Malgas on the Breede River: where time slows down

Continuing an epic self-supported, stage-by-stage journey on Honda scramblers from Cape Agulhas to Kunene River on the Namibia / Angola Border, Colin Hancox slowly crosses the first significant river on the trip: the Breede River, at Malgas, in the Western Cape.

When we travel at high speed over bridges, storm over rivers, flatten valleys and ignore beautiful scenery, we get ‘there’ faster. Is this magical place called ‘there’ so important that we miss out on the purpose of travel? We always to want to be somewhere else and then we rush back and miss it all again!

Malgas on the Breede River (check out 10 of the Breede River Valley’s best-kept secrets) is a place that counters the desire for speed and being somewhere else. It is just sommer somewhere. To cross the river, there is no bridge to fly over. You have to stop, wait and slow down. Malgas is home to a graceful and timeless pont that slowly provides reliable transport. You can’t storm over the river, you gracefully traverse it taking in the surrounding scenery.

On the south side is a hotel that also has let time slip by. It is a simple family hotel, has no spa, needs no hotspot and coffee is served like, coffee. The evening meals are in the old tradition of a starter, main course and dessert. There is real fish with bones eyes and tail, there is no sushi, there is no fast food, it takes time, it is real and one is satisfied.

The pont is moved by a two person, crosswalk, normal food powered engine comprising of heart, muscle and limbs. They strap their harness onto the sturdy cable and proceed towards where they have just left. Sounds odd, but the pont then slowly moves to the opposite bank.

Malgas is on the lower flat section of the Breede River and houseboats nestle against sandbanks like patient panting Labradors. The traveller has now slowed down to a snail’s pace and can see cars and drivers patiently waiting on the other bank. How is it that we are able to change to patient mode? When we are in the city, a minor interruption in travel causes most drivers to hoot impatiently, veins to start popping, faces to go bright red, language to drop to the lowest level and even fists to fly. Do we slow down because we are on holiday? Do we slow down because of places like Malgas?

The ferry arrives on the other bank without a bump, it seems to merge into the sand and stop. You have arrived. The small journey is over. You can now choose to scream off over the horizon, or amble along the gravel roads enjoying the surrounding scenery and birdlife.

Blue cranes peck away in the harvested fields between the twists and turns of the Southern Cape hills.

Let the pont continue, let the hotel stay in place, let time stand still for a while, let the journey be the main focus. “It is better to travel well than arrive.” From a guest house wall in Darling.