Cape Point
I feel myself obliged to document the events of the past weekend in the hope that it might bring a smile to a face or two. Friday was, as usual, a special day. I booted the ‘rauder at about 6:30 in the morning and set of on the half-hour ride to work. My favorite route went past the Strand beachfront with lots of people on the beach already, as we were “suffering” a heat wave. The sun was up for almost two hours already and you could tell it would be scorcher. I donned my working attire, black jeans, white T-shirt (still waiting for the official IUB group T-shirt) and a pair of slops.
I arrived at work bright and early and straight off things turned ugly. I left early on Thursday and left the radio playing and the window open (to make it look as if I went somewhere and got held up past knock off time). During the night a stray bird or something flew in the window and set of the Intruder alarm (not the one on Axels bike). Needless to say security was all over me and it took some creative story telling to avoid being rushed off to the dungeons to have my toe-nails pulled.
I ended up in the boss’ office in my Friday attire. This is not a good thing as he is a suit and tie dude. As I waltzed in, he started shuffling some papers that was piled knee deep on his desk. I could see he would have preferred starting the day without seeing my sorry ass. I barely survived, and will be wearing suit and tie for couple of days. He would have gladly donated my bound, unsedated ass for medical research.
Anyway I got some coffee and a donut on my way back and settled to read my IUB e-mail. This took about an hour and my nerves were just settling down when the phone rang. It was the Sales manager. I was surposed to do something for him today. This guy is gawdawfull big, he used to play rugby for the national team and you don’t want to mess with him. I hate this one woman who works for him. She is forever looking over my shoulder and telling me what to do (you all know the kind ). So I went to see him and promptly recommended that it is my professional opinion that his server would be a lot better off in the server room. After negotiations this was settled. I was glad. I could work in peace. I commandeered a trolley, loaded the machine and set of towards my server room. Looking forward to a day of peace and quiet. In the passage I ran into my old friend Alain. He worked for a consulting firm and do a lot of work for us on jobs we didn’t feel like doing or at times when we don’t feel like working at all. He asked where I was off to and decided to join me as the server room was equipped with a television and the first one-day cricket test between ZA and the West Indies were due to start soon. He got us some Cokes, ordered pizzas from Mr Delivery and we set off. He connected the TV to an external aerial with some co-axial network cable while I started working on Godzillas brothers machine. I was done before he had a proper picture, and the food arrived.
We figured we should find something to do on the machine. We decided one of the network cards were acting up and we should replace it as we had to justify Alain’s time. At this stage it is important to remember that the machine was working when I took it from Godzillas big brother.
To make a long story short we managed to bring the entire machine down and could not get it working. You’ve all been there. I was wondering what we were thinking when we decided to work on a perfectly good system. The ringing telephones made it very difficult to concentrate. We finally got it working around 3 o’clock and settled down to watch some cricket and eat our, now-cold, pizza.
The cricket was delayed due to rain so we were watching the antics of the “Biker Mice from Mars” when a little utility I created to warn me if certain access cards were being scanned in a particular sequence, went haywire, indicating someone with authority was closing in on me. This allowed me to take evasive action, have the person searched by turning a red light above his turnstile on or even trap him inside the turnstile if necessary. It was Godzillas brother and he was close.
This guy knew I was inside and he kept knocking. Something must be wrong. I jumped up to have a look at the server and dropped a fresh pizza slice on my shirt. I was having a Caribbean with extra banana and Avocado to celebrate the fact that we were going to whip the West Indies arses on the cricket field today. This mixture of green avocado and yellow banana made horrible stains on my white T-shirt. Alain opened the door as I bend over the server to look busy. Godzillas brother asked what the hell is going on and I mumbled a lot of techno mumbo-jumbo that seemed to confuse him enough to try and look intelligent by nodding his head profusely and saying he hates it when that happens. He walked over and peered into the machine which off-course was working again. Alain stepped up and said we were just finishing. He looked skeptical but called his office where someone confirmed the database is working. He left and we continued to watch the antics of Mighty Morph and eating pizza. I tried to wash my shirt but the stains wouldn’t come out.
The telephone rang and I was summoned to the Boss’s office. He took one look at my T-shirt, sighed and told me he needed some Impromptu cubes for a management meeting Monday morning. I didn’t mind doing this even though it was no fun at all, because the women whose machine I always use was HOT. Alain tagged along. He wanted to have a go at it. We walked into the girls cubicle and she was delighted to see us. I told here to close and save her work and move over. She had a pair of skin tight black bell-bottoms on, the kind they wear to clubs. She got up, put her one knee on the chair and leaned over to close her work. Her behind was pointing right at us. I noticed the side of a checked light blue panty sticking out above her pants. It looked nice against her tanned lower back. I looked at Alain. I could see his adams apple going up and down. He looked at me meaningful and asked: “Well, where do we start?” For a moment I didn’t know what he was talking about. Then I said: “Right at the beginning, dummy.” The girl left with a sly smile.
Before I knew it, it was 4 o’clock and time to leave for Aero Canopies to meet Desperado and Intruder Pete for Friday afternoon drinks at Knights Pub in Durbanville. I got there early and was chatting to Desperado when I heard Intruder Pete coming our way. It sounded like a big V8. He must have the baddest ‘truder you can imagine. Loud as a drunken witch (with pommy accent: “Ah knouw isssss ilegul”) and black as sin. I love this bike. We haven’t seen each other for a couple of weeks and after emotional hallos we set off to Durbanville. I rode at the back because I do not stay in the city like these two and was following them blindly on the 20 minute ride, first through heavy traffic and later narrow country roads with trees growing on both sides and forming a canopy over us. I was lost within minutes after leaving Desperados workshop but it was a beautiful day and the countryside was awesome. Mountains all around us, green grass, blue skies and all this on a Friday.
As we arrived at Knights pub, and was walking towards the door, our buddy Andre and his wife Mariette drove up on his (their?) Steed. Desperado commented that Andre should get himself a Harley as he is a big fellow and wears this little black helmet that makes his face look like Fred Flintstone. Pete commented that he would look even better with a goatee and I started singing: “Viva Los Vegas” and had visions of ZZ Top riding through Vegas…
We went into Knights. It was my first time there. It is situated in an old house with old wooden floors and dark painted walls. It really looked mediaeval. We found a table close to a window in the bikers corner and sat down. It was very hot and the first Black Label tasted like I hoped it would.
We finalized plans for Sundays ride, when Pierre Le Blond would join us. We also decided we would grace the Freedom rally, that will be held in February, with our presence and promptly elected Mariette as co-ordinator for the event (read: she must find us a place to stay and see that we have enough food) despite her objections. Plans were finalised and a lot of bull were thrown around. After a beer and some whisky, Pete decided to leave as he is in the process of softening up his wife as he needs a couple of nights off next week, amongst other things for the Ulysses meeting. Desperado walked with him and I waved him off through the window. Shortly afterwards Desperado left and Andre, Mariette and I finished our drinks and walked to our bikes. As I was putting on my backpack I commented that the strap of my backpack that goes around my middle used to be much longer (I had to adjust it by about a foot) and Andre said some-one must have cut a piece off?
I followed Andre as he was going to take me to a place from where I could find my way home. Halfway there he decided to put in some fuel and drive with me. By this time it was about 6:30 pm and it was still beautiful. We drove north on the N1 freeway and then I had to turn east towards Stellenbosch, leaving the freeway. Andre and Mariette waved goodbye and took the next turnoff back. I drove on alone.
After a while the 3 Black Labels I had was starting to take their toll and I had to find a place to take a leak. I decided I would try to hang in there till the next town, Stellenbosch, where I knew this great little pub next to the main road with tables on the pavement. This town is the oldest town in South Africa because Cape Town is a city (Cape Town is where the first Europeans set foot on South African soil in 1652). It is also home to the most famous and one of the highest regarded universities. I also hold the town in high regard due to the sheer quantity and quality of it’s female population, mostly students. With this in the back of my head I pulled into the pub, visited the head and ordered another Black. I found a table close to my sled and indulged in my second favorite past time, Anatomy study, with particular reference to the female anatomy?
After another half an hour I decided I better leave. I saddled up and headed on the last stretch of the ride home. This is a 20 minute ride through vineyards and at the foot if a majestic mountain range stretching all the way to the sea. It was now about 7:30 and there was perhaps another hour of sun left. I was still riding in my T-shirt and as I got closer to the town where I live, which is situated on False Bay I could feel the fresh sea breeze. I pulled over at a picnic spot and stretched my legs, deciding I would watch the sun set from there.
I finally got home around 8:30, just as the sun was going down. I knew it was going to be a wonderful weekend.
—oo0oo—
It’s Sunday morning 6 am when the alarm clock wakes me. My little dog jumps up and down, it’s a beautiful morning and he knows it is Sunday and we normally take a walk to the beach where he can run around and cause havoc. I take him for his stroll while my wife finishes up.
We leave 7 o’clock as we are supposed to meet the rest of the gang at Rhodes Memorial on the slopes of Table Mountain and it is a pleasant 45 minutes drive from my home. We take the N2 highway south and enjoy the early morning air. As we rolled into Cape Town it was 7:45. We were a bit early but I wasn’t certain about the off turn to the rendezvous point. Fortunately it was well marked and we had no difficulty in finding it.
The rest of the gang was also early. My wife and I barely had time to frighten the local Coffee shop owner. It was the first time some of the guys met face to face and we chatted for a while. My wife and I were there, riding my (our) Marauder, Desperado was their on his immaculate black Desperado, Andre and his wife Mariette was there on their maroon Steed as well as Intruder Pete on his Intruder which sounds like a big V8. He must have the baddest ‘truder you can imagine. Black as sin and loud as a drunken witch at a New Years party (say with pommy accent: “Ah knouw isssss ilegul, baaah aaahh loov it to moossssh”). I love this bike too. Lastly there was Pierre le Blond who rides a black and gray ‘rauder similar to mine apart from a couple of accessories and shiny things hanging on his bike including a pair of bad Cobra slash cuts).
Some of the locals came over and was admiring the bikes when one of them asked: “Hey, you guys are bikers, do you fight a lot?”
“Yeah,” came the answer, “all the time. And when there’s no one to fight with we fight with each other.” This was met with looks of horror on the local’s faces and general laughter by the bikers. We saddled up.
At this stage President Nelson Mandela, who lives just down the road, step up to us and asked whether he could say a few words. I thought “Oh no, here comes the part about driving careful, and washing our hands before we eat.” We lit cigarettes. Instead he proceeded to captivate the leather-clad audience with his wisdom in outlining his grand plan for the resurrection of the, dead as a doornail, ZA economy.
In closing, he remarked that, although it gives him no pleasure at all to have to announce it, he has decided (while he was taking his early morning crap) that we lot, as symbols of the privileged portion of the population who got rich enough to afford such dazzling machinery, will have be made an example of.
These machines, grand as they might be, obviously serves no purpose as the maximum number of persons that can be transported at any given time, does clearly not fall within the government prescribed minimum of 27. In addition to this, no goats or cattle could be transported and this effectively renders the machines useless. These machines will, therefore, be confiscated with immediate effect, and the owners of these machines must be thankful for the opportunity they had in making a better South Africa for all her people!
After a round of applause and bellows of laughter we started the bikes and rolled down the steep road, down to the road that will take us to our intended turning point. The president, unfortunately, missed our departure as he fell asleep directly after his tiring speech.
I was given the dubious honor of riding in front. This made no sense, as I barely knew which way to go. Fortunately the roadsigns were clear, and I was determined not to lead my pack of proud and fearless warriors (following me blindly and blissfully unaware of my ignorance) into peril. We made it to the Highway and proceeded south.
As we closed in on Muizenberg, we ran into a zillion of cyclists. Cops were everywhere; de-regulating the traffic and doing what cops does best, which, as everyone knows, is cause havoc. A traffic light (we call them robots - and no I don’t know why) would turn green and everyone would prepare to take off when the cop decides the guys who has the green light should stop and the ones that has the red light should ride. A cage rider in front of me got impatient and used his horn. This was a mistake, as the cop glared at him and made us all wait even longer.
With my leadership skills, and having been forewarned that almost everyone needed fuel, I managed to find the only closed fuel station in the coastal town of Muizenburg. This I only noticed after I had proudly maneuvered my sled into the optimum position for the re-fuelling procedure and started fishing for my wallet! My followers were watching me from the road with amused grins and lots of head shaking. We proceeded to the next fuel station just down the road after more head shaking
We filled up and those that had to visit the head (toilet). Desperado was looking for something in the storage compartment under his seat. He produced a bunch of leather tussles of various lengths, which he has bought us as Christmas gifts and which will be installed on our handle bars, one day when he actually get so far to part with it…
Proudly he walked over. I noticed it and must have looked suitably impressed. Intruder Pete was not paying attention and was promptly lashed over his behind. He jumped, and looked at Desperado, noticing the leather thongs. He looked puzzled and suddenly his face lit up. In his pommy accent he said: “Aah sup-pooze yer goot the fissssh net stahlking ta match tooooo.” Anyway the thongs quickly disappeared into the compartment never to be seen again.
The next 10 mi was sheer bliss. I was in my usual position, at the back of the pack and I could watch the antics of the bunch as they negotiated the narrow main road through Simons Town, ZA’s premier naval base. We had the mountains to our right and the ocean on our left. Still there were cyclists by the dozens. It must have been some big cycling event.
After Simon’s town we took the scenic mountain road to Cape Point Nature Reserve. We climbed steadily and could see little bays and beaches way down; the ocean was turquoise and the water in the numerous secluded little bays looked inviting. We saw some baboons that scattered because of the noise we were creating.
The group turned left into the Nature Reserve where we had to pay an entrance fee, and set off towards the southernmost point on the Cape peninsula, where the mighty Atlantic Ocean meets the warmer Indian ocean. The road was narrow but well maintained, and we drove at a leisurely pace, enjoying the nature with it’s sights and sounds as you could only experience it on a motor cycle. We were some of the first people at the parking lot and parked the bikes for some pictures. It was around nine o’clock and it was getting hot already. After the pics, we set of for the restaurant where we were to have brunch. We chatted a lot, had some great laughs and ate well. Those of us that ordered the omelet got the fright of our lives when our food arrived. It was the biggest omelet I have ever seen. They said it contained three eggs but by the size of it must have been ostrich eggs (an ostrich egg is about as big as your head). No one could finish it.
While siting at the restaurant we saw some dolphins way down in the water. I tried to figure out where my hometown was situated as we drove around False Bay and were now at the opposite end. False Bay got it’s name from the early traders returning from India on their way back to Europe who almost to the last one all made a right into the bay figuring it was Table Bay (where the real harbor was) only to discover to their horror that it was a lot shallower (hence the scores of shipwrecks) and another half days sailing away.
As we were leaving bikes started arriving. One old timer on another cruiser grinned and drove our way as he saw the cruisers, figuring he would park his sled in good company. We all noticed his smile freeze on his face as he realized to his horror these were Jap cruisers. He nearly fell over as he made an about turn and went to park his bike as far away from us as possible. We couldn’t help but grin. I for one was tempted to go and park next to him but we were leaving.
We drove the 10 miles to the gate without helmets at a slow pace. We passed about ten busses filled with tourists and Intruder Pete took it upon himself to welcome everyone by waving profusely. We all followed suit and everyone waved back. Score one for the bikers.
The next 12 mi was again high up and past some of the best surfing spots on the continent, up to the town of Kommetjie, where most of us had to visit the head. I was waiting for the toilet to become available, and was paying attention to a little mutt that looked particularly forlorn and scared, when Mariette and an Oriental female tourist joined me. I struck up a conversation with the dog and as I was trying to find out from the dog what his name was his owner appeared. She was an old girl that has obviously had a rough time. I asked her what the dog’s name was and she said Fluffy. I told her he reminds me of my dog and she said the dog is a bit timid as she gave it a hiding. I asked why and she said she and her husband were having a fight and when her husband hit her the dog bit her, so she had to hit it as it was surposed to bite her husband. The poor dog was not even as high as my boot, so I couldn’t imagine the bite could have been very bad. I was horrified and told her to hit her husband instead of the dog. She got excited and stood closer to me, her breath was frightening. I thought she might start by hitting me and stepped back, into a big hole, which I then saw for the first time. The tourist was still watching us, not being able to understand what was going on.
The next town was Hout Bay. This little town created, as a publicity gimmick, their own republic, aptly named the Republic of Hout Bay. They even sold passports which, some claim, were accepted by certain airports in Europe as they didn’t know about this little republic and the passports looked like the real thing, complete with picture! Anyway that’s what I heard.
The trip was now past halfway, and my ‘rauder rolled it’s 10 000th kilometer (6000th mile). It was also time to start entering the southern seaside suburbs of Cape Town where the rich and famous lives. It has been dubbed the Monaco of Africa, which is not an understatement, ask anyone that has seen both cities. The lifestyle is relaxed and the climate exceptional. Some of the most famous beaches in Africa are found along the 15-minute ride past mansions situated on the face of the mountain.
While driving through Camps Bay, we pulled up to a red traffic light. A girl on a big cruiser with a Barb Wire tattoo on her arm and a black tank top rumbled past us and stopped in front of us. She obviously considered herself worthy of our attention (why else drive past us) and we gladly obliged. We had to ask Intruder Pete in front to sit down and not stretch his neck so much as he tried to see as much of her as possible. When the traffic light changed, she took off with Pete and Pierre in hot pursuit. These were the oldest two members, though I must add that Andre and I (the youngest) both had our wives with us, so maybe?
Fortunately we had arranged to meet the two Fox Terriers at the Keg in Moulle Point, as we never saw them again. Whether they caught her, I don’t know. I hope not. Any way they were waiting for us at the Keg as we pulled up. So maybe that girls bike was souped up.
After some beer and food every-one made their way home. It was a great day.
Tags: Trip reports
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