November 2011. I’m on my way to find the mythical forest of Houtbos. That’s a long way north of Hermanus, and a lot empty space ahead.

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I stopped over in that little known centre of culinary excellence called Hopetown. Following a tip-off from the locals, I went looking for supper at the cafe at the BP garage, where they were well stocked in vetkoek, cold hard boiled eggs and pink viennas. But I chose one of these for R12. It was superb.

What to eat in Hopetown

In the morning I went through grasslands and thorn trees to Kimberley. I have an obscure route through the mieliefields and dorpies to Gauteng. Beyond Boshoff, I start hitting potholes, about 200 kilometres worth of them. I have to watch the road carefully now, and can’t look away as much as I like to. Resenting this, I start thinking bad thoughts about our democracy. I’m going to Parys, the first stopoff on my way to finding several sites I haven’t been to yet. The Jeep suspension is getting hammered, but at least I have Pierneefian trees to make me feel better…

Ah, so much better than fynbos!

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