14. Begha River to Old Woman's River

13. Begha River Mouth to Old Woman's River

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17 August 2019

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shedding layers early...

 

This hike was planned to coincide with the EP vs. Border Ladies golf weekend at Port Alfred. Cath was booked in at "Port Alfred Sands" for the weekend (using her Timeshare points) and shared the accommodation with some of her team players. The plan was for Cath to drop me off at Begha River Mouth before the golf tournament started on Saturday morning, and I would walk back to Fish River Golf Club, where she would collect me on Sunday after the tournament. I planned to sleep under the stars on Saturday night, carrying my large rucksack and sleeping bag.

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Cath dropped me off at Begha River Mouth in cold, rainy weather, and I covered myself with a thin yellow plastic poncho before setting off at about 07:30. The wind was strong, and quickly the poncho started tearing, becoming more of a nuisance than a help. After 30 minutes, I stopped, removed the poncho, and continued on with only my black Boardwalk windbreaker. The beach stretched for kilometers with no sign of life—not even birds or crabs running on the sand. At 08:24, I took two photos to capture the desolation and vastness of the walk—one showing where I had come from and the other showing what still lay ahead. Luckily, it was low tide, and the sand was hard along the water’s edge, allowing me to make better progress than expected. The weather improved as the rain stopped, though the wind continued to blow strongly from the sea. It was a monotonous walk, and at one point, I turned back to take a photo of my footprints in the sand.

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At 09:00, I spotted the remains of an old fishing boat, and again, I took photos to show the endless sand dunes and the smooth beach, with no footprints or litter in sight. As I passed the Mgwalana cottages with the bridge across the river and the national road in the background, I was relieved to see that the river mouth was closed, and my feet stayed dry. I continued on and  at 09:50am I stopped for a rest and something to eat. I unpacked my "breakfast," which consisted of a tin of bully beef, dry bread, and Oros drink mix. After the break, I got back on my feet, knowing that the good walking surface was allowing me to cover far more distance than expected. Initially, I had only planned to reach Mpekweni Resort on the first day.

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At 10:16am, I passed the Mtati River cottages, which blended into the surrounding trees and bush along the shoreline. That river mouth was also closed, and again, the sand dunes and kilometers of beach stretched ahead. The tide was now slowly turning toward high tide, which would be at 16:00. Suddenly, without warning (or maybe I was in my own world), Mpekweni Resort came into view, with the road and bridge across the river in the background. It was only 11:00, and although the sky remained grey, the hard beach surface made for easy walking. The tide was still low, so I decided not to stop but to continue as far as possible before setting up camp for the night.

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At 11:30am, I came across another shipwreck graveyard, with heavy rusted metal pieces scattered across the beach. The walk was becoming more tiring as small waves kept chasing me to higher ground. When a large sand dune blocked my view, I remembered my experience at Woody Cape and knew I had to slow down and conserve my energy. I had already passed my planned overnight spot, so every step forward was a bonus. When I reached the bottom of the dune, I found a sheltered spot out of the wind and decided to take a nap at 11:45. I had been walking nonstop for over 4 hours and estimated I had already covered more than 20 km.

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I must have rested for about an hour before scrambling over the sand dune to see what lay ahead. No surprises—just more kilometers of sand. However, far on the horizon, I could see Fish River Mouth (Gibraltar Rock) coming into view. This gave me more motivation to push ahead, thinking that I might be able to camp near or even on the golf course that night. The wind was picking up, and the sea was getting rougher. Lots of foam appeared in the waves before washing up onto the beach. My walk became more difficult because of the incoming tide, and soon my calves and Achilles tendons began to hurt. I didn’t have my trusted walking stick, so I had to take smaller steps to protect my muscles. I didn’t wear a cap that day, as the wind was too strong, and the sun never came out.

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At 13:50, I reached a point where the beach narrowed and saw a path leading toward a man building a wooden structure among the trees. I followed the footpath to a few abandoned buildings near the 16th hole of the golf course. I recognized the location right away, as I had played many rounds of golf there before. I took off my rucksack, snapped some photos, and explored the buildings to find a suitable place to roll out my sleeping bag for the night. I felt relieved that I would be sheltered from the wind and potential rain. The buildings had the name "Castaway" painted on them, and I realized it must have been a beach camp or entertainment area associated with the Fish River Sun Hotel. The site included braai areas, volleyball courts, table tennis, restrooms, and a large hall. Some doors were locked, while others had been vandalized, with no doors or windows. It was clearly no longer in use but was exceedingly useful to me!

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I ventured a bit further around the buildings and found a signpost for Historical Trails, including British Soldiers’ graves and other interesting look-out spots. At 14:15, a uniformed security officer in a security 4x4 vehicle approached me and asked what I was doing and where I had come from. I explained my hike and my intention to sleep in the abandoned building, but he immediately told me I was trespassing. He said that unless I was a hotel resident, I would be arrested. I responded in Xhosa, explaining that I wasn’t aware of the hotel boundaries and hadn’t climbed over any fence or gate to leave the beach. He informed me that I had triggered hidden security cameras when I entered the abandoned building and that he was obligated to investigate. Due to ongoing vandalism, I was not allowed to stay in the area, only in the hotel itself.

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I didn’t have enough money for a hotel room, so I told him I would arrange to spend the night at the hotel. I packed up my rucksack and started walking across the golf course toward the hotel. The guard followed me in his vehicle but refused to give me a lift, as he wasn’t allowed to transport people. I reached the hotel around 15:00, walking past reception and down to the Pro Shop, where I spoke with the manager on duty. He could arrange accommodation, but it was a busy weekend, and the cost was more than R1,500.

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I decided to call Cath and ask if she could pick me up at the main entrance of Fish River Golf Resort, and fortunately, she agreed. I walked past the security checkpoint on my way to the national road, laid down on my rucksack for almost an hour, and waited for Cath and her friend Lulu to pick me up. 

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Another chapter down - and a reminder that sometimes shedding the poncho means that I can walk slightly lighter and remembered that this is how it is in life also: that often what I think I need for my own protection might be the very thing that is keeping me from making quicker progress.

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