Well, our long awaited trip to South Africa is now over, and we had a fantastic time. On Friday 10 March we flew from Cardiff Airport, less than a mile from the house, and caught the City Hopper to Amsterdam. This connected with the daytime KLM flight to Johannesburg, so we could check in at Cardiff and didn't have to collect our luggage again until arriving in SA at 21:40. Very civilised! In Jo'burg we were met by Nolene Lossau, who had generously agreed to put us up for the weekend. Nolene and I had never met but had been in e-mail contact for some years as we are both members of a South African genealogy mailing list and had collaborated on some transcriptions of passenger lists. She lives in Sandton, a lovely suburb of Jo'burg. When we arrived we were particularly grateful for her offer of accommodation. Normally when Rod and I travel in Europe we arrive by train, find a hotel as near as possible to the central railway station, and see the city by public transport. We hadn't appreciated quite how non existent public transport is in South Africa, nor to what extent the business life of Jo'burg has relocated to the suburbs. On the Saturday we slept quite late (still on UK time!!), then Nolene drove us to Gold Reef City and arranged to collect us again at 5pm. We did the underground mine tour, saw the gold pouring, and looked at some of the preserved historical buildings. The theme park area we largely ignored, though Rod could not resist a ride on the Anaconda roller coaster! After a late lunch we crossed the road to the Apartheid Museum, which we found fascinating. On the way home Nolene kindly drove out of her comfort zone to find Pretoria Street, in Troyeville, where my great grandmother Ellen Gilstain (or Webster as she was by then) had lived in the late 1890s. That evening we all went out to a restaurant in Sandton and we both tried something new; Rod had kingklip, a South African fish, and I had my first taste of ostrich. Scrumptious!

On the Sunday it was a really hot day. Nolene had organised a braai (barbecue) for various other people from the genealogical mailing list who wanted to meet me. We all nattered about family history and the spouses drank beer, played with the seven full size pinball machines which Nolene's partner has restored as a hobby, and periodically disappeared indoors to find out the latest in the one day cricket international against Australia that was taking place just up the road. South Africa won off the last ball in a match where nigh on 900 runs were scored in a day, so even Rod, who is not a sports fan, was lured in to watch the end!

The next morning we were due to catch the 13:15 overnight train to Port Elizabeth, but the newspaper headlines said that the workers from Spoornet, the railway company, were planning a strike and a protest march near Park Station. Nolene rang and ascertained that our train was still due to run, but in case of unruly crowds we left early and got a secure taxi to the back entrance of the station. As it turned out the demonstration was very subdued and organised (unlike a strike a week later in the security industry, which apparently resulted in violence and rubber bullets being fired) and we were able to sit in the station cafe and watch the world go by for an hour before boarding the train. From various things we had been told we had half expected to find the centre of Johannesburg to be a complete ghost town with tumbleweed blowing around, but were quite cheered to see the number of small businesses being carried on by the black population, especially as we understand unemployment is as high as 45%. It may not be what we would expect from the centre of a big, modern city, but it did have a certain vibrancy and we didn't feel at all intimidated or unsafe while waiting at the station. Of course we had to ignore numerous beggars and offers to carry our luggage off into the blue yonder, but the only really persistent beggar was in fact a white teenager who didn't have his fare home!! We had booked a first class sleeping compartment, which meant it was just the two of us. It wasn't first class by European standards of comfort, but it was perfectly adequate, and there is no way that you would get any sort of ticket, let alone a sleeping berth, for a 20 hour train journey anywhere in Europe for the ridiculously low price of Ł35!! The train was crowded in the seated areas, judging by the people getting on and off at intermediate stations, but I think we were about the only people in our carriage, and we were right next to the dining car. Nolene had given us a picnic, for which we were very grateful at lunch time, but in fact we had a very good steak and chips in the dining car in the evening and a cooked breakfast the next morning. We are so glad we went by train, as it did give us a sense of the vastness of the country and the changing landscapes. We could see the shanty towns south of Jo'burg from the safety of the train, but were impressed that even in all this deprivation the African school children were obviously wearing their uniforms with pride - including the woolly jumpers! - and were all waving cheerily as the train passed. In deprived areas of Britain trains are more likely to have stones hurled at them!

The train left on time and it got dark around Kroonstad - a fabulous sunset. Some time during the night we must have lost two hours in the single track section, because when we woke up at 6am we were in Cradock, which we should have passed at 4am. This was actually to our advantage; my father had started his years in South Africa in Cradock, and it also meant that we were able to see the whole of the Eastern Cape part in daylight. Becky Horne, also from the genealogical mailing list, was due to meet us at 9:15 in Port Elizabeth, but I was able to contact her by mobile phone to tell her not to come until 11:15, and we had a leisurely breakfast in the dining car. When we arrived Becky drove us to the Humewood Hotel, right opposite the beach, and because of the later arrival we were able to check straight into the room. Becky and I had lunch at the Humewood followed by a paddle in the ocean and a good chat, while Rod was taken on a lightning tour of Port Elizabeth's Humewood railway works and the PE docks by a friend of Becky's, a fellow train and shipping buff.

I had arranged via the Internet for us to have a rental car delivered to the Humewood Hotel at 5pm. This is when I discovered that Rod and I had made one fundamental error each in planning the trip, though fortunately neither proved fatal. In Rod's case he saw me packing the eight unused films from the cupboard at home - we get a free film every time we get one developed and had built up a stock pile when James and Tasha went to the States and we developed their films for them. "Good grief", said Rod, "we're only going for a couple of weeks, there's no way we'll get through more than six films". I left two behind, and of course we had to buy two films while we were away! I took my digital camera as well, but that was kept mainly for photographing records in the Cory Library. It did come in very handy on the last day on Cape Point when we came slap up against a couple of ostriches and a family of baboons by the side of the road - just after Rod had used his last shot! My miscalculation was to order a 'Citi Golf or similar' rental car. Firstly I didn't realise that South Africa still makes VW Golfs to an old specification, though even this would have done us. We drive a Nissan Micra, about the smallest car going, and can still get our two small cases in the back. Sadly Tempest's idea of 'or similar' was a Kia Piccanto of minuscule proportions, and one of the cases had to go on the back seat. We tried to upgrade, but there was a big triathlon event on in PE and they didn't have any spare vehicles. We thought we might exchange it on the way back from Grahamstown, but ended up driving it all the way to Cape Town and it coped with all the mountain passes without any problems. At least it was good and cheap!!

On our second day in Port Elizabeth we spent the morning in the nearby museum, where they have a model of the Weymouth, the ship my ancestors sailed to South Africa on. Becky and Dayle then collected us and took us for a tour of the city, taking in all the main tourist sights and including a visit to the Gothenburg III, a Swedish replica of an East Indiaman sailing ship that was visiting the port. Everyone was very friendly; when we parked next to Fort Frederick there was an ex-pat cleaning some graffiti off the pavement. We got chatting, and he took us up to the roof of his block of flats, from where we had a superb view of PE. We ate both nights in restaurants near the museum, just a short walk from the hotel, and extended our culinary experiments to include various types of antelope.

On the Thursday we had planned to drive along the coast to Port Alfred and visit Bathurst before ending up in Grahamstown for six nights, but because we couldn't get the luggage out of sight in the car we drove straight up the N2 and checked in to the guest house at 11am, before heading south again for lunch at the Pig and Whistle in Bathurst. Becky had recommended A Stone's Throw Guest House to us and we had booked by e-mail, and it turned out to be an inspired choice. It was just outside Grahamstown on the Bathurst road, with superb views and a small pool to relax in if the weather was hot. We liked Bathurst, and found Philip Hobbs' house and his grave. We continued on to Port Alfred and sat in a cafe overlooking the mouth of the Kowie River, eating chocolate cake to die for and watching the surf roll in. I could just imagine what it must have been like for the 1820 settlers having to disembark into all that surf.

Our first full day in Grahamstown I had planned to spend in the Cory Library doing some research, and as it happened that was the only really bad day we had weather wise - overcast and rainy with a thick mist - so it was the perfect day to spend in the library. I went first to meet William Jervois, the genealogist at the Albany Museum, with whom I had also been in e-mail contact, and he took me next door to the Cory and showed me the ropes. When he was introduced to Rod and learned of his interest in trains he telephoned the local vicar, also a train enthusiast and a model engineer, and arranged for Rod to spend the morning at the rectory while I searched for information on the Gilstains. I finally found Francis Gilstain's baptism in King William's Town, along with that of a brother of his I knew nothing about, and I found both his marriage to Ellen Hobbs and her subsequent re-marriage to Thomas Webster in Cathcart, as well as other bits and pieces, so I was very happy with my day. Rod also spent a fascinating afternoon in the Albany Museum learning all about the Frontier Wars.

The next day saw a complete change in the weather - clear skies, temperatures rising to 32° and almost no breeze. We had planned to visit the Camera Obscura that morning, and once again the weather was perfect for our purposes as we could see for miles. We then went back to the Rev.Goodfellow's, as he was running his 5" gauge steam engine round the rectory garden, and Rod was able to have a go at the controls. By this time the sweltering heat was getting to us, so after lunch at the rectory we went back to the B&B for a dip in the pool before going to visit Marielle Ford (also on the genealogy mailing list) and her family for 'drinks at 5:30'. They live in a magnificent 100 year old house in Grahamstown. 'Drinks at 5:30' were served on the terrace along with quite considerable nibbles, and we ended up staying all evening, having a very interesting chat and setting the world to right. We found all the South Africans quite incredibly hospitable.

On Sunday we drove to nearby Salem, another 1820 settler village, and also drove around Grahamstown taking pictures of the older settler houses without all the traffic. We went up to the new 1820 Settler Monument on the hill overlooking Grahamstown, which is actually a visitor/arts centre built to look like a settler ship, but I'm afraid we couldn't see it as anything other than a rather ugly concrete blot on the landscape. Our hostess had arranged for us to have a game drive at the local Pumba reserve in the afternoon, so we had a relaxing few hours at the B&B with our books until it was time to present ourselves at Pumba at 3:30. It then turned out that they had got their bookings mixed up and had a big wedding party that day, so asked if we could re-schedule for Tuesday. We were a bit miffed at first, thinking we had wasted one of our precious days, but in fact things turned out for the best. Firstly we hadn't appreciated that the Tuesday was a public holiday in South Africa, and if we hadn't eventually done the game drive on that day we might have been struggling to find things open. We also decided on the Sunday afternoon that as we were on the road and had a full tank of petrol we might as well drive somewhere, so we went over to King William's Town. I had planned to come back from Cathcart via KWT the next day, but going there on the Sunday enabled us to spend more time in the Cathcart area and come home by a prettier route. My great grandfather Francis Gilstain had been born in KWT in 1858 when his father Edmund William Gilstain, a chemist, had been involved with Dr.Fitzgerald in setting up the Grey Hospital, so I was pleased to be able to take a picture of the hospital, now a private clinic. The drive over from Grahamstown had been very scenic, and we were able to have a look round KWT before the light failed, but then we got ourselves a quick bite at a Wimpy bar attached to a filling station and headed back to Grahamstown. We hadn't intended to drive in the dark in South Africa, except perhaps a mile or so from a B&B to a local restaurant in the evening, and getting back to Grahamstown in the pitch dark, albeit on the main N2 highway, was quite an experience. We very nearly came to grief when we came round a bend and found a donkey stock still in the middle of the carriage way. Fortunately for us and the donkey, which was side on to us, it had a smidgeon of white on its tail!!

Driving in South Africa was a bit like being in a time warp. Every time you drove into a filling station an attendant would appear to fill up the tank and ask you if you'd like the oil and water checked, and the road signs and markings were all very reminiscent of Britain in the 1960s. Rod and I were also reminded of the days prior to standardisation of European cars when we would drive each other's cars and turn on the windscreen wipers every time we wanted to use the indicators. The Kia had the indicators on the right, so we had a very clean windscreen!! As South Africa drives on the left I was quite happy to be a co-driver, so at least Rod had his chances to view the scenery, and in fact the roads are very well graded up the mountain passes. Even driving a Kia with 'power steering' that appeared non-existent it was not difficult reaching places as long as we stuck to tarred roads. We drove to Cathcart on the Monday via Fort Beaufort, but didn't take the Hogsback route recommended by my aunt. Firstly it was a bit cloudy, and secondly the route from Hogsback to Cathcart is on a grit road, and we didn't fancy driving a Kia Piccanto that far on grit. The route we took was breathtaking enough for us, and we arrived in Cathcart - not much more than a couple of streets these days - in time to go round the local museum and take a photograph of the buildings where Francis Gilstain used to work.

From Cathcart we drove a few miles down the road to Thomas River, where my grandmother's uncle, James Hobbs, had lived. Thomas River has been preserved as a historical village, with the original station (the railway line has since been moved), post office, chapel (complete with Hobbs memorials) and pub. Being a weekday at the end of the season the pub was shut, but we met the landlady out walking her dog and she opened up specially for us. Thomas River was about 4km down a grit road, and we were extremely glad that we hadn't taken the route from Hogsback! Thankfully it was a rental car, because I'm sure we gave it a few new rattles on that trip. Of course the locals all whizz down in large 4x4 vehicles in a cloud of dust!

The following day was our last in Grahamstown and we got to do our game drive at Pumba. We were with one other couple in a large Landrover vehicle, and saw a lioness and some Cape buffalo close up as well as numerous species of antelope, a giraffe, zebra and - a first for us - a pair of secretary birds. Amazing creatures! We had a slap up meal at the lodge afterwards, before driving back through the reserve in the dark to where we had left the cars. Strange to see herds of shining eyes gleaming out of the darkness!

On the Wednesday we headed west from Grahamstown towards the Garden Route. It was a good day for driving; sunny and clear, but not unbearably hot. We weren't quick enough off the mark to avoid the first section of the toll road on the N2. Not that we begrudged the money - all of Ł1 - but we discovered the old road was full of twists and turns and hugged the coast, which was much more scenic. We took a little walk along the dunes at Natures Valley before arriving in George early afternoon. Here we had a fabulous B&B at 10 Caledon Street which I had found on the Internet. The room was positively five star hotel standard and the breakfast magnificent - all for Ł25 per person per night. We had a balcony with a view of the mountains to die for. After dumping the luggage we set out to explore George on foot, and had a look round the museum. Very little of what is there now would have been there when Mum and Dad were there in the 1930s - we were going to take a photo of what we thought was a 19th century post office building next to where St.Winifred's school used to be, only to discover a plaque on it saying it was built in 1948! The next day Rod was in seventh heaven, as we were booked on the Outeniqua steam train from George to Knysna and back, a 67km run along coastal cliffs, inland lagoons, over grades of about 1 in 40 and with a spectacular estuary crossing. The round trip took most of the day with time for lunch at Knysna, which is a nice little tourist town where we were able to make a start on our present shopping. At Knysna the loco uses a turntable right by the station approach before being serviced for the trip back, so Rod's camera was in overdrive.

Before leaving George the next morning I had arranged to meet Elaine Peel, the diocesan archivist, who had very kindly done some research into the records of St.Winifred's Diocesan Girls' School, where Mum used to teach, and she gave me some pictures and extracts from the school magazines which mentioned Mum. I am going to have to update The Poynton Story after this trip! We then took a leisurely drive down to Mossel Bay, where we went round the ship used by Bartolemeu Diaz, the Portuguese explorer who first rounded the Cape. We then drove to Adin and Sharon's Hideaway in Swellendam, the B&B recommended by my aunt. Adin and Sharon certainly do take the concept of B&B on to another plane altogether, and the hospitality was absolutely amazing. We had arranged to arrive in time to go for a two hour drive round the Bontebok Park with Adin, who has written a book on the local flora and fauna. It was good being shown round by such an expert.

From Swellendam we drove up through the mountains to Montagu, where Edmund Gilstain had lived and worked as an apothecary. It is apparently well known for herbal remedies, which is presumably why he ended up going there. The village was very picturesque even today. We then drove along the wine route (we only actually stopped at one vineyard to sample the wares!) to Cape Town, stopping briefly in Worcester. I had told Rod that Worcester was the point where the rail routes from Johannesburg and the Eastern Cape converge en route to Cape Town, so with his unerring nose he found his way to the station, only to find it totally deserted. He got out to take a picture anyway, and five minutes later the Blue Train glided in to the platform. Talk about timing!

In Cape Town we stayed at the Panorama Guest House in Newlands, aptly named because it backed up against Table Mountain and had marvellous views over the city. The driveway was, however, almost vertical, and we decided we were better off parking on the road than relying on the handbrake! Having arrived in Cape Town at about 5pm on the Saturday, just in time for a swim at the guest house and a meal out in Newlands, we spent the whole of Sunday 'doing' the city itself. We visited the castle first, as that is where my 3xgreat grandfather Arthur Gilstain lived and worked, and then walked along to see the cathedral and the Parliament. I confess to being a bit disappointed by Cape Town, or at least the City Bowl, perhaps because everyone else seems to rave about it. The castle was wonderful, as indeed was the cathedral and Parliament, but they were all totally dwarfed by some of the ugliest skyscrapers imaginable. I was also slightly uneasy walking in Cape Town in a way I hadn't been in Jo'burg or PE. We went down to the V&A waterfront for lunch, where again all the character and charm of the place seemed to have been erased and replaced by soulless modern buildings in the same way that the heart has been ripped out of dockland areas in many parts of the UK, Cardiff included. We visited the Maritime Museum and saw pictures of how it used to be - what a shame they had to tear it all down.

The 'tablecloth' had been over the mountain all day, but at lunch time I looked up and saw that the clouds had disappeared, so we rushed back to the car and drove up to the cable car station. Breathtaking views awaited us at the top - even the skyscrapers look great from the top of the mountain - but we had obviously timed it just right as the mist descended again ten minutes later! We drove back via Hout Bay and had dinner at a seafood restaurant at Mariners Wharf, a much more atmospheric place than the touristy V&A. Mind you, the wind can't half blow there! The following day was our last in South Africa. We had to have the car back at the airport by 5pm, but the guest house let us leave our cases and we took the car to explore the Cape Peninsula. We liked Simonstown enormously - I imagine that's what Cape Town looked like once upon a time - and we had an ice cream while watching the antics of a colony of penguins. We then drove down to the Cape of Good Hope and had a really good lunch there, as well as being awestruck by the waves. Then back to the airport and the KLM night flight home to Amsterdam, connecting to the City Hopper to Cardiff once again. A really marvellous holiday.