South African Hospitality in Action: Dust, & Delight in the Northern Cape

We’re setting off on a 150-day trip through South Africa—because apparently, we don’t know how to do anything halfway. And where did we decide to start? Not in a bustling city or lush vineyard, no—we headed straight for the dust. In The Northern Cape, where the population is low, the temperatures are high, and the greetings come with a kiss (on the lips, mind you). It’s dry, desolate, and dotted with small towns that seem to appear just as you’re wondering if you made a wrong turn—but the people? Warm, welcoming, and ready to chat like you’ve known each other for years. It’s the perfect place to ease into a long journey—one dusty road and lots of laughs at a time.

Also follow along for our experiences and hidden gems in Namaqualand.

Disclaimer: This blog is often written late at night, so enjoy it for what it is, and live and laugh with us.

Augrabies Falls: Roaring Waters and Warm Welcomes

Cultural Experiences in South Africa

I’m not sure there’s a more hospitable nation than the South Africans. Wherever you go, people greet you with a friendly, “Hallo, how are you?”

Now, Texans are huggers. When you see someone you vaguely know, you go in for a hug. Here in South Africa? You get greeted with a kiss!

Don’t think European kiss—you know, cheek-to-cheek air smooches, one on each side. Nope. They do one better here: a full-on kiss on the lips.

Thankfully, it’s quick—none of those slow-motion, romantic movie kisses. But it definitely makes for an interesting greeting. We go in for the hug, they come in for the kiss, and somewhere in between, two people meet—and just know they’re happy to see or meet each other.

Meeting locals in South Africa

One of our favorite things about traveling the world, and now South Africa is that you don’t have to go looking for the locals. They find you. Whether you’re standing in line for biltong, staring blankly at a map, or just trying to pick the best padkos snack, someone will strike up a conversation. And not just a polite nod either—we’re talking full life stories, weather reports, and an invitation to their cousin’s farm for a proper braai. It’s the kind of friendliness that sneaks up on you, makes you laugh, and before you know it, you’ve exchanged numbers and promised to stop by “next time you’re in the area.” Which, knowing us, might actually happen.

While visiting Augrabies National Park, we met a lovely couple, Dina and Jan Eksteen, sitting at the table next to us.

As you all know, Johan is the kind of introvert who’s never met a stranger, so soon the conversation was flowing. They gave us tips on places to visit, showed us amazing videos from when the Orange River was in flood in 2020, and by the end of the evening, we had an invitation to visit their farm in the Vrystaat (Free State).

We were promised good lamb and sunsets so perfect that Jan believe that God did some of his best work in the Vrystaat.

We exchanged contact details, and even if we don’t make it there on this trip, we hope they’ll visit us in Texas. Remember: South African hospitality still flows strongly in our veins.

Grocery

During a grocery run, the men struck up a conversation with a long-lost pal—who they had never met before.

Fanus (he introduced himself) was a local farmer who noticed the men trailing behind us with the cart. He made a friendly comment about how he shops with his wife too, but always ensures she’s either far ahead or far behind him.

And that was all Ben and Johan needed. They immediately clicked with Fanus, exchanged life stories, and by the end of it, walked away with an invitation to visit a local date farm where his son works. He even offered to meet us there and give us the insider tour.

Meanwhile, Veronica and I stayed on mission: groceries first. What great travel pairs we make, the men talking nonsense to their next best friend, and the woman keeping us on target, or at least fed.

Trust and Toilet Truths

Now, let’s talk about trust.

It’s such a big part of any society’s fabric—and while trust is easily broken, it still exists here in the everyday.

Take my first experience at a roadside gas station. I really needed to use the restroom (as one does when you’ve been holding it in for miles). When the building came into view, my urgency shot from “I’ll be fine” to “run, woman, run.”

I made a fast walk to the door, only to be stopped by the gatekeeper and sanitary inspector. I needed to pay 3 rands, to use the restroom. She is in charge of keeping the restroom clean, and needed to make her money in an informal way.

I didn’t have 3 rands on me, so I promised I’d bring it later. She didn’t trust me—initially. But the desperation in my eyes must have done the trick.

Then came the toilet paper. For 3 rands, I got eight sheets. Not three-ply. Not double-ply. Not soft-and-fluffy. Just… single-ply. But eight sheets nonetheless. At that point, I would’ve settled for only four.

Afterwards, I brought her the money—and she was truly grateful. It made me wonder how many people say, “I’ll be back,” and never are. This made for a special and memorable experience. The bathroom was old and dilapidated, but her dilligence to cleanliness saved the day for me.

The 26-Pocket Jacket and the Shabeen Comment

All the cashiers we’ve met so far have been friendly, but none quite as delightful as the lady at the Augrabies National Park shop.

(I’ll write another post about the 26-pocket wonder jacket Johan and Ben bought in advance of the trip — but for now, I’ll just say: when your jacket has 26 pockets, you have space for everything.)

We bought two bottles of wine, and Ben—ever practical—said he’d skip the bag and just stick them in his pockets.

The cashier nearly fell out of her seat laughing.
She said, “Now you look like someone who just bought wine at a shabeen (informal pub), and by the way you’re clutching those pockets, it’s clear you don’t want to share!”

We all left the store better for that interaction. It was a moment shared with love, laughter—and a healthy appreciation for multi-pocket fashion.

Now, for those of you scratching your heads—let’s talk about what a shabeen is. A shabeen is basically a no-frills, often unlicensed neighborhood bar where you can buy a dop (that’s a drink) and have a good chat—sometimes with strangers, sometimes with people who feel like strangers even though you’ve been sitting next to them for an hour. It’s the kind of place where the music is loud, the stories are louder, and the decor may or may not include a plastic chair from 1993. You don’t go to a shabeen for a wine list—you go for the vibe, the people, and possibly the best potjie you’ve ever tasted if you hit it on the right day. And let’s be honest—people rarely share the spoils they’ve smuggled out of the shabeen in their jacket pockets.

Die Mas van Kakemas

Brandy, Fire, and Feelings We Didn’t Know We Had

We made a very important discovery in Kakamas: nothing warms you up on a cold wintery day quite like a glass (or two) of 5-year-old brandy “The Kalahari Truffle” from Die Mas van Kakamas. The place itself feels like it was designed for winter—crackling fire, that rich, caramel smell in the air, and locals who know their brandy as well as they know their rugby scores. One sip and suddenly you’re a philosopher, ready to discuss life’s deepest mysteries… like why we don’t do this every day. By the second sip, you’re convinced you can touch your toes again. By the third, you’re warm enough to consider dancing, but thankfully Ben drank most of it before I embarrassed us. The brandy was so good that Ben enquired about the price, R300 per bottle, a steal at $22. His story is that the first bottle was R400 and the second, R200. So he had to buy two bottles at R600 total. Somehow I do not trust this explanation.

Needless to say, Johan smelled the brandy, took an exploratory sip, and declared himself not capable of driving. Yep, that is in true form.

Trust, Dust, and a Whole Lot of Heart

So there you have it—our first few days in the Northern Cape, where the air is dry, the people are warm, and the greetings might catch you off guard (especially if you’re not expecting a kiss on the lips). We came here for the wide-open landscapes and quiet roads, but it’s the conversations at petrol stations, the laughter in padstals, and the spontaneous invitations from strangers-turned-friends that are stealing our hearts. If this is how the trip starts, we can’t wait to see what the next 145 days bring. Spoiler alert: probably more dops, more dust, and definitely more delight.