These photos are by my cousin, Justin, who takes loads of photos of the area of the Eastern Cape from which I hail. These were all taken in Port Alfred, the small fishing town where I spent all holidays when I was young. At that time the town was full of small wood and corrugated iron cottages, with outside toilets and only brack water. Over time it has been invaded by rich people who have built giant holiday homes, but my family retains their quaint wood and iron house with outside toilet and shower. Surrounded by huge mansions, the little cottage stands firm. So many wonderful family memories have been made there.
Growing up there, we used to wake up early, eat breakfast and then walk to the beach where we stayed all day. We returned home salty, sunburned and hungry when it started to get dark. After dinner, we were in bed early, remembering to blow out the candles and light the mosquito coils before we went to sleep. Looking back, I can almost smell the coconut suntan oil (no SPF in those days), and feel the salt on my skin and hair (which never looked better than when it was bleached by the sun and tangled by the wind). I used to develop a dark tan and wear silver bracelets all the way up my arm. When we got older we would go to discos at the local hotels and dance the night away. When we weren’t doing that we were going up the beach in the old Landrover to go fishing, up the beach in the family bathtub-like boat to go fishing and picnicking.
The Eastern Cape is the poorest province of South Africa. It does not have the in-your-face beauty as Cape Town (which is epic) or Durban (which is like a tropical jungle paradise). But the long stretches of deserted white beaches, the sand dunes and the blue sky is a beauty like no other.
