Whilst getting our puncture fixed we got chatting to some South Africans who were up from Cape Town for the long weekend. (The Beast is quite a conversation starter and attracts a lot of attention from South African campers keen to catch up on the latest way to kit out their Land Cruisers for optimum comfort and performance. I get the impression they are a little disappointed by ours when they actually see inside.) Anyway, these South Africans recommended a campsite, Oewerburg River Camp, on the south side of the Orange River, only 10km or so away from the border crossing point. Given our delays in setting off we decided to make this our destination so headed off down the dirt road. When we found it, it was a lovely spot, with camp sites on the grassy bank down to the river and cosy looking bar. Unfortunately there didn't seem to be anyone around, apart from the cook who didn't speak English, and two gorgeous dogs (Rhodesian Ridgebacks crossed with a bunch of other stuff). We considered trying a different site, but then Rich saw the sign advertising pizza at the bar, and our decision to stay was made.
Eventually the owner turned up - a characterful and relaxed chap named Neville. He had just returned from picking up a family who had been canoeing down the river for a couple of days. Something, which if we ever returned to the area again, would be lovely thing to do. After setting up camp and having a quick, and rather muddy, swim in the river, we settled in for an evening at the bar. Here we got chatting to Hannes, river guide come photographer come barman for the evening. There was one of his books of wildlife photographs (Colours of Southern Africa) on the bar to flick through, and they really are beautiful. The photograph of him with his enormous zoom lens made me particularly jealous! He also is very knowledgeable about the area so he worked out a handy itinerary for us for our journey south. Particularly useful at this stage given we have no map and the Lonely Planet for Southern African basically doesn't cover any of this area. After quite a few G&Ts, our pizzas arrived which were a delicious alternative to all the camping food we have been eating recently.
After some brief mechanical help from Neville the next morning (turns out all the spare wheel lowering mechanism needed was some oil), we headed out onto the N7 south towards Cape Town. We called in at Springbok to get groceries and to visit the Springbok cafe, which reportable is the place to buy maps. Map successfully procured we continued south, turning off the main road after about 300km, in the direction of one of our recommended stops, Strandfontein. This appears to have been purposely built as a holiday town and occupies an attractive bay. Luckily for us, a large proportion of the seafront has been set aside for the municipal camp site. After some searching around the relatively deserted town (its getting a bit chilly for beach holiday) and some assistance from some helpful locals, we secured ourselves a seafront campsite, which comes with its own toilet block. We were just in time to pour a glass of wine as the sun was setting and catch a show from the resident pod of dolphins who were enjoying playing in the surf and doing some of the most amazing jumps and turns I've every seen.
From Strandfontein we continued down the coast to Lamberts Bay. There doesn't appear to be any public roads that run along the coast, so instead you have to pay a toll to use private roads. They are surprisingly pricey for what are essentially potholed dirt tracks. No problem for The Beast however; this is what he is made for.
Unfortunately, the weather had taken a turn for the worse and a damp coastal mist and settled in for the day. As Lambert's Bay is a reasonably large size town for the area, we had been advised to camp and Elands Bay, another 20mins or so down the coast. Given the weather this looked like a very bleak little hamlet. The campsite was right on the beach, and would perhaps have been lovely if sunny. On the day we were there it was desolate and very eerie, but it was probably too far to get to anywhere else that day, so we tried to settle in. We were the only campers, save for a group of grisly looking fishermen. We huddled inside The Beast, trying to stay warm and dry and not to think about what a great place this was to be murdered.
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