We rolled into Burgersdorp still smiling. Sweaty, dusty and unbelievably sun beaten from the Boesmanberge, we had a contact in town so we knew we were not far from a hot shower!
Our contact was Mrs Charlotte Venter, mother of our next contact Anina de Beer in Aliwal North. We arrived at her house just on five in the afternoon. We were shocked when we met Mrs Venter. She is a minute lady, who has a heart and energy of a twenty year old.
We were barely unpacked and we had a beer in our hand and began chatting to Tannie Charlotte. The more she spoke, the more we realised that this was a cool granny. She brought us more beers and topped up her “knersie” of brandy and coke. Once we retired it was close to eleven o’clock. Such a remarkable lady and unbelievable hostess. We battled to leave early the next day because we had a breakfast large enough to feed a Trojan army. Once we managed to hit the road it was 9:00. We headed to Aliwal North where we were to meet Tannie Charlotte’s daughter, Anina.
The ride to Aliwal North was a breeze, until I had a blow out 5 kilometers from town. A minor and common occurrence when cycle touring,l eft Marc patiently waiting in the roadside gutter while I patched the tube. We managed to smile through the incident and reach Aliwal North in time for lunch.
We met Anina at the Pam Golding office. Her son Henry took us out to their farm, home of the Toll Inn. The Inn is situated on the Kraai River next to the historic Lady Grey bridge which gave rise to the inn’s name.
The De Beers welcomed us into their home and insisted we have a rest day and spend the weekend with them. We were taken into town by Henry and we got all our odds and ends for repairing my pannier rack which had started playing up.
We were given the tour of all the watering holes in Aliwal North. Ending at the Calabash to watch the Sharks take down the Brumbies.
We ended our rest day with a family braai, the generosity and sincerity around the dining table that night was so overwhelming as we laughed and shared our stories. Marc had us all in stitches with his analogy on homesickness.
“All I need to do is shake-shake some Aromat on my tongue and that taste takes me straight home.”
We rolled over the Orange River bridge into the Free State, stomachs full and spirits high.
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