… are a great combo for getting out and about. So after an hour’s brisk walk early(ish) this morning, we packed cameras, chairs, books and refreshments and headed off to find Inanda dam … and got lost. Dick has a natural direction finder installed in his – I was going to say ’software’, but that sounds filthy – so let’s settle for noodle ( that’s head, to any non-Brits reading this). But today, it took a couple of false starts before we found what we were looking for. The difficulty is that once out and away from the main shopping centre towns, roads around here quickly fizzle into meandering tracks that curve and twist such that it’s hard to maintain a sense of direction. Now factor in that the locale around here isn’t called A Thousand Hills Experience for nothing, and that every hill has its share of surrounding valleys – as hills are wont – and you’ll understand why it’s easy to lose your bearings in all that upping and downing and roundabouting. Add to that, that many of these snaking routes lack signs, or have their signposts twisted to face the wrong way. That the Inanda Dam was entirely off the map we were using didn’t help matters either.
The bonus to getting lost is that your false starts frequently take you through some lovely wild countryside and open up other worlds – tiny townships where the children run about in bare feet and chickens scratch at the roadside – that you’d otherwise never see. These are scenes I’d love to photograph but I’m still not sure of the reaction I’d get. I don’t want to push our luck (brandishing expensive-looking cameras in the face of those who struggle to afford shoes isn’t necessarily wise or kind). And I certainly don’t want to cause offence. Once I get a better feel for the tempo and mien of the local culture perhaps I’ll give it a go.
Anyway, once there, the Inanda Dam was worth the extra petrol. Or I should say the dam itself was – and the lakes it fed – but the macho types that go there to tear-up the water on jet-skis and small power craft were rather less welcome. Too darn noisy by half. Neither of us can see the attraction in those anti-social, anti-environment toys. Zim, zim, turn, zim, zim, turn – until – what? Till you’ve zimmed and turned yourself out of two-stroke. Or till you’re bored. Zimming isn’t exactly a skill, and it isn’t even that thrilling after the first two or three turns. But the thick expanse of parked trailers beached up on the lakes’ grassy shores proved there are plenty of enthusiastic Zimmers – talent-lite, bored, or otherwise.
We chose instead a quiet annexed section of lake, perfect for punting and fishing. The weather, the scenery (ignoring the row upon row of boat trailers) was absolutely picture perfect. And it proved an ideal spot for a little reading and – heck, we’re getting old – a quiet snooze. Until the Zimmers, restored by lunch, resumed their bloody zim, zim, turn; zim, zim, turn.
Time to go, said Zebedee.
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Been having all sorts of fun and games tonight trying to ensure the blog photo gallery widget (that funny little box with 3 photos showing, in the top right of the opening page) was showing the latest shots I’d uploaded to the Butterfly and Barnacle Flickr gallery. I think, fingers crossed, it’s now working properly. If it isn’t, then hit it for me, will yers? Anyhoo, as a result, haven’t time to mess with any more photos for this post tonight, but instead am going to link you to a wonderful little Youtube clip to freshen the blood and provide new meaning to the word Wow.
So, hoping there are no more gremlins at play tonight, try clicking here to see the one and only Laird Hamilton in action. Proving you don’t need expensive toys to rip up some fun – just a board and a whole lot of talent. Enjoy.
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