Camping Supplies

Above, after our first shopping phase, the haul.

A cursory sifting through my photos from our trip shows that, after deleting about a tenth of them, I have 1,309 left.

So, instead of panicking, I will start the story at the beginning, and take it day by day. Some days had many stories in them, even if the whole story was in one picture, or in words because we were too busy staying on the road to take pictures, or too shy; and I will sometimes depart from the timeline and take a story and tell it on its own.

We planned to camp for the most part, with one booking made at a self-catering cottage on a farm near Nieu Bethesda (R400 or $54 per night), and one at a luxury self-catering (contradiction in terms?) lodge in Lesotho. As things turned out, the money for the latter (R1,360 or $183) was rather wasted, though the scenery did not disappoint.

On average we paid between R145 - R200 ($19 - $27) per night at SAN Park camping sites. In return we got a stand for our tent and car (usually a patch of grass with a shade tree, and twice with priceless views) with water and an electrical point (more about that later), impeccably clean ablution facilities (shared),which comprised showers, baths, toilet stalls and sinks with copious mirrors, and scullery and sometimes kitchen amenities.

The gas (diesel) cost a lot. It costs R7.50 per litre in South Africa. That's about $4.10 a gallon in US terms. We paid about $440 for gas, for 4,300 km.

We needed a lot of supplies for two meals a day, plus inbetween snacks.

For ease of access, we packed a separate breakfast bag:

long life milk
coffee
espresso pot
sugar in a mason jar
tin cups and teaspoons
rusks

I aways looked forward to breakfast. While I was still asleep, or brushing my teeth, Vince would fire up the Cadac gas bottle, balance on it the wire grid we used for braais, and perk the coffee. Then he'd warm the milk in a little pot. We'd sit in our camp chairs, sip the strong coffee, dip our rusks and look at the cliffs of Golden Gate in the early morning light, or the conversational sparrow weavers at our feet in the Karoo, or the waves of the Tsitsikamma shoreline crashing on the rocks below.

Above: Breakfast coffee, Day 6

Then we had the two ammo boxes. Pasta, polenta, packaged marinades, canned tuna, self-raising flour. Cornichons, salamis, home made chutney, crackers. Pepper grinder, salt, olive oil. Bags of lemons, pineapples and avocado. Long life custard for Vince. Garlic and onions and shallots and potatoes. Apricot jam.

In the fridge and cooler were frozen lamb and boerewors and cheddar and parmesan cheese and peaches and nectarines. Duck confit. Also sugarsnap peas, cherry tomatoes and long-lasting iceberg lettuce. Vinaigrette in a glass bottle with stopper. And rosemary and thyme in ziplock bags. Butter. Wholegrain bread.

In the Kitchen Box was my kitchen. Two chopping boards a big sharp knife a small sharp knife two wooden spoons the tongs three candle holders with glass chimneys and many candles two tumblers for wine or beer knives and forks for eating plastic wrap foil and trash bags a torch (flashlight) and Tabard citronella candles for mosquitoes. Enamelled tin plates, bowls and skottel for chops and sausage. Napkins and kitchen towels for wrapping around glass.

Above: our kitchen at Glen Reenen Rest Camp, Golden Gate National Park, Eastern Free State

At last we were packed. With tent and chairs and tiny wooden folding table and less tiny wooden folding table. Air mattress, pump for same, cast iron pot and pan.

The Fire Bag (matches, wood, blitz fire lighter briquettes, axe, braai grid and tongs), charcoal.

The Green Bag with towels and toiletries.

The Tent Bag with pillows and sheet. Yes. Sheet. The sleeping bags in tight drum shapes.

Not to mention toilet paper. In case. A spade. Really in case.

The scullery bag with soap and sponge and brush and plastic basin.

The Orange Basket with flower and bird and animal books as well as passports, wallet and binoculars and journal for expenses and gas. And pencil. With eraser.

And wine and beer. And lots of water.

We were ready. Covered in Basotho blankets, to which my mother pinned Jane's gift of a mini Estorbo - the taliscat to guard our comings and goings, the Landcruiser was ready to go.

Regard the number plate. It will come up again.

And now a word for our sponsors:

To HP - we could not have done it without you
To MM - for letting us go
To Jay and Guy - the fridge, the ammo boxes...
To Tipsy - for praying for us on mountain passes

Merci.