Kayaking, day four

We faced another long day of paddling today, almost as long as the brutal day two, and although tailwinds are apparently common along this route, we were battling head winds much of the day. We had planned to eat packed lunches on the water, but it was too rough, so we pushed on until we were much of the way towards our campsite and stopped at a lovely little beach. Wild flowers and wild strawberries carpeted the shore, a lovely stream passed by us, and a pretty little summer house with flowers in the windows formed the backdrop. The European way of sharing land is such a relief to experience after the American line drawing and paranoia.

 

In the woods I found a sheep skeleton, and gave Ria several of the more interesting bones to turn her kayak into a Viking ship.

 

After lunch, the wind died down completely, and we drifted lazily towards our campsite -- a magical spot with a massive waterfall, incredible views, an outhouse, and perhaps best of all a flat haul-out site so we didn't have to lift five kayaks up and over slippery seaweed-covered rocks in a tidal zone.

 

The site is halfway along an old 5km mail trail crosses the most picturesque farms in the world. Thom went running here, chasing confused sheep part of the way, while the rest of us lazed in the sun or played frisbee. An evening rain confined us under the tarp during dinner, but the sun returned in time for us to build a campfire. We had s'mores, but the concept was a little lost in translation as it crossed the Atlantic: the graham crackers were replaced with cookies, and the Hershey's chocolate with After Eight mint chocolate. And the South Africans just could not get the hang of roasting marshmallows without lighting the on fire, to our great amusement.

 

Thom and I took an evening walk up to the waterfall, and as we returned we saw three fox pups scampering around in the woods. John was out for a stroll too, and we watched as one of them came right up to him, no more than six feet away, and pondered asking John to play.

 

As we curled up in our sleeping bags, the rain returned. Sleeping in a tent in the rain is a joy Thom and I have shared many times, and it was special tonight with the massive waterfall crashing down in the distance, and the knowledge that this was our last night in the fjords.

 

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