The sand in my teeth makes a crunching sound every time I close my mouth. I don’t like it. I wrinkle my nose and bite down experimentally. It feels like it’s coming from somewhere deep down in my auditory canal. I shake my head, running my hands through my hair to try and get rid of some of the sand that’s taken up residence there. Sadly, there’s nothing I can do about the light film that’s covering my body. The suntan lotion that I studiously applied 40 minutes before hand has somehow bonded with my sweat to create the perfect epoxy, so that I seem to have grown a thin, sandy shell all over my body – so sandy, I can even write the word sand – much like some species of crab that camouflage themselves in this way. I wonder if they have this crunching problem too?
I blow the hair out of my eyes and continue my arduous and very slow trek up the sand dune. Sand mountain. Will this never end? The sun is unforgiving and I hope my sand-crab-layer is also an anti-UV layer, maybe I shouldn’t be scratching it off.
As I reach the top, I stop for a moment as an undeserved sense of victory washes over me, and turn to survey my reward. The ocean stretches out in front of me, glistening in the early morning sun, as blue as forget-me-nots. This was worth the drive. Maybe not the walk up the hill though. Suddenly, I hear excited yet nervous laughter – well it’s really more keening than laughter – and the sound of someone approaching at speed. Its Luke, face contorted into either a grin or a grimace – it’s hard to tell. One long, drawn-out expletive later and he’s shot past me, over the ridge and down the very dune I just slogged up. Is he going to make it? He’s going to make it! He…didn’t make it… The unmistakable thump of someone landing face-first in the sand reaches me. Followed by a relieved ‘I’m-still- alive!’ chuckle. Somewhere, far down at the bottom of the dunes, people clap at his misfortune: “Woohoo! Nice one!”
Herman’s next; and faster. He’s done alot of snowboarding and manages to make the turn, looking mildly smug as he pelts down the hill, carving the sand like a pro. He even slows down as he gets to the group waiting at below, but then it seems stopping is not really his forte, and he too ends his run in a horizontal manner.
But no one can beat Sebastiaan in the wipe-out department. He seems to have taken a liking to it. That’s all that explains his continued determination to aim his board 90degrees down the slope with complete disregard for precision or control and pick up speed until the inevitable – and often very cringe-worthy – face plant. I should really upload this to Youtube, I think, as once again he cartwheels face-first into a sandbank. Ouch.
What are we all doing here, at 10 o’clock on a Saturday morning, halfway up a mountainous sand dune in Betty’s Bay? Well, to understand how we got here, you first have to understand my weakness for sales. I’ve always been a sucker for those four giant red letters: S-A-L-E. I can’t resist. Its basically like making money! Isn’t it? (Yes, that’s why I’m not an economist). So when I discovered that something I’d never had any interest in doing was suddenly available for half the usual price, but only for the next 12 hours…make that 11 hours 54 minutes, I immediately jumped at the chance to buy it. So here we were: Sandboarding. Who would have thought it. I call it The Groupon Effect, and it wasn’t just us. The social-buying phenomenon was evident as I looked around at my dune-mates: 14 strangers all covered in sand, wondering how they got here, but enjoying the novelty of falling over at speed.
“They’re faster than me,” I lament to our instructor, Kyle, nodding my head towards my friends. This is, of course, a devious, diversionary ploy to come off sounding brave and adventurous and like I actually wish I was the one imitating the Tony Hawk of the dunes, when in truth, I’m quite happy to slide slowly down to the bottom, closing my eyes and squealing all the way. But Kyle didn’t need to know that.
“Not for long!” he says, calling my bluff. “Come with me.”
“Oh, but, well,” I stutter, “that’s ok.” I had just developed a stand-up-slide-2m-fall-over-manouvre that I was quite happy to continue. It was fun…well, it was safe.
“We’re going to go down together.”
“Together?” I looked suspiciously at the 1m long board, imaging what acrobatic, cirque-du-soleil-esque feats he could have in mind.
“Sit here,” Kyle commanded, pointing at the middle of the board, between the bindings.
I sat. Confused. Maybe we were going to have a rest. That wouldn’t be bad.
“Put your feet on the nose,” he said, sitting behind me on the back of the board, his feet under my knees. I did as I was told. Still confused.
“You ready?” he asked, “I’ll steer”
“Umm…ok…but how will we…” but we were already off, hurtling off down the dune at break-neck speed, much faster than any of the sandboarders.
I laughed out loud, wide-eyed as I watched the bottom of the dune rushing towards us.
“Uh-oh…” Kyle mumbled as the ground levelled out below us.
“Waa..” I shut my eyes tightly, scrunching up my face and closing my mouth in an exaggerated manor. And then it was over. We skidded to a stop in a wave of sand, just meters away from the wall of fynbos that marked the end of the dunes.
“Ok…that was awesome…” someone near us announced, and with that, sandbogganing was born.
The rest of the morning was spent in a similar fashion. Traipsing as far up the dunes as our lungs would allow, and then speeding back down to the bottom in all manner of disrepair – laughing – only to dust ourselves off and do it all over again.
The verdict? Sandboarding is awesome – great fun for anyone who can climb a dune and doesn’t mind looking a bit ridiculous, face down in the sand. And trust me, it’s not if you fall over, but when. It’s slower and more stable than its snowy counterpart – but you’re also less likely to get lost on a frozen hillside or kidnapped by the abominable snowman and forced to sew wooly mittens for the rest of your days. Ok, so I have an overactive imagination, but go sandboarding – you’ll like it. (and go sandboggoning – you’ll like it even more).
As for me, I’ll definitely be checking out the local Groupon site next time I’m travelling. Just imagine the unexpected adventures you could stumble across at your chosen destination…but only if you buy it in the next 11 hours and 23 minutes…
We were lucky enough to go sandboarding with Sidewinder Adventures, who were great. Tours are R300 a person and last 3 hours, but they often have specials on Groupon/Citymob or one of the many other social-buying sites where you can then take two people for that price. Their standard trip is to the dunes at Atlantis, but if I were you, I’d request Betty’s Bay and travel the extra few kms to get there – the view is spectacular and the dunes much more wild and unknown.
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