the rest of the story

When I last left you, we were getting the hell out of Durban. Since we didn’t have a good map, we rolled down the window and asked a man how to get to the N2, the road Deano (the Avis manager) has told us to take all the way back to Cape Town. This man told us to follow him to the N2, and upon arrival at the tolls he told us to take this all the way to Cape Town….the entire way on this road. Since it is the largest road/highway in South Africa, I assumed it would be well paved the entire way. Boy, was I wrong.

Our hopes for the first night were to end up at Coffee Bay, a location that everyone says is the most magical place in South Africa. Seven hours later, Coffee Bay (a destination that we were told was five hours from Durban) was nowhere in sight. It was dark and the N2 highway had morphed into the N2 road with lots of potholes and occasional stretches of dirt road. I was still driving the car and was getting sort of nervous since it was past midnight and we were lost in Africa. The only directions we had were via email from my sister who had sent me Google-map directions to my Blackberry. As the battery in my blackberry depleted, so too did the visibility on the road. From about 12 a.m. to 1:30 a.m., we were driving through heavy, heavy fog. Liz described it perfectly as “marshmallow-fluff-thick,” and I wasn’t able to see more than four feet in front of the car. Only in the morning did we realize we weren’t driving through fog, rather we were driving through clouds. I tried to keep my cool, but on the inside my anxiety regarding my life (as well as my three passengers’) was mounting. As usual, I could hear my dad screaming in my ear…huffing and puffing that I was an idiot to get myself into such a situation. Then faux mom on my other shoulder was telling me to calm down, that it was an adventure…what’s the worst that could happen???

Well the worst appeared right before me when we were on a road off the N2 attempting to find Coffee Bay at 2 a.m…The road before us was blocked off and there were three African men lying down around a fire. As I saw my life flash before my eyes, my cat-like reflexes went into high gear and I turned the car around. While doing this, a man ran up to the car and told us that we were going to need to wait a few minutes as they were doing roadwork on one side of the road so cars could only flow in one direction at a time. My heart beat finally slowed down, but at this point I knew it was time to find someplace to stay for the night.

Dispatch lyrics stuck in my head
throughout the trip (Elias)

We kept driving down this road and finally happened upon a town called Port St. Johns. There were “resorts” all over the side of the road, but my passengers insisted we keep driving. A few minutes later, we happened upon a town I can only describe as looking like it had been bombed. There were men sleeping on both sides of the road, countless stray dogs, fires, and trash strewn all about. Liz suggested we keep driving, Arianna was sure we would find Coffee Bay, and I insisted we find somewhere to spend the night. We went back to the stretch of road with all the resorts, and luckily found The Spotted Grunter Resort, which opened its gate for us. When we entered the property, the security guard was holding a huge gun, which we only later found out was a paint ball gun. Finally, one of the women in charge of the lodge came out and gave us a room. It was now around 3 a.m., and we finally retired to our room.

Port St. John 

In the morning when we woke up, we realized that Port St. John was beautiful. The property and water on which is sat looked somewhat like Costa Rica. The woman at the desk asked us about our journey and explained where we were. They couldn’t believe it took us nine hours to get there from Durban, and explained to us that Coffee Bay was still four hours away. Even though it wouldn’t make sense to spend the next night there, we were determined to find it and check it out.

As Liz explained in her blog, “The Wild Coast is a chunk of South African coastline that you can trace, sort of, by car by driving along the "N2." However, the N2, in the Wild Coast region, is not actually that near to the shoreline. So, to find the remote coastal towns referenced in travel guides, one must venture off the N2 on long, winding, pot-holed roads. On Wednesday night, we had chosen the wrong long, winding, pot-holed road, and so we were over 2 hours away from the N2... and even farther removed from where we wanted to be.”

Arianna and I at Coffee Bay

We got back on the N2 and headed towards Coffee Bay. Five hours later we found it. There were no gas stations or civilization besides the turquoise huts that were scattered all along the side of the road. We finally got to Coffee Bay, which I can only describe as a hippie town randomly situated on a beautiful bay. Coffee Bay, to me, was not all it was cracked up to be, but I was glad we made it there. Some interesting anecdotes from Coffee Bay include being offered hashish from a random man who sits along the bay. I also ended up buying 200 rand worth of beads from these cute women who sit in the same spot and sell necklaces and bracelets off of trees.

me with hippie fence in Coffee Bay

We left Coffee Bay around 3:30 p.m. and began the trek to Chintsa. Our only stop on the way was at a gas station. I was pretty sure that in using the toilet there I contracted a lot of diseases, and I was happy to get out of the convenience store with all of my belongings. In our many stops at gas stations along the Wild Coast, we saw no other white people. It is strange being the minority and standing out, a situation that is so different from home.

After trekking down a long dirt road to get to the Buccaneers Backpacker Village in Chintsa, it became clear that the VW Polo was not suitable for off-roading. We checked in, went to the bar for some drinks, and spend the night in a two-bedroom bungalow adorned with drapes picturing Nelson Mandela. It was this night that I began to question my ability to sleep in moldy backpacker lodges, mainly because my allergies were getting increasingly more angry at me. Yet, when we woke up in the morning the night of sneezing and sniffling was worth it as Chintsa was the most beautiful place I had ever been.

me and one of the
Coffee Bay bead ladies

the lagoon in Chintsa

me on the beach in Chintsa

Liz and Arianna decided to kayak across the lagoon, and it was shallow enough for me to walk across. We got to the ocean and right behind us was an African drum circle. As I sat on the beach, taking in my surroundings and dipping my toes in the Indian Ocean for the first time, I realized that this was why I decided to come to South Africa in the first place: adventure. The sun beat on my face and Arianna and I danced to the drums while Liz went back to fetch Annie. I will never forget this morning in Chintsa, as it was probably one of the most pure, blissful moments of my life and I was lucky to share it with such a great friend.

on the porch of the bungalow

We left Chintsa that afternoon and arrived in Plettenburg, a seven hour drive away. When we got out of the car I was sore and ready to be done driving. Plettenburg is along the Garden Route, not the Wild Coast, and is the drive most people do from Cape Town. While it is no doubt beautiful, it was not comparable to the inexplicable beauty and calm that was the Wild Coast – all the roads were paved and there were gas stations, grocery stores, and shops everywhere. We had dinner at a nice restaurant, and I turned in super early that night.

arrived alive in Cape Town!

We woke up the next day, I did some serious damage at a jewelry store, and then got back in the car to make the final leg of the journey back to Cape Town. Annie drove, getting us back in five hours (it should have taken seven), and when we arrived at Avis, they couldn’t believe we had just made it back from Durban. In 70 hours, we spent 30 and a half driving. We ate our weight in Cadbury chocolate, apples, potato chips, and wine gums, and I can’t speak for the rest of the group but I know I learned an invaluable lesson: just get up and go and see where the adventure will take you. The three days spent traveling in a tiny car across South Africa made me feel alive in a way that I never had before, and as difficult, scary, and different as it may have been, it affirmed for me that I made the right choice in leaving home for the other side of the world this semester.