The Diamond Coast

A Bad Beginning
The passport clearance was much faster than in Namibia. We have visa-free relations with South Africa, so I was admitted within a few minutes. The border crossing is at the same time the gateway to the Richtersveld National Park, so I had to pay 10 Rands for entry. I inquired about the route from the lady who sold me the ticket and she claimed that the road was straight and good. I'd had different information previously, unfortunately correct. The road was miserable, a lot of sand and gravel, almost continuous corrugations. The persistently rising sections alternated with short, steep descents and climbs. I had to apply the brakes downhill, otherwise the bike would have disintegrated on the corrugations, or I would have found my nose buried in the sand drifts. Uphill, I strived hard to avoid having to shamelessly push the bike. In addition, there was a strong headwind and in some areas also huge trucks carrying excavated earth from the mines in the vicinity. At least there was something to look at in the National Park, but then the quite boring landscape started. It was clear to me that I would not make the 100 km to Alexander Bay that night, more so due to the delay I'd experienced in waiting for the ferry.

[Richtersveld Transfrontier Park] Five Sisters

Illegal Diamonds
It is prohibited in South Africa to sell diamonds to anyone other than to the De Beers Consolidated Mining Company. This company mines diamonds not only underground, which cannot be overlooked due to the mountains of waste rock, but also from the seabed. However, independent divers who search for diamonds around Port Nolloth have plenty of opportunities to sell their catch on the black market. This activity is being punished, undercover Police agents are deployed and the penalties are high. In addition, there is a risk that the buyer will pay dearly for a slenter, a fake diamond faceted from crystal, which a layman is unable to spot.

[40 km south of Sendelingsdrift] The sign encourages informing on diamond thieves

The First Day in South Africa and Already a Crime is Encountered!
This is how Blesk would have titled it with a considerable amount of exaggeration. But first things first. The number of hours was increasing, the number of cycled kilometers was not, and so I started looking for a place to hole up for the night. Then I suddenly saw a turn-off to a campsite. Sure, I thought to myself, my good luck as usual! I arrived at the campsite, the gate was closed, but next to it was a large hole in the fence. So I went to the office. Nobody was there, even though the outside light was on, even though it was still bright daylight. A little further away, I saw the toilet block, so I returned for a towel and went to find someone. The camp was large, apparently neglected, and deserted. Cold water in the showers, so at least I took a shower. It helped me a great deal. I originally wanted to bring the bike into the camp through the hole in the fence, pitch a tent and wait for the owner, but then I dismissed the idea.

Meanwhile a car with three guys arrived who also wanted to stay in the camp. They gave up and left on a dirt road down to a campsite out somewhere by the river. Nearby was a dense grove to which I moved. I relished the way in which I had solved it. I was clean and nobody knew about me. The forest was pleasant, there was a five-centimeter layer of needles, so I felt as if I was lying on a mattress. Suddenly a young man, aged about 20 appeared, saying that they had seen me from his grandmother’s farm cycling down the road, but not back. The camp was really closed, but they did not mind if I wanted to sleep in the woods. Only the conversation dragged, he did not know much English and spoke Afrikaans. And I, for a change, could barely understand this foreign language.

I was only afraid not to set the needles on fire. Therefore I dug out a circle of half a meter in diameter down to the sand and used the cooker in the hole. In the morning, I covered the hole with needles again and it looked as if I had never been there.

[Brandkaros] My bed on a layer of pine needles

No Beer or WiFi
In the morning I bounced for 30 km on the still terrible road and was glad that I had stopped cycling early the day before. The last 5 km were on tar, a great relief. Alexander Bay is managed by a mining corporation and permission is required to enter it. The guard at the entrance gave me a visitor’s card and I was to return it the following day. There is no camp, only a Guesthouse, where I stayed relatively cheaply. A sign informed me that WiFi was available, and it really was. Except that no one knew the password, and I was unable to connect to it even after 2 hours of searching. Only the Manager knew the password, but it was impossible to reach him on the phone. Total frustration! Besides, it was a Sunday, so I could not even buy a damn beer. There was not a single pub in the town and I felt as if I was in the 30s during the American Prohibition. There is nothing in the town, all the houses are uniform and thus almost all identical. But I would hardly have make the nearly 100 km to Port Nolloth in the afternoon in the raging South wind, so I had no choice but to stay over.

I don't want a Free Discount
The motto in the title was promoted by Grossman and Šimek. In the morning I tried to get out as quickly as possible while the headwind was still weak. I went to pay and it occurred to me to tell them that they should give me a discount because the sign advertised WiFi, but nobody knew the password. The Manager scowled at me and the calculator audibly clattered in his brain. “And I could not even have a beer, it was Sunday,” I added. The Manager lit up like a balloon and said, “Of course, we'll give you a discount.” And he was indeed generous, he deducted 50 Rands and so I paid the same price as to sleep in a tent in an expensive campsite.

Tedious and Laborious
The early departure did not help me, in a quarter of an hour the headwind had reached Patagonian intensity and did not calm down until the end of the day. The landscape was boring, desert, sometimes interrupted by the mine dumps of waste rock from the surrounding mines, whose shape resembled the few natural hills offered by the landscape. Added to this, a gale-force wind blew directly into my face. I put on my jacket and almost put on the windstopper gloves that had protected me in Patagonia. My cycling average was just over 12 kph and the boredom was wretched. In Port Nolloth there was a SPAR so I stocked up with mainly fruit and vegetables, some money also remaining for wine. As usual, many freeloaders and desperados loitered in front of the store, trying to squeeze some money out of me. One was really persistent and it seemed as if I would have to fight with him to let me go.

A father and son were locking their bikes in front of the store, so we chatted. I gave him my card and went to one campsite (they call it 'Caravan Park', like in the U.S., in Namibia they call it 'Camping'), which was in McDougall’s Bay 5 km away. The price of 148 Rands struck me as very excessive, but the owner explained that it was a short school vacation and that is why the prices were high. I asked how safe it was there and she replied: "65%". Good information, does it mean that every third visitor is robbed? Reputedly no, but I had to be careful, especially about the bike. I carefully chose a place overgrown with a hedgerow, locked the bike and pitched the tent so that it concealed the bike. The campsite was right on the beach, poorly fenced and so a number of dubious types were rummaging through the trash cans in the area. They came over to me twice, asking if I had something to eat. Then two cyclists who knew the area dropped by, a man and his wife, and we chatted. They said that if I was cold, I was to sleep at their place, they had rented an apartment. And they would send me tips by e-mail for good accommodation in the heart of Cape Town. Really nice people.

[Mc Dougall's Bay ] The house on the coast

[Mc Dougall's Bay ] Flamingo

To Kleinsee
Kleinsee was another campsite on the coast. The first 16 km was on tar, the rest on a very little used dirt road. The surrounding countryside was still the same, the sea could not be seen. The most fun I had was with tortoises fighting on the road. They were locked into each other’s shells and it resembled a Sumo match. First stretching, which was manifested by rising locked shells, then a sudden lunge forward several centimeters to the side, when one of the tortoises was victorious. This was not the end of the wrestling match, they repeated it over and over again.

[40 km north of Kleinsee] Tortoises wrestle in the road, oblivious to traffic rules

[40 km north of Kleinsee] Tortoise fight

Jobsworth in Kleinsee
Kleinsee is a mining town and the access is secured by a gate with security guards. And the security is really thorough. First they asked me what I wanted. I wanted to joke that I had learned that there were inexpensive diamonds for sale, but fortunately decided against it. So – “I am a tourist and am going to the campsite.” “You have to call them to confirm this to you.” “I have no phone, but I can stop there.” “You know the address?” “No, but you know it.” “Well, we'd better call them.” This conversation lasted for about 20 minutes, they in Afrikaans, I in English, total confusion. The owner of the camp had to come to confirm that I would be staying in a tent in his campsite. He told me where to go and for another 10 minutes I was filling out a complicated questionnaire, in which some of the items were not even clear to the guards.

[Kleinsee] Bathroom decor at the Caravan Park

I found the camp, the owner arrived, gave me the keys to the shower and toilet. He advised me not to pitch a tent, but to sleep in the shower building. However, I pitched the tent on the grass next to the showers. Otherwise, it was safe, I did not even have to lock the bike, nobody would steal it there. Unfortunately, there was no running water, something had happened to the pipe, so the owner brought me 3 liters of bottled water saying that in the morning it would definitely be mended. But I had four main objectives – to wash my clothes, to wash myself and to grease the bike, as well as to clean the stove. Without any water, it was a write-off. There was a big SPAR in the town, unfortunately permanently closed, so I could not buy more bottled water. I walked around all the taps in the camp and thus gathered about 1.5 liters of residual water. I went to explore the surroundings and found a large public swimming pool. I returned for a one-liter water bottle, planning to scoop water from the pool for the clothes washing. I returned to the swimming pool, once again tried the shower tap, and suddenly water came out of it. At that moment everything was fine, there was also running water in the camp and I could wash my clothes and clean the bike.

[Kleinsee] The mines are in the vicinity of the town

[Kleinsee] Standardized mining company houses

The clothes were not drying, I hung them inside for the night. Outdoors, the humidity was high and there was no wind. In the morning, the clothes were almost as wet as when I had taken them out of the water. It was clear that I had to at least dry something to be able to wear it and continue on my way. There was no iron in the kitchen, but I helped myself. I put the wire dish rack on top of the two-plate stove and dried individual items of clothing in that way. The stove had to be turned down to prevent the clothes from being scorched. It took me almost two hours before I could head off at 08:30.

[Kleinsee] Quick drying of clothes over double cooker

Climb to Springbok
I was to cycle uphill the 100 km to Springbok, which is the regional center of the Namaqua region of the Northern Cape Province. The first 68 km of dirt road was of an inconsistent quality but relatively flat. Then a 3-km relief on tar, after which a strenuous climb to the target 1,000 m above sea level started. It was getting quite late, the morning delay had affected me, and I had to pedal hard uphill without any chance of a rest. The final 3 km were crossing the steep mountain saddle and I really had had enough by then. The first sights I saw in Springbok were several liquor stores. I bought a beer and asked the guys in the store about accommodation. They advised me well, only WiFi was missing. I stayed for one night, everything was clean, the room was large, with a private bathroom, electric radiator, kettle, the bike fitted in without a problem. And all this for the excellent price of 150 Rands.

[30 km east of Kleinsee] The landscape, shaped by huge mine dumps

[35 km west of Springbok] View of the valley through which I passed from the Atlantic