Now you might be wondering why I haven't written any new information about my travels. The answer is quite simple; exciting fun! The past days in Jeffreys Bay have turned from one night to two, and in the end, to five nights. No doubt due to the convincing of Emma at reception.
Each day, more and more interesting people would pass through. People travelling from Norway, Egypt, Mauritius, Sweden, Holland, France, UK, Brazil, Canada and the US. And the staff (like the bar staff, Ronel, Werner, Kim, and Fabian) compliment the vibe and everything about the place; hence the name Island Vibe I guess.
After spending at least two hours surfing everyday, sometimes four, we would head in for lunch and then for a relaxing nap. Love the napping. And then after the napping some more surfing and lounging around. This place is amazing. Then as the sun went down the bar turned into a party. It felt like being in someone's house or being at home with friends, a lot of friends.
Every day came the thought of leaving, but there was no reason to. The only way I was going to leave was if I booked a flight out to Tanzania. So I did. And I booked it all the way back to Namibia.
J-Bay, or at least Island Vibe, is one of the greatest places to relax and meet friends.
I met Adam from Egypt and Alex from Mauritius who were heading up to Port Elizabeth and was able to catch a lift with them. Great guys.
From PE I flew to Johannesburg to meet up with Shannon who I met in Swakopmund. She picked me up from the airport and it took us four hours on a normal 45 minute route. Imagine the hectic traffic during the 2010 Worldcup. I will crash here for two night before flying to Dar Es Salaam and head back to Morogoro to pick up my things. Nothing exciting in Jo'burg.
Showing posts with label South Africa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label South Africa. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Supertubes
With only four backpackers staying at Storms River the night quickly turned into a competition of quarters with the bartender. We made sure he left coming back the next morning with a headache.
The worlds highest commercial bungy is at the Bloukrans Bridge between the Eastern and Western Cape. 216 metres. Unfortunately, not one of the three other backpackers wanted in and I was left without a shuttle to get to the bridge.
From Storms River I headed east to surfing mecca Jeffreys Bay where all the pros come out to ride the tubes and compete for price money. I tried my hand at a few tiny waves and managed to ride a few of them in standing up. But the hits I took were hard. The water is very shallow and any fall puts your body in contact with the sandy bottom.
The backpackers I am staying at is right on the beach and the bar is always busy. My head still hurts and now I feel sorry for that bartender.
The worlds highest commercial bungy is at the Bloukrans Bridge between the Eastern and Western Cape. 216 metres. Unfortunately, not one of the three other backpackers wanted in and I was left without a shuttle to get to the bridge.
From Storms River I headed east to surfing mecca Jeffreys Bay where all the pros come out to ride the tubes and compete for price money. I tried my hand at a few tiny waves and managed to ride a few of them in standing up. But the hits I took were hard. The water is very shallow and any fall puts your body in contact with the sandy bottom.
The backpackers I am staying at is right on the beach and the bar is always busy. My head still hurts and now I feel sorry for that bartender.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Into the Wilderness
I arrived in Wilderness yesterday taking the Bazbus from Cape Town.
The quite little town is nestled between rolling hills and the rolling waves of the ocean. The backpackers is relaxing and inviting. We enjoyed a guitar session around a bonfire last night.
Time to enjoy the sand, sun and maybe check out some surfing and bungee jumping tomorrow.
The quite little town is nestled between rolling hills and the rolling waves of the ocean. The backpackers is relaxing and inviting. We enjoyed a guitar session around a bonfire last night.
Time to enjoy the sand, sun and maybe check out some surfing and bungee jumping tomorrow.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Shark Bait
Cape Town is wonderful. The waterfront is built up and new looking with a vast selection of restaurants and bars. Easy to spend money. Trapped again.
Most visitors to Cape Town will notice the shanty townships that line the highway into the city. Nothing nice to look at or even debate with the locals. Simple houses, actually shacks with tin roofs and a single power line to a central transformer in the middle. Looks like the skeleton of a circus big top.
Our dorm at The Backpack has eight beds, one of which hosts a new friend from the UK. Michael is from England and just finished his travels in Australia and will leave on an overlander tour up to Kenya. With the city leaving our pockets feeling lighter than when we first arrived we decided to head out on the open ocean for some diving with the infamous White Shark. You can add "Great" to the title for glitz and glamour.
The day started at 0530 with a pickup and then a 2 hour drive to Gansbaai. Michael had wanted to pick up some motion sickness tablets and gladly took an offer from another diver when she offered a tablet.
At Gansbaai we met the rest of the crazies who paid money to swim with these fish. A short drive from Gansbaai to the harbour we boarded the vessel, packed with 20 people, and set out over the choppy seas. Choppy seas...Oh boy, my night before with the Norwegians wasn't too bright.
Near the infamous Shark Alley and seal colony we set anchor. Up and down. The crew began chumming and luring in the sharks. No guarantee of seeing anything as it was low in the season. With a slick of fish oil trailing the boat and fish heads tied to a buoy how could a shark resist?
Within about 30 minutes we caught a glimpse of the first White Shark. Seconds later the cage was in the water, wet suits were stretched over stomachs and we were in the cage. With 5 at a time in the cage, the crew would lure the shark with the fish heads towards the cage and just as it approached you would take a breath and go under into the 13C water. Up and down. The sharks would swim past the cage and sometimes going for a bite at the bait. I had a great view, face to face, or more like face to jaws, teeth, death of one shark. Adrenaline and excitement left me bewildered. Was it real?
We would trade places in the cage. Up and down. Taking a break from the cold water and battering waves. We saw three sharks that day with the largest measuring 2.5 metres.
After 3 hours at sea with everyone thrilled at their experience, we raised anchor, the boat went down and my lunch came up.
Most visitors to Cape Town will notice the shanty townships that line the highway into the city. Nothing nice to look at or even debate with the locals. Simple houses, actually shacks with tin roofs and a single power line to a central transformer in the middle. Looks like the skeleton of a circus big top.
Our dorm at The Backpack has eight beds, one of which hosts a new friend from the UK. Michael is from England and just finished his travels in Australia and will leave on an overlander tour up to Kenya. With the city leaving our pockets feeling lighter than when we first arrived we decided to head out on the open ocean for some diving with the infamous White Shark. You can add "Great" to the title for glitz and glamour.
The day started at 0530 with a pickup and then a 2 hour drive to Gansbaai. Michael had wanted to pick up some motion sickness tablets and gladly took an offer from another diver when she offered a tablet.
At Gansbaai we met the rest of the crazies who paid money to swim with these fish. A short drive from Gansbaai to the harbour we boarded the vessel, packed with 20 people, and set out over the choppy seas. Choppy seas...Oh boy, my night before with the Norwegians wasn't too bright.
Near the infamous Shark Alley and seal colony we set anchor. Up and down. The crew began chumming and luring in the sharks. No guarantee of seeing anything as it was low in the season. With a slick of fish oil trailing the boat and fish heads tied to a buoy how could a shark resist?
Within about 30 minutes we caught a glimpse of the first White Shark. Seconds later the cage was in the water, wet suits were stretched over stomachs and we were in the cage. With 5 at a time in the cage, the crew would lure the shark with the fish heads towards the cage and just as it approached you would take a breath and go under into the 13C water. Up and down. The sharks would swim past the cage and sometimes going for a bite at the bait. I had a great view, face to face, or more like face to jaws, teeth, death of one shark. Adrenaline and excitement left me bewildered. Was it real?
We would trade places in the cage. Up and down. Taking a break from the cold water and battering waves. We saw three sharks that day with the largest measuring 2.5 metres.
After 3 hours at sea with everyone thrilled at their experience, we raised anchor, the boat went down and my lunch came up.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Out of Namibia
Finally out of Namibia. Daniel and I planned to head down to Cape Town, South Africa early in the week by bus. At the hostel we met Carly, a Canadian from Vancouver, who was driving down to Cape town as well and offered us a ride. Or at least we suggested the idea of having us for company in her car.
We left on Friday morning making it through more desert with dry and long straight roads. It took us almost 8 hours to reach the border into South Africa.
At the border we stopped to go through customs. We parked our car and then proceeded to the numbered doors. Behind door number one was immigration. Door number two, customs. And finally, door number three, police. Behind the third door, numbered with a big red number 3, the police asked us who the driver was. Unsure if it was a serious question we hesitated as both Daniel and Carly were drivers. I had the luck of leaving my driver's license in Tanzania giving me the privilege of sleeping in the backseat. The police told us that whoever was driving should check the note on the driver side door. What did they leave for us? I tried making a joke out of it by asking if our car was too dirty to cross the border. Carly has a black car and after eight hours it had turned a brownish tan.
We walked back to the car and looked for the note left for us. No piece of paper, but on the hood of the car in big finger cursive the words, "Please wash me!" were traced into the dirt. Through the window of the police station I could see the officers laughing and we laughed back. Imagine crossing into the U.S.A. with a good laugh!
That evening we were told to visit Fiddler's Creek just into South Africa. A tour guide from Windhoek had suggested it to us. Twenty minutes down a dirt road and through farmer's field we found the campsite and Orange River, one of the longest in Africa. These are the kinds of places you wouldn't find unless someone pointed you in the right direction.
Fiddler's Creek is mainly an overlander campsite, but the season is slow now and there were only two trucks there. Daniel even bumped into a tour guide he met in Swaziland.
We arrived just before sunset without food or a tent. We asked for any leftover dinner, which they generously offered us. Before dinner we went for a quick dip in the river. Nice and warm.
Without a tent we grabbed our sleeping bags, found a lush soft spot of grass and camped out under the stars. The resident dog curled up next to Daniel.
The next morning we headed down to Cape Town. The landscape changes from dry land to mountainous rock spotted with wineries and citrus trees thanks to the river flowing through the valley.
After 6 speedy hours we made it to Cape Town with Table Mountain setting an impressive background.
With penguins, mountains and great white sharks....when will I leave?
We left on Friday morning making it through more desert with dry and long straight roads. It took us almost 8 hours to reach the border into South Africa.
At the border we stopped to go through customs. We parked our car and then proceeded to the numbered doors. Behind door number one was immigration. Door number two, customs. And finally, door number three, police. Behind the third door, numbered with a big red number 3, the police asked us who the driver was. Unsure if it was a serious question we hesitated as both Daniel and Carly were drivers. I had the luck of leaving my driver's license in Tanzania giving me the privilege of sleeping in the backseat. The police told us that whoever was driving should check the note on the driver side door. What did they leave for us? I tried making a joke out of it by asking if our car was too dirty to cross the border. Carly has a black car and after eight hours it had turned a brownish tan.
We walked back to the car and looked for the note left for us. No piece of paper, but on the hood of the car in big finger cursive the words, "Please wash me!" were traced into the dirt. Through the window of the police station I could see the officers laughing and we laughed back. Imagine crossing into the U.S.A. with a good laugh!
That evening we were told to visit Fiddler's Creek just into South Africa. A tour guide from Windhoek had suggested it to us. Twenty minutes down a dirt road and through farmer's field we found the campsite and Orange River, one of the longest in Africa. These are the kinds of places you wouldn't find unless someone pointed you in the right direction.
Fiddler's Creek is mainly an overlander campsite, but the season is slow now and there were only two trucks there. Daniel even bumped into a tour guide he met in Swaziland.
We arrived just before sunset without food or a tent. We asked for any leftover dinner, which they generously offered us. Before dinner we went for a quick dip in the river. Nice and warm.Without a tent we grabbed our sleeping bags, found a lush soft spot of grass and camped out under the stars. The resident dog curled up next to Daniel.
The next morning we headed down to Cape Town. The landscape changes from dry land to mountainous rock spotted with wineries and citrus trees thanks to the river flowing through the valley.
After 6 speedy hours we made it to Cape Town with Table Mountain setting an impressive background.
With penguins, mountains and great white sharks....when will I leave?
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