Cape Town - ‘”Hot Beer, Lousy Food, Bad Service, Kak Accommadation. Welcome to Angie’s G Spot” read the board.
Clearly this non-conformist invitation, with spelling deliberately distorted, is a great marketing strategy. During my stay at Angie’s, visitors travelling up or down Prince Alfred Pass – which links Knysna and Plettenberg Bay with the Karoo via Avontuur – arrived in a steady trickle.
“We saw your Durban number plate and decided to follow you in,” one couple told me. A likely story.
“It is such a hot day, we simply had to have a cold beer,” said another. Umm. Didn’t the sign say “hot beer”?
Owners Harald and Angie Beaumont have probably heard every excuse in the book. With a twinkle in her eye, Angie said it’s the G Spot bit that tittilates many. “But if they think they are going to find hot sex and outrageous decadence, they are mistaken,” she laughed.
Adding a bit of mystique is the fact that Angie was once a glamorous private investigator in Durban, and at one time worked for the National Intelligence Service. She still has that undefinable air about her: a bit of “Annie Get Your Gun” mixed in with a chorus girl high-kicker.
But let’s backtrack a bit. Shortly after I left the main road at Avontuur, a magnificent jackal buzzard took off from a field, gliding past just metres from the windows of my vehicle, flaunting beautiful, multi-hued tawny wings. This breathtaking encounter set the tone for the drive down the pass.
The ghost of Thomas Bain, (who built the pass) probably still sits on a craggy top, nodding his head in satisfaction at his masterpiece. It is an easy pass – gentle and forgiving – but not short on scenery and very well kept, despite being untarred.
Cottage on Pass was the first spot to lure invitingly. Built from rocks and stones, set among fynbos, and with a fine view, it looked like a great stopover, but how to check in? One sign pointed to the cottage and a small farmyard down a tiny road. Another directed visitors along a track in the opposite direction, to the reception. This soon petered out, so I turned back and went to examine the cottage. From outside it looked charming, but there was no contact phone number and not a soul to be seen. I made a mental note to Google it on my return home. (According to Google it’s actually called Cloud Cottage.)
Further down the pass, in an itsy-bitsy hamlet, there was a sign for Bain’s Cottage, but this time there was going to be no deviation. Angie’s – midway along the pass – was my destination and the first person I spotted there was a wiry man sporting a grey Rip van Winkle beard, clad in baggy shorts, who introduced himself as Harald. Clearly this was going to be a stopover with a difference.
We promptly retired to the bar, which overlooks the Keurbooms River. It was flowing rather lethargically in the heat, but still making a pleasant gurgle as it splashed over the rocks. The beers proved to be frosty, not hot as the sign so mockingly promised.
Soon we were joined by Angie herself, who bustled me off to my accommodation for the night: a tent on a raised wooden deck under a tree, and overlooking a sandy beach in the river bed. This is not five-star tented luxury. There is a comfortable mattress, bedding and pillows, a bedside table, a table and chair on the deck; all the traveller really needs. Nature, the fresh air, peacefulness and contented comments coming from the river are great unwinders for any stressed soul.
There are several friendly dogs, cats, a tethered sheep and, lording it over all, Shakila the pot-bellied pig, who apparently is prone to flop down in the pond on the main deck outside the bar/restaurant. She was well behaved that afternoon, though.
Unlike Shakila, there was to be no lolling about for me. Harald whisked me off to see some of the surrounding area, which he said was once known as Edmonton. The old school still stands, while the former doctors’ infirmary has been converted into a house.
“We have had former pupils visiting,” said Harald, who hails from Zimbabwe. “We even organised a school reunion for them.”
The couple live in a 1952 bus and are into recycling, including bottles, and make their own compost. The umbrellas outside the restaurant are from recycled wattle.
And now the extraordinary name…
Some years ago Angie and Harald took a drive on a motorbike in the surrounding area.
“I kept raving about the scenery along the way. When we arrived at this spot, we saw a piece of driftwood shaped like a G. All this meant it was a great spot, so we decided to build here, and give it the name Angie’s G Spot. There is no sexual connotation, though,” said Angie.
That night, every time there was a slight noise, I peered out of the tent. Harald had told me a family of otters sometimes cavort nearby. It being full moon, perhaps they would oblige?
Early the next morning, I took a walk part way back up the pass, to enjoy the cascades and study Bain’s Pillar – a rocky pillar reaching skywards.
The couple say this wild and beautiful area warrants more than just a day drive, and point kindred souls in different directions.
“Around here is some of the last true wilderness in South Africa. You might even spot a leopard,” said Harald.
Contact: Angie’s G Spot: 044 752 3017; e-mail: [email protected]; Williamsburg 044 745 1013. - Sunday Tribune