It was in a varsity module that I first heard of "The Hole in the Wall". Even its name sounded exotic to my untravelled ears. When I saw pictures of it my mind was made up - I had to see it. But it was another six years after I graduated before this happened.
While working in East London, I finally booked a trip to Coffee Bay. My car, however, was a real skoroskoro, and while I loved it, I knew it wouldn't take me that far.
The Eastern Cape's topography can be quite challenging for public-transport users.Getting to Coffee Bay required either a taxi or bus to Umtata, then another taxi. Now, waiting for a taxi to fill up can be quite a mission and this can also affect one's transport at the next stop.
Car hire was expensive and, being unfamiliar with Umtata, I booked the Baz Bus, a hop-on hop-off backpacker bus, from Umtata to Coffee Bay. The next hurdle was travelling from East London to Umtata. Hitch-hiking was the alternative, eish. The last time I hitch-hiked was in high school, and that was not the best of trips. Let's just say it included a truck, a boozing driver and a touchy-feely girlfriend.
POTHOLES AND SURFBOARDS
Luckily, this time my driver was sober. We were in Umtata in under two hours and I caught the Baz at the Shell garage.
Our journey was uneventful, except for some horrendous potholes. I also hadn't realised how far Coffee Bay was.
The scenery close to the coast is beautiful, however, the area is largely undeveloped. We dropped off a few passengers along the way and then, finally, we were at The Coffee Shack, my shelter for the weekend.I had a moment of panic when I first saw the backpackers. It looked nothing like it did on the website. However, it was what it was: a backpackers, and I'd never been to one before. My visions of a one-star lodge with vintage furnishings quickly diminished. With its sparse and rustic furnishings, and surfboards for wall art, this was a surfer's paradise. I took comfort from the fact that I would not be sleeping in a dorm.
A WALK IN THE RAIN
The next day dawned with drizzling weather, which did not bode well for my planned hike but I was not deterred. I secured a tour with a local guide, a laid-back, fast-walking Rastafarian gentleman, who had been doing this for more than 10 years.
There were only two of us on the tour, including the guide.
I had not expected the long route, the rocky hills and slippery slopes. At some point I wanted to cry, it was taking so long and my slipping escapades were getting too close to the cliff's edge.The scenery, however, did not disappoint. The views and huts right at the beachfront were breathtaking for a township girl.
We finally made it and I must say it was worth every slip and curse. We couldn't really get too close, but it was still a sight to behold. After a few pictures, we made the arduous return journey. We took a different route back, through the residences. I can't say it was much better, the slippery paths were once again my downfall, but my heart was at peace so I didn't care.
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