... and a near death experience!
I had just finished a course in Stellenbosch, South Africa, and was gearing up for a road trip to reconnect with old friends and make some new ones. I found myself crammed into a small hatchback with and local guy, two hilarious Irish guys and a djembe that seemed happy there was a local onboard! Where were we headed? Coffee Bay, on the Transkei.
I’d been reading Long Walk to Freedom by Nelson Mandela, so my mind was primed to soak in the region’s history and beauty. Between the in-car shenanigans and constant laughter, I was mesmerised by the rolling green hills, dotted with brightly coloured huts perched on hilltops. It was surreal.
When we arrived at the backpackers and campsite, we were greeted by a group of kids trying to sell weed and handmade treasures over the fence. Signs around the hostel reminded us not to give lollies to the children — there was no dentist in the Transkei, and bad teeth could cause problems. Instead, the hostel had a programme to nurture young entrepreneurs, teaching the kids how to make bracelets and trinkets to sell. Fair enough — supporting their creativity and work seemed far better than encouraging a begging culture.
The first day, we decided to explore the beach. From the hostel, we trekked over a small hill and arrived at a river outlet spilling into the sea. Locals had warned us the river was only crossable at low tide — otherwise, you’d need to hike a few kilometres down the road to reach the beach. Luckily for us, the tide was low, and it was just a quick 15-metre hop across the water.
The beach was stunning, but the shore break was relentless — the kind that yanks your bikini top up and your bottoms down in one motion. Brutal, but totally worth it. The water was crystal-clear, glimmering under the sun, and the place felt like a slice of untouched paradise.
That evening, we met a couple of Italian guys, and soon enough, we were lounging in hammocks, smoking weed, and laughing at the absurdity of life. We watched, captivated, as a moth got caught in a spider’s web. We panicked then cheered when it escaped. Then groaned in horror when it flew straight back in. Nature had its own twisted sense of humour.
The next day, I decided to wander back to the beach on my own. When I reached the little hill overlooking the river, I noticed the water was much higher than the day before. I explored the banks for a safe spot to cross, fully aware I might have to take the long way around.
Every instinct screamed at me not to cross the river. But my mind whispered, “You’ll be fine!”
I found a spot where the water looked shallower and stepped in, reaching a sandbar in the middle. Standing there, the fear hit me like a tidal wave. The current was much stronger than I’d realised, and the oceans waves crashed just a few metres to my right. To my left, the river raged on.
Then, out of nowhere, a man with dreadlocks appeared, holding a big sturdy stick. He called out, “Stay where you are!” and assured me he used to be a river guide. Calmly, he walked into the current, grabbed my hand, and pulled me back to the riverbank I’d started from.
Before I could thank him, a massive tree trunk surged past in the floodwaters. It would’ve taken me out had I been in its path.
The man explained that the tree had been holding back the river for weeks and that he’d known it was about to break free. Apparently, that was the day. I thanked him, but he disappeared before I could even ask his name. To this day, I sometimes wonder if he was even real, let’s be honest, stranger things have happened!
No one knew where I was, not the people in the hostel or my family in Australia. Back then, I barely called anyone, and there was no social media or smartphones to track our adventures. We were just young, wild, and free, riding the wave of life (albeit a little recklessly).
Have you ever had a near-death experience? Tell me your story!