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*Nieu-Bethesda to Arniston  Above: It had to be done ... shirt suits you Roj ... tasteful - suspect Shelley-ann's trying to disassociate herself from this particular shot. It's always a tug to leave Nieu-Bethesda but we were sneaking past half time on our trip and still had lots to see. Besides we still had to leave a few things to do for the next visit. Climb the Kompasberg, maybe? Besides we were now headed for our first taste of the sea. This day would be our last ultra-journey of the trip heading through Graaff-Reinet to Beaufort West where we would pick up the N1 for a quick 200 km run down to Laingsburg. From Laingsburg we'd take the road less travelled, crossing the Klein Swartberg[1] into the Little Karoo through the Seweweekspoort Mountain Pass to finally rest for the night just outside Ladismith in the little Karoo. Great plan but we hadn't counted on the countless contra-flows on the N1, South Africa's premier highway. A sense of humour becomes indispensable when encountering the umpteenth traffic control without any idea of how long the latest stationary interlude will last. And there's always the bladder challenge. Ages range from 63-78 and there's nowhere to hide for 450 km. The "low road" via Willowmore, Prince Albert and the Swartberg Pass may have had its consolations! Above: it's a long way and one has to concentrate; it's dead flat where we're travelling but the mountains continue to brood; and then it's semi-desert for 350 km and 4 hours (there're roadworks on the N1, you see) Suddenly it all becomes worthwhile Wees and teas (accompanied by a competent sandwich) while filling up at the Laingsburg Engen ... now there's a relief not to be missed. For anyone tempted to follow in our footsteps, the turnoff in Laingsburg from the N1 on to the R323 can require some vigilance so make sure to pause the post-prandial lethargy when leaving the fuel station. And then you're on to an oxymoron: one of the most beautiful stretches of road in South Africa with decent roads and almost zero traffic. After a while of gigantic scenery the route does become dirt-road based but I've done it twice and it's one of the gentlest surfaces in the country. But beware, around 22 km out of Laingsburg the R323 bifurcates rather confusingly. Both options will take you to Ladismith but if you turn right you'll be missing out on the spectacular Seweweekspoort Pass and its sublime approach. This is a gentle road along a valley with verdant riverside pastures and grapevines on the left, fed by a tributary of one of a number of Groot Rivers[2] in the Cape, and the brooding magnificence of the Swartberg on the right. We were separated by the Klein (Small) Swartberg from our destination at Mymering Wine and Guest Estate, close to Ladismith in the Little Karoo. There is a great sentinel in this part of the mountain range that is visible from our road down the almost deserted valley and then again from Mymering. The sentinel is aptly named the Towerkop and from where you first see it you are roughly 13 km from the Wine and Guest Estate as the crow flies. Following the road, the only way to get to the other side is via the Seweweekspoort Pass and the distance becomes more than 80 km. But 80 km of deliciousness. We may have encountered one or two other cars cruising along the well maintained gravel road admiring the gorgeous scenery, but no more. A few sample photos follow; editing these was painful in deciding which to omit. Above: (top l-r) the Towerkop comes into view in the top right hand corner; and then becomes more evident as one meanders down the road; (middle l-r) what appear to be vines grace the foot of the foothills; a red roof on an immaculately maintained farmhouse surrounded by fruit trees; (bottom l-r) one of a number of traditional cottages from centuries past; the top of the pass. And then we descend into the Klein (Little) Karoo through the spectacular Seweweekspoort Pass itself which meanders quite gently through the mountains as opposed to the scary Swartberg Pass 60 km (as the crow flies) to the East and which soars over the top. The Seweweekspoort Pass is the cleft in a continuous mountain range made up of the Groot (Big) Swartberg in the East and the Klein (Small) Swartberg on the West. We didn't actually count them but the pass crosses the eponymous river at its floor 23 times in 17 km. There were two main reasons for using this pass to descend into the Klein Karoo. As mentioned earlier Shan refused to ever go over "that scary" Swartberg Pass again (after one previous traverse illustrated in B&W below) and she hadn't seen the Seweweekspoort before. Actually, there was probably one other reason: the latter is undoubtedly prettier than the former. Just to emphasise this the two passes are depicted below adjacent to each other ... the eastern road being depicted in monochrome ... Below: (l-r) the road passes through a veritable canyon before narrow dirt roads hover over the canyons and valleys below - in places two vehicles passing in opposite directions require the outer car or truck to hang over a vertiginous drop only supported by the tallest of dry-stone walls; on the north side of the summit are immense views of the Great Karoo - here only slightly obscured by me, our daughter, Kate, and Shan; Kate and me at the summit; the Swartberg Pass winds its way down on the South side to the Klein Karoo. Above: (top l-r) with love from Shan; meandering down between great walls of red rock; (bottom) the road finds its way in a continuing zig-zag through the craggy monoliths distributed like giant slalom beacons. End of the day It had been a long one! Almost 600 km of highways (with countless contraflows for roadworks), gravel roads and tortuous mountains passes, it was time to rest our weary souls in the sublime scenery that surrounds the Mymering Estate and Wine Farm. Obviously there was wine with which to contemplate the Towerkop again, this time from the other side, but also for a gourmet meal hosted by the proprietor, Andy Hillock, a raconteur and a retired specialist doctor from Port Elizabeth. Above: (top l-r) Shan's husband at Mymering sundowners with the Klein Swartberg in the distance; a little later in the evening with Towerkop in the clouds and without the husband; (bottom l-r) even later in the evening with the wives and husbands having enlisted a willing staff member as photographer; the next morning with Towerkop in the morning light. We had travelled from the North East of South Africa, vaguely following the coast albeit wiggling between < 80 km to > 400 km from the actual sea. So far the journey had been more than 2,500 km and we were to see the sea for the first time after a good night's sleep and a pukka breakfast. After culture, smut It had to be done. We connected with the groovy Route 62, South Africa's Route 66. Lots of motorbikes and cherished vintage cars. Well, not "lots" in a British sense but sociably busy. We were headed for Arniston, an attractive fishing-village-come-resort on the Indian Ocean. We'd been there before and it still retained some of its charm so we were looking forward to some sea air. But first there were some assorted attractions: an alleged sex shop, a rustic ferry across a middle-of-nowhere stretch of river and a kind of raucous pitstop, again in the middle-of-nowhere. So come on Ronnie ... Actually it's a bit more gimmicky than sexy but I believe Ronnie would be the first to admit that. Certainly on a sunny Sunday in February there was quite a vibe about the place and not just from the breakfast runners that stop by on their superbikes. Apparently some female visitors donate their brassieres and these decorate the inner sanctum. I believe Shan asked him how this came about and his comment was: "It only takes one ... ." Above: (top) Roj hamming up the furtiveness of taking his wife to a sex shop; (middle) big bore bikes and perhaps the roadkill they generate?; (bottom l-r) a tractor and our car = utility; and then the porn that is all Italian - all 1299 cc wrapped up in a shade of red only Ducati and Ferrari can muster, underpinned by its desmo sound renting the Karoo highway. Pressing on to the sea Our route continued along groovy 62 through Barrydale (Hello, what else could follow a desert sex shop? Only a Barrydale ...) before turning off on to another spellbinding pass. The Tradouw Pass follows the river of the same name through the Zuurberg mountains that separate the Klein Karoo from the Coastal Region. We had left Route 62 and were heading for the Indian Ocean via one or two more diverting attractions interlinked by more dirt roads. The first of these was to cross the Breede River at Malgas on a punt that had only recently replaced a hand pulled contraption. But first a strangely embarrassing phenomenon. The Starrs kept asking us when we were going to get some quality sightings of baboons and or ostriches. You know, like real close-ups in abundance. We kept reassuring them and then even began to doubt ourselves. After all, on the ostrich front, the Klein Karoo was the home of Oudtshoorn, the town built on untold riches from ostrich feathers gathered from farms throughout the region. That was in the 1880s and the value of the feathers has subsided somewhat since then but recently Shan and I had seen plenty on visits to the Western Cape's Overberg region that we were now entering. Sián and Roger had their eyes peeled ... and sort of "bingo" ... Roger had a sighting and his camera to hand. Above: (top l-r) was this the last pair of ostriches remaining on the planet?; waiting for the outbound passengers to disembark; (bottom l-r) the metropolis of Malgas from midstream on the Breede River; the gate opens for us to scramble up the gravel for the last lap on our journey to the coast. There was one last stop before Arniston and the coast and perhaps one last sighting ... maybe more ostriches??? The stop is a must, a quirky (maybe a bit naff) bar, restaurant, music and dance venue in the middle of the veld. Sort of a bit more polite version of Ronnie's. Actually, "Grunters" was part of a slightly more salubrious Breede River Trading Post and had delicious pizzas and traditional local Castle Lite "lager". Shan and I'd been there previously after a visit to the sublime Sijnn Winery (just a complete standout place to visit with uniquely brilliant wines but, sadly closed on a Sunday) and had very much enjoyed the burgers. This time the pizzas were the choices du jour and sufficiently fulfilling for the leftovers to be happily boxed up and eaten cold at our destination when we reached it a few hours later. An hour or two later than anticipated thanks to my personal hubris of "knowing the route" and travelling the long way around. Road signs are somewhat wanting in South Africa and Satnav is always a good plan. Google does a reasonable job but requires that one has (expensive) data roaming switched on. You'd really think the hire companies would have it as part of the standard package on a fairly upmarket chariot! Above: (top l-r) Shan's contented (some might say smug) face at being in her happy place; Sián took this photo in the Grunter's privy, so we should say no more; (bottom l-r *cheek*) when ostriches roamed the Overberg in 2022, 'onest Starries; painstakingly recording our route so far on a pukka paper plan of South Africa. All that is left of this episode is for esteemed readers to share a little bit of our mutual work and exercise their own imaginations ...  Above: Caption this ... [3] Coming next
Arniston and beyond ... yes, Hermanus. Finally. [Endnotes]:
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