Much to the concern of the ladies doing the Engen graveyard shift, I gathered my things from the bus and trekked off into the darkness; guided by an arrow on a Google Earth image. I was looking for my bed.
For those of you that don’t know, Springbok is not just a type of gazelle or a type of sportsman, it is also a type of town; nestled in the heart of the Namaqualand in the Northern Cape, surrounded by stark yet somehow beautiful rocky hills. It is HOT and dry, but I don’t mind that. From my vantage point in the air-conditioned SuperSpar conference room “Die Beste SuperSpar in die Weste“, I ponder the miracle of human hospitality…
There, on the bend of Republiek Straat, I found it… A post-it with my name written on it, stuck to an unlocked door which opened up to a fully furnished bachelor pad, complete with corn flakes and some milk. 4 am might be opstaantyd for some enthusiastic exercise fanatics, but for me it was bed time.
Complete strangers (who weren’t even home at the time), the Burgers (who run the SuperSpar here in Springbok) allowed me to stay in their garden flat. Albert, their son, a friend of a friend’s father, was there to show me around, and let me sit in their conference room. He even got one of the secretaries to organise my taxi from Springbok to Alexander Bay. Tannie Lizzy promptly called me back to confirm the time and a convenient pick-up point.
Other than the bergie high on tik that badgered me for change after getting off the bus this morning, I have found the people here in this dorpie (and during my correspondence with west coast tourism organisations) extremely friendly and helpful.
Springbok certainly has given this bok a spring in his step.