It’s overcast when we wake up which is a bit disappointing as we have decided to go to the cafe at The Heads, but given that the weather over the last few days has been cloudy at first then nice, we go anyway. As we leave the house, the clouds break and we have blue sky by the time we arrive at the restaurant.
The wind is quite strong and waves break all across the sand bank at the entrance to the lagoon. Getting a boat through today would be really unpleasant and maybe even dangerous and as I look at the waves I thank God we aren’t arriving today.
Photo: Breaking waves at the entrance to the lagoon at Knysna
We order breakfast, which, when it arrives is absolutely delicious. I have spicy mince on toast with a poached egg on top and bacon on the side – yummy. Of course, the picture would have looked better if I had taken the photo before I had eaten half of it!
Photo: A half devoured, very delicious breakfast
Photo: The Beswicks and the Roses at breakfast
When we leave, the weather is warming up nicely and it promises to be a beautiful, if windy, day.
Photos: Stuffed and happy
On the way back, we stop at the African Craft Market as Victoria wants to buy some presents, but she also buys herself an ostrich egg, which has been painted by bushmen and is very reminiscent of the Aboriginal painting we bought in Darwin, along with an ebony bracelet to sit it on.
As we walk around, we meet the self professed bush doctor, a very colourful local character who won’t take no for an answer, and is the first time I have come across the relentless hard sell that I hate. However, he is so good at it that Victoria is dragged in by his talk and drags me in for support. I don’t want another bloody wooden bowl, especially at the price he is talking about even if his are better than the one I have already bought. He tells Terry, who is in the process of buying more wooden giraffes from him, to take our photo holding the bowls I am going to buy. Oh, really?
Photo: Victoria, the bush doctor, me and the bloody bowls!
I manage to get away without parting with any money – no mean feat I can tell you.
Mike drops me off in town to meet Ann and Terry then Terry goes back to the house to meet with one of the builders while Ann and I go food shopping. Half way round the supermarket I get a call from Mike needing help with lifting the dingy out of the water but by the time Ann and I have walked there he and Victoria have managed to lift it out with the aid of a couple of other guys that had made the mistake of hanging around the marina. We meet up with Terry in town to hand over the money for his new giraffes and he goes back to the market to get them.
By the early afternoon the sun is out in full and Ann, Victoria and I sunbathe for a little while. Victoria’s pearly white skin burns a little (which is my fault apparently) but at least she is getting a little colour.
Victoria is still desperate to at least get her toes in the sea so Terry suggests a trip to Buffels Bay. It is still really windy and the waves are fearsome but beautiful. The beach, which is wide, long and sweeping, is almost completely empty. Victoria goes in the sea and pronounces it freezing but has a gleeful look on her face even though she is soaked up to the knees.
Photos: Victoria gets wet
Photo: I search for shells but someone’s already nicked all the good ones
Photo: Ann looks for the sea - “it’s behind you!”
Photo: Mike guards some driftwood for Ann but will it be enough?
As we walk further along the beach, Victoria is delighted to find the remains of many dead jellyfish. Ever since one stung her in the BVIs some years ago, she has hated them with a vengeance. She announces that dead jellyfish are the best type.
Photo: Me and big sis
Photo: Mike and Victoria brave the wind and salt spray
Photo: Mike, Ann, me and Victoria on breezy Buffels Bay
Photo: A snuggle in the shelter of the driftwood
I love this beach, but it’s time to move on. We drive further back to where the main resort is but the beach there is not as appealing to my mind – too many dogs and people with kites, so we drive back to Brenton-on-sea and stop at Crabs Creek for a drink. It’s a lovely spot on the opposite side of the lagoon to where Ann and Terry live but inside there’s a distinct lack of atmosphere. Ann, Terry and I sit outside for a while until the cold drives Ann and I back in leaving poor Terry all alone, but he’s hardy and sits and enjoys the view.
Photo: View across the lagoon from Crabs Creek
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