Wood, Uni-Cycles, and Children

At my regular Knysna haunt, Jesters; I met a man named Raoul Potgieter. He is a carpenter, rides a unicycle, teaches people the art of lucid dreaming, is very apt at juggling and rhythm sticks -- to name a few of his talents. He also make wooden toys and medieval weaponry. He often goes to the Sedgefield Farmers Market, as well as Port Elizabeth's Medieval Fayre. He also remembers the time when my brother and I raised R100 to dunk the king at the very first Fayre; though his eyes really shone when he spoke of his love for children, and his desire to broaden their minds.

If you are in the area and what to learn about lucid dreaming, or even just buy a sword for the fun of childish endeavours; get hold of him. If I was still running around with pieces of wood pretending they were swords I would give part of a limb to have a weapon and shield made by this man. So Mothers and Fathers of the of our dear, humble, suburban South Africa: Stop buying your, kids ages five to ten, electronic games. For their next birthday give them three shields, five play-swords and four play-axes; hell even five wooden suits of armour. Trust me, that kid will be more popular than any child with a 52" plasma screen and a PlayStation 3.  Sure one or two of them might get hurt but they are kids; they are meant to fall down, pick themselves up, snivel over a scraped knee, not talk to the child who pushed them for a week then up and be best friends all over again. That's childhood. By the time they are fifteen they will be too embarrassed to run around in fake weapons and have fake wars -- until they go to varsity and start to cos-play that is.

Tel: 083 5744 551
E-mail: raoultheowl@gmail.com

Bloo

In Monument Square, Knysna, you will find the "Bloo" sign above a blue door. Why yes, it is rather unobtrusive. In fact you would not be remiss for not noticing it at first-- but you would be wrong. Behind that door lies a winding pathway, leading from nook to another, up stairs and under draped archways, each with its own charm. The complexity of colour on enhances magic of unfolding spaces. If you want privacy, or a space to interact, there you will find both.

This is a restro-bar with great atmosphere. Sadly they were closed for restoration when I when popped in last, but I was told from more than one source that the food there is fantastic. Many people who have gone there had a great time. It is the type of place you can go out, have a great time, enjoy wonderful food, even let you hair down to the ground, without having to elbow through teenagers to get to the bar. The décor makes you feel like you have walked into a wonderland, or a favourable acid trip. Even if you just want an interesting place to sit down with a book, this is the kind of venue where you can find a comfortable space to do just that.

The place is owned by a well-travelled and interesting couple. They have many tales to tell, and will tell them with a smile. What I found most intriguing was the theatre that they have opened at the venue. They tell me that they will provide it free of charge to any one who wished to use it. Having spent some time among the dramatically inclined, I found this very exiting. Art needs but a space. So if you want to have exhibition, there is a space. If you are a comedian, a musician, an actor, or playwright, at least now you need not worry about finding a space in which to share your discipline. Were I any of the aforementioned I would jump at the opportunity. So for any of you who may be passing through and have something to show the world, now you don't have an excuse to not share it.

I think that what they are is not only admirable but needed. Too much does not get shared because of a lack of space, or opportunity or the choking tape of politics. To open your doors and say, "Here, show us all what you do", is an important step to nurturing the arts. From this, and the aesthetic of the place, I say we should all do our part to support these guys. Let us not sit ideally by and let this endeavour flicker and die. My heart would sink to the gutter if I were to drive past in the near future and find the space vacant. So I hope to see you guys there, hopefully on stage.

So if want to put on a show, use the space or even book the venue for a function, here is their number
Tel: 082 923 1185

I just had to show you bathroom. It is fantastically novel. I had taken a lot more photos, but unfortunately they were lost in a freak formatting accident

Knysna, Till We Meet Again

I am posting this to say my loving farewell to Knysna. I have loved being in this town, and would like to thank every one here that has made my time so special. There is definitely something about the place that will live in my heart always. It is with great reluctance that I head off towards Hermanus and the coastal villages along the way. The N2 shall not keep me its captive; I will find the prettiest way down for all those who enjoy a good scenic route.

Do not think I have told all I have to tell about Knysna. There are still many more stories, some I will have to come back to finish. There is more to come, and more to be told.

If you don't see any new posts, fret not it will be my internet that will be down, not me. If after a week nothing, then start to get worried. Maybe call the police. Though I doubt anything bad will happen. *gulp*
Enough with the spooky, scary talking...

Knysna, I will miss you. Never again will I simply drive through. You deserve more than that.

Jesters Pub

I do like my taverns; of this I am not ashamed. The reason is, simply; the people. A pub environment offers you social interaction with a wide variety of individuals that you would not normally meet, engaging in well-lubricated discourse. Ah, the hyperbolic exclamation of love and appreciation. Oh woe to the sombre drunk who stares into his tankard in the search for a shimmering speck of hope. A pub should not be compared to a club, in which the loud thumping music makes your idle prattle sound like cheeky, witty banter. No my friends, I mean a Pub. Finding a good one is always difficult. In Knysna, I have found mine

Just next to the Knysna library is a little bar called Jesters; not to be confused with the alternative club in Port Elizabeth. Ah what a wonderful place this is. Steven behind the bar is the cocktail of sardonic wit, wells of information and a fine conversationalist if ever I have met one. For all of Knysna's rolling hills and beautiful sunsets, I think I shall miss Jesters the most. I have met some of the most interesting people of my life in that establishment. It keeps drawing me to it by some magic, and the hours melt by, because I do not want to leave.

It helped make Knysna feel like a second home. Thanks to all.

If you want to get the lay of the land, place you finger on the gentle pulse of Knysna; unabated and passionately told, then that is the place to start. And when you do pop your head in there, tell Steven I say hi.

Tuesdays: Backgammon 6pm onwards
Wednesdays: Happy Hour 5-6pm
Thursdays: Ladies' Night 6-9pm
Friday: Happy Hour 5-6pm
Sundays: Come Braai With us
Also: Jenga - Darts - Wicked Cool People
@ Memorial Square - Kynsna

Classics & Cobwebs

I am a sucker for antique shops. In fact second hand-stores in general have a tendency to catch my eye. It's a great way to either hold on to a part of the past, even buy it; or to look through the discarded and attribute new value. In my humble opinion, you get three types of second-hand stores:

The first would hate to be called a second-hand store with the same indignation with which a second-hand car salesmen might refer to the merchandise as "pre-owned". We all know it's second-hand my friend, you are not fooling anyone. This is the type of shop that sell Antiques, but only a few people would understand why it now costs so much more now that it is old. Unless you really understand the little secret tells that makes the pieces authentic, then the appeal may well be lost on you; and the price tag may seem a bit ridiculous no matter how pretty the pieces are.

The second kind of place is the one where you can buy a Mickey Mouse shot-glass for R3. It's the bargain-hunter's kind of place where you rummage around for the odd gem. These places you revisit every month in the hopes of striking second-hand gold. Oh, you don't believe me; you think people don't do this. Well, you are wrong -- I do this. I found a Pair of Weermags for R50; and they still had tread on the soles. These places buy in bulk and sell to the public in a more relaxed vibe. They will have the box full of R5 toys to flog to moaning children as the mother (or starving student) finds a few mismatched knives and forks.

The third is my favourite. It's more of the collectors store. It's the kind of store you walk past, glance inside and just know the stuff in there is cool. It's like it kept a log of all the cool stuff from the past, put in on shelves; donned their leather jacket, put on a pair of Aviators and just looked cool. In stores like that no one with a tweed jacket needs to explain to you why the items on display are worth something, you just know it. It's like a museum of post-awesome, with price tags. Classics & Cobwebs is one of these stores. You walk past and can't help thinking, "Go in, you know you want to." They also supply my favourite second-hand store in Hermanus, which is called 'Romantiques.' If you like epic stuff from days long gone then this place is a must.

Address: 30 Main Road, Die Oude Fabriek, Knysna
Email: classicsandcobwebs@gmail.com

The Heads

I know that I have spoken about the beauty of Knysna. Now, I could tell you about this place; but I methinks my words, elegant as they my be, will simply not be enough. I will, however, tell you that the view almost made me crash my car.

Driving up that road to the Viewpoint will fill you with a strong desire to live there. If you do not want a view like this when you  wake up then you are surely blind, or agoraphobic. The viewpoint provides an expansive view... from many different.... points.

So, I took pictures. Enjoy.

Things I Have Learnt

I thought I would take a moment to reflect on what I have done this far, and most importantly, what I have done wrong.

I am the first to admit that, aside for the physical essentials, I ran into this journey a bit blind. I did not do a single search on the Garden Route, I did not consult any tourism places. I just cruised down the N2 on a rainy day and let my fancy dictate the path. It has advantages; I was not bound my a schedule, I had the freedom to explore at the whim of my interest, and I felt free. Looking back I realise I could have felt all of that even if I had just done a little bit more research into the route I was taking. I shudder to think about all the amazing places I have passed by simply because I did not take the time to find out more. I am already resolute in a return journey to fill the gaps.

I realised the folly of my ways when I went to the Knysna Information Centre. They were friendly, helpful and stated that they do not appreciate things, they .... apprec-love things. I know, just go with it. It was said with a smile and the ethos behind it is a sound community project; besides, I can appreci-love a good pun every now and then. There I got maps, and guides and information about what to see and where to see it that I would not have gotten otherwise. I only wish I had gone earlier, and not just before I leave. Upon reflection I have wasted a lot of time here, but I have been grateful for every moment .

I have also learnt that I am a person of habit. I rather quickly slipped into a routine here in Knysna. I found friends; a favourite coffee shop and bar. Soon I was doing the same kind of things as I did while in Port Elizabeth. When faced with a chance to slide back into a familiar mould, it is rather disconcerting how easily we do just so.

In a trip like this, the draw to the familiar is strong; even if the familiar was why you left. The challenge is to notice it, not in your failure to live up to the exalted ideal of your endeavour, but simply you being you. Remember, a trip by yourself is for yourself. If you want to sit in bed for a week and read Stephen King and feel you can afford to do so; then I don't see why you shouldn't. However, there is a thin line between leisure and atrophy. Try to see something new every day. That helped me kick start myself.

Yet, my funds are draining and the road is calling my name. There are things to see, places to be, and  although I have found a fondness for Kynsna that will always make this place feel like a second home, I shall be leaving soon. Not until I see some more beautiful things though.

First Night in Knysna

After the car debacle during my first night, I thought I should see what a Friday evening in Knysna looks like. So off I went, alone, into the fluorescent unknown.

Oldies
Now this was the first place I was told to check out. A great place by the looks of it. It appears to cater to bikers a lot; or so I gather by the many pictures of bearded leather-clad men by their bikes. The bar staff is friendly, but not the the type of social vibe one looks for when you are alone. The tables are filled with pre-set social groups and some families. So I sat by the bar, making note of the day's events; longing to be back at Bush Bar. Then the strangest thing happened: for the first time during my trip I started to feel lonely. As you are about to find out, that did not last long.

Kings
The locals at Oldies told me to try Kings, and I am glad that they did. It was my kind of bar. Just the right amount of seedy; not to so much that its scummy, but enough to bring in a crowd that are unpretentious and open to conversation. It's important that the clientèle don't take themselves too seriously. The bar-stools are stacked beer crates with cushions. I have to admit I was very partial to the black and red decor, but that's me. I could even excuse the rugby T-shirts on the wall. What's a bar without a bit of sports trimming? Just as I was thinking to myself, "Hmmm, these people look interesting, I would like to get to know them better", this guy turns to me and asks me what I am doing. I was taking notes, so I explained the trip and my intentions, and when finding out I was not there with anyone he graciously invited me to join his table. Chris, you are a legend. At the table I met such gems as Jonty the Jew, and Carl (if you forget his name just ask yourself, what is naked in Afrikaans).

Zanzibar
After many jokes were shared, we headed off to Zanzibar. It is the type of meat-market every town creates when it gets to a certain size. The bigger the town, the more they have. It is some kind of universal law. I was last there a few years back, for the Gay Pride Festival, the Pink Loerie. At the time they had a silhouette of Batman on one of the walls, sadly it is there no longer. So the night continued into the early morning. It was a warm and exiting introduction to Knysna that more than made up for the troubles I had with my car.  

I don't know what to tell you about Zanzibar. We all know these clubs; huge dance floor, a few sections were you can sit on comfy couches and pretend you're not sixteen. Let's see ... there is the balcony; that's a must. There was one thing that really impressed me was the DJ that played some of the score from Star Wars.

Maybe Batman is till there in spirit.

Chaos, Tow Ropes, Log Cabin .... Knysna

Coming into Knysna:

Oh what chaos I have endured. Before I ramble off in powerful euphemisms, let me start from a more palatable point in the story.

In Knysna I am staying with an old friend of mine. She runs Rape Outcry; with whom I have been a member for many years. She does amazing work, and just got accepted to do a Masters' program in Clinical Psychology. I am very proud of her, she truly deserves it. The thing is though, her place is just out of Knysna. Unless you know where you are going it can be a bit tricky to find, as I discovered the hard way. After five U-turns, and four attempted gravel roads leading to increasing obscurity, something horrific happened. My car got stuck in the mud that resulted from the week-long rain. The sun was setting and all I could do was run to the golf estate, find a house that had a bakkie parked in the driveway, put on a face of saddened trustworthiness; and ask if they would be kind enough to give me a tow. Fortunately I had all the rope required. You always need rope, lots of it. Never go anywhere without it.

Luckily the people at the first door I knocked on were kind enough to help me. The gentleman (a quantity surveyor with a wife and two young kids) asked me enough questions to ascertain that I was not planning an elaborate heist. It ranged from where I lived to what I studied. Lo and behold he had gone to the same university as I.

The first two attempts to pull my car from the sludge resulted in a snapped tow rope. Eventually I took a second length of rope and used it to reinforce the other; and to my great relief I was free -- albeit rather muddy. I thanked him for all his trouble and forced myself not to jump into the driver's seat and hug him in an overtly manly gesture of Bro-Love.

Eventually I found my friend's place, and my goodness un-gracious me; it was picturesque to the point of silliness. A little log-cabin in the middle of a farm/forest which runs on gas and solar-power. It's enough to make any eco-Nazi shudder with glee. After such an ordeal I hear the fluorescent beckoning of the bar. So it was off to see what happened in Knysna when the sun went down.

The Bush Pub

Now just before you get to Knysna (as you head to CT) on your left hand side, you will see a sign that says "Bush Pub". Now I know I have said this before, but this time I mean it (as well) but you must stop here. The sign boasts a friendly environment, and there is no need for a caveat, as it provides just that. From the moment I walked it, I felt at home. Stories flow like pap-sak at a Bergie's wedding. Oh, there are politics; but always with the type of familiarity that reminds me of a sibling's quarrel. As I have mentioned before, a bar is made by the people who frequent it, and Bush Pub has real gems. If you sit there for two beers you're bound to learn something or just get roped into a conversation, and soon you realise you are conversing with the kind of familiarity that come surprisingly naturally.

I discovered (though not through consumption) a new drink: the TnT; tequila and top-shelf (brandy and coke). Obviously not in the same glass, mind you. I also learned about the bartender's heritage. So let me tell you the story of the O'Hagins:
They were land pirates. In other words, they would put lanterns on the horns of cattle so that passing ships would think they see a village and sail towards it, only to get smashed against the rocky shoreline. After that the pillaging would ensue. They came to South Africa to escape being hung. Epic.

The Bush Pub easily sits in my top 3 bars to visit. It's small and intimate and is by no means a place to try and badge. They even have a membership, which entitles you to cheaper drinks and rewards you with a useful key chain. It guarantees loyalty. So to all you bar owners: R300 per annum membership; make it happen.

Pretty Knysna

There are few South Africans worth their salt who don't know that Knysna is a beautiful place. It inspired the works of Dalene Matthee, thus giving us Kringe in 'n Bos. It is the gem of the Garden Route; whose forests have given the world fabulous tables and desks. Oh, any poet can wax lyrical about the rolling mountains, the lush forests, the subtle greens, the stunning beaches or the majesty of the lagoon and the waterfront. Photographers have tried and failed to completely capture the grandeur of its beauty. So, who cares?

This is all known; so you may be asking yourself what the hell is this guy's purpose to rant about it? Ah; well I am glad I asked for you: it's the people. Yes, you read correctly. Did they read Frank Miller's 300 and take things a bit too far? Because I have yet to see a person under 30 in town that was not in some way appealing. Even the car-guards aren't that bad. Even what goes for an ugly person in Knysna is well-dressed; and in the right light, after a beer or two, is anyone's game. I am accustomed to the odd minger here and there, but I am just not seeing them; and it is rather unsettling -- in a good way. 

I can only suppose that there is a group of people that hunt down new arrivals to this town; and if they don't meet up to the 'pretty' standard, then they get kindly asked to leave. Perhaps with cattle-prods. Seeing as people have been friendly and forthcoming to me I can only assume I am good-looking enough to reside in this town. Whether or not that's true, I shall choose believe it; if only to feed my ego.

There is another puzzling element to this town that I had not known: people here are friendly, very much so in fact. I go out, easily strike up a conversation, and have a good night. Now I may be an easy-going guy; and I may be easy to get along with, but that only gets a person so far. Within almost no time at all I felt at home in this town with mutantly attractive people... that may not have come out the way I intended.

So I ask you unfortunate-looking people out there (whom I am sure have stunning personalities), have you found you stay in Knysna to be a pleasant one; or did mean-looking people with pitchforks and torches kindly ask you to leave?

The Heath

As you get nearer to Knysna (going to CT) or just as you are leaving it (running away from CT), on the N2 you pass a place with weird things on the lawn -- a place called the Heath. Now you will need to pull over. I am not asking nicely; I am telling you to. Just try to fight against the sub-hypnotic-pretextual-suggestions in this post, I dare you. But all poorly-executed attempts at humour aside, this is a great place to stop off; especially if you have kids. There are enough things for them to climb on, crawl under, and space to run their little batteries flat so they don't bounce for the rest of your trip to the point that you overdose on Grandpa's (or was that just me).

They have a quaint little coffee-shop to recharge your own batteries (you can't drink your kid's energy because its unethical, and I know I always mess it all over my shirt). They even sell amazing wood products and special cheeses. If your soul needs a bit of a spit and polish, you can always walk through the ... Lavender Labyrinth. I am as much a fan of alliteration as any man, and applaud its many uses; but seriously guys. There are clear gaps in the labyrinth where people got fed up and just walked out. Now I am quite sure that taking a few minutes away from everything, walking in the same repetitive motion; and the subsequent auto-hypnotic effect that kicks in (like when you drive a road you know very well) can be quite soothing. I just don't think it needs cosmic flows and moon cycles of the introverted lilies to explain itself (excuse me if the imagery seems a bit suspect). Any menial task can be described to the point of divinity; even walking around in circles it would seem.

But the best bit of all is still to come. Radical Raptors. In fact, I think it deserves it own post.

Lunar Cafe

Sorry again for the break in chronological consistency, which by now may seem some what facile. The thing is, I spent the last few days molesting the free Wi-Fi at Lunar Cafe and thought it only fitting that I do some guilt-inspired plugging as well as touch on something I consider rather important.

After much meditation, introspection and wasted afternoons I have come to understand what makes a good coffee shop. Firstly; and this will get me some sideways glances, it needs a smoking section. Even it is just some tables outside. Coffee and cigarettes are so inextricably connected there is even a movie about it (starring Iggy Pop and Tom Waits ). Secondly, it needs free Wi-Fi. Chill out all you hipsters, this is because almost all mobile devices worth their salt can use wireless connections, and it turns a coffee shop into a second office. Our dependency for an Internet connection has drug-pushers worldwide taking furious notes. And lastly, it needs coffee. But I mean good coffee. The type of coffee that has every cup making you awkwardly asking a stranger to watch your stuff as you contemplate your life in a newly-found oval ceramic god. That's good coffee.

Lunar Cafe has all of the above. They even have a great loyalty card that gives you a free cup of coffee after every nine you have. For most avid coffee drinkers that won't take too long. You can find them at the Knysna Mall, shop Z2-09 (whatever that means). They also have really cool postcards. If any of you want me to send you one, with a nice little handwritten message, just leave your addresss in the comment section below.