Arniston camp

Considering I’d never set foot in a tent before I met John, I’m sure as hell making up for it now. Not that I’m complaining.

With one night only on the bus, post PE, we were off again. To the beach – where else? We’d promised Quentin some weeks earlier that we’d camp at Arniston one weekend (briefly visited before on Agulhas trip) and set a date. He was still ultra keen, grossly overworked and desperate for a break so no going back.

It’s an easy drive to Arniston, less than two hours, and the Municipal camp site there is good. Inexpensive, almost deserted (though I might give it a miss at Christmas, peak of their summer holidays) and hot showers to die for. The beauty of spontaneous camping is that you go when the weather is good. This was of course planned so it wasn’t. We pitched the tent in a minor hurricane and crawled inside for shelter as the rain came down. And then spotted that the bit that fits on top of the tent to keep it watertight was missing. We discussed possible items we may have that would do the same job but drew a blank. Eventually I went and grabbed a dustbin lid, which was just the ticket. Never let it be said I am not resourceful..

Saturday morning was sunny, dry and windless. To the beach then.

We found the caves that John wanted to see, no doubt hoping to find more bones and, when we discovered the secret way through to the main event, it was a beauty.

See the surfers?

John sees the light

Truth be told we followed a little girl who spotted it.

We just followed, Alice in Wonderland-like, through the hole

Splendid fishing boats

Then the hike along the beach and around the rocky headlands in the general direction of the hotel, seemingly the only commercial outlet in Arniston, and a much needed cup of coffee. This is a working fishing village, with authentic fisherman’s cottages and some splendid fishing boats.

All very unspoilt – they even managed to squash plans for a shopping centre development there. Well done, it would have totally ruined the feel of the place.

We rested along the way – beer and ciggie break – and when I requested a photo moment was told to…well the second word was off. Charming. Mind you, with sunglasses like that I might be camera shy too. Should have gone to Specsavers Q !

Bad shades Q

It was another great camp but I was looking forward to being back at the bus for my last few days in South Africa. We headed off on Sunday, taking the dirt road back. Not as thrilling as some we have done but we did see a strange phenomenum on the way…

Never seen anything like it....

Can you see what they are yet?

Snails!

Tags: Arniston, cave, fishing boats, fishing village, minor hurricane, rocky headlands, unspoilt