15. Begha River to Keiskamma River Mouth
20 December 2019
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15. Begha River Mouth to Keiskamma River
20 - 21 December 2019
showing up... walking on...
This hike had been on the cards for months, but because the start and end destinations are in the middle of nowhere, transport had always been a problem. However, Darryl informed me that he had a KFC promotion planned for Saturday, 20th December, and he was going to use the KFC Transporter full of promotion items and banners. He offered to drop me off at Begha River (from where I had hiked before to the Fish River) on the Friday afternoon, and then collect me at Hamburg the following day on his return from East London. I immediately packed my old rucksack with minimal supplies, as I had to take a sleeping bag for a night out under the stars.
We left Port Elizabeth late and only arrived at the Bigga River turnoff at about 18:45. We were stopped at the main guarded entrance gate to the resort, but I was allowed to walk down the road for about 2 km until I reached the picnic spot at the river mouth (where Cath had dropped me off four months earlier). I had hardly rolled my sleeping bag out when it started raining, and I had no choice but to move into the small ablution building. The rain never stopped throughout the night, and I was forced to make my bed on the cold cement shower floor. It was a long, uncomfortable night, but at least all my belongings and I remained dry until first light the next morning.
At 4:30am, it started to get light outside, and I eagerly got up, took a few photos of my "bedroom," and carried everything to a nearby wooden bench. The sky was still heavily overcast, and more rain was predicted for the day. However, I repacked my entire rucksack, dressed warmly in my black windbreaker, and set off towards Hamburg at 05:20am.
This hike was done on the spur of the moment, and I did not check any tides beforehand. The sand was soft, the sky was grey, and the sea was dark and rough, but I knew I had to make peace with my surroundings and fully commit to the task ahead. There was absolutely nothing to look at on the beach, and total visibility was about 200 meters in all directions. A fine mist of rain persisted, and after more than an hour of walking, I finally spotted something in the mist. It was a wind sock, and I later found out that the local fishermen launch their boats from that isolated spot.
The walk was boring with no horizon, and I kept myself motivated by finding all kinds of seaweed that the rough sea washed out. The photos clearly show that some coral was still attached to some of the seaweed, confirming the rough seas I could hear (although I had no vision beyond the shallow waves). The beach also had some interesting sand formations, as sand washed away in places and formed little tables and small streams as the tide changed.
At 07am, I found a large tree stump on the beach and, for the first time, actually had something to sit on. So far, it had been nothing but sand — no rocks, no form of life, not even a bird. It started to rain harder, and I decided to put my phone in a Tupperware container as I was soon completely soaked. The rest of the walk was very tough. Although it was flat terrain, the sand composition varied, with stretches of very soft fine sand changing to wet, hard surfaces on a regular basis. I can truly say it was a walk of endurance, no enjoyment, and no interaction with nature—a cold, grey, and wet day with no visibility.
It took another four hours before I finally reached the Hamburg Lifesaving Club. I unpacked my wet belongings, changed my clothes and socks, and headed up a steep road to find a coffee shop or bar. However, even here, I was challenged with small roads that went up and down steep hills, and no shop in sight. Finally, a patrolling police van came by and directed me towards the Hamburg caravan park. I found a coffee shop, but it was busy closing up at 13:00, and they told me the staff had already left. It was raining again, and my "new" clothes were now becoming more wet.
I carried on walking and eventually found another abandoned ablution building near the entrance of the caravan park. So, there I was, back in a toilet looking for shelter—a hike from toilet to toilet, with a miserable day in between. I sat in that building, eating and drinking all my leftover provisions until Darryl finally arrived at 16:00 to collect me. Tthe truck was so loaded that I hardly fit in the back, but I managed to find a soft spot and lay under covers all the way back to Port Elizabeth. At least I was warmer and sheltered from the rain. Not a hike I would like to repeat and a reminder that sometimes we walk for the plain fact that if we want to complete something, we need to keep showing up for it and I cannot make peace with an unlived life - nor with an unwalked walk…
