Day 35 - Jacobs Bay

Sunday, November 10

Asfaal to Jacobs Bay

15k/9mi

Misty, Windy, Cold, Cloudy to Cool and Cloudy

 

 

When we gathered around Alta’s table to pack our lunches from the huge assortment of food, I asked the group in general if A. was in fact joining us for the last day. I can’t remember who responded, but I learned that she wanted to, but Cape Camino was saying no because she’d quit. They said there wasn’t a room available at the final host’s. A. was insisting she had paid and so had the right. I learned a bit later that Clare and Anna-marie had suggested she join us for the last night. It apparently wasn’t A.’s idea at all. 

 

I’d worked through most of my anger about the situation on the pages of my journal, so was more curious than anything else to see how it would all play out. It seemed that Gabrielle and A. had met their match in each other, and it wasn’t entirely clear who would come out on top. My money was on Gabrielle.

 

 

The weather turned in the night, and the day offered us a cold mist and heavy gray skies. For the first time since the Peninsula, we needed rain gear and layers. Another early start had been called and we were eager to get going because walking was the only way to warm up. Mané and Charlize were our chaperones for the day. He arrived first, Charlize quite a bit later. They had to confer because they hadn’t worked together before. It was decided we’d take Mané’s route, which was shorter and would take us through the dunes.

 

Alta walked out with us when we finally started, wanting a picture of the pilgrims under the sign for her business. When we turned the corner of the house toward the sign, we ran into a group of people who seemed focused on Cynthia. I’d seen them wandering around earlier in the morning, but didn’t give them much thought beyond noticing they were colored, something unusual for the area we were walking. 

 

They were in fact there for Cynthia: people from her work and friends and a media person there to support her work for whistleblowers. They intended to walk with her from Afsaal to Jacobs Bay. She would be interviewed and filmed. They’d made arrangements through Cape Camino and Alta, and had managed to keep the whole thing a secret. Even Cynthia’s daughter, Nicole, was kept in the dark. Their presence helped explain why Alta had kept bringing food out to the table long after we’d had more than enough.

 

In the excitement and chaos of the revelation of the surprise, the rest of us were left to our own devices. We were stuck waiting for Alta, and until the chaperones got themselves sorted out. Alta forgot she meant to take a picture with us. It was decided Charlize would stay with that group, and Mané would walk with us. He promised he could manage the different paces we’d be keeping, that Ina and Frikkie would be fine without their own chaperone.

 

We finally made our way to the road and headed down the long steep hill that we’d climbed the day before, happy to be moving. We hadn’t gone far when a car pulled up alongside. Charlize got out. After a quick conversation, Mané got in the car and it left. Charlize needed to go with us because she had to be in Jacobs Bay by a certain time. We were going to arrive much sooner than Cynthia’s group, so Mané went with them. We had nothing to say about what was happening, and went along with little fuss. Even knowing we’d likely be taking a longer route, and be going slower, didn’t matter all that much at that point. 

 

 

I walked with Ina and Frikkie for a long time. Going slow was actually appealing, especially with only two walking days left. As eager as I was to be done with the pilgrimage, I was equally reluctant to not be walking every day. One of the things I loved about being with Ina and Frikkie was the ease of moving ahead or slipping behind. We were a well-oiled walking machine together and the familiarity of it was such a pleasure. Clare and Anna-marie walked with Charlize mostly. 

 

 

We walked through pastures dotted with cows and fynbos until we reached the sea. We walked the beach for a while until we turned inland to a series of dunes. Mané had told Charlize his route, and she was trying to follow that. The problem was all the dunes looked alike and the trail kept disappearing into sand. We trudged up dunes and slid laughing down them, stopping at the tops to scout ahead. All of us were working hard, but when we finally found the beach again, we were exhilarated by our dune adventure, and proud that our bodies had handled the challenge well. 

 

 

Once on the beach again we emptied our shoes and found a place to eat. I soaked in the view: everything shades of gray, softened by the lace of waves coming into shore. It had warmed up enough we took off our coats and were comfortable in the cooler air. We didn’t linger, however, as sweat cooled and movement called. 

 

 

With Charlize’s permission, I walked ahead, enjoying that delicious freedom of no one in front of me. There was nothing but beach ahead, ocean on the right, one foot in front of the other in semi-soft sand. She caught up with me farther down the beach to ask what I thought about the choices ahead. We could continue on the beach into town, or take a road off the beach. The beach route was longer and the soft sand would continue. The road was shorter and while still sandy, much easier to navigate. Pleased to be asked, I told her we should take the road, knowing Ina and Frikkie would appreciate the break, and not unhappy to be off the sand myself.

 

I continued out front alone, promising that I’d stop and wait at a gate. The road leading to the gate started to look familiar, and when I saw the gate, I recognized the spot. We’d been here two years before, ending one of the longest and hardest walking days of that pilgrimage. I was happy today’s walk was nothing like that. 

 

 

Clare and Anna-marie arrived, and then Charlize. We settled in to wait for Ina and Frikkie. Charlize sat on a wall with me and mentioned she’d been having a hard time keeping up with me. She knew my age, so I knew I’d been a topic of conversation. She talked about her 74-year-old mom who was old and crippled. She talked about being determined to keep walking because of that. It was a sweet and validating conversation, and I was grateful then that she was our chaperone.

 

Earlier in the walk, I had decided I wasn’t going to tip Charlize because I was irritated she didn’t know the route and had spent no time with me at all. After our conversation I reconsidered my decision. I groaned at myself a little that my judgmental self had nearly cost me the gift of connection, and a chance at generosity. 

 

 

When Ina and Frikkie arrived, happy and in good spirits, we went around the gate and proceeded along the side of the road toward our destination. Our first stop was a coffee shop called the Bean & Leaf, which I remembered vividly from before. Our backpackers was just a short walk through a field from the coffee shop and it was early, only 10:30, so we settled in for drinks and snacks. 

 

The place was busy and had a happy energy. It felt good to just sit among people and enjoy the buzz of conversation and caffeine. Ina and Frikkie had a long chat with a couple sitting next to us, filling them in on our pilgrimage. The owner kept checking on us to make sure we had everything we needed. Alta joined us. She was luggage transport and would wait to take Mané back. Charlize left right after we arrived, but made a point to come say goodbye and get a hug before. I tipped her. 

 

We headed out together toward the backpackers lodging that we could see across the field. Clare and Anna-marie went ahead when Ina, Frikkie, and I were stopped by a women named Gerda. She had been our host two years before and just happened to see us walk by. She was thrilled to see Ina and Frikkie, and barely acknowledged me. I was accustomed by then to people remembering my friends much more than me. 

 

Not being included in the conversation made it easier for me to continue on my own. When I arrived at on the other side of the field, I saw signs for Pixieland and a high wall with a gate. I was confused at first, unclear where the backpackers was. I caught sight of Anna-marie’s back moving into Pixieland. Alta was sitting in her car in the parking lot. So, I knew I was in the right place. I waited for Ina and Frikkie to catch up and we walked through the high wall together.

 

We spotted a beautiful young colored woman in a bright orange dress walking with Clare and Anna-marie. When we caught up to them, they announced they were taking one of the double rooms, and I would be sharing the triple with Cynthia and Nicole. Shades of A. at Schaftplaas. It made sense I’d be with my friend and her daughter, but being ordered rankled still. 

 

Ina and Frikkie would have their own double on the same side of the property as Clare and Anna-marie. Octavia, our host, walked me across the lawn in the opposite direction to show me my room. It was tucked in a corner, other rooms close by. There was a glamping tent on the other side. The room itself held three bunkbeds with just enough space for a small table by each. I took the bed by the door so Cynthia and Nicole could be across from each other. 

 

When I asked Octavia about the bathroom and showers, she said they were up by the entrance. I almost laughed, because of course. However, she pointed to the tent on the other side of some bushes from our room and told me I could use that bathroom if I wanted. No one was using the glamping tent that night. That felt like the biggest gift I could have hoped for. Later when I explored the place and scouted out the showers, I found them dark and small and gross. When I used the bathroom by the glamping tent, I discovered it had its own shower.

 

I went to the office to ask Octavia if I might use that shower. She was on the phone, and it didn’t take long before I realized she was talking to Gabrielle. Apparently, our dinner plans for the evening had been changed. We were originally supposed to eat at the Bean & Leaf, but they were closed on Sunday nights (something I thought Cape Camino should have already known). Arrangements had been made for us to have dinner in a private home a mile or so away. Octavia was trying to get Gabrielle to arrange transportation. I heard Gabrielle say that we were walkers and we could walk. Octavia looked at me apologetically, and I just smiled. She gave me permission to use the shower without hesitation. 

 

After my stop at the office, on my way to the shower, I saw Ina and Alta sitting at an outside bar chatting. Ina called me over, so I joined them. It was fun to be three old ladies from very different worlds talking about life. Alta was crocheting a sweater with the most beautiful blue doily-thin yarn, patiently waiting for Mané to arrive. Ina left. I stayed, in no hurry to go anywhere, enjoying getting to know and better appreciate Alta. 

 

That morning, I had decided not to leave my customary gift and note behind on my bed. The only times on the walk so far that I hadn’t left the thank you token were places I had no contact with the host at all. There weren’t many. I was annoyed about the previous day’s trip to town without me, about the bathroom situation, about her not talking to me once the entire time I was there. 

 

Talking to Alta in the courtyard that afternoon I realized how badly I’d misread her. She was shy and quiet, and not comfortable with English at all. She was a fairly new host and not yet settled into the role. But she loved hosting, and feeding people. She cared deeply. I was both embarrassed and grateful. The memory of my experience with Charlize was still very fresh, and this felt like an opportunity to rewrite a story. 

 

I went to my room, wrote a card, pulled out the small wooden bald eagle that was my offering, and went back to Alta. I explained I had not done this earlier, without telling her my whole character-building conflict, and that I was glad I had the chance to do it then. She was pleased, and asked me to sign the bottom of the bird. We hugged goodbye when I left to take my shower. 

 

That shower was one of my favorite experiences of the day. While private, surrounded by a wooden fence, it was open-air. The floor and surround were stone, the water hot, the pressure solid. It was a Swiss Family Robinson moment, one I enjoyed thoroughly. The story of how I’d been given the gift of this space made being there all the sweeter. 

 

Clare and Anna-marie complained to Octavia about the bunk beds in their room. They got what they asked for and were still not happy. She moved them into a room with two single beds. A. would have been proud of them. I felt a little righteous smugness at not caring (much), and at how my situation turned out without creating conflict.

 

The backpackers was very funky and weird. The courtyard held lots of kitschy statues and places to sit and was nicely landscaped. There was an entrance from the courtyard into Pixieland, which Cape Camino had promoted as a spiritual site. There was a lot of shade, and except for the occasional family wandering through to go to Pixieland, we had it to ourselves. 

 

Octavia had pointed out the kitchen building on her way to show me my room. When I checked it out later, I discovered there was an electric kettle for making hot water, and a few mugs, but little else. No coffee or milk or tea. I walked back to the shopping center that held Bean & Leaf to a small market I’d seen close by. All I really needed was milk because I had coffee sachets and rooibos in my gear. I found milk, and chocolate and snacks and Coke.

 

I was settled at a table in the courtyard with my drink and goodies and my journal when Cynthia’s group arrived a couple of hours after we did. I was happy to show Cynthia and Nicole to our room where I’d put chocolate on their pillows, and share our special secret bathroom. After a while, Cynthia came out and joined me in the courtyard. It was so nice to hear about her day, to know what it meant to her, and just to be in her company. I had missed her on the walk. 

 

 

Clare and Anna-marie came out and wanted to explore Pixieland. Ina and I joined them and had the best time wandering the weird little displays of fairies, pixies, and other small magical beings. We took pictures, and pointed out various weirdnesses to each other, and giggled like kids. The place was shabby and tired-feeling, but clearly someone had put a lot of thought and energy into it. While it didn’t feel spiritual at all, we were glad for the experience. 

 

During the course of the day, there was drama on the WhatsApp group, and in side conversations, around our last day. A. was insisting she be allowed to stay. The original guest house turned out to be the wrong one. The correct one only had room for Cynthia and Nicole, and Anna-marie. (Ina and Frikkie had plans to stay with Frikkie’s brother, and I was staying at Pumpkin House with Hanli.) Not only was there not room for A., but there was also not room for Clare. She had never been scheduled to stay that night, but hadn’t understood that when she got her itinerary. She was not happy, and decided she’d leave a day early rather than try to find a bed for that last night. That changed the entire transport to Cape Town, which I’d already backed out of, but which now left Anna-marie on her own to find her way there. We were also still trying to figure out the boat situation.

 

It felt sticky and messy and also not a surprising end to this particular adventure. None of it really involved me, beyond a small sense of satisfaction that there might be some karmic justice at work. 

 

We gathered to walk to dinner together. Three of us walked through the field toward the street that would lead us to our destination. Two of us walked on the street parallel to the field. We met up where they intersected and stayed together for the rest of the walk. We had an address and a Google maps link and Frikkie was leading. I tried to use the navigation on my phone, but the lag made it less than useful. We missed our first turn, made the next one, wandered the neighborhood a bit, and finally arrived on time. 

 

We couldn’t figure out how to get to the front door through the fence, and were happy when a young man came out to fetch us. We walked into a beautiful home, light and airy, and met our host, Gerda. She was very welcoming, and introduced us to a gentleman, not as her husband but as her partner in this business. She offered dinners like ours to tourists, a chance to have a local meal in a local home. 

 

 

There was some confusion at first. Gerda was expecting 10 people and had been told we had to eat early and fast because people needed to catch a flight. Apparently, Gabrielle had thought three of Cynthia’s companions were going to join us, but they had left for the airport long before we walked over for dinner. Gerda was relieved there was no longer a time crunch, and a little frustrated that she’d prepared food for more people than necessary. 

 

We settled around the beautifully set table, with the extra settings and chairs removed. Menus for the dinner were at our places. There was a lot of wine, and the food was abundant and delicious. She explained each thing as it was served. We were in awe of the meal and the setting, grateful for the special treatment we were receiving. Nicole, who hadn’t been feeling well earlier, was looking decidedly uncomfortable across from me at the table. I was impressed by her calm stoicism and care not to draw attention to herself. 

 

When dinner was done, the gentleman offered to drive us back as it was getting dark and cold. Ina and Frikkie, and Clare and Anna-marie wanted to walk. I decided to ride back with Cynthia and Nicole. When we went out to get in the car, we noticed the two couples striding off in opposite directions, and laughed. The gentleman drove us home by way of an overlook to the sunset and talked amiably the whole time about life in Jacobs Bay. It was a pleasant end to the day, and I was grateful for one more African sunset.

 

When we arrived at the backpackers before the walkers, we discovered the door locked. I called the number and had to wait for someone to unlock it remotely. While we were waiting, my phone rang. It was someone wanting to know when we were leaving in the morning. Anna-marie had told us our luggage needed to be ready at 8:00, and our walk would start at 9:00. I was happy that I had the information to share, even though I had no idea why I was being asked. 

 

We brought all the next day’s lunches with us in the car and took them to our room. I was already in bed, and Cynthia and Nicole were getting ready for bed when Clare and Anna-marie came knocking. They wanted to get their food right then, even though there would be a ton of time in the morning. It took a while for them to sort through everything and take what they wanted. It took us a while after to get settled back in.

 

The last thing I remember was hearing the soft murmurings of a mother and daughter whose relationship I felt privileged to witness. Two more walking days, three days until home. I was feeling weirdly strong, and impervious to the toxicity and drama that was the backdrop to the entire pilgrimage. It wasn’t about me. I could get through the remaining time calmly and with integrity. Magical thinking hadn’t proved helpful in the previous weeks. It wasn’t going to at the end either.