The Java tour - 15 - 25 August

[Strompie]

At one point in The Rocky Horror Picture Show, RiffRaff sings :

It's astounding;
Time is fleeting;
Madness takes its toll.

Well, PapaBeeR and I finally got to do our Java tour. 11 days and 4100km later we were safely home. And then I blinked, and a month has passed. With one of my major projects now out of the way, the RR will soon follow.

 

[heti]

As dit die kwaliteit van die fotos gaan wees, kan ek nie wag nie!!!  :sip: :drif:

 

[PaPaBeeR]

Was n awesome trip gewees. Heti jy kan lekker na die fotos kyk Strompie het n digital oog

 

[iamgigglz]

As dit die kwaliteit van die fotos gaan wees, kan ek nie wag nie!!!  :sip: :drif:

+1 and sub
That's a fantastic shot!

 

[Strompie]

Day 1.  Pretoria to Badplaas.

I scribbled the following on my blog in October of 2010.

I have a dream. I dream to take a motorcycle trip around rural South Africa, visiting all 9 provinces. The idea is to rarely going more than 400km on any given day. We will avoid all ‘N’ routes, popping into small, out of the way towns and finding out from the locals what makes them tick. I want to experience local food, and round it off with some good coffee and conversation. The emphasis will always be on stopping, rather than riding. I want to experience life away from the convenient. Gauteng , where I live, has become a fast-paced place of instant meals, instant cash, where ‘instant’ cannot happen fast enough. I want to experience life as it should be. There is just no way we can begin to plan this trip, save for a very vague outline of the intended route, and even that is not cast in stone. We intend to take pictures of people and places we come across, and listen intently to their story.

Coffee was the theme for the tour, and Mark and I stocked up on a lot of coffee. And I mean a LOT. We had 75 sachets made up. The idea was to consume as we went, but also to share the Java-spirit wherever we came. As you will find out as this story unfolds, we were ill-prepared for what lay ahead. But I guess that is what makes this an adventure.

The first day was going to be to Badplaas, unpack the bikes and ride through to the ghost-town on the other side of Barberton.

This is us, all packed and ready to go. The Harley carried the precious coffee and most of the tools we might need in case of a puncture. The rest of the luggage went on the Strom, and fully laden the bike coped perfectly. Coffee was supplied by Bean There and we had to get the T-shirt-shot.

As we snaked through the last bit of traffic, I felt the worries of the daily grind also leave me. We planned for this day for so long, and here we were. The Suzuki and the Harley rumbling along nicely. Past Cullinan we went, and onward to Bronkhorstspruit. We just kept going until we stopped at Balmoral. This place houses graves of people who died in concentration camps. There is a little museum depicting what life was like. As we dismounted we instinctively took cellphones out, worrying about work, but I had to force myself to say nay nay. There is something serene about a cemetery. I don't know if it just the wind through the trees, or the silence, but I, for one, simply cannot walk around a cemetery without being moved.

​

Because we wanted to avoid the N4, we went via Ogies, Kriel, Bethal, Hendrina, Carolina, and on to Badplaas. We stayed at Hlumu Lodge. A very basic setup away from the bustle of the Forever resort. The cabins are very basic but dinner and breakfast was skillfully prepared by Memory. He is the chef, and as far as I could gather, a Zimbabwean who became a chef in the Seychelles. His accent is very difficult to describe.

​

With so many roadworks holding us up, we knew Barberton was a bridge to far, so we took it easy and took some photos of the bikes, and went to the bar. We played a bit of pool and started chatting with the locals. Tamryn was serving behind the bar. An American girl all the way from Seattle. She was only in SA for 2 days, and still believed it was fun. I wonder how she's coping.  Hlumu lodge is in the process of becoming a haven for animals and the place teemed with animals. But the star of the show was Bruce Banger. Little Bruce was the only survivor of a litter of 11 piglets. The owners thought none of the pigs were going to make it so the removed them from the mother. Because Bruce was taken away, he could not be reunited with his mother and is now hand-reared.  One of the dogs adopted little Bruce and they are a comical combination.  

After dinner we went to the cabin, only to discover that you can plan us much as you want, you always forget something. The laptop we carried with us, had no power. The cable neatly folded on my desk. At home. This meant that we could not download the daily tracklog. Well one thing is certain, nothing could prepare us for the cock-up Day 2 was going to be, but hey, ignorance is bliss !

 

[Strompie]

Day 2 - Badplaas to Vrede. The long way round.

A beautiful sunrise at Hlumu. We had to get up early, because we had to play some musical chairs with the luggage, as it seems as if, overnight, the luggage formed hostile relationship and doubled in volume. Our plan for the day was to head to Bethlehem. We have some family and friends there, so after breakfast we set off, fill the tanks, and then I made a typo. Our heading was Amersfoort, but for some reason, I was convinced that Amsterdam was, sort of, on our way. With Amsterdam our new destination, we set off. All smiles. When we got there, we came across a 3 cylinder donkey cart, which I promptly photographed.

And then reality hit. Amsterdam became the joke of the trip. We were way off course, and running late. We retraced to Ermelo, and started making our way to Amersfoort.

As we headed South, I said to Mark that we are going via Memel and Verkykerskop to Harrismith. All's well. Or so we thought. When we got to Memel, everything went pear-shaped. If we only paid more attention to the WD forums, we should have seen that the road from Memel to Harrismith is 45km gravel. Fiine for the Strom, but the American in the group said "nay nay".

For the second time this day, we changed direction, heading to Vrede. At some point on the road there, we stopped to re-group. As we stood there bemused, a F800GS arrived, and we had a chin-wag with the rider. The one side of his bike was covered in milk. Apparently he made some coffee next to the road, and did not close his milk container properly. He disappeared down a gravel road in a cloud of dust. We had some coffee of our own. After all, this was the Java - tour.

As we got to Vrede, we were very tired from the relentless wind. And we decided to call it a day. We drove into Vrede, and, at the first B&B sign we turned left. then saw another and turned again.  With no idea where we are going to stay, we stopped at the first B&B that looked like a place you want to stay. Denise and Johan answered the door, but did not have a double room. They invited us in anyway, and while Denise was phoning the other B&B's in the town, I proceeded to make coffee for the two of them. As we sat down in the kitchen, out came the home baked cookies. Denise found us a place to stay, but we were chatting too much to be in any sort of hurry. After a delightful chat about the sad state of the country, we said our goodbyes, and drove up to our overnight spot called The Glen, with our hosts Marietjie and Johan.

That evening Mark and I decided to plan better, and as we sat around the table with maps, Johan joined in and the local knowledge helped us a lot in planning for the next day. That evening we went for dinner at "Ouhout". As we had our dinner, patrons walked in and introduced themselves with a tip of the hat. I really love these small towns. We had another early night, as we quite a bit of ground to cover the next day.

 

[PaPaBeeR]

Brings back memories.

 

[captain jack]

awesome, keep it coming

 

[Strompie]

Day 3 : Vrede to Ladybrand

With our original route now out the window, Mark and I decided to really take it easy and enjoy the tour for what it is. For the riding more than the destination. THis is the type of roads I wanted to see today.

After breakfast we took a quick picture of our hosts, printed the photo for them, and started packing.

I looked out the window and I saw the trees doing a slow dance in the wind. It was cold and the wind did not look at all promising. We filled the bikes and headed towards Warden. Already I could feel the wind buffeting but by the time we got near Harrismith, we stopped at the Caltex for coffee, and here we saw the power of the wind.

I just imagine the clatter when this roof collapsed. We sat in the Starstop, drinking coffe, looking at the two bikes freezing outside. We did not want to leave the cosy restaurant, but we had to push on. Just before Harrismith we passed a Mazda 5 with two bouncing kids in waving at us. Warm and snug, while we were freezing our nuts off, and feeling like an oceangoing yacht in the wind. Fortunately, as we approached Golden gate, the wind died down a bit, so we could enjoy the passes.

We stopped in Clarens for lunch next to another Harley. All the boxes were ticked when this guy ordered, as there is even volume control for the radio on the pillion seat. I mean really. I don't like Clarens. But I don't like for the nose-in-the-air snobs that walk around there. I saw a Truimph adventure bike too. Neatly strapped to a trailer and being paraded round the square in Clarens. I could see the embarrassment in the bike's headlights. Ashamed of being strapped to a trailer and not be allowed to roam free. Look, if you have money to splash for a bike, just ride the damn thing. The falseness of the place soon got to me, and we headed to Fouriesburg. We stopped at a little farm stall and I decided to buy some biscuits to dunk in th coffee. For my R20 I was given stuff that were surely baked when WP last won the Currie cup. Dunking it in coffee made the coffee harden. We had some fun in the yard before heading to Ficksburg.

Just before Ficksburg we were stopped at a roadblock to check road worthiness. While my bike was being put through it's paces, the Harley drew attention from a female officer. She stroked the tank lovingly and said in an accent straight from the Cape : "Dis 'n Harleee Deiwidsin". She completely forgot the check the bike for any faults, asking instead where we were heading. "Jeffreys Bay", I heard Mark say. She looked at the two small saddle bags and exclaimed "Nei man ! Ma waas jou klieeeere!". I had to contain my laughter, but as we left the roadblock we collapsed laughing.

We continued on our route and when we got to Ladybrand, we checked into Casa Romana. We inquired about dinner and we were told about a restaurant and also what dish to order. We set off to photograph the church in Ladybrand and then went to dinner.

Dinner was certainly delightful, but not much happens in Ladybrand. We were the only patrons there when we arrived, and were the only ones there when we left. Tomorrow, we have plans to go via Bloem, down towards Bethulie.

 

[MegaPix]

Gaan jy nou ooit die storie klaar skryf?

  ???