The long road (in your) home

If you love camping but you’re not too keen on pitching camp and then packing everything up again, a motorhome might just be the answer.

Long road trips are full of surprises – you never know exactly what the day will bring. Sure, you have your route planned and accommodation booked, but the time in between is often like a brand-new colouring book that only gets coloured in on the way.

When I got up this morning, for example, I would never have guessed that a llama would bite me because I told him his haircut looked like that of an Australian rugby player. And now I have a bruise on my back. I join Sam, my other half, as she laughs while documenting it on camera. It’s moments like this that make a holiday unforgettable.

A WIDE LOOP

The llama is one of a collection of animals at the Fynbos Guest Farm’s animal sanctuary outside Tulbagh. Sam cannot resist an alpaca or llama, so we simply had to stop. There are also zebras, donkeys, emus, springboks, and a host of other animals that we wanted to photograph before hitting the road again. Yesterday in Riebeek Kasteel, we tasted olives and browsed antique shops, before checking out bonsai and potted plants at the Riebeek Valley Garden Centre in Riebeek West. Today, we head into the Breede River Valley via Robertson, and then along the Kogmanskloof Pass to Montagu.

We set off from Atlantis on a 12-day loop that will take us through the Cape Winelands and Karoo to Addo in the Eastern Cape. Here, we’ll turn west and drive through the Garden Route to the Overberg, before experiencing a bit of wine country on the way home. It’s a wide loop, which is why we keep the daily distances short so we can take it slow.

Sam and I have already been to many of the places on our route before, but this trip is a chance to properly explore known spots. Besides, we have a lot of time to wander around without worrying about a place to sleep every night, because we’re in almost an entire flat on wheels.

That’s also why we start in Atlantis: it’s here where we get the keys to a Discoverer 4 motorhome at the Bobo Campers depot. As we get our first look at its interior, I realise the living area in the back that sleeps four, complete with a bathroom and kitchen, is indeed almost the same size as our flat in

Tamboerskloof. “You joke, but it’s true!” exclaims Sam, as she busies herself at the wardrobe, unpacking our bags.

When we arrive at the first campsite of the tour, the second big advantage of touring with a motorhome is immediately obvious. I park, get out, and plug in the extension cord at our site’s caravan plug and, hey presto, our camp is set up! It’s the fastest I’ve ever gone from behind the wheel of my vehicle to my camping chair. “But really,” I say to Sam as she hands me a cold beer from the motorhome’s fridge, “our apartment isn’t that much bigger. The only difference is that our veranda now has a different view every day.”

IT’S RAINING IN THE KAROO!

In Montagu, we overnight at the Montagu Guano Cave resort, where there’s a cave with thousands of bats, and encounter an impressive collection of rabbits and chickens from all over the world (even another llama or two). This time I shut up about hairstyles…

At Barrydale, it’s too early for a milkshake, so we stick to coffee,

surrounded by the colourful collection of antiques at the Diesel & Crème eatery. Then, we stop at the House of Books for a while, where the owner, Anton de Villiers, shows us his collection of thousands of books. By the time we stop at Ronnie’s Sex Shop for a cool drink and a pic, the motorhome’s thermometer shows it is 35 °C outside. Near Ladismith, I show Sam where a witch slit the Towerkop mountain in two, and just before Oudtshoorn, I pull off to take some pics of a few ostriches. “When we were little and went on holiday, we always kept our eyes open for the first ostrich along the way,” says Sam. “Nowadays, it feels as though my holiday only starts properly once I see one.”

The next day, we drive to Prince Albert, barely 110 km from Oudtshoorn. The motorhome won’t make it over the Swartberg Pass, but Meiringspoort is a beautiful alternative. I drive it at a snail’s pace so I can gaze at the reddish brown cliffs that shoot up like skyscrapers both sides of the road. We follow the tar as it winds its way through the mountain. Once on the other side, I turn into Klaarstroom’s short main road next to the N12 for the first time to look at the hamlet’s historic buildings. This is where the then wool farmers from the Karoo were able to wash their cargo for the last time (Klaarstroom gets its name from clear river water) before taking it to market in Mossel Bay.

In Prince Albert, we wander up and down the main street and peek into art galleries and gift shops, before sitting down on the Swartberg Hotel’s veranda to order G&Ts from a menu with descriptions we don’t quite get. Mine has rosemary sprigs and orange peel and Sam’s is bright orange. “Mmm, I’m not so sure about this one,” she says, so I drink both.

At sunset, the sky around us turns pink, the smell of rain hangs in the sky, and a pile of dark clouds swells above us. Lightning flashes in the distance, and then a flurry of fat raindrops finally breaks the heat of the day. Could there be a better way to end a summer day in the Karoo than with rain?

SAY HELLO TO THE TUSKERS

The Karoo plains stretch wide between Prince Albert and Graaff-Reinet, our next destination. The next morning, we drive through Meiringspoort and De Rust again so we can get on the N9 to Willowmore. I’m going to show Sam the mohair shop

where I bought wool for her on a previous trip (I’m still waiting for that hat she promised me) and the statue of an angora ram next to the magistrate’s office. After all, this is the heart of the mohair industry – the biggest feather in Willowmore’s cap.

I see the Beervlei Dam full of water for the first time next to the N9. The road to Graaff-Reinet is quiet, and we only see another vehicle every now and then. I’m grateful, as it gives me the opportunity to take in the landscape on both sides of the road. After the recent rains, the Karoo is adorned in a lush green robe. The windmills turn in the wind, the farm dams are full, and the sheep’s bellies bulge.

We end the day at the lookout point over the Valley of Desolation in the Kamdeboo National Park. While I take pics, Sam fries sausages on the gas stove in the kitchen. Back at the camp, plugging in the motorhome is again the only thing we have to do – and all we need to do is unplug it the next morning before we go for a drive through the park.

At our next destination, the Addo Elephant National Park, we spend two nights, so we have enough time to linger among the tuskers. There’s a fair amount of tar in the park, and on the gravel roads we drive slowly enough that their vibrations don’t bother us. The extra height is a bonus for game viewing, but it’s at the Spekboom shelter that we see the most beautiful elephants. There’s a waterhole here, but apparently one of the ellies dug up the water pipe and now a whole herd is standing and drinking water within touching distance of the shelter’s windows.

We say goodbye to Addo and get on the N2. We’re driving down the Garden Route all the way to Mossel Bay. We overnight at the beautiful coastal camp at Storms River, and the next night we’re at the equally beautiful Ebb & Flow camp in Wilderness. We know this area well, but we still visit some favourite farm stalls and the Tsitsikamma’s Big Tree that we’d usually just drive on by. And then we make a detour to the hidden beaches of Robberg, on the other side of Plettenberg Bay.

I was a boy the last time I was in Still Bay and am amazed at how much the place has expanded. We check out the caravan park and see only one windswept camper, but at

Jongensfontein, it’s packed. It’s the middle of the week, outside of school holidays, but I can see why Jongensfontein is an old favourite for so many people. This neat campsite has a fantastic location, and you won’t easily camp closer to the beach.

Our final destination is Greyton. We meander through the Overberg to get there – first through Bredasdorp to Cape Agulhas, and then past Napier and Caledon. “I forgot how cute Greyton actually is,” Sam exclaims as we drive through the town in the afternoon. Sunbeams filter through the town’s numerous trees, here and there someone walks with a dog, and the restaurant patrons are having jolly good fun.

I think of Sam’s words again later, because I’d also forgotten how sweet our small towns are. And how beautiful it is to drive the roads on this route, how gorgeous it is when the Karoo gets rain, and how fun it is to discover new things in familiar places. Back in the Cape, on a fiercely hot summer day, I sit on the veranda with a G&T and long for all the views from my other apartment. The one on wheels