Archive of BMW Motorrad Club Cape (2006 - 2019)

Just a short report of a trip down memory lane - since my father passed away last year I had the yearning to visit the little town of Kenhardt where I first got some brains! It is now 50 years later - On my way on a rainy Tuesday Morning I slept over at Nieuwoudtville - a little town on my way, where I had the privilage to be pastor for six years. I visited a lot of old folks, and also Griet - who used to work for our family for 14 years Griet and her son, Koos, was quite surprized to get a visit from out of the blue! Unfortunately I did not take a picture of my hosts at the Rooidak Guest house in Nieuwoudtville, but thanks to my friends - please go visit them whenever you visit Nieuwoudtville! Die Rooidakhuis, tel 027 2181125, or 083 231 4296, email rooidak@kingsley.co.za, Speak to Carla or Hester. My comfortable one man stay at the Rooidak Guest House Next morning I refueled at Calvinia and took on the two long stretches to Brandvlei and from there to Kenhardt. On these two stretches I delighted myself in the ease with which my GS took the road and made fun of it! Arriving at about noon - knowing only my hosts, about 13 km out of town, I felt fresh to immediately start exploring the town of my childhood. First stop - the tennis courts - where in my days this was part of the huzzle and buzzle of the town. People socialized around this court and us children ran around and played against the tennis wall nearby. Today the place is deserted and hooligans try to leave their marks everywhere Not the place of my youth anymore - abandoned tennis court Next stop - the wonderfull Swimming pool of the little town - empty, dirty, broken, the place where I got my first swimming lessons - Oh well - I still can swim a little! Nobody cares to swim anymore in Kenhardt Next stop - The hospital, where my brother and sister were born, and my tonsils were removed. I still recognized the room in which me and my brother were during these operations. Today the place is used as a clinic Kenhardt Clinic This old Camelthorn tree is one of my favourites. Once a young and vibrant tree, it housed more than one owl at night - of which we as children were scared of. My father had to get up in the night, walk down the road and chased the owl away! Thanks pa. We love this old tree, we are not scared of owls anymore, and what a pity to see how old age also get hold of nature - A landmark old tree about a 100 yards from where we grew up. Then on to the cemetery. Somewhere is a grave of a one day old little sister who was the first born of my parents. Found it! For the first time I am reminded of what her name was. And I wondered...what was the effect of her death on my upbringing? Were my parents over protective on me, the next child? I never felt like it was, they never told me the effects, but I cannot think that such a traumatic event does not leave a mark on parents. I also wondered how it is to have an older sister that can teach her younger brother some lessons of life! An older little sister I never had the privilage to know The grave yard also had seen better days Sub A and Sub B classrooms, with playgrounds the same as in my days years ago Sommer a lorrie, with the offices of the Divisional Council of Kenhardt in the background, where my father was the Secretary When I saw the "peule" on this thorn tree, I had to stop and take a picture - it was like home! The Hartbees river and one of the lovely trees that make me feel so at home And then to find out that an teacher of mine still lives in town, still working with little children in a private setting - Me and juffrou Visser chatted for about 3 hours before I could tear myself away! Still young and vibrant: "juffrou Visser" I just had to stop at the KKB as we know it - the only "winkel" of that days - just to see it is still going strong - all the smells are the same and the old wooden floors still going strong. KKB A visit at the Sports grounds let me remember my first rugby game, my first concussion, and some wonderfull days when local rugby clubs came for big rugby days. It seems that the town fathers of today are more interested in keeping their eye on the sports grounds and some other places than the tennis courts, swimming pool and grave yard Kenhardt Sports grounds Tree under which Kenhardt was born Next stop - a little place that once was a cafe - where we used to go with our bare feet, burning on the tar, and buy bread, and sweets(called los lekkers) put in a newspaper folded like an ice cream cone. Some times we skelmpies bought a chappies chewing gum - which had to be discarded before we came home, since my mother did not want us to chew chewing gum! Wilson toffees and nicker balls was OK though! Once a cafe The modern version - a lovely resting place in the main street of Kenhardt Dorperland! I remember how "big" this church was in the time of my childhood! I remember the hiding my younger brother got from wanting to go to my father in the deacon's pews, and I remember how scared I was that I would not recognize my parents when I had to bring in my younger sister from outside to them for her baptism. I remember the pulpit and the lights in the ceiling - good memories! Church My trusty bike parked at my hosts on the farm My hosts for the two days were the same people who took care of me 48 years ago when my mother was in hospital to give birth to my younger brother. The Steyns of Driekop are still good friends. We shared a lot of stories regarding their younger years and their friendship with my late parents. Thanks for your hospitality. There were enough place in my bins for 3 potjies jam and a skaapboud! Tannie Geza, cutting some biltong for me to take with me on my trip back Refueling at Nieuwoudtville A one day trip back home, stopping for petrol only, and a quick going around a corner of my old town Nieuwoudtville to catch a glimps of the lovely flowers, got me home savely after six hours in the saddle. Flowering season in Nieuwoudville What did I learn? I am still thinking about this, but for now: A closure of an era with my parents not with us any more. Memories are nice, remember where you are coming from, but today and tomorrow are actually the times and places to be! The Platteland is beautifull Do not live in the past! Times change, and different times interest different things in different people - and it is probably OK. I love my GS 1200! I still have some brains! Good friendships are precious!! Too short - I would love to go on another trip any day. etc!!