We rise in the early morning. Today will be the hottest day of the adventure and we are hoping to have a sleep over lunch. None of us have slept well and are eager to get going. We pack quickly and get ready to go. Jeanine sleeps outside the front door and we’re faced with a dilemma: do we wake her and bring her with or sneak out the back door.
We force ourselves not to look back as we leave out the back. Our hearts heavy leaving Jeanine but somehow this feels like the right thing to do. We are sure that she would follow us all the way to the end of our run - but then what?
A purple smudge appears on the horizon over the ocean then goes pink. Endless beach extends out before us and we march into the waking morning.
It’s just past 6am when we reach the river at the far end of the beach. The river is deep and flowing quickly. No boats are in sight and we potter back and forth trying to come up with a better solution until we realise that the swim is inevitable.
There are houses on the opposite bank but nobody is awake. We strip down and pack our things into black plastic bags. It’s only a 15m swim yet the current pulls us quickly out towards the sea. We all make it across with relative ease.
I’m getting hungry - an overdue breakfast is on the cards. My slightly delirious brain commands my body to look Fred right in the eye and ask “Would you like some breakfast Philip?”. With general confusion and humour we decide to stop for a bite to eat.
I’ve brought Wizza flying disk all this way without yet busting it out. Today is the day. The long beach sections prove the perfect playing ground for testing it out and everyone soon gets the hang of it.
The scenery has changed once again. Now the coastline more closely resembles that of the sunshine coast; old riverbeds dictate the coast and coastal dunes fade the beach into vegetation.
The sun is warming the land. The thick heat prevents sweat from evaporating and we pick up the pace to try and reach the Haven for a rest. The houses in the distance begin to draw near and suddenly we’re walking through a dense coastal forrest that is so far removed from what we’ve been encountering over the last few days.
There are some houses along the beachfront. We poke our heads over a wall and a beautiful garden opens up, manicured but using the local flora. There is an older woman busy in one of the beds and she comes to greet us. Her and her husband have lived here for many years and she tells us that she knows that she lives in paradise.
We continue down the road to the Haven hotel. At the gates my heart skips a beat when I think that I see Jeanine there - waiting for us. It turns out to be a doppelgänger. I wonder inside to find the other two.
It’s a big beautiful series of buildings in a colonial style. There is nobody but a few staff to be seen and we make ourselves comfortable in the lounge and bar area. Damo heads off for a sleep while Fred and I have a game of darts accompanied by a cold beer. We do our best to make a dent in the small stock of chocolates and food that they are selling.
Suddenly I’m exhausted. Fred has commanding lead on the game and finishes me off cleanly. I lie down on the bed - there are two hours to kill before lunch will be ready and before I know it I hear the call for us to come to the dining room. The sleep was potentially the best idea that I’ve had today and head off to eat with vigour.
The staff did not have a lunch planned for today but the chef said that she would whip something together for us. We are greeted by an enormous array of fried fish, chips and salad with chocolate moose for dessert. It’s everything that we could have asked for and more.
The manager of the hotel is a slender woman who smokes a lot. She calls us to say that she’s organised a canoe across the river for us at 2pm. The time has come and we pile into a beat up old double cab bakkie, the boat in the back. She brings an ancient dog that sits on Damo’s lap. It’s deaf and blind yet manages to stay on it’s feet throughout the drive.
A dog staying on it’s feet during this drive is a sheer miracle as the manager proceeds to absolutely floor it and careen down a small jeep track through a dense forrest. Our heads hit the roof occasionally due to her strategy of speeding up when the roads get worse.
We’re there in literally ten minutes. The wind is howling and she opts to stay in the car. We are ferried across the mighty Mbashe river by a lovely man called Chris who has arms of steel. Endless beaches stretch out ahead of us once again as we enter the Dwesa nature reserve.
As the day begins to draw to a close we start looking for a spot to camp. We have been waiting for another opportunity to wild camp and the warmth of today bodes well for a peaceful sleep. There is not a sole in sight and we have our pick of many possible campsites.
Walking on the soft sand has been taxing. We’re at a point of contention whether to push onto the next bay or find a spot where we are. There are a few modern day middens along the coast with fire pits made by fishermen. It somehow doesn’t feel right to sleep in one of those without knowing the full story.
We walk past a nice place that looks level and sheltered and then retrace our steps after not finding anything better. We embark on collecting some drift wood for a fire. Mama alles is once again on the menu - Central African Stew. We start up a game of backgammon, with the fire crackling away and watch the sun set.
Our circadian rhythms have all begun to aline with the sun and it’s time for bed. My body is asleep within moments and the expanse of stars overhead help my mind reach the same place.
