Somerset East and the Ancestors

Our campervan seemed to be settling down.   We knew at some stage we would have to have it seen to in PE, but the urgency was off, so we settled into our journey with the next leg ahead to Somerset East.  John has history there.  His great, great, great (not sure of how many greats) grandmother owned a hotel in Somerset West.   So, John wanted to do some scouting around, looking at the local graveyard and surrounds.

Because our initial booking was in Graaff Reinet, we hadn’t made any booking at Somerset East, but trusted there must be some sort of municipal caravanpark or roadside stop we could overnight at. We decided to push on to Somerset East as it was a lot closer to Hogsback.  With temps soaring during the day to over 40 and Quincey not handling the journey very well, we didn’t want to make our last stretch too long, apart of course,  the fact that John was very excited to have some time in Somerset West for reasons I stated above.

We found a caravan park called Bestershoek.  I tried calling en route, but there was no reply.  So it was pot luck when we arrived I’m afraid….we arrived around 4ish, found what we thought was the sign to Bestershoek, but drove into the town instead.  We needed provisions for our braai and some very much needed ice.   There were still stormclouds around along with visible evidence of a large downpour early that afternoon.   Needless to say Bestershoek Caravan Park was on a dirt road, our very first one.  3kms on the dirtroad it said……after 1km, John decided it would be better for me to drive the jeep to keep the load off the van.   It was quite scary slipping and sliding all over the place.  We arrived unscathed at Bestershoek Caravan Park.

After a very restless Saturday night, Sunday morning dawned with the chatter of vervet monkeys in the trees opposite.   Very definitely not coming too close because of our dogs.  They kept a respectful distance but did, in no uncertain terms, announce that they were not very happy about intruders in what they think, is their space.  Somerset East is where John’s great, great grandmother lived and died.  His Dad and Mum had made a trip there some years back to see if they could find the family graveyard.  They did, so it was now John’s turn to do the same.  Armed with information, he set off with his camera.  In the meantime, I packed up camp, took the dogs for a walk and got ready for the next leg of our journey, which was to be the last for a while.