Memorable Moments on a Southern African Adventure

Months in advance, Ray, my other half, Roelf Jan, and I eagerly started planning our big December 1986 trip. The map of South Africa was spread out on our dining room table as routes were plotted and distances calculated. Points of interest were suggested and written down as we craned our necks to get a closer look at the finer print. The men argued good-naturedly, and banter flew. Jan and I eventually left the men to sort out the plotting while we made coffee in the kitchen.

Unexpected Encounters and Kindnesses

This was to be a holiday of a lifetime—a ten-day motorbike trip of the Garden Route down to Cape Town, then up the western side and then a right turn to Augrabies. All of this was to be done on the guy's "twin bikes."

One of the standout moments on this trip was an unexpected encounter with an ex-student in Swansea, Wales; a family friend in Westminster Abbey; and another ex-student on a remote road in the outback of Australia. Each of these meetings added a unique layer to the journey and made the trip even more memorable.

The kindness we experienced in different places was also a significant part of the journey. We got a personal tour of the chapel at the USAF Academy, received a ride in a police car in St Petersburg to post a parcel home, and engaged in meaningful conversations with language use police in the Capitol building, a guard in an old Chicago library, and passengers on AMTRAK.

Apart from these, appreciating the view in Bryce National Park and enduring the cold was another highlight. Sharing a bottle of vodka, holiday photos, and a wonderful time with Russians we met on the Trans-Siberian Railway further enriched our journey.

A Journey Through South Africa

We passed through Johannesburg, a city that sprang up during the South African gold rush in 1886 on the Witwatersrand. We followed the national highway to bypass Heidelberg, another gold mining town at the foot of the Suikerbosrand Sugarbush Ridge, and then crossed the border into the Orange Free State, passing through Bethlehem. This Bethlehem is named after the biblical one because it is a wheat-growing area. From "Beit Lechem" Hebrew for "house of bread."

The pre-dawn chill cooled the air, and we were glad of our leather jackets for protection. Ray had just installed a two-way radio device in our helmets which plugged in with small jack-plugs so we could chat all the way without having to scream over the wind. As the sky changed from star-studded indigo to lilac, then to peach and brilliant orange, we traveled towards the magnificent sandstone mountains which gleamed golden in the early dawn light. The road led toward the Imperani Mountain and food. By this time, our tummies were starting to rumble, and visions of sizzling sausages danced through our heads.

Ficksburg, the home of the yearly Cherry Festivals since 1968, was our first stop. The largest cherry farms in Africa are situated at the foot of the Imperani. We reached this Free State town in time to see the Wimpy open and were the first customers inside. We all ordered bacon and eggs with all the trimmings plus coffee—we needed to keep our strength up for the long ride ahead. After freshening up in the restroom and paying the bill, we prepared to leave. Outside, a small group of teenage boys was admiring the identical bikes. They were eager to chat, but we were even more eager to be on our way. Leaving the crestfallen youngsters gawking on the pavement, we sped on our way.

Soon, the picturesque sandstone architecture of Ficksburg was left behind. We occasionally passed little groups of Basotho men mounted on their small, sturdy ponies. They wore their traditional colored blankets and conical woven hats as they moved along the side of the road at a fast trot. They raised their hands in friendly salutation as we rode by. We were skirting their mountain kingdom of Lesotho where, until comparatively recently, the stalwart Basotho pony was the only means of transport.

We bypassed Clocolan, a mispronunciation of the Basotho name Hlohlolwane meaning "get up and fight," on our way to Ladybrand, named for the mother of a Cape Province dignitary. Next came Wepener, where we stopped for cool drinks for humans and "iron ponies" alike. Many historic battles were fought here, and many unmarked graves are to be found of both British and Boer. Wepener was founded at the foot of the Jammersberg Mountain of Sorrow on a small river, a tributary of the Caledon River, a beautiful and tranquil little town.

Indeed, this was a holiday of a lifetime, filled with unforgettable moments and indelible memories. Each step of the journey showcased the rich tapestry of South African culture and landscapes, making the trip a truly memorable adventure.