Saturday 9th April – Port Elizabeth Park
When telling people that I was going to Port Elizabeth for 3 nights, I was warned that there wasn’t much to do, and that I should reconsider. I ignored them, partly because it would mean I’d lose my deposit, but also because I was sure I could find things to do in a large, famous city. I was wrong.
Yesterday, after finding the cricket ground, I went off to explore the rest of PE. This didn’t take long. I wandered along the barren high street, to find not much, and I had a look in the park. After I had a read in the sun, I walked down to the other high street. This was busier, but there still wasn’t much going on. And that was Port Elizabeth.
While I’ve spent the past few nights going to out to nearby pubs or clubs, the fact that there aren’t any anywhere near my hostel means we spent the evening watching films back at base. We watched “Laws of Attraction”, “Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay” and “Envy”. Other than an offer of drugs (I declined) it was a pretty dull evening.
After waking up late (why bother getting up early?) I was asked by my roommates if I wanted to go out to the beach with them. You know when you just don’t want to go with certain people, but they’re insistent that you come. After racking my brains for convenient excuses, I just about blagged my way out of it, even though I did genuinely plan to go and do a bit of shopping at the mall. I may have taken up the offer to go to the beach, however, if it hadn’t been with my roommates. I genuinely don’t think I’ve met a pair of more dislikeable people in my life.
One is a 30-odd year old South African bloke who walks around topless, and keeps boasting about how many young girls he pulls. He evidently only goes backpacking just to see if he can find any new ones in the hostels, and preys on them there. He was also very controlling and manipulative of me, hoping to get me to come out to these weird clubs with him. I declined. My other roommate is just plain annoying. She looks like an ugly version of Nichole337 (for those asking whether that is possible – yes it is. I found the only other person in the world who is), but her looks pale into insignificance when you consider her personality. She is a German who lived in Birmingham, so she has developed the most grating accent I’ve ever heard. She has absolutely no self-awareness, and keeps telling me her most banal problems that I completely don’t care about. I’ve only known her one day, yet because I didn’t immediately tell her to f*ck off, she’s taken a shine to me, and rearranged her whole trip just so she can take the same Baz Bus journey as me. Great.
Anyway, instead of going to the beach with them, I took a walk to the big shopping centre which is about an hour away by foot. I bought some things, and then walked back. On the way back, I found a pub with a TV, and asked to put the Chelsea-Wigan game on. As the only one in the pub, that was fine, and the barwoman gave me the remote and told me to put on “whatever”. So I put on SS7, and watched the goalless first half.
While I’d watched the game pretty much on my own, one bloke had come in a few minutes before half time, and as soon as the whistle went, literally snatched the remote away from me, and put on the rugby. I was astonished by his lack of a) courtesy b) question c) explanation, and after politely enquiring as to why he was a massive bellend, I got the answer “rugby, mate”. After I questioned him further, he conveniently remembered he was Afrikaans and as such couldn’t speak English. Prick. So I got up and left.
I’m now in the park writing this, and am relying on texts from dad to keep my up to date with the score. I am struggling to find any redeeming features to PE at all, other than it having a “nice McDonalds”.
Thursday 14 April 2011
Friday 8th April - 1PM
Friday 8th April – St Georges Cricket Ground, Port Elizabeth
Wednesday night was a real night of contrast. To start, I was picked up by Bill from the Chelsea Supporters Club Knysna. Bill is a Londoner who’s supported Chelsea since the 50s, and has lived in South Africa for over 20 years. For all of the big games, he, along with other fans, met up at an Italian restaurant on the waterfront to watch the game.
After meeting the others, it turned out that Bill aside, there’s only one other actual Chelsea fan. The rest were made up by “football fans” who don’t have a set team, and one who was an Arsenal fan, but just liked the company. However, they were all supporting Chelsea, which is all that mattered.
The game itself wasn’t great, but I had a lovely pizza, and we all had an indignant moan about the poor decisions that Chelsea get in Europe.
After saying my goodbyes and being dropped back to the hostel by Bill, I changed out of my Chelsea shirt and into something els. Before going down to the Waterfront, a few of us at the hostel had arranged to go out and find what Knysna had to offer in terms of entertainment for an evening. They’d all been waiting for my return, so after I got back, we hit Knysna high street.
The first place we went to wasn’t the most glamorous place in the world. It was mainly filled by old men with no teeth, and we all had a right laugh at the mural of John Travolta peeking through some bushes that filled the whole wall of the toilets.
Bizarrely, some old bloke with grey wispy hair and an even wispier beard took our laughter as a sign of approval, and revealed that he was the painter. After telling him that his work was “certainly unique”, we soon drank up and left, and moved on to the next place.
It was a club called “Zanzibar”, and it was the first time I’ve ever been into a completely empty club. After taking the ironic photos of us filling the dancefloor, we moved on from there to, and to a club across the road called “Up”. The rest of the evening was spent in there, and a good time was had by all.
Here are some brief notes about the evening:
• People kept shouting “Holland! Holland!” at me, because I was wearing an orange shirt.
• Some South African asked me if I was English, which I confirmed, to which he exclaimed “Oh, Nasser Hussain!”. While I do respect Nasser as an ex-England captain and commentator, I was surprised that out of the pool of names such as Churchill, Shakespeare and Darwin, that Essex’s finest Nas was chosen to represent England…
• As an Afrikaans part of the world, the toilets were listed as “Ekoles” or “Ekeles”. I have no idea which one I am, so I guessed at “Ekole”. I have no idea if I was right.
I awoke the following morning to find that I’d won five flashing ice cubes and a string bag. How, I have no idea. I also had 10 minutes to check out or I’d be charged for another night. After just about meeting the deadline, I spent the next few hours exploring Knysna by daylight. It’s a very nice town, with a nice waterfront and mall.
My bus was due at around 4, so I returned to the hostel early so I’d be in plenty of time. Time, however, kept ticking on and on, and while there was a TV to watch and a few beers with those from last night, the fact that the bus was four hours late meant that it wasn’t an ideal way to spend the afternoon.
Eventually, without warning it did arrive, and I had to say a rushed goodbye to my friends-of-one-night. I guess that’s the nature of backpacking, you’re forced into making quick acquaintances, but you’re equally forced away from them just as fast, never to see any of them again.
My bus to PE took a further five hours, and I eventually arrived blurry eyed at around midnight. I collapsed into bed, and woke up late.
I’ve now spent my first morning in Port Elizabeth, having had breakfast in a small bakery and gone for a walk. As is my wont, I stumbled across St George’s Cricket Ground, and while I was prepared to pay for a guided tour, after a quick word with the security guard, I let myself in for a wander around the pitch and stands. I’m now writing this from the main stand, with a great view of everything.
I have no idea if I’m meant to be here, but here I am anyway. I should probably get moving, as a security guard is looking a bit edgy…
Wednesday night was a real night of contrast. To start, I was picked up by Bill from the Chelsea Supporters Club Knysna. Bill is a Londoner who’s supported Chelsea since the 50s, and has lived in South Africa for over 20 years. For all of the big games, he, along with other fans, met up at an Italian restaurant on the waterfront to watch the game.
After meeting the others, it turned out that Bill aside, there’s only one other actual Chelsea fan. The rest were made up by “football fans” who don’t have a set team, and one who was an Arsenal fan, but just liked the company. However, they were all supporting Chelsea, which is all that mattered.
The game itself wasn’t great, but I had a lovely pizza, and we all had an indignant moan about the poor decisions that Chelsea get in Europe.
After saying my goodbyes and being dropped back to the hostel by Bill, I changed out of my Chelsea shirt and into something els. Before going down to the Waterfront, a few of us at the hostel had arranged to go out and find what Knysna had to offer in terms of entertainment for an evening. They’d all been waiting for my return, so after I got back, we hit Knysna high street.
The first place we went to wasn’t the most glamorous place in the world. It was mainly filled by old men with no teeth, and we all had a right laugh at the mural of John Travolta peeking through some bushes that filled the whole wall of the toilets.
Bizarrely, some old bloke with grey wispy hair and an even wispier beard took our laughter as a sign of approval, and revealed that he was the painter. After telling him that his work was “certainly unique”, we soon drank up and left, and moved on to the next place.
It was a club called “Zanzibar”, and it was the first time I’ve ever been into a completely empty club. After taking the ironic photos of us filling the dancefloor, we moved on from there to, and to a club across the road called “Up”. The rest of the evening was spent in there, and a good time was had by all.
Here are some brief notes about the evening:
• People kept shouting “Holland! Holland!” at me, because I was wearing an orange shirt.
• Some South African asked me if I was English, which I confirmed, to which he exclaimed “Oh, Nasser Hussain!”. While I do respect Nasser as an ex-England captain and commentator, I was surprised that out of the pool of names such as Churchill, Shakespeare and Darwin, that Essex’s finest Nas was chosen to represent England…
• As an Afrikaans part of the world, the toilets were listed as “Ekoles” or “Ekeles”. I have no idea which one I am, so I guessed at “Ekole”. I have no idea if I was right.
I awoke the following morning to find that I’d won five flashing ice cubes and a string bag. How, I have no idea. I also had 10 minutes to check out or I’d be charged for another night. After just about meeting the deadline, I spent the next few hours exploring Knysna by daylight. It’s a very nice town, with a nice waterfront and mall.
My bus was due at around 4, so I returned to the hostel early so I’d be in plenty of time. Time, however, kept ticking on and on, and while there was a TV to watch and a few beers with those from last night, the fact that the bus was four hours late meant that it wasn’t an ideal way to spend the afternoon.
Eventually, without warning it did arrive, and I had to say a rushed goodbye to my friends-of-one-night. I guess that’s the nature of backpacking, you’re forced into making quick acquaintances, but you’re equally forced away from them just as fast, never to see any of them again.
My bus to PE took a further five hours, and I eventually arrived blurry eyed at around midnight. I collapsed into bed, and woke up late.
I’ve now spent my first morning in Port Elizabeth, having had breakfast in a small bakery and gone for a walk. As is my wont, I stumbled across St George’s Cricket Ground, and while I was prepared to pay for a guided tour, after a quick word with the security guard, I let myself in for a wander around the pitch and stands. I’m now writing this from the main stand, with a great view of everything.
I have no idea if I’m meant to be here, but here I am anyway. I should probably get moving, as a security guard is looking a bit edgy…
Wednesday 6th April - 6.30PM
Wednesday 6th April – Island Vibe, Knysna
A bit of a faf of a day. The Baz Bus was due to pick me up from Mossel Bay at around 1.45, so just to be sure I didn’t miss it, I planned to be around the BPers for 1ish, so I couldn’t go too far away in the morning.
Luckily enough in my walk arount MB, I did manage to find the actual beach (rather than yesterday’s rocks) and what a nice beach it was. Not at all busy, and quite sandy. As all the best beaches should be.
Having now seen all of Mossel Bay at both day and night, I feel informed enough to offer an opinion of it. While it is a nice, quiet, relaxed holiday town, it does feel as though time has moved on a bit without it. The main feature of the town is a giant Jesus cross on the hill, and the whole area seems as though it was built in the 60s and hasn’t changed much since. But still, nice enough place to spend a few hours and relax on the beach.
So after my walking tour of MB finished, I returned to the BPers to wait for the bus. Wait being the operative word. As the only soul in the MB BPers, I sat and waited for 2 ¾ hours while the bus didn’t arrive. Eventually, well after schedule, it did come, but after only about 2 minutes on the bus, the driver stopped for a half hour break so everyone could stretch their legs. My legs are plenty stretched thanks, how about getting on with the journey?
Eventually, a long time after schedule, I alighted and arrived in Knysna. Chelsea are playing tonight against Man U, so I’ve been invited to watch the game with the Chelsea Supporters Club Knysna. It’s been a long and frustrating day, so hopefully the result tonight can make up for it!
Come on the Chels!
A bit of a faf of a day. The Baz Bus was due to pick me up from Mossel Bay at around 1.45, so just to be sure I didn’t miss it, I planned to be around the BPers for 1ish, so I couldn’t go too far away in the morning.
Luckily enough in my walk arount MB, I did manage to find the actual beach (rather than yesterday’s rocks) and what a nice beach it was. Not at all busy, and quite sandy. As all the best beaches should be.
Having now seen all of Mossel Bay at both day and night, I feel informed enough to offer an opinion of it. While it is a nice, quiet, relaxed holiday town, it does feel as though time has moved on a bit without it. The main feature of the town is a giant Jesus cross on the hill, and the whole area seems as though it was built in the 60s and hasn’t changed much since. But still, nice enough place to spend a few hours and relax on the beach.
So after my walking tour of MB finished, I returned to the BPers to wait for the bus. Wait being the operative word. As the only soul in the MB BPers, I sat and waited for 2 ¾ hours while the bus didn’t arrive. Eventually, well after schedule, it did come, but after only about 2 minutes on the bus, the driver stopped for a half hour break so everyone could stretch their legs. My legs are plenty stretched thanks, how about getting on with the journey?
Eventually, a long time after schedule, I alighted and arrived in Knysna. Chelsea are playing tonight against Man U, so I’ve been invited to watch the game with the Chelsea Supporters Club Knysna. It’s been a long and frustrating day, so hopefully the result tonight can make up for it!
Come on the Chels!
Tuesday 12 April 2011
Wednesday 6th April - 8AM
Wednesday 6th April - Mossel Bay
After finding a map that promised to show me to the beach, imagine my disappointment to find that it was just a large collection of rocks. While I did try to make myself comfortable, this didn't last long, so I quickly went off the idea of soaking up the sun. Instead, I returned to the BPers and had a swim in the pool.
After finishing there for the evening, and suitably showered and changed, I went out to see what Mossel Bay had to offer me in the ways of entertainment. Sadly, not much.
After walking the length of the high street, looking for somewhere, I realised that on my walk I'd barely set eyes on another person. It was like a ghost town. Hardly boding well for a buzzing night out...
Eventually I happened upon an Irish pub called "Patricks" where they had TVs, so I asumed the show the Real Madrid-Tottenham game. Other than the barman, I was the only one in there. There was a deal for steak and chips and 2 drinks for the equivalent of £3, so I took full advantage of the offer, and a bit more.
After my meal, and the obligatory ice cream, the game started, which was good as I had the place to myself. Until, of course, the only other people in Mossel Bay that evening arrived, and were disgusted by the football being shown. After a few drinks each (audibly tutting at me for watching football and allowing their night to be ruined by it), one of them had a bright idea. Going over to the jukebox, thet spent a bit of time deliberating, before picking a song and blasting it up as loud as the volume would go. So while I'd previously been able to listen to the commentary in peace, suddenly the voices of Ian Darke and Ray Wilkins were competing with Akon.
The group started dancing, and pointedly looking at me, hoping I would back down, take my football elsewhere, and leave. Having already taken full advantage of my dinner + drinks, and realising that Vodka Red Bulls were much cheaper than cider or beer, and given the fact I'd been waiting for a long while for the football to start, I'd had quite a few by now. So instead of leaving the pub, I took some change over to the jukebox and chose some songs for myself.
The group looked confused at my mind games, and stopped dancing. And after my songs had finished and the voice of Ray Wilkins began to boom out again, they drank up and left. Me 1 Mossel Bay 0.
The game itself was no great shakes, with Madrid beating 10 man Spurs very comfortably 4-0. So I paid up, and satisfied with my evening's travails, stumbled back to my hostel.
When I had gone out that evening, I had been the only one in my room, but when I returned, this clearly was no longer the case. Of the 6 bunk beds, 5 were filled with various sleeping strangers. My bed was the top bunk of the furthest bed away. I knew I had to be quiet. I knew they were all asleep. And I did try. But as I subtlely tried to climb the small ladder to my bed, there were all kinds of bumps and thumps. I wanted to get changed, or even put my phone, wallet and keys somewhere, but fearful of making even more noise, I had to lay there, with everything in my pockets, and sleep in what I went out in. As I was fairly uncomfortable (and because I'd had a fair bit of Red Bull) I was unable to sleep, and wary of moving in my bed in case I woke everyone up again, I just lay there.
At some point I must have got to sleep, as I was woken by German chatter at around 7 am. Revenge, I'm sure, for me waking them up the previous night.
That was my evening in Mossel Bay.
After finding a map that promised to show me to the beach, imagine my disappointment to find that it was just a large collection of rocks. While I did try to make myself comfortable, this didn't last long, so I quickly went off the idea of soaking up the sun. Instead, I returned to the BPers and had a swim in the pool.
After finishing there for the evening, and suitably showered and changed, I went out to see what Mossel Bay had to offer me in the ways of entertainment. Sadly, not much.
After walking the length of the high street, looking for somewhere, I realised that on my walk I'd barely set eyes on another person. It was like a ghost town. Hardly boding well for a buzzing night out...
Eventually I happened upon an Irish pub called "Patricks" where they had TVs, so I asumed the show the Real Madrid-Tottenham game. Other than the barman, I was the only one in there. There was a deal for steak and chips and 2 drinks for the equivalent of £3, so I took full advantage of the offer, and a bit more.
After my meal, and the obligatory ice cream, the game started, which was good as I had the place to myself. Until, of course, the only other people in Mossel Bay that evening arrived, and were disgusted by the football being shown. After a few drinks each (audibly tutting at me for watching football and allowing their night to be ruined by it), one of them had a bright idea. Going over to the jukebox, thet spent a bit of time deliberating, before picking a song and blasting it up as loud as the volume would go. So while I'd previously been able to listen to the commentary in peace, suddenly the voices of Ian Darke and Ray Wilkins were competing with Akon.
The group started dancing, and pointedly looking at me, hoping I would back down, take my football elsewhere, and leave. Having already taken full advantage of my dinner + drinks, and realising that Vodka Red Bulls were much cheaper than cider or beer, and given the fact I'd been waiting for a long while for the football to start, I'd had quite a few by now. So instead of leaving the pub, I took some change over to the jukebox and chose some songs for myself.
The group looked confused at my mind games, and stopped dancing. And after my songs had finished and the voice of Ray Wilkins began to boom out again, they drank up and left. Me 1 Mossel Bay 0.
The game itself was no great shakes, with Madrid beating 10 man Spurs very comfortably 4-0. So I paid up, and satisfied with my evening's travails, stumbled back to my hostel.
When I had gone out that evening, I had been the only one in my room, but when I returned, this clearly was no longer the case. Of the 6 bunk beds, 5 were filled with various sleeping strangers. My bed was the top bunk of the furthest bed away. I knew I had to be quiet. I knew they were all asleep. And I did try. But as I subtlely tried to climb the small ladder to my bed, there were all kinds of bumps and thumps. I wanted to get changed, or even put my phone, wallet and keys somewhere, but fearful of making even more noise, I had to lay there, with everything in my pockets, and sleep in what I went out in. As I was fairly uncomfortable (and because I'd had a fair bit of Red Bull) I was unable to sleep, and wary of moving in my bed in case I woke everyone up again, I just lay there.
At some point I must have got to sleep, as I was woken by German chatter at around 7 am. Revenge, I'm sure, for me waking them up the previous night.
That was my evening in Mossel Bay.
Tuesday 5th April - 3PM
Tuesday 5th April - Mossel Bay Backpackers
So after 9 weeks in South Africa, I've finally decided to venture outside of Hout Bay! Other than the family camping trip to Kam'Bati (just outside Swellendam) this is the first time I've left the Cape Peninsula. My thinking is that I've come all of this way to this rich and beautiful country, so it would be a waste if I returned home next week without seeing any of it!
So last week I got busy with the internet and planned my week away. I'm going to Port Elizabeth and back in a week, stopping at Mossel Bay and Knysna on the way and Plettenburg Bay on the way back. I bought my ticket on the Baz Bus; the hop-on hop-off bus that circumnavigates SA, so after being dropped off bright and early in Sea Point, I hopped on the bus, and a few hours later, I've hopped off in Mossel Bay!
The journey, meant to last about 4 hours, ended up being a 7 hour trek, thanks to a combination of roadworks, a slow bus, and a driver more interested in getting Alvin and the Chipmunks 2: The Squakquel on the TV rather than driving the bus. Seriously, we stopped by the side of the road for 20 minutes while he fiddled with the DVD player. I didn't even watch the film.
While the journey did drag a bit, I amused myself by listening to old episodes of the Ricky Gervais Show (and trying to no audibly laugh at Karl Pilkington). Eventually we got here, and I've arrived in Mossel Bay!
Having never been backpacking before this gap year adventure in 2011, I was wary to do it at first, but after reasonable success in Tas, Adelaide and Perth, I now feel like an experienced backpacker. I was expecting a filled room where I'd have to fight for a bed, instead I'm now sitting in my 6 personn dorm on my own. I think I'm the only person in this BPers. Nice.
Anyway, they say Mossel Bay has the second most amount of sun in the world (second to only Hawaii) so I'm off to the beach!
So after 9 weeks in South Africa, I've finally decided to venture outside of Hout Bay! Other than the family camping trip to Kam'Bati (just outside Swellendam) this is the first time I've left the Cape Peninsula. My thinking is that I've come all of this way to this rich and beautiful country, so it would be a waste if I returned home next week without seeing any of it!
So last week I got busy with the internet and planned my week away. I'm going to Port Elizabeth and back in a week, stopping at Mossel Bay and Knysna on the way and Plettenburg Bay on the way back. I bought my ticket on the Baz Bus; the hop-on hop-off bus that circumnavigates SA, so after being dropped off bright and early in Sea Point, I hopped on the bus, and a few hours later, I've hopped off in Mossel Bay!
The journey, meant to last about 4 hours, ended up being a 7 hour trek, thanks to a combination of roadworks, a slow bus, and a driver more interested in getting Alvin and the Chipmunks 2: The Squakquel on the TV rather than driving the bus. Seriously, we stopped by the side of the road for 20 minutes while he fiddled with the DVD player. I didn't even watch the film.
While the journey did drag a bit, I amused myself by listening to old episodes of the Ricky Gervais Show (and trying to no audibly laugh at Karl Pilkington). Eventually we got here, and I've arrived in Mossel Bay!
Having never been backpacking before this gap year adventure in 2011, I was wary to do it at first, but after reasonable success in Tas, Adelaide and Perth, I now feel like an experienced backpacker. I was expecting a filled room where I'd have to fight for a bed, instead I'm now sitting in my 6 personn dorm on my own. I think I'm the only person in this BPers. Nice.
Anyway, they say Mossel Bay has the second most amount of sun in the world (second to only Hawaii) so I'm off to the beach!
Baz Bus Diary
OK, so I've returned back to the civilisation of hot water showers, warm beds and the internet. Throughout my week I kept a diary so I could type it all up when I'm back, so over the next few days (it could be a bit of a slog) I'm going to reprint them here for your enjoyment.
I must say at this point that I'd never kept a diary before, and this will almost certainly sound like a cross between Adrian Mole and Alan Partridge. Not the Anne Frank that I was looking for. But whatever.
Enjoy!
I must say at this point that I'd never kept a diary before, and this will almost certainly sound like a cross between Adrian Mole and Alan Partridge. Not the Anne Frank that I was looking for. But whatever.
Enjoy!
Sunday 10 April 2011
Update
Hi there
I told you I wouldn't be on the internet for a week, but I've paid my 15 Rands just so I could sneak on here. I'm at "Albergo for Backpackers" at Plettenburg Bay. I've also been to Mossel Bay, Knysna and Port Elizabeth (mixed reviews), and you'll be pleased to hear I've been regularly keeping my diary.
However, I just wanted to post now, as I've just got back from doing the world's highest bridge bungee jump, and I'm rather buzzing. So I'm telling as many people as I can.
I told you I wouldn't be on the internet for a week, but I've paid my 15 Rands just so I could sneak on here. I'm at "Albergo for Backpackers" at Plettenburg Bay. I've also been to Mossel Bay, Knysna and Port Elizabeth (mixed reviews), and you'll be pleased to hear I've been regularly keeping my diary.
However, I just wanted to post now, as I've just got back from doing the world's highest bridge bungee jump, and I'm rather buzzing. So I'm telling as many people as I can.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)