Garden Route-ing

We started our trip driving out to Mossel Bay, hitting crazy weekend traffic out of Cape Town and waiting another hour outside of...while Sarah’s dad (who is a doctor) helped at a really horrible car crash. Driving extremely carefully after that, we finally arrived at our hostel well past midnight. The guy there was not overjoyed to be woken up and was even less pleased when our group inadvertently took too long of showers by South African drought season standards.

The next morning was met with a slight drizzle and grey skies, but slowly brightened and the sun began to peek out by the time we had eaten our pizza for breakfast at a local Italian place right on the water. We spent a long time after breakfast splashing in the shallow waters and collecting brightly colored shells. Sometimes, it’s good to let the inner children out to romp around every once and a while.

We hopped back in the car, pumped up the road trip music and headed onward.

Our second hostel was THE place to be in this small town outside of Knysna, which appeared only to survive because of tourism. The town seemed to only consist of hostels. All the locals and travellers mingle our by the car, hang out by the fire pit while drinking and braai-ing.

Next morning, after little sleep because our dorm was conveniently located right next to the bar, half our group went bungee jumping, while a few of us went white water tubing and rock jumping. While on the river, I fell out of my tube and slammed my leg into a rock--which resulted in a bruise of EPIC proportions. It looked pretty badass for weeks.

Afternoon was spent lying on a beach in the national park and hiking up to the swinging bridge. Monday we went cave exploring and took the long drive back to Cape Town—stopping at a road side store where I re-stocked my dried fruit obsession.

Do I need to reiterate how tough my life is at the moment?