The second stop on our epic road-trip to Nam (what those of us who are experienced call Namibia) was a small, quaint seaside town called Port Nolloth.
Originally the town was a shipment point for copper and diamonds (which were mined from the sea), but since the 70’s those industries closed down and now it mainly subsists on fishing and tourism.
The Photog promised me long white sandy beaches, shipwrecked boats, much book reading and relaxation.
And all of this was delivered on. We stayed in a cute little blue and white cottage right on the beach, and not right on the beach like in Umhlanga terms where you can hear ice-cream sellers screaming and smell the overcooked Dunkin Donuts. Just us, white sand, rock pools and the sunset.
And the coloured fisherman who comes knocking at your bedroom window at 6 in the morning.
Knocking loudly called out “Missies’.
The Photog told me to ignore it. I couldn’t. When someone is knocking and calling at your bedroom window two foot from your bed I find it hard to put the pillow over your head and pretend they’re not there. So I pulled back the curtain to find out what this little man wanted.
What followed was an exchange in broken Afrikaans, he telling me his whole life story, which involved him pulling up his jersey to show me a horrific scar caused by drink (but I’m not sure how), ending with how he never touches alcohol and could he please go find me some crayfish for only R50.
Was I sceptical?
Sure, but I thought R50 isn’t much and if he turns out to be true to his word than bargain, otherwise all I’ve lost is R50 and it’s quite chilly so maybe he does deserve a tot or two to drive away the cold.
Much laughter aimed at me from the Photog and his brother ensued. But I tried to be optimistic and believe in the sincerity of the fisherman’s conversion.
While we waited for him to return promptly at 4 with our crayfish I looked up ways to cook fresh crayfish and the Photog took some great snaps.
Like this one.
And the conclusion to the crayfish story? I did not eat crayfish in Port Nolloth.
But I did eat plenty of delicious fresh seafood. Being a small town there are only 3 or 4 restaurants and they close pretty early.
Vespetti the Italian restaurant actually makes pretty great Italian food that lives up to Joburg standards.
Nemo’s looks a touch dodgy and as though it was the hangout of rough sea captains but once inside it’s cozy, warm and the staff are friendly. I indulged in one of my favourite things – oysters – and slurped them down happily.
Unfortunately we only got to spend two nights in the Port due to time constraints but I will definitely be back with many books and will stay away from coloured fishermen.