BootsnAll Travel Network



Road Trouble

Sunday had promised to be an exciting day as I had made arrangements to fly with Linton’s friend, Johan. We were to go at 9:00 a.m. but the day dawned with a heavy fog cover and it became obvious that flying would have to wait for another day.

Flying was one of the things I had been most looking forward to in South Africa and between the weather and being busy with other things, it just had not been possible so I was disappointed that I had to postpone as my days are running out and the weather is always a factor.

I decided to go exploring to cheer me up and set off again on a backroad adventure over toward Ceres. It is a steep and rugged road with hairpin turns with sheer drops off the side but has spectacular mountain scenery. While it didn’t compare to flying, it served to pass the afternoon which had cleared to a beautiful, sunny day. After a couple of hours I began to make my way back to Gecko, slowly winding my way back down through the mountains.

Citrusdal was a ghost town, being Sunday and everything was closed up. It was eerily different than on any other day when the streets are filled with people milling about.

I was headed along the back road along the river when it became obvious that all was not well. It is a very rough road but even at that the distinctive thumping and bumping of a flat tire was not a welcome sound. Now … I am more than capable of changing a tire, but after already having the disappointment of having to cancel flying that morning, I wanted to just sit down at the side of the road and have a good cry instead. How could a day that had started with such promise end up being so lousy? To my shame I did a sad, sad thing … I called John to come and rescue me.

As I was waiting for John, I unloaded all of my suitcases from the trunk to get at the spare tire. As I pulled out the jack and the spare and began to get things ready, I began to realize how silly I was being and decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and to just get on with it and change the damn tire. I was at the side of the car, probably with a rather perplexed look on my face as I tried to figure out where to put the jack, when I heard a vehicle approaching. I knew it was too soon to be John and looked up to see an Afrakaner couple pulling over to the side of the road to see if I needed help.

Well girls … sorry to say I let you down again when I quickly succumbed to Andre’s insistance that he would change the tire for me. (I have to admit there is a wonderful fuzzy feeling that comes from being looked after by a good man.) In no time Andre had the tire off, the spare on and the vehicle ready to roll again as I enjoyed a lovely chat with his wife at the side of the road. They were from Ceres and were heading home after being away on holiday for a week. After he refused to allow me to pay him anything for his trouble, I extended my hand to shake hands with Andre and thank him. He took my hand and shook it but then proceeded to give me a big bear hug too. I love this country !!! After being assured that I did not need them to stay with me while I waited for John, we exchanged goodbyes and they continued on their journey home.

I had decided to wait for John even though the tire was fixed as I hadn’t been able to reach him on his cell to tell him not to bother to come. I was just as glad to see him pull up because the spare tire was just one of those little emergency tires and not a full sized one. They are only meant to get you a short distance to safety and not really for driving any distance on. These mountain roads are very rough and the recent rains have left them full of pot holes as well so I was glad to have John follow me home just in case.

I had assumed that I would have to go into Clanwilliam in the morning and get the tire replaced. I called the 24 hour emergency number for the National Car Rental agency from whom I had rented the car and the gentleman insisted that their policy was to bring a new car to me and exchange the old car for a new one and that he wanted to do that tonight. I explained to him that I was three hours away from Cape Town and that they would never find this place in the dark but he insisted. He also assured me that the only charge for this was the gas and, as I expected, I would have to pay for the tire. I sure hope he’s right. I would hate to have a big bill over this.

Back at Gecko Creek I settled in to wait. As darkness fell, I became more and more skeptical that the driver would have any hope of finding us in the dark. I mean … it’s dark out here … and we’re in the middle of NOWHERE. About three hours later, the telephone rang and it was the driver asking how far away he was. Talking him here was an interesting exercise given his strong Afrikaans accent, John’s broad Scottish accent, and my total ignorance of the area but, low and behold, with John’s excellent directions he was just a few hundred feet away from the gate. Ten minutes later he was pulling into the yard. A little bit of paperwork to swap out the cars and it was all done. Problem solved.

Oh well. I guess there are bad days even in South Africa. Having had more than my fair share of spectacular days, I was probably overdue.



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