The R65 road between Indwe and Dortrecht is pitted with giant potholes. Daily Dispatch politics reporter, Sabelo Skiti, shows that it's no exaggeration. Picture: MLONDOLOZI MBOLO

This is the third morning of our trip and thus far we’ve travelled in the region of 500 kilometres, through nine towns, and some of the dodgiest roads in the province. I kid you not  the amount and size of potholes we drove through – particularly on the R397 en route to our first stop in Molteno on Sunday night, and then the R56 road that connects the province’s coldest town to Elliot.

As if it wasn’t enough to have bruised and battered bodies from these craters – some of whose length was longer than my close to 2 metre frame – we had a very real brush with the old South Africa mentality that still prevails in some of these farm towns.

After driving and stopping off to meet people in Cathcart and Whittlesea we found ourselves leaving Queenstown for Molteno around dusk and we only made it to the town just before 8pm – apparently very late by Molteno standards because the town was already a ghost town.

Finding the bed and breakfast we were booked in,  Era B&B, proved easy enough. We (photographer Mlo and I) were looking forward to jumping into bed and sleeping. We weren’t prepared for what happened next though.

After ten minutes knocking at the front door of the establishment, I eventually called the number on the voucher given to us by the travel agency that booked us. The reply on the other side was not very enthusiastic and if we thought that was it, boy were we wrong.

After I told him we were the Daily Dispatch booking, the gent on the other side (who did not give his name) didn’t bat an eyelid and said: “Oh you people. Why didn’t you confirm your booking? I don’t have any rooms for you.”

Era B&B. Picture: MLONDOLOZI MBOLO

Now that’s not the reception one hopes for on an extremely cold Sunday night in a place like Molteno. The manager then told me that because our booking wasn’t confirmed and paid for by Wings (the travel agency), he had given our rooms to old customers who had called earlier in the day.

No matter how hard I insisted that the agency would not send vouchers without confirming – and paying for the booking, the gentleman refused to listen, saying in a thick Afrikaans accent that he is the manager and would “know”.

Even a request for him to call the owner yielded no result as he simply called her and spoke in Afrikaans about how these people worked at the Biltong factory and we could share a room with two single beds “if we wanted”. She didn’t seem mind the proposed arrangement, so we promptly took our money elsewhere.

For me this incident definitely had racial undertones, especially since during our phone conversation he refused to even come speak to me at the door. It was only after he heard me call the company that he did come to the gate and then “offer” to replace our two rooms with one.

I’m not sure if it was indeed racial, but one thing I know is it has left a sour taste in my mouth and together with the potholes, it will make me think twice about making any trip to that area. This is despite the fact that I think that this area has one of the best stretches of scenery, on the road going past the Waterdown Dam en route to Queenstown. – Sabelo Skiti