Day Two: Kindness

Right now I am in a Bnb in Queenstown, listening to The Whitest Boy Alive, drinking wine out of a tall glass and eating lukewarm tuna salad out of a lunch-box with a spoon. It's cold and loneliness keeps on trying to creep up on me. But to be completely honest, I haven't felt this content in a really, really long time.

Today was not as adventurous as yesterday but it was still awesome in it's own way. I had two interviews, one with a Grey de Villiers in Adelaide and another with the Robinson's in Tarkastad. These people not only allowed me into their homes, offered me coffee and a bed for the night (which I had to decline due to Journ 4 applications which needed to be completed...argh), but they showed me a kindness that moved me to tears.

They had no obligation to help me out in any way but they did. They did more than just help me. They restored my faith in humanity; in this country. I don't even know how to explain it but I am truly touched by how nice people can be. Maybe it is because I struggle to be nice; both to strangers and to the ones I love. I am impatient and insecure and this leads me to shut people out and it is just not fair. And I think this is one of the reasons I am on this trip: so that I can learn that being nice doesn't hurt. Caring won't make me any less of a person or whatever other bullshit excuse I have in mind.

I don't have much to tell you except that there really are good people out there, and if we were all just a little nicer the world would be a better place.

Grey de Villiers, former Genetics lecturer at the University of Fort Hare in his home at 

31 Market Street, Adelaide, Eastern Cape. 2013.

Gwyneth and John Robinson outside their home on 11 Southey Road, Tarkastad, 

Eastern Cape. 2013

Day One: Surprising adventures

I left Grahamstown at around 9.00 am this morning with mediocre excitement and a lot of stress, but lucky for me that all quickly slipped away as I let the road take control of my mind. I drove for about six hours and only covered about 180 km. LOL.

My first stop was at an adorable farm stall just outside Fort Beaufort called Baddaford Farmstall. They have a fine selection of cake, jam, sweets, and gifts and mostly local produce which is great! Local is mos lekker. And they have a few lovely paintings by J. Atkinson, a local artist and family member of Louise (who I will tell you about soon) as well as cards painted by the same artist. I bought one. It's pretty.

I got chatting to a few of the ladies working there and they are the ones behind today's adventures. First, they informed that me Post Retief, where Piet Retief used to live, is just up the road and that I should go see it. And second, the one lady named Louise gave me a number for a history enthusiast in Fort Beaufort who knows a lot about the area before and during the Great Trek. His name is Gert and I just had a very interesting interview with him which is going to make my final article beautiful. YAY! Thank you Louise and Gert!

Lesson number one: Always talk to people. They won't bite.

Anyways, the reason for my many hours spent in the car and little distance covered is because I basically drove half-way to Post Retief, thought I was going the wrong way, turned back, realised I was in fact going the right way, and then went back that same way. Eish. The ladies at the farm stall warned me that the road was bumpy. BUMPY IS AN UNDERSTATEMENT. It was up not one mountain, but about three, through the bush and veld, and there were massive potholes and narrow bridges and mud and, oh yes, it was a dirt road. So I pretty much drove on a dirt road for about four hours. I am sorry Frankie!

And, just to add to the deliciousness of the situation, after I had driven for about two hours, killing my poor blue baby, I got to a sign that said 'Piet Retief House- 50m' and you know what was 50m from that sign? A monument that said, 'This is where Piet Retief's house used to be'. LAME. All that way for a monument. Flip. Well, it was a good experience anyways. I took some pretty photos and did my first hand-break turn while trying to take a photo of a secretary-bird. Such fun.

Tomorrow I am heading to Adelaide to meet a former History Professor from the University of Fort Hare. Should be interesting.

Just outside Baddaford Farmstall, Fort Beaufort, Eastern Cape. 2013. 

Me in front of Piet Retief's 'house', Post Retief, Eastern Cape. 2013.

One of the views from the 1820 Settlers barracks, Post Retief, Eastern Cape. 2013.

The secretary bird that almost killed me (not really), Post Retief, Eastern Cape. 2013.

My fake red vellies: the only pair of shoes I brought with, Post Retief, Eastern Cape. 2013.

I think this one speaks for itself, Post Retief, Eastern Cape. 2013.

Frankie: My blue ox-wagon

The Great Trek: 175 years later

TASK: Write a 5 000 word non-fiction article

IDEA: Redo the Great Trek

AIM: Find some resemblance of an answer to the question: Who am I?

MISSION: 1175 KM (roughly)

175 years ago over 15 000 semi-nomadic boers packed their jawbone-shaped ox-wagons and headed for the unknown- the interiors of Southern Africa. Similar to these determined trekkers who left their homes in search of new life, I am leaving my home in search of a new beginning.

Following voortrekker leader Piet Retief's route as closely as possible, I will embark from Grahamstown on the 14th of August 2013 (tomorrow) and head for Pietermaritzburg. Driving in my blue Hyundai Getz, Frankie (named after 'ol blue eyes, Frank Sinatra), I will explore the rural Eastern Cape, the Orange Free State, and end my trek in the fertile land of KwaZulu-Natal.

I hope to get some clarity on where I stand on my identity as an Afrikaner and I not only want to try and answer the question, 'who am I' but also, 'am I or am I not an Afrikaner.' I hope that by travelling in the footsteps of my ancestors the answers to these questions will become more clear. My only plan is to get from Grahamstown to Pietermaritzburg in 10 to 12 days. I have not booked any accommodation, and I have no idea what awaits me. Just like my ancestors did not know what awaited them all those years ago.

This project is part of an assignment for my Writing and Editing Course in which I have to write a 5 000 word non-fiction article on any topic of my choice (this is my fourth and final year as a Journalism student at Rhodes University in Grahamstown, Eastern Cape). This blog is a digital diary of my trek- what I see, what I discover, what I lose, what I gain, what I hope for, and what I fear.

If you have any comments, advice, or ideas that you would like to share, check the Contact page.