New Delhi

Posted on March 22, 2013 by hilarylust

New Delhi. It was early morning and already sticky hot. I’ve heard stories of getting off planes in India and having a stench hit you in the face. I had braced myself for the Eau d’India but thankfully it never came. We were like moving corpses as we walked through Delhi International: and we had a whole day ahead of us.
I got to the baggage carousel and found both our bags right away (always a relief). Kelsi had to wait in line for a visa and came through about 20 minutes later with a scowl on her face.
Turns out whatever her travel agent had said about India visas was wrong. Kiwis are now only allowed a one entry, 30 day visa for US$60. They can also only get a maximum of 2 visas a year. This was a slight problem, as we are staying in India for 2 months. Luckily, we had a vague plan to fly down to Sri Lanka for a few days, and so I had applied for a double visa. Now it looks like Sri Lanka is a must stop over or Kelsi gets the boot by the beginning of April!
Surprisingly, we managed to find our way out of the airport, onto the metro, at at the Main Delhi station with only a few peoples’ guidance. Delhi’s downtown core was chaos! People, rickshaws, tuk-tuks, cars, stray dogs, cows: you name it, Delhi’s got it. Crossing the street was our main mission. Bags on, still half asleep, we followed close at the heels of some locals in an attempt to cross the main thoroughfare. It was only a four lane street, but somehow the city had made it into a chaotic mess of 7 or 8 lanes at once! When we crossed the street we felt like experts; we’ve got this! Go ahead Delhi, do your worst.
To get to the hostel we were trying to find we had to leave north from the metro station, then cross over top of the major train station, then enter the main bazaar and find the red mosque. Easier said than done. The directions weren’t difficult, but moving in a crowd with our life on our backs was not ideal.
The main bazaar was even wilder than I had expected from downtown Delhi. Merchants yelling, clothing shops spilling into the streets, food stalls with public urinals right behind them (we opted to avoid that food stall) and all the chaos of India wrapped up in a few squared blocks. It was like Bangkok’s Khaosan Road on steroids.
We eventually managed to push our way through the crowds and arrived at the Smyle Inn. Cheap, clean rooms for a couple dollars and it comes with a free breakfast! Sign me up.
When we checked in, all we wanted to do was go to sleep. We’d been up for over a day and we were both beyond exhausted. But sleeping now would screw up our pattern, and we had to do way too much organizing.
We had arrived in India with nothing planned. We have a booking for the Holi Festival in Mathura on the 25th and a flight home booked in May. That is all. I even only found out about the Smyle Inn off my hostel world app in the Dubai Airport. I love not having everything planned while I travel, but having a vague idea of what we should see is essential if you want to see anything at all. So for our first day, we needed to come up with a game plan.
First was money. The $20 worth of rupees that Cathy gave me was a lifesaver at the airport. It got us into town and saved us airport exchange rates and ATM fees. Right around the corner from our hostel was a CitiBank. Lonely Planet said that it should work with most foreign debit cards, except, apparently, mine. In fact, NO ATM’s will accept my debit card, because my “card is invalid, please contact your branch”. Great.
As we carried on, everyone in the street wanted to meet us. I knew that two blonde haired, blue-eyed girls were going to cause a stir in India, I just didn’t realize how much. We were the staring focal point of nearly everyone in the main bazaar (even all covered up in our layers of clothing).
“Where you from pretty ladies?”
“Hello. Namaste. Which country?”
“Namaste. What is your name?”
It was a little overwhelming on no sleep and I would have given anything to just crawl up in my bed back at the hotel. But we had to keep on trekking. We were on our way to Connaught Square, where the tourist information center was. Booking from there, you don’t have to pay commission (or as much) unlike at a hotel. We met one young guy in the street who pointed us in the right direction. His English was pretty good. “Where are you from?” He asked. “Canada and New Zealand” we said. “Oh, Canada. English or French part?”
“English. From Vancouver”
“Oh! I have a friend who lives in Delta. He says it very nice there”
Delta, wow, I’m skeptically impressed that he’d heard of Delta. Apparently the guy had spent a couple weeks in Montreal with his Canadian ex-girlfriend. He’s also been to New Zealand. He was now waiting for the arrival of his fiancé from Holland… Boy gets around the world for working at a jewelry stand (as we found out later).
Maybe it was because we were exhausted, or maybe it was just a gut feeling, but every person that spoke to us that day I thought was lying to us. We left world-traveling-lover-boy behind and walked towards Connaught Place. It wasn’t half a block down the road before we picked up our next cling-on as we tried to cross the road.
“Here, walk with me, I live here, I can help you cross the road safely! Which country you from?”
And it began again…
This guy said he just happened to be walking by the tourist office and he would show us the way. It’s a sad day when what seems like such a nice gesture is construed as some sort of a trick. Is he taking us to his friend’s travel shop? Does he get commission off picking up tourists and dropping them off?
God we needed sleep. All my senses were skewed and I was in a constant state of skepticism. Either way we ended up at the tourist office and cling-on two continued on. Maybe he was just being helpful.
We got into the office and was greeted by Samel: a young tour consultant in his thirties who knew EXACTLY where we needed to go.
We sat down just to ask a couple questions and instead of answering any of them, Samel drew out a map with a bunch of dots and started listing the cities we were going to visit in the next three weeks. Wait, what? We just wanted to get some information and find out how to book a bus or a train? Now this guy is asking us if we would like the deluxe, mid-range or budget tour.
Hours since last sleep: 30 something.
This was all too much. We liked the idea of not having to look up anything, but didn’t want to be on a tour. Samel was a smooth talking and straightforward salesman. “This is what you want to do. Trust me.”
I didn’t trust him, not at all, but not planning seemed like a great idea on no sleep. We told him we would go home and discuss it, then come back to him in a couple hours.
We left the building and ran into cling-on number 2 again. He’d been waiting around the corner.
“Did you get all the information you needed?”
I thought he was going somewhere…
We thanked him for taking us and carried on. We stopped at the markets on the way home to buy some clothing. Long, airy, baggy Indian pants and some scarves to cover our shoulders. The stuff was cheaply made, but only cost us a couple dollars so we were happy. New wardrobe: Check!
Finally, we dragged our feet back to the hotel, briefly having to stop to hear more about world-traveling-lover-boy’s fiancé one more time. Fantastic.
Back at the hotel we struggled to stay awake as we decided where WE wanted to go over the next few weeks.
When we arrived back at the tourist office with a plan we sat down at Samel’s desk again to ask some questions.
“We’re back!” We announced, only 2 hour after we had left.
He stared at us blankly.
“The Germans?”
“Uh, no, from Canada and New Zealand. We were just here a couple hours ago.”
“I have a lot of tourists in and out all the time here” he said unapologetically.
This guy sucks at his job. But we were not about to find another place when all the shops were closing so we continued on with our plan.
“These are the places we would like to go. Can we organize a driver to take us here?”
He looked at the list, slashing things here, and changing dates around. He didn’t take into consideration much of what we were saying, but in the end we found a nice compromise that left us with so many more things than we could ever see on our own. Everybody is happy.
“Would you like to go on a city tour now?”
Oh god, we still haven’t slept.
“No thank you, we are tired. We are going for dinner then to sleep.”
“No, no. It is included. Here, I will get someone to take you to dinner, it’s a great place. Then the driver will pick you up and you will go for a short tour.”
Before we knew it we were pushed out the door and taken around the corner by some young guy.
“Which country?” He asked
“Canada and New Zealand”
“Oh Canada, French or English?”
“English, from Vancouver”
“Oh, I have a friend that lives in Delta! He says it very nice.”
Hmmm, Delta eh? Pretty popular place with New Delhians!
The guy that brought us to the restaurant also ordered our food: a special Thali. Thali is a common all you can eat dish here in India. It comes in a big silver platter with separate compartments. It has several different dipping sauces or curries served with naan and rice. A great way to try a little bit of everything.
When dinner was over our driver grabbed us and sped out through the city. He took us to see the India Gate and some temple that was beautiful and right in the middle of the city. Unfortunately we couldn’t appreciate it through all our exhaustion. We were probably at 40 hours with no sleep and we could hardly stand. When we were finally dropped off at the hotel later I collapsed into bed and didn’t wake up for 12 hours… Kelsi for 14. It was quite the first day in Delhi!

The Last African Sunset

Posted on March 20, 2013 by hilarylust

During our second visit to Cape Town we had to cram in everything we’d missed while we were hungover the first time. Plus, we added everything that travelers had told us to see during our road trip. The list was a little extensive for one afternoon.
We dropped our bags at the hostel and drove off to city hall. Check! Photo! Moving on. From there, we drove along to the Castle of Good Hope. It was less exciting than we had expected, so we just did a photo bomb drive by and carried on. Afterwards, we drove through District Six to see the area where the slave trading and markets used to be. The neighborhood has cleaned up incredibly well; we couldn’t find a trace that the slave markets ever existed, and instead, a beautiful university sits in the middle of the district.
After that we tried to search out the slave museum. Unfortunately, it wasn’t on our map, and the parking attendant lady, albeit so very nice and helpful, didn’t understand what we were looking for. When we finally found it hours later by chance, the place was already closed.
And one of our final destinations was Woodstock markets. We’d been trying to track down these damn markets for over a week now, and we were determined to find them. Originally, Nick and Sandy had recommended them to us because they claimed to have “eaten the best food of their lives” there. That is a huge claim. We needed to find this place.
The first time we were in Cape Town we ended up at the wrong markets! We made it to the wrong waterfront and instead ran across a different, but wonderful, food market. This time we were determined.
We drive down towards the Woodstock district. Unfortunately, Woodstock was off the city map that we had and so we were driving blind. All we knew was that they were markets and they were near the water.
Woodstock seems like it would be a pretty dodgy area in the night time. Definitely not the idyllic center of Cape Town that we’d previously explored. We drove up and down the streets aimlessly in search of something that could be considered a market. Finally we gave in. Time to take the car back to the rental office before we got charged another day. We pulled over at the nearest petrol station to fill up. We figured we’d ask the attendant if he’d heard of Woodstock Markets.
“Of course!” He said, “they’re right there. About a half block down across the street!”
Seriously?! How lucky was that! So we booked it across the street and zipped in to the big building that held the markets about 25 minutes before they closed. Also lucky!
Inside we found a whole bunch of little shops that sold clothing, trinkets, food and wine. We walked into a specialty cheese and meat shop to look around.
When we asked about the market, the lady who owned the place explained that they only have a market on Saturdays. All the shops in the little square put together a kiosk and sell their things market style all day long. She says people are even waiting to get in before the gates open!
Sadly for us, it was Monday. So we instead bought a meat and cheese platter, a half bottle of wine and put together a picnic for ourselves for later. We checked out a couple more shops on our way out, then drove off to the airport to drop off the car.
When our bus arrived back in the city center it was nearing six o’clock. We immediately took a taxi up to Table Mountain where we could watch the sunset with our little picnic.
This time, we opted for the cable car. I was not about to hike the hour and a half up the mountain again after such a busy day. But, unlike the first time, we had a spectacular view of Cape Town. The sky was completely cloudless, and the setting sun made for some incredible photos. We ran around like giddy school kids, once again, taking a million photos of the view from every angle. When we’d nearly filled my camera’s memory with photos, we sat down to eat.
The package the lady had put together for us was wonderful, with fresh sourdough bread to go along with the meat and cheese and a salad with a balsamic vinegar on top. We sat on a little rock, way away from the crowds of tourists, sipping on our wine and eating our food. The perfect ending to a perfect trip. We could not have asked for anything more from Africa. From Kenya to South Africa we were blown away by the people and the beauty. This is definitely a place I will visit again.
As we sat on Table Mountain, watching our last African sunset, I felt as though my trip was ending and I was going home. But in reality, we were only half way there. Next stop: India…

Cape Agulhas and the Coast

Posted on March 16, 2013 by hilarylust

Our drive from Swellendam onwards was relaxing. We had nothing planned except to check out Cape Agulhas and drive the coastline to Hermanus.
We stopped at the Spar and picked up a picnic lunch: fresh fruit, some bread, cheese and salami. Then we grabbed a coffee and began driving South.
Cape Agulhas is the southern most point in Africa. It is also where the Atlantic and the Indian oceans meet. Our guide book said it was good luck to pee where the two oceans collide. It followed up with “good luck ladies”. To Kelsi and I, that sounded like a challenge. Well challenge accepted!
Driving down through Struisbaai and finally to Agulhas was beautiful. The sun was shining, there was hardly a cloud in the sky, and the waves breaking on the shore was just as spectacular as ever.
“Shut up! Do you see that?! It’s incredible! Look at that shore!”
It never got old for us. We were just as excited about the view as we were when we stumbled across Sea View point back near Port Elizabeth.
We found the point fairly easily. Had our obligatory photo with the sign that says “You are now at the Southernmost tip of the continent of Africa” and then hopped back in the car to find a quiet spot to ourselves.
Just a little ways into Agulhas National Park, we came across a section of beach with nothing around but an old, rusted shipwreck. We backed up to the shore and sat in the trunk of the car, looking out over the ocean. We cracked a now warm beer and enjoyed the view with some music. This was paradise.
“What do you think everyone else in the world is doing right now?” I asked.
“Whatever it is, it’s not nearly as amazing as this” we cheersed in agreement.
After a bit, we wandered down to the water to explore the shipwreck. It looked like an old, Japanese shipping boat that was cut in half. It was full of water, and too difficult to climb into, but it was a great backdrop to an already stunning view. We tried to find some oysters along the shore as well, but the tide had come in again and we were once again left in oyster-less disappointment.
When we’d tired of the view, we drove down a bit to a slightly different view to have lunch. We sat in the shade of the car and snacked while staring out at the two oceans. Before we knew it, we’d been at Cape Agulhas for four hours. How did that happen?
Before we left we had to complete our mission and pee in the water. It was more difficult than I had thought with huge waves and rocks to maneuver through. These are the times I wish I was a boy. But determined as we were, we completed our goal and jumped back in the car to find Hermanus.
Our drive to Hermanus was entirely down unpaved, dirt roads. The map showed that there was only two turn offs that we could possibly take. No issue with getting lost!
In reality, there were endless numbers of turnoffs. Oh no. We used our gut feeling to find the way, but with such few directional points on our huge map we finally admitted defeat and pulled over for directions.
We stopped at some farm that had banners and tents all set up at it. There was a guy standing next to the road texting on his phone, so we pulled over to see if we were on the right track.
Turns out he wasn’t from around the area, but he could ask someone who knew. He jumped in the car and we drove him down the long driveway towards the throngs of tents and people at the end.
“What’s going on here?” We asked
“It’s a biking festival.” He said “we’ve been going throughout South Africa for days now. I follow the group and do the music for the festival”
Of course Kelsi and I would stumble across the only thing going on in the middle of absolutely nowhere. We ended up getting directions from a local guy. Turns out we were on the right track and just had to keep going south until we hit the water again. Perfect!
We thanked them both and kept driving south. Before long we hit a place called Die Dam. It wasn’t even on the map, and yet we’d been seeing signs for it for the past half hour or so. We felt the need to stop.
It was a beautiful little beach that looked like a popular family camping spot for locals. As usual, we were taken aback with the beauty of the coast, took some photos and carried on. Our next stop was a place called Pearly Beach. More photos, more jaw-dropping scenery and then off to Hermanus.
As we drove North away from Gansbaai, we could see some beautiful cliffs to the West.
“Look how beautiful those are!” We exclaimed excitedly. “I hope that’s were we’re headed!”
Turns out it was…

The Long Road to Swellendam

Posted on March 16, 2013 by hilarylust

When the Cango Caves tour had finished, we grabbed a coffee and hit the road. It was still fairly early in the afternoon, but we had a lot of ground to cover. We took a different road back from Outdshoorn to the N2 and drove through Robinson Pass. It amazes me how each road can be more beautiful than the next. Robinson pass was incredible with its dramatic green cliffs and windy roads. We had just enough time to admire the view, and then before we knew it we were at Mossel Bay. Lunch time!
We wanted to find a local place for some cheap, good food. We were looking for some run down joint that was the gem for all the locals to eat at. We drove through the town, a little indecisive about where to go, then decided to head down to the docks to see what we could find.
As soon as we hit the docks we knew where we were eating. It was a shabby looking place from the outside, with bamboo walls and half a thatched roof. There was smoke coming out from the middle of the place and it sat right out on the edge of the water, in among industrial fishing boats and a parking lot full of trucks. A big sign on top read Kaai 4.
“That’s our place!”
We parked the car and walked towards it. As we walked in, we were greeted by the owner, Sean. He was a wonderful man, with an eye patch, a bucket hat and a great sense of humour. He walked around the dirt floor of the restaurant barefoot, meeting and chatting with all the patrons.
“Well hello ladies! How are we this afternoon? Where are you from? Welcome to the only remaining traditional Afrikaans Braai restaurant in town! May I ask how you found the place?”
“We were just driving by and it looked like a great place to eat.” We said.
He laughed “That’s amazing! You just stumbled upon this place?!”
Turns out, Kaai 4 is also the number one most recommended spot to eat in Mossel Bay by the Lonely Planet guide. Well done us, what a find!
Sean gave us a list of his favourite recommendations:
“I don’t much care for vegetables to be honest. But I do have some amazing meat and seafood dishes! My favourites are the mussel pot and the Meat basket. The mussel pot is made to order and everything is cooked over there on that fire. Traditional Braai style!” He stood there beaming at us. He was obviously so proud of his little restaurant, and his enthusiastic attitude was contagious. On top of that, the food was cheap. Probably the cheapest we had seen in South Africa for what you were ordering. We decided to go for both his suggestions and share. Then we sat down along the water and had a cold beer.
When the food came out, we were not disappointed. The portions were huge, and everything looked so delicious. Mussels cooked in a creamy sauce and served with rice, or the South African starch equivalent (the name of it has escaped me). Then there were ribs, and chicken and sausages, each served with homemade bread. Oh wow. What a feast!
We ate and ate and ate until we couldn’t move. Then we used the bread to soak up the leftovers. It was the best meal I have had in the country, hands down.
Sean wandered over to check on us a couple times, and we couldn’t stop raving about the meal. Of all the places we could have stopped at in Mossel Bay, I am so happy that this is where we ended up. If you ever find yourself in Mossel Bay and you DON’T stop at Kaai 4, then you are insane… Unless of course you’re a vegetarian.
When we’d stuffed ourselves as much as we could, we thanked Sean and his wife and carried on.
We started back on the N2, with our next scheduled stop as Swellendam. A little ways down the highway, however, I changed our plans.
“Look Kelsi, there’s this place down by the coast called Witsand. The book here says that there are over 150 whales in the bay every day, and when you’ve had enough of whale watching, you can fill yourself a bucket of oysters from the beach!”
“Oh my god, let’s go”
So we turned off the highway and drove the 35 kilometers South to Witsand. The place was spectacular!
We pulled up at the beach and the view was so pretty that I couldn’t stop talking.
“Oh my god Kelsi, do you see this place! It’s beautiful! Look over there. Oh! And those fishermen there! Do you see any whales? I wonder where we can find some oysters. Ah! Look at this place! Kelsi! Are you going to say ANYTHING?!”
She was laughing at my giddiness. Maybe everyone is right, Canadians do talk a lot. We wandered around the rocky shores, then climbed some nearby sand dunes as the sun was going down. We never saw any whales. Had I read a little further, we would have found out that whale season is over right now. Also, the tide was in, so oyster picking was out. But the place was beautiful.
We climbed up and down the sand dunes with some local kids, and I laughed until my stomach hurt at Kelsi’s limp. In the sand, she looked like either Igor, Quasimodo or Gollum. I kept poking fun at her “yes master, this way master, follow me” until we couldn’t contain ourselves any more.
“If I could move” she said “I’d come over there and slap you!”
We decided to head back to the highway before the sun completely set, so we hopped back in the car and drove onwards.
However, we still had our “no road twice” rule, and so I found us a different route back to the N2. This route was back road gravel streets that went through farmland and vineyards. The place was beautiful in the setting sun with the long stretches of slightly curving hills in the background.
Since day one, I’d been on a mission to get the perfect photo of a single tree in the red, African sunset. It still hadn’t happened. We tried to find one along this route, but none of them worked with my idyllic image. Then we came across a couple of ostriches, roaming in a field.
“Ostrich in the sunset photo!” We both yelled.
Kelsi pulled over and I jumped out to take the photo. Screw the tree in the sunset, this picture was incredible.
We laughed the rest of the way to Swellendam about the silly ostrich-sunset photo. It was more than I had ever expected!
Our directions to the only Swellendam hostel listed in the book were atrocious. We circled the deserted streets, in the dark, until finally stumbling across the street by chance. We checked in, had a lovely supermarket dinner of cheese and crackers and called it a night. We’d covered a lot of miles over the day, and had more exciting things to see in the morning. Oh how I was going to miss South Africa in a few days…

Cango Caves

Posted on March 16, 2013 by hilarylust

Just 15 minutes up the road from the ostrich farm are the Cango Caves. We made it, once again, just in time for the tour to begin. Don’t know how we keep lucking out that way.
There are two types of tours at the caves. One, is the normal walking tour, and the other is the adventure tour. The difference is, on the adventure tour, you are taken to the end of the caves and then you get to crawl, shimmy, and squeeze your way through a labyrinth of tunnels to get back. Although normally this would have been the chosen tour for Kelsi and I, we had a limited time schedule, and with Kelsi’s busted knee, we were not about to crawl through any cave tunnels.
Either way, the caves were incredible. The first cavern that you enter is huge. It has stalactites and stalagmites, such as Cleopatra’s Needle, or the Giant Organ Pipes, that date back to 650 and 800 thousand years ago respectively. They are massive! Apparently the Cango caves holds the records for larges stalactite formations on earth. Very impressive.
In the first cavern, they used to set up full orchestras to play inside. The music would echo throughout the cave and the audience could either sit, or wander around, hearing the music from different areas. Unfortunately, the orchestra music had to be cancelled in the 90’s. Too many people were exploring the back caverns of the cave and vandalizing the area. They pulled off stalactites that were thousands of years old, and etched their names into walls. It’s sad when just a few people ruin something for so many others. I imagine the orchestras must have been incredible!
From there we continued on to the second cavern. There we came across the petrified weeping willow tree which was the oldest formation in the cave at 1.5million years old.
We continued deeper into 10 different rooms, until finally our tour came to an end. Each room had something amazing to see, and some sort of story behind it.
All in all, the tour was an hour and we were glad to have done it. We weren’t even sure that morning if we could fit in the caves and still drive all the way to Swellendam by evening. But the stop was worth it!

The Ostrich Farm

Posted on March 15, 2013 by hilarylust

When I heard that it was possible to ride an ostrich in Oudtshoorn I was ecstatic! I have always wanted to ride an ostrich; even before I knew it was a real thing. It just sounded like so much fun! Then a couple years ago I found out it WAS actually possible. People DO ride ostriches (Not to get from one town to another of course, but that’s not the point). In fact, people actually RACE ostriches! Oh my god, too much for my little brain to handle.
So we drove up from Wilderness, to a place called Cango Ostrich Farm just in time for a tour to begin! I was beside myself with excitement.
First, we were inundated with ostrich fun facts. An ostrich has 3 eyelids, and 19 neck vertebrae (which allows it to move its neck in so many different directions at once it’s freaky). One ostrich egg is the equivalent of 24 chicken eggs! It could comfortably feed a family of 12; that is insane (Not to mention, they are incredible strong, later on in the tour we got to stand on one and it never cracked). As well, ostriches only have 2 toes and one toenail on each foot. That one toenail, however, is 10 centimeters long and razor sharp. It could rip a mans chest wide open if it got the chance to. That, combined with an ostriches 75 kilometer an hour speed and its ability to kick 1.8 meters in the air, makes the ostrich a bird you don’t want to mess with.
Our first ostrich encounter was with a bird called Dusty. Dusty is a fluffy, feathery little bird that probably could be mistaken as a feather duster… She is also a dwarf. At a full grown size, she still barely came up to my waist. But she was adorable. We got to feed dusty some grains as our guide explained about the different birds we were going to see.
After dusty came Betsy. Betsy is 7 years old, and the only friendly ostrich on the farm. Apparently, you can’t tame ostriches. And usually, they are mean. Betsy was the only bird that, on her own, decided to like people from a young age. Ever since then, she loves to hang around, give kisses, and neck hugs. No one knows why Betsy decided to be friendly, but she sure is an attraction for the tourists!
“Who wants a kiss from Betsy?” The guide asked.
Everyone hesitated. Betsy was still pretty large for a 7 year old, and after the ‘ostriches are naturally mean’ speech we were all uneasy.
“I will!” Kelsi stepped up to the plate.
“Very good!” Said the guide.”Alright, put this pellet in between your lips. Okay now, I must warn you, you are doing this at your own risk. Sometimes she misses and nips at your face. Sometimes you get a bleeding lip or something, but nothing serious, okay?”
Oh great, well now it doesn’t sound like such a great idea. But Kelsi did it anyways. The ostrich saw the pellet, and with one, extremely swift movement, lunged towards Kelsi’s face and plucked the food from between her lips. The ostrich did peck at her lips, but no blood was spilled so it was okay.
I tried soon after and the same thing happened. A quick snap, a semi-sore lip and the food was gone! Both our lips tingled for a while afterwards, but not many people can say they kissed a bird bigger than themselves!
We were shown a few more ostrich tricks, then off to the races… The ostrich races that is. We all sat down on some bleachers and watched over a large pen full of ready to ride ostriches.
“Who would like to ride one of our ostriches?”
Everyone was quiet, not sure exactly if they wanted to it not.
“I do!” I jumped up with an excited smile on my face.
“Okay! Perfect.”
So the two ostrich wranglers went out to hook me y very own ostrich while Shane, our guide, straightened out some ostrich myths. Apparently, ostriches don’t hide their head in the ground when they’re scared. However, when their head is covered, they do have the ‘I can’t see you, so you can’t see me’ mentality. So when the men caught me an ostrich, they slipped a bag over its head and the bird calmed down immediately.
Then they marched him over to a wooden stand, and helped me on it.
It was a weird feeling, sitting on a bird with all my weight. I had to tuck my legs under its wings and wrap my legs tight around its belly. Then I had to push myself back to the birds rear end, hold on to the wings and lean backwards for balance. It was so awkward..
“Ready?” Asked Shane
“I guess so!” I said, kind of scared about what was about to happen.
“Okay. Go!”
The men pulled the bag off the ostriches head an pulled him out of the wooden stand. That’s when the bird realized I was on his back and started to run. The men ran with me, shouting and hollering at the bird. I’m pretty sure I was screaming at first, then just trying to hold on for dear life afterwards. Oh my god, I’m on an ostrich!
The bird came zooming around a bend when it reached the edge of the pen, then ran straight along to the other side. I thought for sure I was going to fall off the thing when the two men grabbed me under the arms
“Let go! Let go!” They yelled.
So I let go, just as the ostrich ran into a group of other ostriches. I fell backwards into the arms of the two wranglers and safely hit the ground with my feet. Ha! I rode an ostrich!
The entire ride only lasted about 12 seconds, but it was amazing, and hilarious!
Kelsi managed to get a video, and it’s one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever seen. For the rest of the afternoon I was beaming.
“Hey Kelsi, guess what I did today?”
“What?” She asked
“Rode an ostrich!!” Then we’d high-five.
Later I was in the car, “I think I burnt my face today Kels.” I mentioned.
“No, it’s probably just wind burn from how FAST you were going on that ostrich!” She said. Then we laughed for a solid five minutes about how stupid I looked on that bird.
For the rest of the afternoon I kept finding little ostrich feathers in my pants. And every time I picked one out I laughed. Another bucket list dream checked off the list!

Riders on the Storm

Posted on March 14, 2013 by hilarylust

The morning we checked out of Jeffrey’s Bay, we had horse trekking planned. Papesfontein horse trekking is the only place in the country where you can let loose with horses and gallop for kilometers down the beach in the surf. This sounded incredible, so we signed ourselves up.
As we drove away from the hostel, the clouds began to roll in. It sprinkled a bit, then cleared up again as we neared the ranch. This didn’t look good.
When we arrived at the farmhouse, there were only four of us signed up to ride: Kelsi and I, and a couple who had never been on horses before, ever.
The lady who owned the place was lovely. She said, because we were more experiences riders, that we could pretty much do our own thing.
“When you hit the sand dunes just split off from the group and do what you’d like. The horses know their way home, it won’t be a problem, and the weather should hold out, you may get sprinkled on a little on the route home, but that’s half the fun!” she gave us some faster horses and said that if we wanted a real thrill we could switch our horses with the guide’s. That was her horse; a real racehorse. “If it’s adrenaline you’re looking for, that horse will give it to you” then she sent us on our way.
We walked through the first part of the trip: Kelsi was on Bubbles and I had Patches. It was a lovely, rolling hills area that we trekked through. The South African couple that joined us were very nice, and were quickly getting comfortable with the feel of their horses. The four of us and our one guide strolled for about an hour along the dirt paths before we hit the sand dunes.
The sand dunes separated the grassy, forested hill area from the beach. From the top, you could see forever, (or at least all the way to J-Bay) it was beautiful. This was obviously the turning point towards home, because the horses started to prick up and get ready to run.
“Can we run a little?” We asked the guide.
“Sure” he said.
But our horses were nervous about stepping out of line from the guides horse at first. They wouldn’t run without the lead horse in front. So instead, we all picked up our pace to a canter together until we hit the beach.
The new couple was hanging in there and didn’t mind the fast pace. But Kelsi and I were ready to go faster, and with an endless expanse of white beach and surf line ahead of us, we pulled away from the group and started at a gallop.
We’d only been running for about a minute when our guide came bolting past us on his horse. Oh my god was that horse fast. I thought we were going fast, and he passed us as if we were standing still, sand spraying up behind the horses feet. The guide looked back at us with a concerned face, but we couldn’t tell why.
“Catch it!!! Catch it!!” He yelled at us.
Catch what? We thought.
Then I turned my head to the right and saw a riderless horse run up along side me. I pulled my horse to the right and reached out to the horse next to me, still at a full run. It took a minute, but I finally caught ahold of the reins.
Now I had two horses, who didn’t particularly like being next to each other, running at a full gallop, with me hanging in between the two of them. Okay, so it wasn’t a full gallop. In reality we were probably close to standing still, but it was so exciting I thought I was still galloping. I managed to get the escapee horse under control, before my horse swung around and I lost hold of the second horse.
By this time the guide was back and was able to grab him. Kelsi swung her horse around and we all started back to the other couple.
The lady had apparently fallen off when her horse took off after ours, but she was fine, having landed in the sand, and was brave enough to “get back on that horse,” literally.
When everyone seemed okay, Kelsi and I took off again at our own pace. The horses seemed to know the way, and we were ready to go! I’ve ridden horses a lot in my life, but something about riding along the beach in the surf was really amazing. Just open space to run and see and move. It was beautiful… Except for the ominous black clouds looming ahead of us. We both put our rain jackets on in anticipation, and it started to rain soon after.
It just sprinkled at first, which was nice and refreshing during a running part. Then the wind picked up and it started teeming down. Gale force winds is what we were apparently in (as we found out later) and they were not fun. The rain stung our faces and burned our eyes. Wearing sunglasses helped for a minute, then they fogged up so much that you couldn’t see a thing. We looked back to see our guide half way between us and the older couple way off in the distance. He must have had a hell of a time keeping track of the four of us in the weather.
As we turned away from the water and into the dunes again, another guide came up to us. He had been sent to find us in the storm. He directed our horses at a trot back through the trees.
We came over one sand dune and down over a short rocky area. The wind was still howling and we were both soaked to the bone. Kelsi’s horse was ahead of mine and trotted swiftly over the rocky ground. Then, to the right of the horse, a long black log lay on the ground. The horse obviously saw it too late, then got spooked and jumped to the right and then back to the left in quick succession. Kels counteracted the horse’s first skitter, then lost her balance on the second turn and, in slow motion, spun off the horse and hit the ground. Her knee smashed into a large rock, and she went down on her elbow as well. My horse jumped to the right out of her way, then I pulled it up to a stop to see how Kelsi was.
“Kelsi! Are you okay?”
She was silent. Sitting up in a crooked position with one knee twisted under her against a rock.
“Kels?”
Still silent. I know Kelsi is in pain when she’s silent. I don’t know anyone in the world with such a high pain tolerance. She doesn’t complain ever about being in pain, and even if she is aching all over, she’s usually still laughing. So silence was NOT a good thing.
She was wincing in silence and biting her bottom lip. The guide pulled his horse around to come see if she was ok. I tried to think of anything in the world that would help.
“Do you want me to come down and help you?” I asked “I could give you a hug, I can help you get up! Oh my god, I feel your pain right now. I’m coming down to help you” I just blabbered on and on trying to think of something to do or say to make it better. Then I tried to get off my horse. Unfortunately, after a month of gaining weight traveling, and being soaking wet from the rain, my skinny jeans weren’t moving, ANYWHERE. I was totally stuck in my saddle.
“Sorry baby! I can’t get down! I’m too fat for my pants and now I can’t move! You’re on your own.”
Kels cracked a teary-eyed smile and then struggled to her foot. Her one leg was not in any shape to touch the ground, and to be honest, I have no idea how she crawled back on that horse. We were only ten minutes to home, so close! We half trotted and half walked the way home. Every bumpy movement meant agonizing pain for Kelsi’s knee. However, by the time we reached camp we were both in good spirits and laughing again. Despite the storm.
The owner gave us some towels and we changed into fresh clothes. Then we thanked her for an unforgettable ride and hit the road. Our busy road trip couldn’t be put on hold any longer. We were off to the Garden Route!

Jeffrey’s Bay

Posted on March 14, 2013 by hilarylust

We had heard great things about Jeffrey’s Bay. A surfers town on the southern coast with a fun backpacker vibe: what more could you want? When we drove through, we knew we were hooked. The place was larger than I had imagined, but had a very laid back, friendly feel to it.
We pulled up at a hostel called Island Vibes at the far end of town. It was paradise. The hostel sat on a small hilltop, right on the beach. It looked across the entire bay, with its white beaches and perfect surfing breakers. The hostel was cheap, clean, had an incredible bar and such wonderful staff. We had a very tight schedule for the next week. Too many things to see to get stuck in one place; but after we saw Jeffrey’s Bay, we pushed back our itinerary and signed up for 2 nights.
Our first afternoon we spent shopping. The town of J-Bay has some incredible deals on surfer ware. Billabong, Rip Curl, Quicksilver and a few local brands all have their outlet stores at one end of town. We spent a couple hours walking the streets, trying to find some cute beach ware.
Afterwards we stopped at a little Sushi joint for some lunch. The place had long wooden picnic tables and was mostly outside. Just the laid back kind of place we love to eat at. That’s where we met Dean, our server. He and his buddy Ash were two South Africans that fell in love with J-Bay’s lifestyle and decided to stay. They work til 3, then surf and dive and party until bed, then get up and do it all again. Dean was keen to give us all sorts of local places to see: the waterfalls, the horseback riding, the places to party, he knew it all. Meeting Dean was just the beginning of our experiences with South Africans. The further along we got with our road trip, the friendlier people were. Just when we thought we’d found the nicest person in the country, the next person would surprise us by being even more helpful.
When we’d gotten some ideas on things to see, we wandered back to the hostel to relax. It was hard not to fit in relaxing in such a laid back town. The view was spectacular, the hostel offered all sorts of comfy couches to lounge on, and after a long drive, it was exactly what we needed.
Sooner than we wished, the bartender from the lower bar found us. “What are you girls doing?! Come down and have a drink with me! It’s lonely down there, come hang out at the bar.”
Oh okay, if we have to.
When we arrived the lower bar was full of just staff members. Michael Jackson (as he liked to be called) was the bartender who had dragged us downstairs. He was a hilarious guy from Malawi who spent most of the night howling with laughter about something. Then there was Ben, the organizer of daily activities for the hostel, and Richard, the upstairs bartender who was trying to fit in as many drinks as he could before his shift started. We had a great time telling stories and sipping on Windhoeks until more people finally started to join in the party.
At one point Michael Jackson got distracted by some friends, so I got behind the bar to pour drinks for everyone. I held my own behind the bar until the cooler full of beer ran out. Apparently the guys thought I did an okay job, because they asked Kelsi and I to come work for them full time. Turns out they need some female bartenders around the place. It was a tempting offer, but with a flight to India in a week, we had to politely decline.
When the beers were completely gone, we shut down the lower bar and moved everyone upstairs to the main bar. From there we spent the night meeting all the different travelers. Dean and Ash even showed up for a while to have some drinks with us before heading to a party in town. Even for a Tuesday, the hostel was pretty full of people looking to have fun.
This time it was my turn to head to bed early while Kelsi partied on into the night. And in the morning, we once again wanted to do nothing…
Unfortunately, there were too many things to see and do, so we dragged our asses out of the hostel and went to see the waterfalls.
The waterfalls were about 20 minutes or so away from our hostel. They were on a local property, just outside of town. All you had to do was pay a dollar or two to enter on to their property then it was yours for the day!
We were given excellent directions to the property. We found it, no problem whatsoever. The issue, we realized quickly, was getting from the main house, to the waterfalls. There were about 20 different routes you could take once you drove through the back yard. Dirt and gravel roads headed out in all directions: great, what now.
We followed the paths that looked the most worn, and tried our best not to bottom out our little car on the way. Finally the road just stopped. So we got out, walked to the edge of the cliff, and looked over into the gully. At the bottom, there was a little blue-green pond with a flying fox running over it. The place was gorgeous; it had some rocks to climb on, and both small and large cliffs to jump off. And as a bonus: no one was there!
Kelsi and I grabbed our things and climbed down into the gully. What a spot! We lay out on the rocks with some music and soaked up the sun. Then it was swimming time. I climbed down the rocks to see how deep the pool was, and Kelsi swung off the flying fox. We swam around for a while, then tried to climb up the rocks on the far side of the pool.
The rocks were fairly flat, but they were covered with moss and were extremely slippery. Every time we started to climb out we would slip back into the water with a splash. This started to become so funny to us that eventually we couldn’t climb out at all we were laughing so hard. We looked like two seals trying to wriggle our way up on the shore. Finally Kelsi tried a new move.
“I’m going to salmon up!” She announced.
So she wriggled her body upwards, with no arms, while I tried the same. It didn’t work. But we were killing ourselves laughing as we were half stuck up on the rocks.
“Oh my god, I wish someone could see us right now” I said.
Kelsi paused, “They can” she said.
“What?!” I looked back and upwards at the top of the cliff. Sam, an Aussie guy that we had met the night before was shaking his head and staring down at us.
“Of all the people in the world” he said “of course it would be you two I find down here”
How embarrassing. We all just laughed, as he, his brother, and a random family all came down into the gully to join us. We had a wonderful afternoon swimming and hanging out with everyone, then finally Kelsi and I decided to head back into town.
We sat on the beach watching the waves for a while, then to a restaurant called Nina’s where we stuffed our faces with nearly every seafood item on the menu.
We had a quiet evening back at the hostel. We watched the sun set over the beach, and called it a night early. Jeffrey’s bay was an incredible place to relax for a couple days along our otherwise busy road trip. The next day we were up early for more activities and another day on the road!

Port Elizabeth

Posted on March 13, 2013 by hilarylust

We woke up in Summerstrand to a beautiful sunny morning. The little beach town we had found in darkness was absolutely stunning during the day. Everything is situated right along the water on one long street called Beachfront. On the other side of the road is stretches of white sand beaches, lots of surfers, boardwalks and blue ocean.
We drove in to Port Elizabeth hoping to see some sights before continuing onwards to Jeffrey’s Bay. Now, perhaps it was the area we found, or the fact that we had gone from beach town to busy city immediately, but Port Elizabeth was not our style. Right away we could see why people had told us not to go there at night. The city was sketchy enough in the light of day! Lots of back alleys and one way streets to get lost in, and without a city map we were definitely lost. We tried to search out the city’s lighthouse, which was apparently the touristic feature of the area. After driving in circles for over a half hour, we finally stumbled across it just as we were giving up. It was on top of a hill, and nowhere NEAR the water. Seemed like an odd location for a lighthouse. The thing was very cute, with tiled mosaic artwork next to it, and a little park to relax in. The building had a little cafe in it as well, and the barista made us lattes as we climbed the tower to the viewpoint.
The light house was tight to climb. Steep stairs at first, then ladders after that. The place just kept going and going and going! When we finally reached the top, it was very windy. You could see a whole 360 degree view, but it wasn’t stunning to look at. The ships in the harbor, the downtown core, then off to the right you could spot the beginnings of Summerstrand. We decided we preferred beach towns to big cities, so we climbed back down, grabbed our lattes and drove back to Summerstrand for breakfast.
We bought some smoked salmon, cream cheese and a baguette from the Spar and walked down to the beach for a little picnic. Apart from a few surfers, the beach was deserted! Just beautiful, warm beaches with no one on them! It was incredible.
We walked around the boardwalk for a bit, checking out the piers and taking photos of the town, then we packed up and hit the road again. We drove along the water to a place called Sea View and that’s where the beauty of South Africa began to hit us. Bright turquoise water with white caps and rocky shores that were stunning. This was the beginning of what the rest of the South African coastline looked like and we were hooked. Every time Kels and I spotted the water one of us would yell “shut up! Shut up!! Do you SEE that?! Oh my god!” Without fail, for the next 8 days. What we didn’t know, was that sea view was just a little, tiny bit of this. So we continued onwards to Jeffrey’s bay, with lots more spectacular sea views to come.

Roadtrippin’

Posted on March 13, 2013 by hilarylust

We had a huge day ahead of us. We were driving from Cape Town to Port Elizabeth in one day, then slowly working our way back along the coast throughout the next week. For normal people, this isn’t that crazy of a trek, for Kelsi and I, a normal 8 hour drive turned into a 13 hour adventure through back highways and wine country. We had no exact plans, no city maps, and no directions. We just bought a big road map of South Africa and hoped for the best. (For anyone else thinking of doing this, maybe plan a little bit better than us).
Our alarm went off at 6am and we were out the door by 6:45 with all our things. Because we had left our car rental until so late, the only available cars were located at the airport. Which meant, we had to lug our backpacks the 20 minute walk to the bus station, then the half hour bus ride to the airport just to rent a car. We had found a pretty incredible deal through Europcar that worked itself out to $25/day with unlimited kilometers on it and full insurance. Both of which were very important; we had a lot of driving ahead of us!
Kelsi drove. Our car was A. Manual and B. It drove on the wrong side of the road. I was not about to mess around with my limited knowledge of manual cars, trying to figure out which side of the road to turn in to and with the stick shift on the wrong side. I was much safer with the map. It didn’t matter how many turns or corners we took, I could NOT get used to driving on the left side of the road. But the driving was teamwork for sure: I read the map, and found the right highways for us to follow. I shifted gears while Kelsi needed a break to eat, and I helped with the four way stops. Yup, apparently New Zealand and Australia don’t HAVE four way stops. So when we came up to one, and Kelsi blew in front of another car out of turn, with me yelling from the passenger seat, it was quite a shock. From that point forward, it was my additional responsibility to help with four ways. Yes, we are disasters. How we made it through the week is beyond me.
Our goal was to avoid hitting any roads twice (or as much as was possible). So the usual, efficient, N2 route to Port Elizabeth was out of the question. Instead, we decided to head the more local R62 route from Montagu to Oudtshoorn and then follow it South East to Kruisfontein. This route also just happens to be the longest wine route on Earth. It is surprisingly very un-touristy (with more popular wine routes in the Stellenbosch area) and a quiet, scenic route to drive along.
So off we went, up to Bellville and Durbanville, then off route to Stellenbosch for breakfast. We opted for a healthy breakfast choice of burgers and fries. (It was the only cheap thing open early Monday morning in the sleepy university town). Then we headed back up through the mountain passes on our way to Worcester and the N9.
Wineries lined the highways. You couldn’t look one way or another without spotting an idyllic little vineyard. We were so excited to stop in at something along route 62. However, as soon as we hit route 62 and passed Montagu, the wineries stopped. What kind of a wine route was this?! We had over 200 kilometer of driving to find a winery and we couldn’t see ANY!
At first it didn’t matter. It was too early to try a tasting for us anyways, and we wanted to get moving after our off route stop in Stellenbosch for brekkie. But, by the time we saw signs for Oudtshoorn nearing, we were getting a little upset. “How is this a wine route?! Have you seen ANY wineries at all?”
Then all of a sudden we spotted a sign: Gruienheim.
“A winery!!! Look, look! Let’s go!! Turn in! A winery!” We were ecstatic.
We pulled off the main road into a gravel path. A couple turns and a few kilometers later, we pulled up outside a deserted vineyard.
“What do we do? Do we just go in?” All of a sudden we felt ridiculous. We parked the car and wandered around the front farm house. No one was in sight. “Maybe we should just go”
Nope! We’d driven the entire length of route 62 we were sure as hell going to stop at ONE winery.
“Hello?” We called out as we stuck our heads inside one of the buildings. Inside was a small room with a bar along one side. The bar was full of wine bottles and liqueurs. I think we found the tasting room.
We heard a lady talking on the phone in the next room over so we stuck our heads in. She looked up and stuck her finger up as if to say “silent!” I gave her a quick smile and went back to the tasting room to peek around. There we found a map of the riute 62 region with all the wineries on it. there were LOADS of them! at least 20 right on the route that we had just driven… apparently we are just visually impaired.
Soon after the lady on the phone came in “Yes? Can I help you?”
“We were hoping you’d have some wines here!”
“Yes, we do, here is the price list” she hands us a piece of paper and then walked behind the bar.
Okay.
Then all of a sudden a little old lady walked in the room and her face lit up when she saw Kelsi and I
“Oooooooh!!! My darlings! How are you?! Are you here for some wine tastings? Where are you from? Are you sisters?!” She was not much taller than five feet and barely stood above the bar on the other side. She was the most pleasant lady I’ve ever met, with a cute little South African accent and a passion for her vineyard. Her and her husband owned the vineyard and all their stuff was sold locally. She was adorable!
“If your looking for dry wines I’m sorry, we only do sweet things here, like ports and liqueurs.” Oh no, I am NOT a sweet wine person. How did we end up at the one winery that doesn’t make dry wine?
“Come to think of it” she said “no one in the area does dry wine here, just not the right place for it I’m afraid. But we do have some excellent ports! Do you like port?”
“Of course!” We lied. It’s not that I don’t enjoy port. It’s just not what I normally go for. But, when in Rome!
To admit, we did try some delicious ports! They were smooth and sweet and as long as you think of them as solely desert wines, then they are delicious. Afterwards we tried the liqueurs: milky ones, honey flavored, rose petal flavored, they were all excellent and unique! And when all was said and done, we couldn’t leave without buying a small pack of something. It would have broken my heart to say no to this little old lady who was telling us the whole history of each thing we tried.
“Where are you staying in Oudtshoorn?” She asked as we were leaving.
“Oh we’re not, we are driving to Port Elizabeth.”
“Port Elizabeth!!!” She exclaimed. The way she said it you would have thought we’d told her we were driving to the moon. “But it’s so FAR! You still have 5 hours at least of driving ahead of you, and it will be dark when you get there. Don’t do that my dears, just stay here in Oudtshoorn. It’ll be much nicer. Wait. Ill get the name of a lovely little place to stay. It’s a youth hostel, you will love it. I’ve heard so many great things about it! Hold on right here a moment. Marylin! Marylin! How do you get to that youth hostel again?”
We stood there dumbfounded, not quite sure what was happening. Then she rushed back in to the room.
“Okay. Here we go. From my front gate you take a right, then a left then a right again at the main road. When you hit Oudtshoorn you will hit one light, then another then another. Then you will turn left and you will be in the vicinity. Okay? So right, left, right, one, two, three, left again and you are in the vicinity!” All this was explained to us with rapid hand movements from the right to the left.
“Okay, say it with me now. Right, left, right, one, two, three, left and you are in the vicinity!” For the rest of my life I will remember these directions. She was so precise with her movements, practically bouncing up and down with excitement as she explained the directions to the VICINITY of our supposed hostel. She was so cute I wanted to put her in my pocket and bring her to Port Elizabeth. But she thought we were going to Oudtshoorn, so that was out of the question.
We said goodbye and thanked her for the directions as we left “remember now, left, right…” We could hear her shouting to us as we walked out.
“So, Port Elizabeth?” Kelsi said
“Yup”
It was so lovely for her to give us directions, but we had already lost a day and had way too much to see. So we continued down the highway on our mission to PE.
It was just as she had said, about 5 hours later we reached the outskirts of Port Elizabeth, and it was dark. Maybe we didn’t entirely think this through. Driving up into a city we don’t know, in South Africa, without a place to stay and without a city map. Only retrospectively was this a bad idea. At the time, everything seemed totally normal.
Luckily for us, while we were in Victoria Falls, I found a travel book for backpackers in my room. It was all about South Africa and the places to stay along the way. It didn’t have maps, but it had one or two suggestions of places to stay with the vaguest directions I’ve ever heard. But it was something. I dragged that book around for a month, and it was finally going to come in handy!
Unfortunately, with zero city maps, finding anything was difficult. We stopped at a gas station just out of town to ask for directions.
“How do we get to the city center of Port Elizabeth?” We asked the attendant
“What?! You can’t go into the city at night!” He said
“Well we have to stay there tonight, we need to go”
“Okay” he said reluctantly, and he gave us some basic directions.
I was reading the guide book as Kelsi rounded the last bend before hitting downtown.
“Wait a second, these directions look much easier” I said “we could stay in the neighboring town of Summerstrand, avoid driving around the city, and wake up on the beachfront! And there’s the turn! Go right!”
So we pulled a quick right, found Summerstrand and a lovely cheap hostel for the night. Even in the night you could see how gorgeous the coastline was going to be in the morning. It was worlds better than aimlessly wandering the city streets for a place to stay, and a great way to end our first long drive of the trip.