Our flight the next morning was the 9:20 to Gqeberha (previously known as Port Elizabeth, and pronounced <tongue click>berra) so we had time for a leisurely breakfast at the hotel, where we swiped some orange juice so we could finish the bottle of champagne in the guise of mimosas.
When we landed we were supposed to be met at the airport by a representative of the car rental company. But no one was there. mmm ok. We tried to call the rental company but the message said they were not open on Sundays. mmm ok. Finally, we rang the head office and they said they would get back to me once they got hold of the branch office. We eventually got it all sorted, but by the time we left Gqeberha, it was a few hours later than we had hoped.
Leaving the car rental lot was terrifying. Before leaving I had read up about carjackings and thugs swarming cars and what to do in case this or that catastrophe happens. I was worried every time I saw the lights turning red.
But we were driving through a small town, on a Sunday and there was nothing going on. We made it to the highway without mishap. Driving on the highway was building up my confidence. Google maps was guiding me as easily here as it does back home, so when it told me to get off at the next exit, I complied. Dominique was using a different app as a comparison and she said that her app was saying we should continue on the highway. There was only a 7 min difference so we carried on - apparently we were on the "scenic" route.
um. no.
When we booked this part of the journey the organiser said he needed to check that the roads were still good, before he finalised our journey. We questioned this at the time, but, driving along that "scenic" route, we now knew what he meant.
All over the world people complain about potholes, but I have never seen potholes like this. Not only were they deep, not only were they wide, they were everywhere! I felt like I was in a sad video game where you had to dodge potholes, driving on the shoulder or into oncoming cars just to avoid them, slowing down to 20km/h to go through them when the other options weren't possible. We are in a Suzuki Swift, not a 4X4! Every once in a while there would be a sign that said "Beware Potholes" - no shit.
Finally we arrived at St Francis Bay, the calamari capital of the world (or so we were told). It is a quaint and quiet little coastal town with a part of the town has man-made canals, ostensibly so the rich folk can all have a place on the water and a place to moor their boats.
Beautiful.
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