Graaff-Reinet-Part 1: Laughter, Rattles, and Rugby Dreams.

 

Our Trip to Graaff-Reinet – Part 1

There’s a certain kind of magic in setting off on the open road — where laughter rides shotgun and the unknown hums just beneath the tires.

This week, Niko — my brave ten-year-old grandson — embarked on a five-day rugby tour. Five days away from home is no small thing at that age, and naturally, his mom (and just about every other mom) wasn’t ready to wave them off alone. The children are staying at the boarding school; the parents found their own corners to sleep.

We chose to camp. My second proper test with the caravan — and the last one before the bigger journey that’s been calling my name.

Laughter… and a Few Troubles Along the Road

Today the road was alive with our laughter — the kind that bubbles up from deep inside. But along with the laughter came a few… unexpected companions:

• A new rattle in the front grill.
• A loose wheel cap shimmying its own little dance.
• A bolt snapping on the caravan stand.
• An unidentified rattle from somewhere mysterious (because of course, there is always one).

True to the Karoo’s quiet magic, we rolled into town and took the car to Hi-Q.

They found the culprit — a broken bracket causing the front-end rattle — and, in a gesture so typical of Karoo kindness, they simply fixed it. No charge.

Just a nod, a smile, and a simple, “Safe travels.”

There are still places in this world where generosity runs deeper than dust — and Graaff-Reinet is one of them.

For all the mechanical protest, we arrived safely. Dusty, perhaps. A little rattled ourselves. But hearts light.

Day Two: Rugby Under the Mountains

The Karoo gifted us the perfect weather today — that rare, unspoiled kind of day where you could almost hear the Earth breathing.

Watching the boys play, with ancient mountains rising behind them (whose names I do not know, but whose presence I felt like a benediction), I felt something old stir inside me — nostalgia, pride, a memory of time’s swift passing.

Graaff-Reinet: A Grand Old Town

This place is a living museum, stitched together with history and stories. Among its jewels are:

• The majestic Dutch Reformed Church (Groot Kerk), standing proud and tall.
• The Reinet House Museum, once a parsonage, now filled with treasures of a bygone era.
• The Old Library, a charming relic from the days when books were lifelines.
• Streets lined with Cape Dutch architecture that whisper stories if you listen closely.

Camping at Profcon Resort

We are tucked away at Profcon Resort, a spot that feels almost enchanted — right in town, yet surrounded by nature’s chatter.

Ducks, chickens, dogs, and little creatures weave between tents and caravans.

The showers are tucked into the trees — open-air, yet private enough to feel almost sacred.

There’s something about washing under the sky that scrubs more than just your skin — it scrubs your soul clean, too.

Indulgences and Old Friends

Of course, it wouldn’t be a road trip without surrendering to small sins: chip-and-dip, Death by Chocolate Magnum ice cream, and cold beers.

A combination my future self may frown at — but my present self savors shamelessly.

And then — a cherry on top — we bumped into old friends from years ago.

It’s a rare and beautiful thing when time falls away so easily, when laughter picks up as if it never missed a beat.

Frontier’s Karoo Restaurant and a Bold Beer

The evening began with a beer at Frontier’s Karoo Restaurant. ( And ended way past midnight around campfire lost in endless talk and sweet reminiscing)

I ordered a beer named Fokof — yes, you read that right. (I laughed too)

Crude name. Excellent taste.

In the Karoo, you raise a glass to the unexpected. Always.

The name is quite misleading because the taste would make you want to stay for more.

“Some journeys begin with a plan. The best ones begin with a rattle, a laugh, and a sky full of stars.”

Did something here speak to you?

Leave a comment if you feel moved, or simply sit with me in quiet.

If you’d like to walk this road with me, follow Nomadic Grandmother for new stories.

— x Elsabe