We
were up early again this morning ready to hit the road for a long
driving day. A customer survey had been left in the room so we took
our time to complete it recounting all the things we felt had not
been right about our stay. It’s amazing how quickly little bits and
pieces add up when something sets you off thinking about them. Our
experience of the Three Cities hotel chain wasn’t helped when we got
to reception and they tried to charge us a higher rate for the room
than the one they had quoted when we arrived. Needless to say they
are not our hotel chain of choice!
Today was a designated “bus day”, the term we now use when we
are travelling a long distance even if we don’t go by bus. Our next
planned destination is Kimberley, home of the De Beers diamond
empire but it is too far to get to in one day. Our aim was to get to
somewhere along the Drakensberg Mountain range, probably spending
one or two nights there to enjoy the views before heading on to
Kimberley. Route 2 took us down to Durban before we headed inland.
It was pretty uneventful driving although the road was busy with
people returning home after the long holiday weekend. The rain came
and went, no where near as bad as it had been last night, but still
a bit of a pain when you’re on the road.
The miles clocked away beneath us and soon boredom started to
set in. As usual we took turns driving so that the boredom didn’t
have chance to set in so far that your mind starts to wander as you
go. In Namibia one of the things that had allayed the boredom was
the hunt for petrol. We had constantly been aware of how much petrol
we had left and how far we could go on it because petrol pumps were
a little on the scarce side, particularly out of main cities. We’d
been assured that this was not a problem in South Africa but our car
has one of those petrol gauges that sits on full for ages and then
starts to move down, quickly. We took a turn off the main road to a
village that had petrol but as luck would have it the pump was
broken! So with less than a quarter of a tank to go we headed back
on to the main road, only to find a stop a few kilometres further
on. My panic that we would run out was over.
We ended up stopping for a bite of late breakfast which seemed
to be a quick process but actually took about an hour, time we
didn’t really have to spend as we still had a long way to go. As you
approach Durban from the north you can see the outer suburbs spread
out for quite some distance. In Asia cities and towns grow upwards
because there is no spare land available. Here low rise buildings
stretch far out into the surroundings valleys. One stretch we passed
was a clear indication that there is still a large divide in the
standard of living between different parts of the community. On one
side of the road was a new housing estate with smart and spacious
looking houses. Across the road were small huts made of mud and
branches with no visible signs of mains electricity or running
water. It was a poignant snapshot of the new and old South Africa.
From Durban, Route 3 took us inland again, past
Pietermaritzburg, Mooi River and Estcourt. Here there were rolling
green hills that reminded me very much of England and you can
understand why European settlers who came here liked what they saw.
The only draw back so far of driving here is the South African
drivers who are a little bit mad but not as mad as those in South
America. For most of the way the main highways consist of a single
lane in both direction but they also have a hard shoulder. People
tend to drive along the hard shoulder, especially if there is
someone behind them, rather than on the main carriageway. It makes
sense in some ways if you are trying to get past them but they just
stay on the hard shoulder all the time. When they overtake they
tailgate so close to you that a small touch on the brakes would
result in an accident. Throw into the mix the pedestrians who stroll
up and down the side of the road and walk across it, even on the
small stretches designated as motorway, and it can make for a
slightly hairy driving experience at times.
Autumn colours below the Drakensberg mountains
We turned off onto the R74 making our way down to Winterton.
Stef had checked accommodation options en route and found us a great
place to stay. Being holiday Monday most places in Winterton were
firmly shut but Simmies, a local institution, was open and although
the shelves were a bit on the empty side it came up trumps with
everything we needed for dinner tonight. Winterton itself is a very
small town with not a lot going for it from what we could see. Even
today there were people hanging around with nothing to do and a very
persistent chap outside Simmies tried to sell us hats and walking
sticks on our way in and on our way out. Stef was given his usual
title of “teacher” or “master” while I was back to being “mammie”.
The weather has been pretty grotty and cloudy all day today
and even though we know that beautiful scenery is laid out before us
in the distance we couldn’t see the peaks of the mountain range. We
could though enjoy the nearer countryside and the twinges of autumn
colour on the trees as we drove by. With a bit of time to spare
before we got to our end point for tonight we pulled in to the
Waffle Hut (on the R600), a nice place to stop with lots of
promising tasty waffles and pancakes on the menu but Stef found his
waffle and his hot chocolate disappointing while I had a great cup
of tea (ever the Brit!).
We carried on down the R600 passing loads of signs for B&Bs
and other places to stay and tempting sounding bakeries. We reached
Cedarwood and knew we were close to the Wits End Mountain Resort. On
our left was the local country hotel and golf club. Beautifully
manicured lawns were home to the fairway and it also boasted the
best selection of autumnal trees we have seen so far. The golden
yellows and rusty reds looked dull in the cloudy daylight but with
sun shining on the leaves you could imagine the warm feeling it
would create. It was simply a beautiful sight to see.
A few kilometres further down the road, just when we though
we’d taken a wrong turn somewhere, we came across Wits End. It’s a
small resort with just seven bungalows but our, which I think was
one of the smallest, could sleep six people. It had a well equipped
kitchen, a lounge with a fireplace, a dining area as well as a
braai and space outside to sit and eat. It was just superb.
Before long we were unpacked, Stef had gone to get wood and we were
sat relaxing on our settee in front of a roaring wood fire.
