Hello and welcome to issue 12 of the langeberger your tell-it-as-it-is tabloid of life at the Lodge. Today we continue our tour of the Overberg region with a visit to the seaside.
Arniston - named after a vessel that sank off the nearby coast in 1815 - is a quiet fishing village and seaside resort about 90km from Swellendam. (For Joy and me it’s a favourite day-trip destination - before the Lodge opened for business we spent many a summer Sunday there.)
From Swellendam travel west on the N2 for about 15km and then take the R319 to Bredasdorp. This is a quiet country road threading through farm land with vistas of gently undulating hills. If you see more than 5 cars travelling in the opposite direction it would be in order to remark to your companion, “The road is busy today, hey?”
You’re in blue crane territory now and you may be lucky enough to see a pair of these elegant birds doing their spectacular mating dance. Once I had to brake violently to avoid a blue crane flying directly at the car – it missed the windscreen by a hair’s breadth (nearly ruining it’s chances of ever doing a mating dance again).
From Bredasdorp you take the R316 to Arniston which passes by the ‘SAAF Test Flight and Development Centre’. (Yeah, right… that’s what the sign says, although we’ve never seen any aerial activity there. Joy’s theory is that somebody simply forgot to take the board down.)
So what of Arniston itself? It’s lekker, man: unspoilt location, fine beaches, quaint fishermen’s cottages, hotel with a view to die for. If it’s a lovely sunny day, head for the beach and follow in the footsteps of our ancestors the Strandlopers (well…someone’s ancestors, I suppose). Maybe the poet TS Eliot had this in mind when he wrote:
“I grow old, I grow old, I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled…”
(Guys, if you wish to follow Mr Eliot’s example, do remember to remove those socks and sandals first.) However, what the poet might have added is:
“…the water at Arniston is awfully cold.”
What better way to round off your seaside experience than to enjoy lunch on the terrace of the Arniston Hotel? Fish and chips and a glass of chilled white wine is definitely the order of the day. This is where we first met "Arnold", a waiter at the hotel. We had noticed him on previous visits; his cheerful manner and friendly smile made him stand out. This time we got to speak with him and in the course of conversation Joy asked him what hours he worked. He looked at us, eyes twinkling, dazzling smile: “I’m on the AFD shift,” he said.
Of course, we fell for it. “AFD...what’s that?” I asked.
With perfect timing, and with our undivided attention he delivered the punch line:
“My boss says my hours are all f****ing day!”
All right, no more, I surrender, “Beam me up, Scottie… ”
If you have been, thanks for reading our ‘blog’ and may your gods be with you.
Adios amigos,
Chris
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Strandlopers: Middle Stone Age Khoisan cave dwellers who inhabited these shores.
Arniston - named after a vessel that sank off the nearby coast in 1815 - is a quiet fishing village and seaside resort about 90km from Swellendam. (For Joy and me it’s a favourite day-trip destination - before the Lodge opened for business we spent many a summer Sunday there.)
From Swellendam travel west on the N2 for about 15km and then take the R319 to Bredasdorp. This is a quiet country road threading through farm land with vistas of gently undulating hills. If you see more than 5 cars travelling in the opposite direction it would be in order to remark to your companion, “The road is busy today, hey?”
You’re in blue crane territory now and you may be lucky enough to see a pair of these elegant birds doing their spectacular mating dance. Once I had to brake violently to avoid a blue crane flying directly at the car – it missed the windscreen by a hair’s breadth (nearly ruining it’s chances of ever doing a mating dance again).
From Bredasdorp you take the R316 to Arniston which passes by the ‘SAAF Test Flight and Development Centre’. (Yeah, right… that’s what the sign says, although we’ve never seen any aerial activity there. Joy’s theory is that somebody simply forgot to take the board down.)
So what of Arniston itself? It’s lekker, man: unspoilt location, fine beaches, quaint fishermen’s cottages, hotel with a view to die for. If it’s a lovely sunny day, head for the beach and follow in the footsteps of our ancestors the Strandlopers (well…someone’s ancestors, I suppose). Maybe the poet TS Eliot had this in mind when he wrote:
“I grow old, I grow old, I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled…”
(Guys, if you wish to follow Mr Eliot’s example, do remember to remove those socks and sandals first.) However, what the poet might have added is:
“…the water at Arniston is awfully cold.”
What better way to round off your seaside experience than to enjoy lunch on the terrace of the Arniston Hotel? Fish and chips and a glass of chilled white wine is definitely the order of the day. This is where we first met "Arnold", a waiter at the hotel. We had noticed him on previous visits; his cheerful manner and friendly smile made him stand out. This time we got to speak with him and in the course of conversation Joy asked him what hours he worked. He looked at us, eyes twinkling, dazzling smile: “I’m on the AFD shift,” he said.
Of course, we fell for it. “AFD...what’s that?” I asked.
With perfect timing, and with our undivided attention he delivered the punch line:
“My boss says my hours are all f****ing day!”
All right, no more, I surrender, “Beam me up, Scottie… ”
If you have been, thanks for reading our ‘blog’ and may your gods be with you.
Adios amigos,
Chris
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Strandlopers: Middle Stone Age Khoisan cave dwellers who inhabited these shores.
