 to do in case of snakebite. For the latter we are well armed. Grappa and cognac to hand. I encountered a strange note, to the effect that free earplugs are available at reception if the wind bothers you. Wind? What wind. Oh well.... Anna wandered around, taking pics. Fascinating place, the canyon. One afternoon nap later, we were ready for dinner. As we strolled along the path, the sun was setting, setting off the quiver trees. The main building, a rather cheerless affair by day, was transformed into a cosy dining place with two fireplaces warding off the autumn chill. The staff was friendly, the service great. One guy had three kids hanging over the bar counter, listening to a story. Dinner was a three course affair – a pretty good pea soup followed by excellent pork cutlets with veg. Dessert was a good malva pud with custard. We went contentedly to bed. At about 11pm the wind started howling. I mean howling like a demented banshee. This was almost spooky. If you stand on the stoep, you feel a strong breeze. At roof level, about 3m, it is a full strength gale. Something to do with air currents in the canyon, I guess. I never travel without earplugs, so, being prepared, I was ok. The wind died down completely at around 3am. We stayed another day at the lodge, mainly so that I could recover from the effort that it took to drive long stretches on gravel. We had an ok breakfast, lounged around and looked at the canyon. Another decent dinner later, we went to bed, endured the wind thing again, and prepared to tackle the demon trail to return to S.A. We fortified ourselves with a hearty, if not necessarily good, breakfast in order to tackle the rigours of the 19km trail from the lodge. We set off. Anna was immediately in stress, talking under her breath (prayers?) and saying through clenched teeth “Not so fast, GG, not so fast!”. I was working on the principle that, if you achieve a critical speed, just this side of airplane take-off speed, the car would plane over the irregularities in the road. O, bosh! I was quite calm, taking pics. It was he who was stressed – he was whistling all the time, a sure sign. I was fascinated by the quiver trees. The road leading to the Luderitz – Keetmanshoop tarred road was good gravel with here and there something to see. Our plan was to drive to Keetmanshoop and thence down to Springbok- a long 8 hour drive, leaving us around 400km to get to Clanwilliam at the top of the Cederberg the next day. When we got to the tarred road, we changed plan and decided to go via the Richtersveld instead. A bit of a detour, but at least the more scenic road. This proved to be correct, but, with a lot of the trip on gravel, would in the end be a 10 hour trip. It was a great decision. The Richtersveld was stunning For part of the road it wanders beside the mighty Orange river. There are extensive vineyards just outside the Richtersveld Park border. Here we saw the most peculiar squatter camp built from straw. Eventually, quite done in, we reached Springbok. Anna had found us accommodation just outside town. We ate and slept. The next morning we set off for Clanwilliam, the first stop on our trip through the Cederberg. Anna found us a cottage at Klein Boschkloof just outside town. The approach was promising. A charming if slightly unkempt cottage under thatch. We decided to stay for 2 nights. The plan was to head for Wupperthal in the morning. This would, we reasoned, give us an idea of the Ceder mountains. Wupperthal was found by Leipoldt, C. Louis' grandfather and is of some historic interest. In any event, there should be lots of rocks and mountains to satisfy Anna. Indeed, rocks and mountains. I was stunned. The road led through the Bidouw valley (where the Louws have been farming for 7 generations) and along the most atrocious gravel road to Wupperthal. Only the church seemed to be kept in good nick. For the rest it is of a rather dismal aspect. We left. We had to return by the same road, Wupperthal being a cul de sac. Unless you have a 4x4. Which we don't. So we left. Oh, I've said that already, haven't I. On the way back we stopped at C. Louis Leipoldt's grave. Anna took a pic. I took a wee. Not at the actual grave, but in the broad vicinity. No disrespect intended, Louis. More mountains and rocks on the way back. Rock heaven for me. Over lunch in Clanwilliam we planned for the next few days. It was clear that, with no cellphone reception in the mountains, we would have to book ahead at least for the next 3 or 4 days. We consulted Anna's research notes and booked 3 nights at Mount Ceder. We initially intended to stay for only 2 nights, but found that, as pensioners (Hah!) we could get a 3-for-2 deal. Saturday night at Kagga Kamma with the option to stay for Sunday as well if we like it. If we can find a PC with internet access, we'll blog. If not, we won't. To reach our home for the next 3 nights, we had a leisurely 80km drive into the mountains ahead of us, albeit along a gravel road. By this time, as you may have noticed, we considered ourselves gravel road veterans. In fact, given the dusty and muddy state of our car (the mud due to a strectch the previous day where roadworks apparently required the road to be copiously watered), we were stopped several times in Clanwilliam by people respectfully requesting our advice on gravel road driving. Never one to to refuse help, I would stroke thoughtfully over my beard and dispense wisdom which they would feverishly jot down. Ok, ok: stroke thoughtfully in the place where a beard would be. If I had one. Which I don't. We had breakfast at Frans' farm stall in Clanwilliam, giving me the opportunity to fix an aspect ratio problem with the pics in previous blogs. I did not have time to scrutinize each one, but they should at least now bear some resemblance to normality. Frans sold me a bottle of grenadilla liqueur made by his brother, appropriately named “Pittekou”. The liqueur, not the brother. (“Pittekou” = “Chew the pips”) Thus armed we went into the mountains. Not quite, my dear. We visited a supermarket and bought things that we would need more than that silly bottle of Pittekou. Like food. Then, after buying the important things, we went into the mountains. The gravel road, not unlike the curate's egg, was ok in places, bad in places and terrible in some. This did not prevent us from having a great time. We were in no hurry, the 80 odd k's being a mere doddle. Would not have helped, were I in a hurry. Anna insisted that I stop every 50 meters or so to take pics. I don't need to tell you that he is off again, do I? I did ask him to stop fairly frequently. The scenery in the mountains was magnificent. Here are a few samples: There was life in the mountains. More mountains: And very rocky areas. With large, very large rocks next to the road. At some point in the past these rocks must have broken off the mountain and came tumbling down. I wonder how often? Must be a skrik if you are on the road at the time.... Along the way we passed by Cedarberg winery. We did not stop, as we know and don't particularly like their wines. We arrived at Mount Cedar in due course and were directed to what we thought to be a hut, but turned out to be a 3 bedroom house. The one top right. Great home for 3 days, with a deck mit jacuzzi nogal And great views: We had arranged to have dinner in their restaurant the first night. The idea was to test the cuisine and then, should it be great, we would dine there every night. This is where the food shopping came in,see. If their food is bad, we would cook. There is no way I would have the Innkeeper eat at the restaurant 3 nights in a row if the food is bad. Bad food makes him grumpy, and a grumpy Innkeeper is not a pleasant thing. We were the only guests, and they offered to bring the evening meal to our house – saves time all round. They brought a reasonable butternut soup and a plate each of what could best be described as ouma's chicken. A roasted leg quarter, rice, sweet potato and a mess of stir-fried veg. Not inedible, but certainly not worth paying good money for. So, the next two nights we would see what Anna has in store. By great coincidence the Mes Amis Canasta championship is held this year at Mount Cedar over two days of intense rivalry. The two finalists have both been passed fit (more or less) and the champ will be decided on a best-of-five basis. In the case of a draw, an arm wrestle will decide the winner. To make