One might be inclined to think that I haven't blogged for a while because I've been sulking about my guitar, but one would be wrong. My spirit in fact has been high lately! My cellphone signal and battery though have been otherwise. But now in Pofadder I find spirit, signal and battery in agreement so here is an update.
The road from Garies to Springbok was anything but flat. Fortunately it had been that way for sometime though so my muscles had adapted and walking wasn't too bad. One of the things I miss now about that mountainous terrain is the sections where a hill had been cut away for the road leaving two parallel bands of vertical rock. The harmonics in these little gullies were amazing and were a big help in passing the time during rests learning to throat sing. Throat singing is when you isolate the harmonics in your voice to produce more than one tone at the same time. It helps to have a practice area with good acoustics, and thanks to those spots I'm getting pretty good. I can now construct basic melodies from the overtones. I was hoping to be able to integrate this technique into some songs but it sounds pretty strange so we'll see. When I was researching the technique I discovered that there are some western musicians who have collaborated with throat singers (aka overtone singers) or learned the technique themselves and used it in folk-type music. It would be interesting to hear what they came up with. Glued my guitar today so by tomorrow evening it should have set rock solid and be ready for some serious experimentation!
The day before I got to Springbok, I was given a free bed at Namakwa Game Lodge! I had a great time playing songs and chatting about the area with the owner and the groundskeeper! A hot shower, a comfortable bed and 25km later I found myself in Springbok. It was alot bigger and busier than I expected and in trying to negotiate the traffic and pavements I buckled the right wheel severely. It didn't spring back humorously like it had done before, this was a proper buckle! I couldn't fuss too much because I was right in the middle of the road so I dragged poor Olive to next pavement. Stepping off the last one had rendered her in a condition unsuitable for any more pavement hopping so I had to drag her in the road, dodging taxis and catatonic locals on my way to Springbok Lodge where I joined two journalists who I had met a few hours before on the road. Erns and Simone are a writer and photographer busy working on an article on the Northern Cape for Weg magazine. A writer and a photographer!!! Like minded people!!! It was very cool chatting to them when they interviewed me just before Springbok and when I arrived, in shock after emerging from desolation, in the metropolis of Springbok they somehow provided a sense of familiarity. They, like Johan from Garies, had told me to come to the lodge to speak to Oom Jopie, king of namakwaland tourism, about the history of the area. I'm very glad I did because he also offered me a free bed! His timing was especially good as the lid for my container on my cart had given way, emptying all my possession onto the street, while inverted in my efforts to fix my wheel. So from the lowest of the low things suddenly weren't so bad! Then the guy who helped me carry my stuff broke my guitar.
Fortunately, thanks to Oom Jopie, I had a place to stay where I rested well, ate well, and bought a puzzle book which has now got me hooked on sudoku! I managed to fix the wheel enough to continue, though at one point the steel exceeded its elastic limit leaving the rim deformed. Hopefully in Kakamas I'll find somewhere to buy a new wheel.
After a rest day, the road held some pleasant suprises... There were no more hills! And there was an emergency lane to walk in! And the tar doesn't trap my trekking poles yanking my arms backwards like the N7 did! The N14 rocks!! Then the wind started. I can handle the rain, the heat, the cold, but the wind will take some getting used to. Other than the wind though, the six days (including a rest day) between Springbok and Pofadder were really enjoyable! I settled into a good rhythm on the flat ground. The clouds on the first few days caught the sun in a manner that had the continuous carpet of grass glowing in silvers and golds from horizon to horizon. The plant and bird life here are spectacular! An endless variety of succulents under the giant nests of communal weavers! Everywhere you go there are these beetles that look like tok-tokkies but are covered in spikes and I can't help but picture them in a Gary Larson world: The rebels of the insect world, covered in piercings, spray-painting misspelt graffiti while making rude comments at passing lady-bugs.
Now I find myself in Pofadder at a motel-style self catering place. Not too much in Pofadder. At all. I did have a very interesting chat though to oom Gertjie Niemöller who makes some amazing ornaments out of the local rock. My Afrikaans isn't great unfortunately so I missed alot of what he said but the manner in which he said it was very cool. There he sat, 81 years old, robed, at his command post in the middle of 60 years worth of boxes, photographs, stones, catalogues of his highly skilled work, all which he had one of his employees charging around and fetching at his command with the coordination of a military strike which, when the smoke of the battle and his "most terrible tobacco" had cleared, found me far wiser and three stone pendants richer.
