Who said it was all about wine, anyway?

What is famed as arguably the longest wine route in the world, proves to be a lot of fun with non-drinkers such as children. That is if you count out numerous Appletizers, Fanta, and strawberry milkshakes at your various pit-stops and stop-overs along the R62 ...

Hot chocolate in Franschhoek
We set off from the deep south of the Cape Peninsula and headed for Franschhoek via Baden Powell Drive. Long sandy beaches, sea gulls, fishermen, rolling hills covered in vineyards and a massive strawberry made it a rather entertaining drive. The massive strawberry marked our first stop for a first run to the loo at the petrol station opposite Annandale road shortly before you pass Spier Wine Estate. We waved at the Burchell's Zebras, black springbokke and wildebeest en passant before we turned toward Stellenbosch and on to the culinary capital of South Africa via Helshoogte Pass. The new heritage square centre at the end of the main road delighted us with some mean muffins, hot chocolate and cappuccino. And ample space and time for my girl to run around and shake off some excess energy.

Traversing the Franschhoek Pass, we took a last glimpse into the gorgeous valley below and let little one take some holiday snapshots of us. No sooner were we back in the car, than a troop of baboons got us to giggle at their clumsy circus acts, and before we knew it, we were heading to Villiersdorp, leaving misted-over Theewaterskloof Dam and aromatic fynbos behind us. On the more boring stretch toward Worcester, CDs spiked with amazing fairy tales managed to keep everybody under 1.2m happy.

Doing the cart-wheels in Robertson
The R60 took us straight to Robertson, and arriving there around lunch time, we had our tummies rumbling. We cruised through the town of roses until we reached the Dutch Reformed church, where we offloaded picnic blanket and basket. Right opposite the place of worship, there is a park which we shared with learners and P'n'P workers on a mid-day break. Cheese crackers, water melons, biltong and apple juice were digested quickly with some roly polies, hand stands and cart-wheels on the lawn.

Next stop was Ashton. The wine store outside town enticed us big ones to stock up with some local red, white and muscadel for the cold Karoo evenings ahead. And shortstuff had fun looking at the brass sculptures - butterfly candelholders, warthogs and elegant cranes which we almost knocked over while passing the rugby ball on the parking lot in front of the shop. Fearing the shop owner's wrath, we were quick to carry on to Montagu.

Kicking the ball at Montagu's Nature Garden
The R62 bestowed its full magic on us when driving through the tunnel at the Old English Fort opening up a window to the reed-lined Cogmans river showing us the way into Montagu. Home to deliciously dried fruit, we were pleasantly surprised to find heavenly mango and guava titbits on the bed side tables of the Four Oaks Guest House which would be our home for two nights. Arriving there by 14:00, we still had the entire afternoon to spend under the sun. And oh yes, she was out! (That's what we love about the Karoo in winter). We packed our dear rugby ball, and headed for the Botanical Garden. Being mid-week and after the school holiday, we were the only ones there, admiring flowering aloes and vygies. And the mud on our takkies after we tried to get some up-close shots of the Arum lilies in the rivulet! After a mouth-watering wild mushroom gnocchi with a seasonal vegetable bouquet, and fish fingers and chips at the Templeton's restaurant at the Four Oaks, we retired to Tom and Jerry in our 2-bedroomed cottage. What bliss ... 300 DVDs to choose from, a kid's paradise.

Soaking and splashing in the hot springs
The following sunny morning was spent diving, floating and soaking at the Hot Springs outside town. 35 degrees water temperature and blue skies above truely meant heaven for us all. All skin loose, we followed the magnificent Lover's Walk back to town centre. My girl collapsed on her bed for a 2 hour sleep, while we parked off on the deck chairs listening to the songs of the birds. And the trucks rolling past. I sneaked off across the road to the Sendelingshuis museum, and sniffed around the Brink Brother's Victorian cash register, Francois Krige's timeless paintings and Honiball's cartoons. A perfect day had to be rounded off with a perfect meal. But this proved to be more of a challenge than anticipated. The Succulents was no longer, Josephine's was not yet, and we didn't know about the fine cuisine at Mimosa Lodge. The romantic lights of the Romano Restaurant lured us into what turned out to be the worst tagliatelle and pizza ever. We should have listened to the local lady at the Olive House.

Pork and Chop at the Karoo Saloon
But a meal gone wrong could not stop us in our mission to journey on. The next day, we left Montagu in the direction of Barrydale. And what would this stretch of the famous R62 be without a stop-over at the Karoo Saloon? Our 5-year old passenger had a whale of a time with two potbelly pigs, Pork & Chop, the parrot Scrumps and bull terrier, Titan. And on we went, to Barrydale. The OK shop provided us with the necessary food and drinks needed for our anticipated stay on a farm outside Ladismith that night. We could not leave Barrydale without peeking into the junk shop Negosiegat. We bought some great entertainment for the journey ahead: colouring-in books and party masks.

Wearing clown masks at Wolverfontein Farm Cottages
Wearing clown and bat masks, we added to the grotesque and magnetic set up of the Wolverfontein Farm 20 km south of Ladismith. Ashley welcomed us warmly and lead us into our spacious D'Waenhuis farm cottage. The afternoon was spent bundu bashing along the dry river bed, colouring in, singing, and as the evening sun set on our stoep, we started seeing a whole new face to the many totems, masks and strewn artifacts on this enticing piece of land. Snuggling up to the gas heater, we shortly drifted into a peaceful sleep accompanied by the shriek of owls. My girl was probably dreaming of her dancing at Ronnies Sex Shop that afternoon, and my sister of her playing the piano at said wild west pub covered in wall scribbles, panties and party pictures.

With the rise of the sun, we bid farewell to the Karoo farm as this was to be our biggest leg of our trip: we had to be back in Cape Town by the evening. And still wanted to finally visit Matjiesfontein. It was probably a good thing that the Port Festival in Calitzdorp was not quite in full swing that Saturday morning. And also, that my girl was not wily enough yet to ask for a visit to an ostrich farm and the Cango Caves when we arrived in Oudtshoorn. We did however put in an hour's stop at the Pancake House in van Riebeeck street where she found a basket of toys to play with and a sugary cinnamon covered pancake to devour.

Elephantastic drive through Meiringspoort
And on we went along the N12 to the charming village of De Rust which was a hit with my girl because of the purple elephant opposite the tourism information centre. A donkie kartjie was waiting to take visitors past Karoo-styled dwellings and the many art and craft shops in the village at the southern entrance to Meiringspoort. Our drive through the Swartberg was as spectacular as we'd hoped for. We made our obligatory stop halfway into the poort at the sandstone rock on which C.J. Langenhoven is said to have carved the name Herrie (the elephant in Herrie op die Tramspoer). It was our starting point to an elephant story which we spun while meandering from one drift to another. Had it been summer, we would have definitely gone for a swim in the crystal clear pool below the 55m tall waterfall near the northern exit of this spectacular drive. But once out the poort, we were rewarded with an endless view into the Great Karoo landscape.

Counting windmills and funny-shaped clouds outside Prins Albert
Prins Albert was our next stop en route. We took a slow drive past filigreed Victorian-style facades and the Dutch Reformed Church but time did not permit us to do full justice to this inspiring town. Formerly attracting thousands of diggers during the gold rush, the town attracted us with arty shops, cafes and architectural gems. However, we only put in a short pit-stop at at the Lazy Lizard before heading for the long stretch on the R 407 cutting through part of the Koup region dissected by the Gamka river. Well, there was not much water flowing in it, but the water reservoirs were filled to the brim. We passed time by counting windmills and describing the shapes of all the white fluffy clouds above us. There was no single other car or pedestrian, and only 43 sheep. Well, that's how far my girl could count. A beautiful vastness which can really work on a child's attention span. I think we were blessed with our young companion.

Chasing ghosts at the Lord Milner Hotel
At Prins Albert Road we turned left onto the N1. What a hectic change in pace. Speeding past Laingsburg, we arrived in Matjiesfontein about an hour later. And just in time as my girl now really had enough of counting VW golfs and bakkies, a game we made up along the N1 in order to keep her from getting too niggly. South Africa's finest Victorian buildings masquerading as a town surprised us with a generous park opening up behind the Lord Milner Hotel. We played hide and seek among the tall Bluegum trees and behind the Travelers Chapel and dangled our feet in the crystal clear swimming pool. A ghost hunt up into the very attic of the hotel put my child in high spirits again and when the Shosholoza train arrived in the station we truely couldn't have wished for better entertainment.

©Text and photos: Barbara Ulmi