Aghulas

Our reluctance to leave Stilbaai had nothing to do with our next stop but everything to do with the beauty and tranquility of our stay at Anchorage on the estuary. As we headed for Aghulas, the southernmost point of the whole of Africa we knew that Maashare, our next accommodation, had a lot to live up to.

We had a short stop on our way at a lovely little coffee shop full of a variety of friendly garden birds.The little one above, still learning to fly and unaware of Rob’s need for personal space was given short shrift when it landed on the back of his neck. Rob hurriedly brushed it away avoiding a perfect photo opportunity in his haste to be rid of the unwanted imposter.🤣

Just before we reached our destination we had another unexpected encounter with wildlife. Driving along the penultimate, residential road I saw something move to the left of my passenger wheel. I urged Rob to stop and reverse convinced, for some reason, that I’d seen a tarantula and questioning him as to whether South Africa had ‘wild’ tarantulas. I doubted myself as we neared the spot, rightfully so, my tarantula had turned into a tiny tortoise.An easy mistake to make.🤣

First impressions when we arrived at Masshare were not entirely favourable. At every place we had stayed in on our travels check in time had been 2pm. If we’d occasionally arrived a little early (you all know that’s fairly unusual) this had always been easily accommodated. As we arrived at Maashare at 1.30pm the front of the house looked disheveled and a large gentleman rushed out to our car to tell us that check in was at 3pm and we’d have to come back. In a slight reversal of roles I didn’t take this very well and Rob had to smooth over my disgruntled comments hurriedly reversing to cover my ire.

We made the best of the situation and as we drove back down to the coast I soon recovered my equanimity. The time flew as we explored the rocks, discovered the southernmost point, climbed the lighthouse and visited its museumand absorbed yet more beauty. Rob was also happy to finally stand on the top of Kilimanjaro and see the whole of Africa spread out before him.When we eventually, though a little reluctantly, returned to Maashare we were very happy to realise that you should never trust first impressions. The previously disheveled front was attractive, ordered and welcoming. Johann came out to meet us and showed us around another small but beautifully arranged apartment. The decor was perfect and just what I would have chosen for a seaside haven. Even the lack of power for two and a half hours (I don’t think I’ve mentioned this but every day throughout much of SA the power is turned off for a set time) didn’t concern us, we just had time to check WhatsApp for any urgent messages before the power and with it WiFi, disappeared.

Throughout the day, most unusually, we hadn’t eaten very much. Rob had mentioned that his tummy had been a little unsettled for a day or so and mine was definitely not quite right. In my wisdom I decided it was hunger and so after spending an hour or so settling in, sorting washing (so excited to have a washing machine #underwear crisis) for when the power returned and showering, we ventured out to eat. Johann is a coeliac and so was able to recommend an excellent restaurant 55 knots in Struissbaai set back from but still overlooking the sea. The food was delicious and despite my grumbling stomach I managed to finish nearly all of my pork belly on leek and potato mash. My contentment was short lived and even as we returned to the car the rumbling had turned to griping pain, I don’t think it was hunger!

Without including too much detail, in between three loads of washing and trying to concentrate on a great (Rob didn’t agree) Christmas movie, I spent a lot of time over or on the loo. The whole night passed in pretty much the same way and by the time morning came I felt weak and drained. I may have mentioned how Rob isn’t the most sympathetic or willing nurse. I also accept that I may not be the most tolerant or willing patient. Despite my weakness it is often easier to do things myself than ask Rob and answer a hundred questions as to how I want it done. Between us, in tense silence, we packed up (including 3 loads of wet washing – it had rained all night) and left.

The relative silence continued for much of the way as I intermittently slept and Rob drove. My glimpses of the journey were of the usual towns, townships and beautiful scenery but much of it was a blur. I was just thankful that my stomach had settled and our two toilet stops were purely for Rob’s ‘Sturla’ bladder and I had no need to leave the car.

I was so relieved to arrive in Camp’s Bay. I took little notice of our surroundings as Rob dumped all of our belongings inside the door and rushed off to collect a bike. I dazedly hung wet washing haphazardly around our apartment and balcony before falling into bed and welcome oblivion.