‘Why is there traffic here?’
I grumble as I drive over the Buffalo River Bridge from the airport. Traffic in East London was a foreign concept when I was younger. I know it takes more or less 15 minutes to get from one place to another. Not any more, clearly. With a famous Shamrock steak and kidney pie in one hand (these pies, available at any garage shop or cafe, are found only in the Eastern Cape) and my phone in the other hand, I take an image of Buffalo River to upload to Instagram later. It is quiet by the river, with no people in sight, and it seems to go on forever. East London is the only city in South Africa with four rivers (the other three flow into the sea at Nahoon, Bonza Bay and Gonubie). The Buffalo is the largest of the four, some 126 kilometres long and 140 metres wide where it meets the ocean. But it’s not the kind of river you can take romantic strolls along, as there are no paths, pavements or promenades. It’s both undeveloped and overdeveloped, home to the only river port in the country. A memory crosses my mind: trying out for the rowing team in Grade 8 on the river. My biggest concern was falling into the water – I mean, who knew what lurked underneath the surface? Next to the harbour is the Daimler (Mercedez-Benz) car-manufacturing plant that is responsible for connecting this part of the Eastern Cape to the world, and the major industry in town. It funds the Coastal Education & Visitors Centre at Nahoon, which, if seen from the air, looks like a footprint. The centre is part of the Nahoon Point Nature Reserve, established in 2004 to protect dune forest, beach, rocky shore, numerous caves and its ‘archaeological potential’, according to Kevin Cole, project coordinator of the reserve management committee. Zandile Dlova, the River Control Officer responsible for patrolling Buffalo City coastal zone and dealing with stranded dolphins and whales, gives me a tour of the reserve, including Bat’s Cave – home to masses of Egyptian fruit bats. The trail leading there is breathtaking and well preserved. To my delight, I learn there are a number of trails through the reserve, designed to explore this special part of the
East London coast. I had no idea there was such a natural treasure here. If I knew then what I know now, my weekends would have been more productive. During my schooling days, not more than a decade ago, my friends and I attended derby days at the boys’ school across the road, and had sleepovers and slipped off for a night of dancing our youth away at Numbers – the popular club in town (sadly, it closed in 2014). There have been urban changes over the years, too, which explains the heavier traffic. There are roadworks everywhere, construction sites and new developments – the Gillwell Taxi Retail Park in the CBD, built in 2015, was the first of its kind in SA, combining a mall with a taxi rank. Avanzas and small private cars (old Cressidas and Fords) are used as taxis in East London; we call them ‘amaphela’, which means cockroaches. The following morning I head to Arcadia, a semi-industrial area where my mother used to buy anything we needed for the house – tiles, plumbing, kitchen appliances, window frames. I’ve come here for breakfast at Ginger & Co because my friend Yolisa never stops talking about the great decor and coffee there. ‘It was risky placing the business here,’ says owner Benji Gane. ‘Our friends and family said it wouldn’t work, but we took the risk. East London takes its time to get ‘with it’ but people enjoy the industrial feel of the area and it’s easily accessible.’ I enjoy a bacon-and-avo croissant, and as I’m leaving the restaurant I smell the ocean, which reminds me of one of the best things about East London. I drive towards it.
Quigney is in this direction and was one of the first suburbs in East London. It’s where the Wimpy is that my father and I always visited after school; the waitresses knew what we wanted and where we would sit without us having to say a word. It’s also where the East London Aquarium is, the oldest in South Africa (opened back in 1931). I love anything that involves the ocean, but I find I have a one-of-a kind thirst that only a double-thick milkshake from the Friesland Milk Bar can quench. It started out as a dairy; the original shop has been in Quigney since 1924, and is a true landmark. Milkshake in hand, I head over to the German Settlers’ Memorial on the Esplanade to drink it in the company of a family made of stone, overlooking Quigney Beach. Along the Esplanade, people sell straw baskets, colourful beadwork jewellery and wood carvings of the Big Five to tourists. A strong feeling of nostalgia draws me to another suburb, Selborne. The houses on this side of town are beautiful and it’s where my old school is, across the road from the East London Museum. For old times’ sake, I go into the museum. The smell is still as distinct and the stuffed animals behind the glass look as real as they did when I was a curious 10-year-old, in a below-knee-length skirt, excited to be on a school excursion. The coelacanth that was discovered in 1938 on the East London docks is still one of the headliners at the museum. It also has the only dodo egg in existence and the world’s oldest human fossil footprint, left at Nahoon Point 124 000 years ago (the ‘archaeological value’ of Nahoon, as Kevin Cole described it, suddenly makes more sense). I go down the road to another favourite spot – the Ann Bryant Art Gallery, housed in a family home built in 1905. It still has the creaky wooden floors and stained-glass windows and feeling of peace I loved so much as a child. The curious painting of the Chinese lady is still there. While there have been quite a few changes in East London, some things remain the same; there’s a lot of comfort and joy in that. I sit in the garden, where we’d eat our packed lunch on those school outings, lean back and smile. This is what home feels like.