The next stop was Buccaneers Bay Backpackers in Cintsa, a small beach town several hours north of Port Elizabeth. Set on a sprawling hillside property dotted with cottages and with its own bar, swimming pool and volleyball court, the hostel grounds were huge, with stunning views overlooking the beach. We were staying in a 6-person cottage at the bottom of the hill but as there was no one else in it we had the place to ourselves! After stowing our stuff we went for a walk to pick up some supplies. Out the back gate, over a precarious wooden bridge, round the lagoon, across a sandbar and up a hill...just to get into the town centre! With just a small grocery store, an off license, a travel shop and a bistro, 'town' offered slim pickings for any kind of supplies but we cobbled enough together for a makeshift lunch and headed back to the cottage.
Around 4 we checked out the hostel bar where the afternoons activity was Killer Pool and free wine. After storming to victory in the first game my prowess with the cue tailed off significantly in the next few frames as i concentrated on making the most of the free wine! An hour or so later everyone had tired of playing and the goon box was empty so it was time to hit the bar. It was still very cheap though (Kate and I were getting mates rates from an English guy, Ryan, working there!) and by 8pm we were smashed! We'd missed the sign-up for dinner so while everyone else ate in the bar we headed back to the cottage to whip up some pasta. It was at that point that Kate decided to attempt to walk through a glass door! After a quick drink on our porch I went inside to start the food, closing the patio door behind me to keep the bugs out. Seconds later Kate followed, but too drunk to see the door was shut, walked straight into it and shattered the glass she was drinking from all over her face! Fortunately the cuts weren't too deep and she found it as funny as I did...despite her wounds. After eating some food to soak up some of the alcohol we headed back to the bar to continue drinking (I got the odd funny look as Kate looked like I'd been knocking her about!) Around midnight, and thoroughly hammered we returned to the cottage to pass out.
Severely hungover, we were up early the next day to visit a cheetah sanctuary. The ten minute drive over a horrendously bumpy road was the last thing my stomach needed and it was all I could do not to throw up! When we got there we were led into a small enclosure where three cheetahs - 2 male, 1 female - took it in turns to greet us. They had been raised in captivity for 4 and a half years and were soon due to be released back into the wild. They were still very friendly though and playful too but we had to be careful when they rolled over as their claws were non-retractable and extremely sharp (I got a few scratches even though they barely touched me!). The cheetahs soon got bored so after half an hour we left them to it and took the bumpy ride home. We were supposed to be going to go to a childrens concert at the local township later that morning but, still feeling the effects of the previous night, we decided we couldn't face it and opted instead for chilling in the sun on the cottage porch!
We made up for our slackness by taking part in some volunteer work in the same township in the afternoon. A scheme run by locals using mostly international volunteers (who had to pay for the experience), it wasn't something that was normally open to hostel guests. But Ryan had mentioned it to us the night before when some of the volunteers had been in the bar and somehow we'd manage to convince them to let us go along. Two minibus-loads of us were driven into the township and dropped off next to a dusty football pitch riddled with holes and piles of cow dung. After a few silly warm up games involving running around pretending to be various jungle animals, we split into two groups - one playing football, one playing rounders. While Kate went for rounders, I opted for the chance to play football for the first time since my injury-induced retirement five years ago. For a while our 'work' didn't seem very much like charity as four overgrown kids delighted in showing off and giving the poor township kids a pasting! However, as the afternoon wore on, the tables slowly turned as more and more kids turned up and the sun took its toll on our ageing limbs. Having been given the runaround for much of the last hour, we finally stopped playing and headed back to the hostel just before the sun went down. My trainers had been well and truly ruined but supposedly I'd done some good for the community while simultaneously managing to sweat out my hangover! Back at the ranch, and after much needed showers, we rewarded our charitable efforts with a Mexican dinner so huge those poor kids could have lived off it for a week!
The next day we checked out and headed for Port St Johns. This time the Baz Bus couldnt take us all the way, instead dropping us off in Mthatha where a shuttle service from our hostel would take us the rest of the way. At least that was the plan...
When we arrived there was no shuttle bus and instead a portly, sixty something year old englishman called Bob was waiting for us with a clapped out old car and an apologetic, bemused expression on his face! It seems the Amapondo owners, an English/Aussie couple, had roped their dad into picking us up on his way to visiting them at the hostel. That would have been fine except his car was crammed full with building gear and there was an American girl also waiting to jump in with us! After a quick call to the hostel, we realised this was a free - and possible the only - way to get there so we had no choice but to make it work. It was a very tight squeeze but with our backpacks on our laps we just about managed to fit. The old guy was really nice too - an expat who had been in SA for over 40yrs, he had plenty of interesting tales to tell about apartheid, life in those times and how much the country had changed since.
Two hours later, after endless winding mountain roads and with the creaking suspension barely able to cope with the endless speed bumps, we finally arrived at Amapondo Backpackers. The owners rewarded us for our troubles with a free drink and for the rest of the night we didn't leave the bar. It was a busy night with locals mingling with guests. As the temperature dropped we went outside to sit by the fire and watched as a stoned local impressively juggled fire sticks without hurting himself. Later we tried our hand at hula-hooping - which bizarrely I was much better at than Kate! Around midnight the party started to die down so we left the fading bonfire and headed for bed.
Surprisingly not too hungover, we had a late breakfast before going on an 'adventure hike' with the hostels tour guide, MC. We were joined on the walk by a young South African couple, a middle-aged expat scouser and two of the dogs from the hostel. The terrain was pretty rugged - through jungle, balancing along rusty water pipes, over slippery rocks and shimmying down makeshift ropes. After an hour or so we reached a small waterfall where we had the opportunity to do some cliff-jumping - which we declined due to the cold water! - and sat for a while chatting while our guide decided to get stoned! When we finally moved on we had a quick go on a rope swing before heading down to the gorge for a bush braai. After another spliff, MC made a makeshift fire and cooked us toasted BLTs with cheese which were surprisingly tasty. A while later we strolled back to the hostel via the beach where locals were partying the weekend away. Randomly we also found the hostels pet donkey wandering the streets so we dragged it back with us!
After a quick change we then drove up into the mountains for sundowners (drinks watching the sunset). At the top was a military airstrip used in the movie Blood Diamond and as we reached it MC said 'this is where we take off' and floored it towards the cliff. It was just me and MC in the car (the others following behind in another car) and I wasn't entirely convinced this slightly crazy, pot smoking local was actually going to brake in time! But brake he did - much to my relief - and we left the car to stunning 360 degree views overlooking the Sullivan and Tessiga peaks and down into the Umzumbivu river After a few beers watching the sunset and setting the world to rights with MC we headed back for dinner. There was live tribal dancing and drum music back at the hostel but even though it was really good, there didn't seem to be much of party vibe afterwards so we went to bed about half 11. Somehow the music still carried on til late and the dorm was really noisy - i had to tell some mental girl to be quiet after she burst into the room at stupid oclock and started talking loudly to herself! - so we didn't get much sleep!
The next day we took a shuttle back to Mthatha. This time it wasn't the owners dad but a local 'chapa' or minibus taxi. Turning up the customary half an hour late we got in with two Yorkshire ladies who had also been staying at the hostel and stacked our bags on the front passenger seat. We thought we'd have the van to ourselves but two minutes later it pulled over to pick up two locals from the side of the road. A minute later we picked up a middle-aged guy clutching a live chicken wrapped in a carrier bag to his chest! And 200m on we picked up a young guy in his Sunday best clutching a bible. This went on and on until the van was completely full, all seats were taken and at least 3 guys were standing up, shoe-horning themselves into the spaces around us! Packed to the brim, the van tore around winding mountain roads, ignoring lane markings and overtaking at will. Dropping people off in random places and picking up new passengers as we went we hit the expressway and blew a tyre! Oddly they were happy for us to stay in the van while one of the passengers (not the driver!) jacked the loaded vehicle and changed the wheel - I say changed, all they actually did was switch the inner and outer tyres around! After two hours, with everyone else dropped off and somehow still in one piece, the crazy journey came to an end in Mthatha.
An hour later the Baz Bus arrived to whisk us to our next stop - Umzumbe. Set in the jungle, The Mantis and Moon was a quirky little hostel featuring teepee dorms, wooden huts, ensuite treehouses and wooden walkways flanked by randomly dressed mannequins. Opting for a treehouse just for novelty value we had a quick drink before heading to bed.