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…bonkers car
Hot Hot Hot
17 Jan
Do not misunderstand me. No way am I complaining. But bugger it is hot here.
Just looked at Weather SA on the old confuser, which confirms my observations – bugger it is hot here. Except they put it like this – ” Extremely uncomfortable, extremely hot and high veldfire danger”. That translates to 30 degrees plus, humidity of 77% (that’s the killer) and strong risk of bushfire. And that is for 10am! Yesterday was the same and the forecast for tomorrow is even more so.
Bush fire just over the road from here
On the bus or off the bus – makes no odds. So I have, for now, settled on the middle ground: the front passenger seat. If there is the faintest breeze I’ll get it here and it is, at the moment, in the shade. The natural air-con should kick in this afternoon – the cooling wind that almost always comes up after noon. At which point I’ll probably switch to the hammock or perhaps the rustic bench under the tree. Maybe I’ll just stand under the shower.
But until then best policy is to do as little as possible and drink plenty. I don’t have a problem with that.
While I try to remain motionless (but am still melting) here, John is once again working on the Uno in Hermanus. CV boots and wheel bearings now. Rather him than me. A kind friend has loaned his bakkie so that John can get about if the Uno has to be left in bits in the workshop, needing more time, parts or whatever. Still, it will be like a new car when done. Ok, that might be a bit of an exaggeration but it’ll be one hell of a lot better/safer to ride in.
Think we’re off to PE next week, hence the purge on the car, calling at friends on the way and then going on to Anysberg where we plan to camp. This will be Road-trip no. 2 and just me and John this time. Looking forward to it but concerned as to who will water the plants while we’re away – they’re doing ever so well; be a shame to come back and find them all shrivelled….
You can see the little butternuts forming and there’s tomatoes, peppers and rocket – which we’ve sampled and pronounced delicious.
Baby butternut
Then there’s all the other cuttings, which without exception have taken, and have the makings of a fine garden. One day.
My mission today is to progress the brick paving that we have started under the tree. It’s easy enough to do and looking good so far. I’d like to extend it by way of a pathway to the shower too – nicer to walk on than sand when feet are just cleaned but still wet. But it’s going to have to cool down some before I can contemplate carrying the bricks to where they need to be – the wheelbarrow has a flat tyre.
I think it will be an evening job. Anyway, photo of completed work hopefully coming soon.
I feel my time here slipping away – only four weeks left now. So once we are back from PE, my thoughts will be of packing and the return journey. I look forward to being re-united with Hobo but will be sad to leave here – my sunshine home. All those half finished bus projects will have to be shelved until the next time and the boat ones resurrected.
The fires of the braai will change to those of the wood stove, (in front of which I shall still swelter), the shorts exchanged for longs and the flip-flops traded for Ugg boots.
Dirt Roads take Toll on Uno…
7 JanNew steering rack and wishbone being fitted. Took about ten hours – everything that could go wrong did – so that took care of Friday.
TJ has the patience of a saint. Well done him. Have to get the alignment done next, then the alternator needs fixing.
Apart from that it’s fine.
Cool Cars…words not necessary
7 Jan
The cat's whiskers
Front of a one-off...
…bonkers car
Love the bonnet straps...
...and spots
It's a Toyota- but not as we know it
Nearly missed this one as in camo - will be gone next year anyway
Cute truck
Oops
Fly-Drive Adventure to the Southern-most Tip of Africa
6 Jan
Early Tuesday morning John flew off in the Hawk to Andrew’s Field, an airfield near Struisbaai that he knows of old and speaks very highly of. T.J. and I played ground-crew in the Benzie, its enormous boot easily swallowing all the camping gear and petrol for re-fuelling the aeroplane.
Boma
As John had promised, it is a fabulous facility with toilet, shower, shady spot to pitch the tent
Our shady camp
and lovely sheltered area for a braai.
TJ in charge of the fire
It was all set up by the owner, Andrew – a very nice man, for the use of visiting flyers. There was no charge, no-one else there and just a walk through the sand dunes away from the most spectacular stretch of beach I’ve seen. Ever.
Shifting sands
Totally unspoilt
Wow
Unspoilt white sand, beautiful aqua sea, the most unusual and brightly coloured shells. And bones. No people. Perfect.
Surreal and spectacular
We flew each morning, early so as to avoid the high winds that always arrive later on, me and T.J. taking turns as John’s passenger. I’m not sure the pictures tell the whole story but, believe me, flying low over the shore is breathtaking. Surreal.
Fact: It’s the longest sandy beach in the Southern hemisphere.
Stress express indeed
It’s fire season here and, a real treat for the boys, there was a Huey and a huge Russian plane there – both on stand-by for fire bombing duties.
John and bomber no. 9
Fire bomber
Huey
The Hawk mixing it with the big boys
We got to see the Huey in flight, coincidentally flying above us on one of our drives, and again back at camp on its return. The sound is unmistakable. Think Vietnam chopper.
Lighthouse
Southern-most John
We poked around the harbour at Struisbaai and drove to Cape Agulhas, the southern-most tip of Africa, where the Atlantic and Indian oceans meet . Many, many shipwrecks in these waters. We dipped our toes, went up the lighthouse (not for the faint-hearted), the whole tourist bit. We also motored to Arniston, another gorgeous location, and took a spin around the fishermen’s cottages – lovely old buildings. We had planned to see the cave but it is only open at low tide and of course it wasn’t when we were there. No matter.
It’s a superb part of the world and largely affluent so sadly few examples of trashed motor cars that so amuse me. This is white 4×4 city with a fair smattering of beach buggies.
We did, however, see some delightfully eccentric vehicles and manage to spot the odd wrecker… see Cool Cars – coming soon.
Fishtrap
On the way to Heidehof
Coastwise to Heidehof
I flew with John to Heidehof, halfway back; more endless beaches – even one with buried houses. We could just see the roofs above the sand. Quite strange.
T.J. met us there, more re-fuelling and then I transferred to the Benzie for the home stretch. We arrived back at the bus Thursday afternoon ready for a snooze – these 5am starts are killing me.
Cape Agulhas, Struisbaai and Arniston
Click on the map and look at all the shipwrecks.
Those three days were special.
All Aboard the New Year
1 JanLet’s hope it’s a good one.
But you never really know what’s in store, do you? We bowl along, making our plans; maybe hoping for new beginnings/ better times or expecting more of the same old, same old. Either way, I don’t believe we have a hell of a lot to do with the outcome.
2012 for me?
I look forward to seeing Hobo and being on the water again, more adventures with John and spending time with friends. I hope to stay (or perhaps I should say become) healthy this year. I’m planning on getting a part time job – maybe a little cleaning number – to bring in some cash before the savings evaporate completely, leaving me unable to live the way I choose. In the meantime I shall write my socks off in the hope that it will make me a living. Heaven forbid I should have to get a proper job.
That’s all I need – how about you?
In any event, I hope you stay well and happy and have a lekker new year.
HAPPY NEW YEAR FROM US TWO
Rust in Peace
31 DecI like cars. Always have. New ones, old ones, fast ones, classic ones, foreign ones, shiny ones, rusty ones. All sorts. I’ve driven lots since age thirteen. I’ve bought them, sold them, coveted them and crashed them.
All in all I prefer the older ones. You had to be able to drive them; nothing was automatic, not even the choke, no syncro on the gears or power steering. In-car entertainment – you’d have to fit a radio and aerial. Traction control – what’s that? Navigation was by roadmap – satellites were the stuff of science fiction. And ABS? To stop quickly meant standing on the brake pedal. They were individual, had character and I could recognise the make by the headlights in my rear-view mirror. Try that today…
But never have I seen a more interesting collection of clapped out, shabby old bangers than on the roads here. They are often suicidally overloaded, kept going on a wing and a prayer and held together with gaffer tape and string. Bald tyres are the norm, despite the fine being more than the cost of a new one, and there’s a few specials about where the wires poke through. Also frequently seen broken down on the shoulder. But they fix them, somehow manage to keep them going – out of necessity I suspect. At least you can work on older vehicles though. No computer scanner nonsense. Even I could strip down the carburettor of the old Minxie, my first car, blow out the jets and re-assemble.
They would never get through an MOT. But they don’t have to. No annual checks here – just a one-off roadworthy certificate on change of ownership. Explains a lot.
That’s just what you see. Many of the cars on the road have have engine implants; indeed few bear their original innards. There are big cars with totally unsuitable, under-powered engines to satisfy those with a need to look cool yet hope for economy, and small cars with monstrously tuned jobs – real wolves in sheep’s clothing. And you should see some of the workmanship – varying from the awe-inspiring to the downright terrifying and ramshackle. This is a country of extremes.
And I love them all. It has become my latest photographic fixation and am in search of the best worst example. The sad thing is, three of the vehicles I have been riding in are contenders (two on the road and the other – engine out waiting for a donor).
Like I said in a previous post, we’ve been keeping off the roads so not much photo opportunity. Yet. Expect to see random shots of suitable specimens popping up in future posts, just when you least expect them.
For now, I give you three Fiat (Fix It Again Tomorrow) Unos, with their proud owners. These cars are known hereabouts as kannie dood – meaning immortal. A bit like the old English adage – Old Fords Never Die.
Les and his blue one-John and his red one-Robert and his white one
Red-Neck Christmas
31 DecWe made a conscious decision to stay away from everything this silly season – the shops, the roads, the people. Even the pub. Traffic cops will be out in force and tend to sit in gaggles, five cars strong, just where you don’t need them – en route of the pub and the bus is a favourite. Everybody drinks and drives here so not only is it damned dangerous if you get in the way of a bakkie full of boozed up blacks, but the penalties can be awful if you get caught doing it yourself. And I don’t fancy an African jail. At all. You don’t get bail and have to stay banged up till the magistrate comes off holiday, which may be some time. It’s not so much Bah Humbug as self preservation.
So here we are at the bus on an isolated farm. It’s like the world has gone away. Really. We are pottering about, doing exactly as we please without a care for usual traditions/Family Commitments/The Christmas Dinner/Present Buying. None of that commercial crap. Couldn’t be better. T.J. has loaded music and movies onto the little craptop so we are sorted in that department and right nice it is too.
I know it’s still out there though as e mails from distraught friends who are caught up in it all depict all too clearly. My heart goes out to you.
Over the holiday, John has been gently but steadily converting the bus lights to LED and/or engaging in a little landscaping. The results of both are brilliant and, in the case of the latter, surprisingly instant.
Newly converted Deco fitting
New terrace and planting above shower
I’ve been having a crack at painting, having acquired some cute little reseal-able plastic pots of water based paint and a brush. (They came in a kit which included a model horse, which I’m sure John will enjoy putting together at some point). And John produced a sketch pad from thin air. I’m pleased with my efforts, not bad for a first attempt, and I have started a gallery on the bus windows. I think it might be worth pursuing and look forward to splashing out on some proper tools for the job.
Painting kit
We didn’t quite get away with it though. On The Day itself, John’s tenants invited us over for the evening… “You both come eat with us?” Well, be rude not to. So we abandoned the fire, which was just about ready for the steak, and I fridged all the trimmings I’d been lovingly chopping, grabbed all the beer we could carry and wandered over.
There’s quite a bit of serious drinking to be done before we get a go at the food. Let me tell you, these people can really drink. We sit on the stoep, amid assorted white goods (mostly defunct), bits of machinery, bags of rubbish for re-cycling, empty bottles, a compressor, boxes, the odd straggly plant, a propeller mounted over the door and a parrot (also likes a drink) with washing lines, complete with pegs, zig-zagging overhead.
It’s a generous verandah though and we all fit – us, mum, dad, three boys and a girlfriend. Chairs and stools for the grown-ups, steps for the kids and wobbly table for the brandy, coke and ice bucket. Two dogs, three cats and geese roam the yard where various kennels and cages abound (containing what I’m not sure and don’t want to know), more washing line, hosepipe, bits of scrap, more broken things, dog bowls and three motorbikes. (In-between drinks, the boys take off on these for hairy rides around the farm, arriving back with scraped arms and legs, covered in sand and in hysterics). Beyond the fence sits an old broken BMW car and a working (but only just – three cylinders at best and wiring to worry about) bakkie.
The talk is largely Afrikaans, interspersed with enough English to stop me glazing over, and the laughter is constant, free and infectious. These are simple folk who party hard when not working. It’s all very red-neck but charming. No signs of vanity or pretence here; what you see is what you get.
The food was eventually made available and what a spread it was. Roast chicken, salt beef, gammon, lamb, tongue with an army of accompanying salads and sauces. Delicious. Despite being full to bursting, I indulged in the pud – can’t say what is was but it was very sweet, sickly and sensational.
1 week old kitties
We had a great time. And we found the kittens.
So how was it for you?
Boatbird
Boatbird 