THE CLARKS ON HOLIDAY

The almost total lack of holidays away from home during her childhood seems to have spurred Pat to make up for lost time. Over the years during their marriage, not a year went by without the Clarks packing up and haring off somewhere. Proper coverage of all their trips would fill a book by itself but Pat has decided instead to pick some, where major occurrences made the holidays memorable.

Heather was just two months old when Chris decided on Port St Johns as an attractive destination. Those were pre-disposable baby nappies times and Chris borrowed a trailer in which to tote all the baby paraphernalia and their luggage. Unfortunately Chris had not considered the state of the roads in those rural Transkei areas and their trip from the main road down to Port St Johns was a nightmare. The trailer bounced and lurched to such an extent that Pat feared that it would fling itself over the edge and commit suicide to end its suffering. Pat and Michael were both carsick by the time they arrived at their accommodation. The accommodation was rather Spartan and basic but at the time it was all they could afford so they settled in as best they could. When they unpacked their groceries, they discovered that a bottle of homemade jam had been broken, leaving everything in the grocery box, a sticky mess. The bits of broken glass had shaved the label clean off a bottle of Old Brown Sherry which Chris had deemed an indispensible provision. At least that bottle was still intact, much to Chris’ relief.

On their very visit to the beach, Chris was shaking the sand out of his towel when his wedding ring slipped off his finger and disappeared into the sand. Despite their best efforts, they never found the ring again, much to their disappointment. The rest of the stay there was pleasantly bucolic but spoiled by the thought of the return trip along that horrific road. After that experience Pat was never again keen to have a Transkei holiday.

On another occasion, they were travelling along a corrugated rural road somewhere in the Eastern Cape, when the exhaust pipe broke off just before the silencer and suddenly the car was roaring like jet taking off. Poor little Heather got a huge fright and burst into tears so copious that they had to actually stop the car and pacify her. They eventually rumbled into Barkly East late in the day, to be told that the garage could not effect a repair until the next morning. It meant an unscheduled bitterly cold, overnight stop at the Barkly East Hotel, not the grandest hotel by any stretch of imagination.

Still in the same general area and on yet another bumpy dirt road, they suddenly noticed dust was choking up the interior of the car. Chris assumed that the kids were travelling with open windows and when they denied this, he glanced in the rear view mirror and discovered that the back door of the station wagon was wide open. As they were driving up a hill at the time, he pessimistically assumed some of their luggage had bounced on out but to his great relief everything was still intact and in place in the luggage area. In Heather’s famous self-coined words, things were just a bit stofferish.

When they were in Louis Trichardt, Chris was keen on a safari in Botswana so he packed up the two boys and off they went on their adventure, leaving Pat and Heather behind. Before leaving, Chris had egged her on to take their old green beetle which they had named “Lady Jane”, which they had taken over from me and go down and visit Mom. The trip turned into a nightmare because the car broke down in Pietersburg and Pat was faced with a dilemma: Turn back or keep going. She rather unwisely got back on the road to Ladybrand, nursing the old car which she had packed full of tropical fruit for Mom and eventually made it to the Free State by the time darkness fell. Pat prayed quietly and fervently while Heather kept singing her Sunday school songs over and over and eventually that old faithful beetle limped into Ladybrand at 9.30. She would not stop for anything as she feared she’d not be able to start the car again and it was just as well because the car made it to Mom’s back gate and had to be pushed inside eventually. The garage confirmed that the damage was terminal and the car had to be fitted with a reconditioned engine at great cost. Despite this shock, they had an excellent holiday with Mom while Chris and the boys had a memorable time on the “safari”. There was an occasion when elephants passed so close to their camp at night they could actually hear those gargantuan tummies rumbling. Baboons also raided their camp and nicked all their fruit but nothing dampened the experience for them and a pretty good holiday was had by all.

On yet another occasion they were on their way to Margate and as was his wont, Chris had taken a less beaten track somewhere between Ixopo and Margate when the Peugeot’s gear lever snapped off clean an inch or two from the gearbox. They were fine in second gear while going up a steep hill but we stumped when the road leveled out and they had to change up. Chris stopped eventually and with pliers managed to slip the stumpy gear lever into 4th gear. Michael had an unfortunate habit of needing to “go” at inopportune times and places and needless to say, this was another of those times but his father just kept his foot down and kept rolling. He drove through back streets in Margate to avoid traffic lights and stop signs and eventually got them to the block of flats where they were to stay. The following day, he somehow wangled the stub into 1st gear and drove to the nearest garage without changing gears.

In Louis Trichardt, Pat had a little boy called Edwin in her Sunday school class. The lad had 4 older sisters who bullied him mercilessly and to boot he had never been on holiday or seen the sea, so Pat took pity on him and invited him along with them for a holiday in Margate. Every aspect of the holiday was new to Edwin and Pat hugely enjoyed watching his reactions to the new experiences he was constantly being exposed to. On the way, because they had left late, they booked in to the Holiday Inn at Ermelo. Pat & Chris shared a room while the kids bunked in the room next door. After while Heather came along and told them that Edwin was continually riding up and down in the lift. It turned out that he had never been in a lift before which felt like a spaceship to him and he just loved the experience to bits.

It was a time of severe drought and Edwin quite seriously informed them all that the sea can dry up just like dams and rivers. She tried very hard to explain to him that the sea was really vast and would never dry up and even though he looked dubious, she left it at that. All along the coastal road to Margate, they were continually being presented with fresh views of the ocean and Edwin kept asking if each new sighting was of a different sea. He certainly seemed impressed by all that water. They arrived in Margate quite late and nipped down to the beach for a quick peek. It was high tide at the time and the rocks just below the beach swimming pool were under water. The next morning at low tide, the rocks were fully exposed, much to the delight of Edwin who saw this as evidence that the sea was in fact drying up as he had theorized. He couldn’t wait to rub Pat’s nose in this “obvious” evidence.

Edwin had a brand new pair of pyjamas which his mom had bought especially for his holiday. Pat did everyone’s washing at the Laundromat and simply popped Edwin’s new kit in with the rest of the clothes, not for a moment dreaming that the pyjamas might shrink . But shrink they did, much to their amusement when he appeared from the bathroom that evening. Edwin on the other hand quite seriously believed that he had suddenly grown and asked Pat if she thought that the sea was to blame. Pat was able to convince him that it was just his pyjamas which had shrunk and added that she owed him another pair for ruining his holiday pyjamas.

Every day with Edwin was a revelation as he had quite a different take on life compared to everyone else. Pat took lots of snaps on holiday and she presented him with his own album, to remind him of his first holiday ever.

From Springfontein one year, they went down to Nature’s Valley for a holiday. They spent time collecting rounded pebbles with which to decorate their garden back home. Neil wandered off alone and fell down onto some razor sharp rocks. He eventually reappeared covered all over in blood from a wound on his head. His parents got the shock of their lives and ran all the way back to their rented house, left Michael and Heather with some friends and bundled Neil into the car. They rushed him to hospital in George but it turned out he had a fractured skull and needed to get to a surgeon in Bloemfontein for treatment. He spent the night there but the next day found them rushing back to Nature’s Valley to pack up and head for home. Pat had Neil’s head cradled in her lap during that nightmare drive to Bloemfontein. The operation focused on removing bone fragments which could easily have damaged the brain or severed arteries but nothing untoward happened and he came away not permanently impaired in any way. The Springfonteiners spoiled him rotten and he got more get well cards and gifts than he ever got for his birthday or Christmas.

Once the children had all left the nest, the Clarks took an extensive trip through Namibia. It was one of those holidays which produced a plethora of memories best forgotten rather than being an unforgettable trek. Their first overnight stop in Namibia was at the Hardap Dam, a much neglected and rundown resort on the banks of the Hardap River. Pat rates that night as the most uncomfortable of her life. The moment the sun set, every available Namibian bug descended on them, where they sweltered in their chalet, which had only a rickety, rusty old fan and no air-conditioning. They did not dare open a window as there was an immediate insect invasion if they did and with windows closed, it was too hot to think of sleeping. They went so far as to sprinkle their sheets with cold water and set the fan to blow on them and while this did the trick, it did not last long before both insects and heat returned with a vengeance. Pat welcomed the dawn so they could get out of that hellhole.

NOTE: I stayed at Hardap a couple of decades earlier and rather liked the place. On several occasions I made for the resort on weekends and recall nothing untoward. Mind you, I was drinking los of rum at the time and always had a can of insect spray with me so either the mossies avoided me or else I got them before they got me. I don’t recall heat even though I was there in summer.

Next they booked in at the Daan Viljoen resort on the outskirts of Windhoek and while there received an urgent message for Chris to phone his sister. Upon phoning Anet, Chris was informed that his father had passed away a few days previously. Because they were so far from home, it would have taken a week for them to get back for a funeral. They were alienated from the old guy and his second wife in any event, so the decision was made not to attend the funeral.

They were travelling in an Opel Rekord at the time. At the very gates of the Etosha Nationak Park at Okaukuejo, their car broke down. They were literally in the middle of nowhere, far from the nearest town or camp inside the game reserve. The Parks Board staff at the gate had no desire to help and simply shrugged their shoulders apathetically when asked what could be done. Then a car with a family of 4 in it pulled up and a man got out and walked over to where they were parked with their bonnet open. He popped under their bonnet and immediately diagnosed that their cambelt had broken. A true Samaritan, he immediately shelved their travel plans and offered them a tow back to the nearest town which was Outjo which was a good 120 km away. He did not travel slowly and Pat recalls how white Chris’ knuckles were on the steering wheel, during that insane ride. They arrived early on a Friday afternoon and found a garage which could fix the car but did not have a cambelt for the Opel in stock. The Samaritan would not hear of continuing with his journey and leaving his wife and sons with Pat, he and Chris raced off to Otjiwarongo, some 70 km away, where they found the necessary cambelt. Once they were 100% certain that the Clarks would manage from there on, they continued on their original way. They would not accept any compensation and the Clarks were just astonished by their generosity and willingness to help. They spent the night at Outjo and the car was repaired the following day and they were able to return to their original travel plan.

After a most enjoyable trip through Etosha, they headed for Rundu. Situated on the Okavango River which is the border with Angola, Rundu is on the way to Popa Falls, a resort further down the Okavango River. Pat found the place a bit too rustic for her taste and for starters a really huge spider in the shower cubicle turned her away from showering for the rest of their stay. She fled back to their cabin and stayed well away from the ablution facilities thereafter. The windows in the cabins contained no glass – only mesh screens and canvas flaps. When Pat lay on her bed and looked up at the roof, she saw a rat the size of a small cat scampering along a rafter. She screamed and leapt off her bed at high speed. The rat disappeared but they had no idea if it was still inside somewhere or if it had fled outside. Chris tried unsuccessfully to convince Pat that it was just a small mouse but she knew what she had seen and it had not been a mouse by any stretch of imagination. Several times during the night, Pat crawled into bed with Chris but he responded by just wearily moving to the other bed, leaving her exposed again. In desperation she headed to the car and spent the rest of the night most uncomfortably trying to sleep in the back seat. The next morning she managed to convince Chris that they did not need to spend a second night at this camp and they set a course for home on the sandy rural roads of Botswana. Those roads really taxed Chris’ driving skills and they nearly got stuck in thick sand on several occasions.

The Clarks had many a happy and memorable holiday as a family as they tried to show their kids as much of the country as possible. They also had trips to Zimbabwe and Swaziland as well as more Namibian and Botswana holidays.