After sleeping like logs in De Bergkant’s super comfy beds, we woke up to a fabulous breakfast of creamy yoghurt (from Gay’s award-winning dairy, down the road) and fruit, followed by poached eggs and mushrooms. Never start off an assignment day on an empty tummy, I always say.
De Bergkant’s chatty owner Charles suggested that we check out the local fig farm first, so we headed out of town on a dirt road to the farm, testing out the Clio’s ruggedness yet again.
When you’re on assignment, you can’t help going into super photographer mode: almost everything is photo-worthy. We got ridiculously excited when we spotted a large tortoise crossing the road in front of us, and stopped to take photos of it from just about every angle for about half an hour. He wasn’t amused.
We went crazy taking photos from the minute we arrived at the farm until we left – it was figgy photo heaven. We took photos of the bemused workers picking figs (it’s harvest season), photos of ladies peeling figs for drying and cutting them into flower shapes, photos of figs drying, photos of figs on the trees and photos of drying fig roll on big wooden boards. While the farm is not organic-certified, it is 100% organic and doesn’t run off electricity (they use wind and solar power and a generator if needed). We tasted dried figs straight off the drying racks and they were the best I’ve ever had – plump, juicy and flavourful.
We also checked out the accommodation on the farm – beatiful old farmhouses filled with country-chic decor. We decided we’re definitely going to spend a few days staying there when we come back to Prince Albert on holiday. There’s no electricity in the houses, so you have romantic paraffin lamps and candles, and it’s so peaceful. The houses are self-catering but Liezel, the daughter of the farm owners, is a great cook and can rustle up fabulous breakfasts and dinners, served on your veranda. Sounds like the perfect kind of country retreat to me.
On Charles’ advice, instead of returning to Prince Albert after the farm we headed to the dorpie of De Rust, which is reached by driving through Meiringspoort. While the poort is not as spectacular as Swartberg Pass, it does have some amazing scenery, and we stopped countless times to take pics. Along the way we met some friendly middle-aged bikers (our first, but not our last of the trip) on their way to a ride in Oudtshoorn all the way from Rustenburg.
Lunch at De Rust was in a very cute arty restaurant, the Village Trading Post (recognised by the giant cock outside). Unfortunately we didn’t have more time to explore the dorp. On our way back to Prince Albert we came across a curious farmstall outside Klaarstroom surrounded by life-sized dolls engaged in various activites (writing at a desk, mowing the lawn with a lawnmower, relaxing on benches). The farmstall itself was filled with all sorts of random junk.
In a busy afternoon, we whizzed around Prince Albert, ticking things off our list. We were all over the tourist office, museum, and funky art gallery before we headed to Prince Albert Country Store for some homemade organic lemonade and a lovely chat with owners William and Colleen. William was keen to show us the organic veggie garden watered with grey water but the storm that had been threatening the horizon all afternoon broke and fat drops of rain came pouring down, and we had to rush back to car with our unprotected cameras.
As the rain fell, we headed to Gay’s Dairy to try its award-winning cheeses. I’m never one to say no to a cheese tasting, especially when it’s in the name of work. I loved them all and would have bought each one to take back to Cape Town if I had a refrigerated trailer to tow behind my car.
We checked in at Dennehof, a wonderfully arty guesthouse in one of the oldest buildings in town. The owner, Ria, has turned the old farmhouse into a funky, chic place to stay. We dumped our stuff in our lovely room and had a beautifully crisp gin & tonic on the veranda watching the second storm of the day unleashing itself, and cooling everything down for a brief couple of minutes. The day’s sticky humidity had been commented on by almost everyone we met – it’s so unusual for the Karoo – and the rain was very much welcomed.
Dinner that night was at Karoo Kombuis, a homely bistro run by three friends and former air stewards – Michael, Theunis and Denise. We felt like we were eating in someone’s home, albeit someone fabulously eccentric. Karoo Kombuis is unlicensed, so we brought along a lovely red blend from Springfield that we’d bought on our way through Robertson. Christie couldn’t decide on her main, so she had a “˜trio of meat’ – lamb and mint pie, karoo lamb shank and bobotie, served with good old mash, carrots and beans, while I had a delicious spinach and feta veggie bake. We had a lovely chat to Michael when we left, about country living, the peace and quiet of the Karoo, and partying in Hillbrow.
After polishing off our bottle of wine at dinner we were in the mood for a nightcap or two before heading to bed. There are not many options for late-night drinking in Prince Albert. One of them is the bar at the Swartberg Hotel but seeing as we were the only people in it, we tried another spot – the Prickly Pear. This, according to the locals drinking in the Prickly Pear, is where locals come to drink. We chatted with Rudolph, the Austrian barman who shared all the village gossip, and met two farm boys from Prince Albert who told us that wherever they are in the world, they’re always pulled back to the Karoo dorp. It’s sort of a running theme here – everyone talks about the magical lure of the town and we were starting to understand it.
That night we experienced Karoo mozzies. As one local said to us ‘they drag you away in the night’. They certainly did.
