The privilege was mine and the other nogschleppers who joined James Clarke and his other Tour de Farce mates last week on a little jaunt around the Bethlehem area. I use the term "nogschlepper" because it is very difficult to crack the nod to do the proper tour de farce tours around Europe. Needless to say I was a very happy nogschlepper in the midst of this crowd of seasoned hacks and amateur cyclists.
The whole thing was organised by Liz Szabo and Chris Murray of ESCAPE CYCLE TOURS (kept it in uppercase because they are that good). They arranged everything and probably had duels to the death every night in deciding who would ride along with us. When one of our number chose to drive the bus Liz probably set a world record for getting out of her driving clothes and into her cycling clothes, so keen was she to pedal away (in the big ring I must stress). I have always wanted to do a JHB-Durban cycling trip and was never sure whether I could rope either Daffy or Pooh in to drive the car – I now know that there is only one company to call when you need something like this done, ESCAPE CYCLE TOURS.
Before we left we all met at a lunch at Derek du Plessis' house to meet everyone and it was plain intimidating – around the table were the advisors to Gutenberg when he printed his bible. And it was this lot who were planning to ride around the Free State (my age is a good twenty years below the average). So to keep up appearances I hopped on Craig the next morning (Craig is my trusty bicycle), meandered up Munro Drive and declared myself drinking fit for the trip. The actual cycling would have to sort itself out on the tour.
On the Monday morning I got to meet the crowd in full
James Clarke (original)
Renowned science writer cum author and celebrated employer of Threnody (oh yes – he also writes that Stoep Talk column in the Star). James watched with mild amusement as the inmates (nogschleppers) took over the asylum (Tour de Farce'n ha'penny).
Peter Sullivan (original)
Who on earth wears a floppy hat under a cycling helmet. Peter Sullivan, that's who. It is likely that this trip afforded Peter more sleeping time than he has experienced in a long time, because if there was a person in our entourage who was going to hit the locals (and their pubs) with his wit, it was going to be Peter. Unfortunately the keys for the bus were kept from him and so he retired with the rest of us.
Jimmy Mould (original)
Jimmy wasn't lying when he told us his bicycle was bought when bell bottoms were popular, nevertheless he cut a very mean figure on those hills. Jimmy volunteered his services as tour treasurer – we bankrupted him three times.
Derek du Plessis (partial schlepper)
Now here is a man with a story. He is an ex air force pilot (Harvards), a retired marketing type guy and somewhat hack. Derek and I shared a mutual admiration for beer, something that we paraphrased at every possible occasion. And Derek's six foot two plus frame won the farce and half pint – not bad for a man whose favourite mode of transport has never included a bicycle.
Ellis Mortimer (nogschlepper)
I'm not sure that Ellis would agree with his nogschlepper status – but I couldn't catch him on the nastiest hill in the Free State to discuss this. I did register my disdain at Ellis' amateurish cycling prowess (and even more amateurish bicycle) but alas he took the punishment and ordered more beer.
Graham Holness (nogschlepper)
Every expedition has to have a resident technobuff and doctor – we got them both in the form of Graham. The only useful gadget he brought with him broke (his camera), but I really enjoyed seeing the graphs he pulled from his other toys – some of which we believe might still be on some road somewhere. Graham gave me a great run for my money – and many was the time that I sat on his wheel to get up hills that he swore were beyond his surgical capabilities.
Bernard Janisch (nogschlepper)
AKA – Double O M (thanks Hulme). My father's youngest brother. Quite possibly the looniest of all Janisch's – actually he IS the looniest of all Janisch's (we tend to be quite straight down the line). Bernard has opted for a life of livery in the Natal Midlands and has modified his somewhat eccentric persona to include deerstalkers. No hill, beer or anecdote was beyond him.
Peter Janisch (nogschlepper)
My father actually turned out to be the second eldest of the lot (after James Clarke) and decided that seeing that he last ran a comrades in 1986 he had every right to ride every inch of the journey. And so he did. I'm not sure that he was that active in bankrupting Jimmy Mould because he followed a strict routine of not drinking so much and developing deep strategies to conquer those Free State roads. Bernard and I had to represent him in the bankrupting. I'm really proud of my old man – he's a true competitor and an excellent sport.
Chris Murray (schlepper)
Chris is the other half of ESCAPE CYCLE TOURS. His forte is bringing the wrong pedals with him and still making a plan. Once he gets on his bike he then attaches two cycling tubes to the saddle and drags people up hills. He was a true schlepper (and bus driver and kit lugger). A fantastic tour guide and host.
Liz Szabo (schlepper)
The better half of ESCAPE CYCLE TOURS. Liz actually wanted to ride – she could have happily piloted the van but no!!!. She made a mockery of me and Craig up the hills – something that my poor male ego has had to learn to live with. She and Chris are the perfect tour guides. Nothing got them down or put them off, and when you are the custodian of a bunch of men a long way from home – there is a lot that can get you put off.
THE HIGHLIGHT
We stayed in some OK places like the Maluti Mountain Lodge in Clarens (terrible coffee and vaguely better food) but all that was forgotten when compared to Prynnsberg. I cannot explain how fantastic this place was. We took a step back in time (about 120 years). The place is steeped in eccentric history and still looks pretty much like it did when it was in its heyday during the Boer War. It has been bought by Rick and Sue Melvill who regard this place as a work in progress and who will tell you that it's still not ready for the mainstream tourist market. Bollocks I say!!! Their hospitality, the food and the history kept us enthralled. There is a massive rock at the entrance of the house that they have turned into a cinema and this only one of the amazing features of this place. Please take a look at their web site – it doesn't do the place justice but it is a fair overview of what you can expect. If you do choose to stay there then you must insist that Rick tells you the story of the Newberry family and the ghosts (that were too scared of my guitar playing so they stayed away from me).
I would do this again every month if I could. It was a fantastic blend of people, places, beer and organisation – not to mention celebrity. If James and co do another Nogschlepper tour, you'd do well to beg a berth.