I had started making my way out of suburbia and was almost on the highway when I realised something was missing from the passenger seat. After having made it from Cape Town to Zimbabwe and back to South Africa, surviving the Zambezi Party Express at the Vic Falls Carnival and hours in a hot car at border posts, poor Trevor almost got left behind in Johannesburg! The horror! He had come so far that there was no way I could possibly leave him behind to the fate of couriers (they would’ve stolen his shoes) so I had to turn back. Besides, I was now quite attached to my fury little travel companion. Luckily my friend’s kind landlady let me in otherwise I would’ve had to climb over walls and possibly fend off an irate guard. Before long Trevor was safely back on board and we headed out on our journey to the Northern Cape. Every morning thereafter my mother sent me an sms saying “Safe travels today WITH Trevor”….
There was a change in the smell of the air the minute we hit the N14. The happy and fresh smell of farming air. The road narrowed as if to give us a hug and before long we were winding our carefree way through green fields of mielies and carrot farms. We passed by giant irrigation systems and farmers taking pigs to market – good-looking farmers around here I might add, just in case anyone is looking for one. WE (lest I forget Trevor again) also had to take an alternate route to Ventersdorp due to a sinkhole which had me wondering about whether it was in fact a sinkhole, or perhaps a cover-up for an alien spaceship landing (the vast fields of maize make the area perfect for crop circles). But the thing I found most interesting was the amount of grain silos in the area. Nearly every town in the Western Cape has a church as its centre point, but here it seemed that churches had been replaced by silos! You could literally tell when you were approaching a town by the silos in the distance. I bet they hide aliens in there too.
The first pitstop was just outside Ventersdorp at an intriguing little place called Thirsty’s. Perched on a hill it was almost out of the movie Psycho and there was a fabulous pink vintage truck sticking out of the side. Places like that warrant exploring. There weren’t too many people inside and I was the only female in there with the mielie farmers. It was a nice place though with a smart well-stocked bar and they even had a pool table. I can imagine it’s quite the place to be on a Friday night! They serve food too, but my friend had given me a Woolies sandwich so I decided to have that rather. Conversation lacking (my Afrikaans is non-existent) I chose to sit outside with my coca-cola and take in the scenery. There behind a set of silos was a threatening dark blue sky, in the very direction Trevor and I were headed. There was no time for dawdling (or picking up farmers) as those skies can turn black within minutes and that doesn’t make for pleasant driving as I learnt in Mafikeng!
We did hit the storm and although the wipers furiously tried to beat the pouring rain off the windscreen, we could barely see a thing. I did consider pulling off and waiting it out, but the thought of a farmer smacking into the back of my nice and fairly new little Getz made me grimly carry on. Besides, it was good for my driving skills. Then suddenly it ended and we popped out onto the other side to sunny skies. Complete with sunflowers beaming at us from the side of the road! I kid you not, there were loads of them in little clusters. I have since found out that a lone sunflower is a male and if there are a few on one stalk then they’re female. Just like humans really, all the girls huddled together gossiping while a lone man tries to figure out how to approach the one he’s singled out!
We drove through countless little North West Province dorps along the way (most with silos of course), but there was one that stood out – Sannieshof. It was the brightly coloured metal sunflowers and windmills that made us stop in at Toetsie’s. I really am such a girl, things like that will grab my attention in no time. I am glad we did as it turns out that Toetsie’s has a lot to offer! It was a fascinating place – the shop was full of artworks by local artists, including paintings, cushions, metalwork and woodwork, along with the usual padstal offerings of homemade jams and cookies. There were brightly coloured paintings of chickens and villages, while cows adorned platters, windmills were stamped onto cushion covers and wire cages held pretty little metal birds and hearts. When you visit (which you must if you are in Sannieshof), take your credit card, you are going to need it! They also have a cute little coffee shop with a fireplace if you fancy a bite to eat. The menu includes tempting treats like vetkoek, jaffels, cupcakes and melktert. We left empty-handed and with empty tummies (I blame the N1 tolls), but vowed to return with a full wallet, plenty of boot space and a good appetite. What a find!
We went through Vryburg passing by more silos, cheerful sunflowers and mielies. For music we alternated between Jacaranda FM and Highveld Stereo (the CD collection was getting boring now). It was all quite blissful. Slowly the landscape started to change with green fields of mielies being replaced by yellow grasslands and the sunflowers giving way to windmills. Signs that we were definitely approaching the Northern Cape and the Kalahari…
We got lost in Kuruman trying to find Kuru-Kuru Guest House (I must learn to take directions with me and not rely on guesthouses having signs from one end of town to the other) and almost ended up back on the N14 heading towards Namibia. But eventually we made it through the gates of the guest house, just as the sun set and the stars started twinkling in the Kalahari sky.
I left Trevor to snooze on the comfy bed in our self-catering room while I joined the owners for a braai. Suzette, Rob (who’s also a Zimbabwean) and Drikus were so accommodating and amusing that I felt instantly at home. I learnt a lot about life in the town, listened to tales about spiders and heard all about the Americans who trade in their comfy suburban lives for volunteer work in the township (whilst running the risk of being captured by the “snake man” that lives down by the river!) I also attempted to plough my way through a plate of steak, chops and wors that would’ve fed five people. Go big or go home in Kuruman!
Next stop Springbok ….
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