South Africa - The Lions on the Road: Cycling London to Cape Town - page 306

as the radio was playing. He said that it was strange for two reasons: first, he had never
done his paperwork in his buckie before and second, he almost never listened to the radio.
The morning I was being interviewed, he was doing both. He even took notes as I spoke
and showed me what he wrote on the margins of his paperwork.
He explained that what I said on the radio touched him deeply and he prayed that
we would have the opportunity to meet. He wanted to give me a blessing and so, on the
sideofthisbusyhighwaywiththundercloudsapproachingoverhead,welaidhandsoneach
other's shoulders and prayed together. It was actually one of the most poignant human ex-
periences I have ever had in my life. He then gave me 210 Rand and insisted that I spend it
on myself (I didn't). I thanked him in Afrikaans and as I started to leave, I looked over my
shoulder and waved one last time noticing the smile on his face. He seemed so full of joy.
I was humbled and honoured that I moved him so profoundly.
As I cycled onward, I replayed what transpired over and over. My thoughts were so
consumedabouttheexperience andwhathesaidtomethatIdidn'tnoticethatthelooming
thunderclouds had disappeared and the sun came out.
It was here that I entered one of South Africa's jewels: the Garden Route, a stretch
of coastal highway about 300 kilometres in length containing spectacular scenic beauty
filled with lakes, bays, beaches, rivers, mountain passes, cliffs, forests, wild flowers, and
prehistoric caves. Whenever I passed through the forests I found myself inhaling the air
deeper for the pine fragrance they were emitting was intoxicating.
I met up with two Belgians who were cycling in my direction. We cycled together
only for a few kilometres but decided to part ways. I simply couldn't keep up with them.
To be honest, I enjoyed my slower pace and the freedom to stop whenever I wanted to take
photographs and absorb the views, the sounds and the aromas. With these travel compan-
ions, I would have felt rushed all the time. So when we parted it was just a simple wave
good-bye.
The Garden Route did have some long climbs but none were steep. I crossed the
arched Paul Sauer Bridge (also referred to as the Stormsrivier Bridge) and took a break at
the Tsitsikama Total Village Petroport (a gas station) just on the north side after the cross-
ing. I left my bike resting against a picnic table and returned to take pictures of the gorge
and the Storms River 120 metres below. I marvelled at Ricardo Morandi's design of the
bridge and the method that was used in its construction back in 1956. As I was taking pho-
tos, I started a conversation with Danie Bredell, a bank manager, and his wife who also
stopped to take in the view. I said good bye and returned to my bike to continue.
I passed by the Tsitsikama Forest National Park at Stormsrivier which was so stun-
ning that I extended my break just to admire the view of the Tsitsikama Mountains to the
north.
I met a local lady and she directed me to a gentleman named Arthur Rogers who
ran the Tsitsikama Forest Inn. I was invited to stay as a guest and was treated to a fabulous