For the first time in quite a while we faced a situation similar to what we have done for the rest of the trip – arriving somewhere new! The effect was mitigated by the fact that we got a lift up in Dixon's rustmobile along with Sal. The Dixon effect was added to by his attempt at parking on our arrival in Stellenbosch. Setting the scene: the space was around 10 metres long and Dixon claimed “I'm not very good at parallel parking”. None of the persons present were to expect the show that followed. After a few backwards-and-forwards manoeuvres that led nowhere, I got out of the car and started to gesticulate helpfully to help Dixon into the space, to no avail. The car in front then moved, as it apparently had a woman waiting inside who decided to extend Dixon's space to around 13 metres. Further gesticulation coupled with an amused grin. M got out and gesticulated further. The woman in front moved further. Parallel parking attempts continued unabated, and still to no avail. M and I began laughing outwardly. The woman in front then got out of her car and asked “can he actually drive?”. Dixon finally managed to park (in a manner of speaking) and Sal and I ran towards a backpackers that Dixon had recommended. It was full, but the manager reserved us a couple of beds somewhere else. With smirks on their faces, Sal and I ran back through the rain to the car – Dixon would have to pull out again and go somewhere else. To Dixon's immense relief, there was a huge empty area in front of the Banghoek Place hostel, and without further ado we checked in for the night.
The outrageously large parking space. In his defence, it was raining.Dixon and Mav had lived in Stellenbosch for a while and so we were given a guided tour of Bosch's nightlife – firstly at the Stumble Inn backpackers which we'd tried to check into earlier and then to a place called the “Social Café”, where we caught up more, and then witnessed one of the highlights hit the trip – Sal was interrupted in a sentence he was half way through by a bicycle rack which he had failed to spot in the darkness of the South African night, and went flying into the air, picking himself up with a look of total bewilderment. All were concerned and calm, aside from me who found the whole thing hilarious and was concerned yet laughing my arse off for quite a while to come. When calm had descended again on the quiet streets of Stellenbosch, we hit the road back to the hostel and snoozed like babies. I managed to wake up early to go to the toilet although his attempts at going back to sleep were interrupted by thoughts of Sal from the previous night which sent me into fits of uncontrollable giggles which prevented me from sleeping any more and turned me into a tired wreck for the rest of the day.
Dixon receives a package from jolly olde England. Tune in next week to see what the package contained...Banghoek Place was nice enough but a bit of a trek out of town, and as soon as we heard that Mav had got a job in a town centre hostel called iKhaya, we upped camp and Dixon gave us a lift into town to settle into our new home (cheers Dixon!). The next day was utterly ruined by a lack of ability to get up early and we only emerged in the early afternoon for a wander around town. “Shall we go for one beer at Bohemia?” suggested M. It was to be only that, until Mav texted his intentions to have a wild night out. We'd be very welcome to join, apparently – and who were we to turn down such a kind invitation? The quiet and civilised evening turned into a decadent night of barhopping through most of Stellenbosch's party venues, featuring such fantastically South African named bars as the Mystic Boer and the Springbok, and terminated at the distinctly non-South African venue of McDonald's. Mav's attempts to order a normal sized Big Mac meal took around 10 minutes due to McWaitress' completely inability to comprehend what was in fact a very simple order, and mine was completely misunderstood as “I'll have the same as him [points at Mav]” landed me with the same as M. Mav managed to depart the booth with a disappointed/disgusted closing shot of “you f@*king retard”, to the great amusement of all. The fact that I failed to realise that we were at the entrance of the hostel we were staying at would give some indication of how short the night was before Dixon came to pick us up to drive us across the pass to Franschhoek. Possibly for further festivities.
The view from iKhaya. We will return next week...
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