B
Y the time Cradock was 40 years old in 1854, it was known throughout South Africa as a frontier town with a fabulous hotel.
When you and your wagon party drifted in through the Bankberge from Algoa Bay, it was time to fix a wheel and stock up with tobacco, coffee, sugar and ammo for the long trek to the hinterland.
Market Street was where you headed because that’s where the blacksmiths and wheelwrights lived and worked. It also didn’t hurt that there was a decent bar in the new, double-storey Victoria Hotel at the end of the road.
As the decades passed, the Victoria Hotel became a bit of a grande dame in these parts. From its broekielace balcony (now gone), guests viewed the constant flow of commerce at the Cradock Marketplace down below. They heard the roar of export-quality lions over at Toger van Abo’s animal pens and, at the turn of the century, they also witnessed the occupying British hang a Cape rebel or two.
Even when the era of the motorised wagon dawned, local farmers still rode into town on their horses. One of them would steer his mount into the hotel and right up to the bar counter. The barman would pour a drink for the farmer and then feed the horse a draught of beer, served in a Cadillac hubcap.
OK, so today you’re not allowed to ride your steed into the hotel, never mind buying him a hubcap of beer. But everything else looks and feels like you’ve just time-tripped back to the 1850s.
The reception area is old-school and hospitable. The dining rooms (three of them) are laid out as if for a Royal visit. Breakfast is a classical feast with a sophisticated twist. In the evenings, they give you a sherry before you troop off to supper, which is a symphony built around some delicious form of Karoo lamb.
The rooms in the hotel are from the pages of history, but with airconditioning comfort. This is, after all, the Karoo. The 30-odd restored cottages, each with its own theme and personality, will have you wistfully wanting to extend your stay.
It’s the complete Victorian-era package without the lumpy bits.
However, that’s only part of the magic of Die Tuishuise & Victoria Manor in Market Street. The rest of the charm is all human.
For starters, there’s the founder and owner, Sandra Antrobus. She is a farmer’s wife with a penchant for restoration and collecting antiques.
She began back in the 1980s with one derelict cottage in a street that had lost all its former glory.
Tumbledown dwellings didn’t cost much so she slowly acquired more of them over the years and then got the prize: the Victoria Hotel on the corner. Back then, a more apt name for this sad old hostelry would have been the Villa of Reduced Circumstances.
Marvelling at all the historic décor items, I once asked Sandra: “Do guests ever grow long fingers and make off with your stuff?”
“No,” she replied. “In fact, it’s the other way around — they leave things behind. False teeth, an entire suitcase full of travelling clothes and a full wallet — that’s the tally so far.
“The guy with the wallet said, ‘Hold on to it until we come through again.’ His wife’s credit card was in there and he reckoned she’d spend less this way.”
Her daughters, Cherie and Lisa, handle some of the hotel management chores, backed up by a squad of accountants, chefs, maintenance fellows (these buildings need constant TLC), front-of-housers and back-ofhousers. Lisa’s husband, Dave Ker, is head of admin.
One of the faces you’ll grow to know and love if you become a regular here is that of Amos Nteta. A former stalwart of the anti-apartheid struggle, Amos has become one of the beaming faces of Cradock hospitality.
It’s very simple: he treats every guest like family. Which is the way of this place … — © Chris Marais