Day two began early. 6am may not seem particularly early to some of you, but getting up in the dark is not something I have ever enjoyed. It is tolerable, however, when packing a vehicle (or motorbike) in preparation for a road trip.
We began at Jan’s place and despite the minor setback of loading the wrong vehicle with all the camera stuff and having to redo the whole thing from scratch, we made good time and were down at 2oceansvibe for a brunch braai by 10am. This morning the Rotherhamburger was born. I called half of one breakfast and I can assure you they are delicious. Healthy? Perhaps not. Too tasty to care? Absolutely.
We left De Waterkant around midday. In the car I learnt that Jan had a thank-you gift to drop off with Rev. Dr. Desmond Tutu’s PA, in Milnerton. Besides being a saint in his own right, Archbishop Tutu is the patron of National Braai Day and without him this whole tour may never have happened. It was unlikely that the Archbishop himself would be there, but Jan had been carrying his gift around (a set of crystal red-wine glasses) for a while now and it was now or never to deliver.
We arrived at some very unassuming offices in Milnerton. I jumped out the car, followed Jan up the stairs to the first floor and hung back while Jan knocked and waited. The door opened just a touch at first, revealing two sets of fingers curling round the wooden frame and half a grinning face which peered out at an angle through the slight crack. “Who’s there,” came the abrupt, but not unfriendly enquiry and when Jan managed to get his name out, the door opened wide, Archbishop Tutu grinning broadly on the other side.
We were ushered in happily and Jan handed over his gift with me not knowing quite where to stand or whether to respond to his greeting in English or my very broken Afrikaans.
What an amazing person Desmond Tutu is. He accepted his gift with glee and proceeded to wax lyrical about the South African cricket team, “our boys,” who did so well to chase down 296 in the game against India on Saturday.
DT: What’s that horrrrible word hey? You know the one they say about us?
JB: Bedoel jy “˜chokers?’
DT: Jaaa, chokers! But you know. India, they were 240-something for ONE! They should have got 400! And then we chased it so brrrilliantly in the last over. Ja! Our boys did well hey!?
And how can I not agree with that?
Still buzzing from our brief meeting I jumped back in the bakkie for our next stop: to pick up the day’s meat from a local butchery in Stellenbosch. Then it was off to our afternoon braai at De Akker, one of the oldest pubs in Stellenbosch, where you can feel the history in the old worn booths and polished wooden bar the moment you step inside. Frans was telling me earlier (over a two-by-four), that both his father and grandfather used to drink there – De Akker has definitely got some serious pedigree. We drank to their memory while Maties opened the scoring against Tukkies on the big screen overhead.
And that just about did me for the day. Time to get some sleep and, possibly, on the way, I’ll go and try to find something green to eat.
