoping that when we wake up we’d almost be there, but then seeing the sign that says “Welcome to Hopetown” and knowing it’s going to be a long, hot day in the car (no aircon in an old kombi!).
Strydenburg, Britstown, Victoria-West – the landscape never changes and we find a cement picnic table next to the road under the “bloekombome” to eat sandwiches and boiled eggs, and drink the “aanmmaakkoeldrank” which always seemed to be orange flavour. Watching the big black ants fight for the crumbs and then it’s off again – Beaufort-West and then the longest piece of straight road you can find in Springbokland. Finally into Meiringspoort – into the shade of the high cliffs and counting how many times we cross the river (seventeen, right?).
Past Oudtshoorn with the curious ostriches next to the fence and over the Outeniqua pass, which now only reminds me of our erstwhile ill-fated cricket captain, and you can almost smell the sea! The air is cooler and the sun is starting to hide behind the mountain. Now the eyes are peeled, because the competition is on – who can see the sea first. Through Blanco, which BK always thought a funny name for a coloured township, but it is only when we get on the road (before the freeway was built) to Glentana that the sea makes it’s presence know between the hills.
Ja, what good memories – let’s hope the trip from Cairns to Brisbane is as good!
Bosveldgroete!
