Not a huge distance today, mostly down scenic route 62, through places like Calitzdorp, Ladismith, Barrydale and Montague. Much of the first part was flat and desert again with ostriches and a tortoise scampering out of the way on the road.
By mid morning the temperature has climbed to a very reasonable 30ish and still not a cloud in the sky. I've been assured there may be rain in the next couple of days which would be sad but tomorrow is another optional ride through the mountain passes which would be fearsome in the wet.
There's a pub in the middle of the Little Karoo which is a remote and desolate spot. It was called Ronnies Shop until some wag painted 'Sex' in the middle of it. Since then it has, apparently done a roaring trade. It has no real redeeming features except for a dead tractor in the car park. Mary has a excellent cockney accent and described it as 'naff' in a manner that left no doubt as to her opinion. There's a collection of bras, baseball caps and graffiti all over the walls which do little or nothing for it.
Lunchtime finds us in Barrydale where there is a minor directional cock up, David went into the town, as directed, and had to be recovered. This resolved we all met at the same cafe and the food is again excellent and stunningly cheap. It's a bit of a tourist spot and I do toy with a Springbok skin from the shop opposite. Luckily the shop was full of tourist tat and I got overwhelmed and walked out. It would never have fitted in the top box anyway, Clive and Mary have bought an ostrich egg (hollow hopefully) and stashed their wet weather gear in my top box.
Tonight's stop is at a winery, the Conradie Family Winery, an old Cape Dutch homestead (www.conradie-vineyards.co.za). There are some drawbacks like I've got the worst room (step over the bog to get into the shower), the pool is a vivid green, the sandflies come out in abundance (there is bug spray in the rooms which might give a clue). However overall, surprisingly, the place is a peach.
The wine tasting is over in a few minutes, it closes in any case at five, and there is no way of bringing the wine home so it's a bit pointless. What is astounding is that they charge the same for the wine in the restaurant as at the cellar.
Sitting outside with a beer (or three) one the resident dogs comes over and gives us a stone. It seems to like stones and kind of invites you to throw it which Clive does, onto the lawn, and it then proceeds to tear up the grass. You can see this might end up badly but there is no way it's giving up the stone. Obviously also mad.