One human trait I share with my kind is to attempt a task and if at first it proves unsuccessful, to adjust and try again. So now that I have had a good look at the mountainous backlog of traveling memories I wish to share with you, I have quailed at the mission and (perhaps cowardly) decided to bring you up to date on my most recent camping experience and then catch up the last five years worth of experiences - when I have the time and inspiration.
2 July 2012
Mid-winter in South Africa Kwa-Zulu Natal. Not an ideal time to consider leaving your warm and cozy home in favor of a canvas sheet between you and the frigid night air. This way of thinking would be true if the direction in which you were foolishly heading was the Drakensberg. However Durban is commonly described as the "warmest place to be" and for good reason. By 9am the sun is up and dancing the chill away leaving a refreshing wind in its afternoon wake. Admittedly the nights are on the cold side of a bacon sandwich left in the fridge but a hot chicken poitjie with a cup of Milo to follow is a tried and tested cure to any goosebumps one may experience.
Lalanathi Caravan & Camping Park was our chosen place of invasion from the 28 June to the 2 July 2012. My group of fellow campers included Luke, his father Andrew, step-mum Petro, brother James (age 15), and his sister Kelsey who was on the verge of her thirteenth birthday when we arrived at the sunny beach location on the Thursday afternoon at 3.30pm having traveled two hours from Hilton. A quick investigation of the tents needed to be set up resulted in the hilarious realization that the wrong tent bag had been brought along to house James. This one consisted of all the tent spares and in fact contained no tent. The fact that its zip had been painted bright red and its side was marred by a large gash had apparently not registered in Andrew's slightly scatterbrained mind that perhaps this was the incorrect tent bag. Petro and Andy promptly roared off in their bakkie in search of a new home for James whilst leaving us to set up the rest of camp as best we could. This usually consists of a gazebo, several black ammunition boxes containing our supplies of food, and crockery, cooking utensils, chairs, wind breaker wall, gas cylinders, the Cob, cool boxes, and plastic tables. With reference to the black ammunition boxes (a necessity in the berg when you need to prevent persistent monkeys from getting at your food), many a cry of "Daaad, where's the (insert object of your choice)?" has been answered with: "In the black box!" Bear in mind that there are several said black boxes, and hence the reply is totally unhelpful in identifying which one contains the desired object. Frustration! Upon the parents triumphant return from the shops with the much awaited Camp Master tent, huge hilarity resulted at the discovery that the tent appeared to be made for miniature humans. James is a growing teenage boy poised to overtake his father in height - now imagine that tall lanky body trying to fit into a tent built to house a six year old. Our giggles lasted well into the night at James' expense, and just when I began to get a grip on myself Petro added her quirky sense of humor to the situation (which really didn't need it) and told James' to "quit making a mountain out of a molehill" in response to his legitimate complaints. In the end we discovered that James could fit (barely) in the tent by maneuvering himself between diagonal corners and making full use of the fetal position he was born into. Supper consisted of initiating Andrew's father's day gift, a Cob wok, with beef stir fry and Special Chinese "flied lice" (translated: Fried rice).
The next day was Kelsey's birthday and as per her instructions we were treated to muffins on the beach for breakfast. My gift to her of a jar full of sweets went down well, and her new Blackberry was well used by the end of the day. Welcome to the addictive world of social networking through Facebook, BBM (Black Berry Messenger) and WhatsApp Kelsey! A stroll along the coarsely sanded beach front collecting shells left my feet feeling fully pedicured and my stomach feeling rather empty - lunch!A Snack Attack meal later (made up of biscuits, cheese, cucumber, carrots, and other salad-ish things) and we directed our feet towards Banana Beach. The rising wind signaled the end to our azure sky and beaming sunlight, and a braai left us feeling satisfied and ready for bed.
Kelsey's friend Lara arrived the following afternoon once we had completed a long morning walk on the beach in search of the shipwreck - a sight that was not all that momentous although the stroll was enjoyable. Luke and I were sent off in our little Bantam bakkie to scavenge out the necessities - ice and braaikets. We made a bad decision and chose Hibberdene as our shopping destination. It was a horrendous experience, with its Village Mall being full of all that is distasteful in South Africa: Cackling women blocking the aisles without consideration for others, other shoppers encroaching on one's personal space, filthy floors that made me regret not wearing shoes for fear of disease, and cashiers that had no interest in good service delivery. Avoid Hibberdene Village Mall! Choose Port Shepstone or Shelly Beach instead. Back at camp we were greeted by a note saying: At the beach - Come join us! Which we did. That evening we made Luke's Oupa's famous chicken poitjie which finally satisfied Luke's year long craving. Petro's fresh steaming hot Cob bread was the perfect compliment to the meal.
On the first day of the new month we chose to spend our morning swimming at Banana Beach - yes, swimming in winter! To the sound of crashing waves I managed to douse myself in my dripping mint ice-cream although I pride myself in managing to get 80% of it to my oral cavity. The wind picked up earlier than usual and we were shooed firmly back to camp by lunchtime. Luke and his family made use of the communal pool table in the common room which also holds a television for those sport-crazed fans that cannot miss a game (of which I am one when it comes to Wimbledon). For supper we all made the 10 minute drive to Shelly Beach's Chinese restaurant, Long Feng. Luke and I have been going there with my family for the last five years so when our favorite waitress attended our table of seven she smiled towards Luke and said: "So you are down here with your family now?" This familiarity gave me a warm glow that had only a small portion to do with the amazingly yummy sweet and sour pork I ordered. The kids loved their food as well, which was a victory on my part because they are the toughest critics to impress when it comes to any abnormal sustenance.
The final morning was spent packing up camp and saying farewell to the friendly new owners (they only took over the campsite in January), the unruly flock of guinea fowl, the swimming pool, the hot showers and the sparkling clean ablution blocks. The power points distributed throughout were a great help, although the taps were a little more infrequently placed than I would have liked so next time we'll be sure to take along a water can to keep full at the campsite. Something else that was lacking was a braai place, for which we had to borrow from the owners. Be sure to take your own braai if you ever make the right life choice to visit quaint Lalanathi. The minute long walk through the bush to get to the beach means that this campsite has a great proximity to the sea as well as Banana Beach. I loved this place, and I'm so grateful to Luke's family for including me in their holiday plans. Be sure to try it when you're in the area!
