We arrived in J-bay at the municipal campgrounds on 16 July and pitched our tent right on the beachfront, next to the perfect overlander for Africa that made us doubt, just for a second, in Bertus’ abilities.
Armed with a 1.5l of Old Brown Sherry we braved the cold. Wind that can cut through bone if left exposed raged that night, the next day, the next night and then the day after that again. At least it was consistent. I have 1 photo that is usable of the entire time we stayed there – the rest were all shivered out of focus.
To escape the cold we went shopping at the famous surf-brand factory shops where we soon realized 2 things: 1. Factory shop does not mean cheap. 2. Surfers do not have big feet. We went from one shop to another looking for plakkies for Clayton but even their version of a size 13 was too small. We eventually found a size 14 hidden in the back, long forgotten by anyone on the shop and as an added bonus it was on special, or just its original price from waaaay back when.
Bertus was a bit temperamental that day, maybe because of the weather or working extra hard the previous day to reach his new top speed of 111km/h (on a very steep downhill – recorded on the GPS). Clayton thought that it could be the second-hand ignition coil (that we traded for a HDMI cable in Joburg) that gave problems. Armed with our GPS we went in search of the nearest Midas store. I think Bertus took this as an insult and decided to proof to us that he is mechanically 100% (like Clayton assured me) because after we bought the coil, he drove like a dream…
When we got back to the camp the wind reached a new level of cold and speed so we decided to move our set-up back against the bushes for a bit more protection. As luck will have it, this was also the prime crime spot in the camp (according to the receptionist who watched us move our setup but only felt compelled to tell us once we were done with the move) but we decided that no criminal can be that desperate to brave the cold wind to come steal our meager possessions. We were correct in this assumption.
That night we feasted on steak and mushroom sauce, generously donated by Clayton’s dad and went to bed a bit warmer than the previous 2 nights. We woke up (to wind), packed up camp and headed to Buccaneers Backpackers in Chintsa, determined to find the one thing that the Sunshine coast was known for: sunshine.
Wandering Off Track 