The sound of the ocean wakes me at first light. I have a desire to not be the last person ready to leave this morning so I begin packing my things in parallel with coffee and oats preparation. All of this gets derailed when I hear nature calling my name and find the perfect place for an aqua dump.
The feet are walking again with ease. Pain no longer holds the same meaning and fades away from the front of mind all-together. I ask the others to imagine sports that could be invented if humans lived in space. We then come up with Space Curling:
A human is placed into a spaceship with very minimal boosters and rocket fuel. A star is chosen at random an incredibly far distance away as the target. The aim is to get the spaceship into orbit around that star after shooting it off from a central starting point. You use the gravitational fields of stars and planets along the way to alter the trajectory. Each team has a massive space broom that is able to clear the way occasionally.
This then devolves into a Rick and Morty episode plot that we create whereby Morty wants to get into some of the extraterrestrial games out in the universe. Space Curling is a rather gruesome sport where many of the drivers get sucked into stars and black holes. He falls in love with another driver who he has to save from an altercation with some space pirates. Rick invents a revolutionary space broom that he can either use to clean up the galaxy or save Morty and his new lover. The rest of the story basically tells itself.
We get quite involved with skimming stones in the sea after finding some perfect rocks along the beach. I’ve been observing the larger views for the majority of the trip up until now and decide to look for the small things. Shells litter the beach and I begin collecting. A game organically appears to me call “two shells”. The rules are simple: you may carry only two shells at a time, if you find a nice shell you can replace one of the two shells that you’re carrying. Hours pass and I’m left with two beautiful crab homes at the end of it.
The beaches turn to grassy hills again. After almost two days of endless flat beaches we’re incredibly excited to see the land rising up above us. I find a good walking stick that helps ease the weight on the leg and I cruise up the hills ease.
It’s quite surprising to see how the landscape seems to revert back so quickly to the grassy hills and cliffs falling into the sea again. It reminds us of the landscape that we left in Port St Johns.
Then suddenly the hills are gone and the beach returns. Stones litter the beach - some very skim-able ones too. We find a shipwreck on the beach and investigate its rusted skeleton.
Another river dawns on us and we think that we have another swim on our hands. As luck would have it we see someone on the far bank running down to a canoe. Another river another lovely conversation with the boat rower.
We have a coffee break at a small cluster of fishing huts that are all empty except one. We fill our water and take a well needed break. The uneven beach it challenging and I enjoy the break. We hit the road shortly after that, needing to get to Tribal Retreat that marks the end of this adventure.
Back on the beach and I’m hurting, it’s manageable though and we forge onwards. There is only about an hour or so left of walking and there is some time to reflect on the magical past few days. A river appears and we’re ready, we drop kit and swim across with ease.
We all make peace that everything has come to an end. We reflect fondly on everything and laugh about some of the absurd people and situations. Then suddenly there is a massive river ahead of us. Deep and wide that doesn’t really lend itself to a swim. We can see the houses that mark our destination just over the river and it’s proximity makes the whole situation a little more frustrating.
We’re torn on the best choice here. Fred has come into a his own and now is a river swimming master. There seems to be a river crossing a few kilometers inland and we ponder the options. We are tired and ready to relax and the solution to this river isn’t obvious. We opt to try and go inland.
After climbing an enormous hill we can’t really see the path ahead of us. We doubt our choice and I think that we’re all a bit hungry. We carry on trekking up towards the river crossing and meet Howard who is heading the same way as us with a fishing rod. He encourages us to accompany him, the sun setting behind us.
After about an hour we cross the river and say farewell to Howard. Howard was one of the most gentle and interesting people that we’ve met; having worked in the mines in Gauteng and the Navy in Simon’s Town he’s got a few stories up his sleeve. He asks questions and is genuinely interested with our answers.
We say farewell and begin walking back towards the coast. The frustration of this two hour detour fades away and the golden light brings back the nostalgia from earlier. We’re a few hundred meters from our destination yet blocked by a dense forrest in a valley. Once again we’re forced to meander our way around it until finally we are on the home stretch.
There is a rather anticlimactic ending to the adventure. I pull in slightly after the other two and then we’re immediately immersed in a whole different scene: Margo, the owner of Tribal Retreat greets us with chaotic excitement and her partner Louis booms wisdom in a deep voice. I’m surprised to find Ian and Leanne (from Africanna) sitting with them and suddenly we’re engrosed in a conversation. I guess the trip isn’t over yet.
We are walk-ins and Margo is a bit flustered. She says that she can rustle something up for dinner and comes back with a truly incredible deep fried cauliflower and aubergine dish with a side salad to die for. We eat until we cannot anymore.
Louis spins some incredible tales and hold the space with his convincing deep voice. The conversation dips into conspiracies and Margo does a fantastic job of squashing the vaccine debate before it flares up - Ian’s eyes aglow with passion.
Ian and Leanne ask about Damien who I had bumped into at Coffee Bay. Their ways had parted and I get the full tale as to what had happened. Two dogs had followed them for a few days and just after Coffee Bay the dogs had chased two sheep off the edge of a cliff. The owner of the sheep found out and tracked them down, demanding R4000 in payment for his sheep.
There was a point of contention in the group, with Damien wanting to go back to Coffee Bay to sort out the payment for the sheep and Ian firmly disagreeing that they should pay. The group parts was with Damien paying for the sheep and then deciding to stay in Coffee Bay and help rebuild the dilapidated backpackers next to Coffee Shack.
I ask what the dogs look like and Ian and Leanne describe Paul and Jeanine in immaculate detail. I hold in laughter but manage to sneak Damo a glance out the corner of my eye; his eye twinkling with surprise.
We have a few more beers and the conversation gets weird, but enjoyable. I am feeling absolutely finished after the long day and I ask for a cigarette from Margo, to which she responds with absolute joy - stating that if we have run all the way from Port St John while smoking that absolves her from all her cigarette guilt. She lights up two.
Ian gets talking about his life back home and shows us a picture of his cat smoking a joint. We decide that this is probably as weird as it is going to get tonight and excuse ourselves and go to our room, all feeling rather bewildered by the crazy night and ending to this adventure. We have our moment rejoicing and congratulating one another on completing what is set to be a monumental mission through the Transkei.
