Vryburg Day Trip

Vryburg might be mentioned on the weather but it would never win a beauty contest, there is also not that much to do there and it is a four hour drive from Johannesburg, so when I decided to go there for a day trip I was not surprised when most people thought I was mad to go for 1 day and also highly optimistic in asking people to go with me.

I had this instinctive feeling to go to my hometown, to go back to the town where I had the most wonderful years of growing up on the family farm Waterloo, on the outskirts of Vryburg. Vryburg is where I was raised, where I went to school for a number of years and also where I had my Bar Mitzvah.

I suckered Matthew Wolf to come with me to Vryburg, Matthew fell into the trap by being seduced by my words that Vryburg is the biltong capital of South Africa. I was looking forward to catching up with Matthew, we worked together in Habonim. The night before we went I saw Gary “Samo” Samowitz, a dear friend now based in Australia, before I knew it, I was on my way back to his aunts place, getting 4 hours sleep and him joining us for that journey to Vryburg.

Let me say that there is nothing spectacular about that drive to Vryburg. You drive through the university town of Potchefstroom, you drive through the evangelists paradise of Stilfontein and then Klerksdorp, which I am sure has the most amount of tow-trucks per capita in the Republic. The scenery starts to change beyond Klerksdorp, it changes from mines and mine dumps to that of mealies and agriculture. This is best typified by Wolmaranstad, if one ever needs to buy a new tractor this is the town to come to. We then turned on the R504 to Schweizer-Reneke, a town which is infamous for its municipal manager who earned a salary bigger than the President and almost bankrupted the town and chased away all investors. The little I saw of the town was that his legacy is still plaguing the town.

When I was at boarding school I always knew that I was close to home once I passed Schweizer-Reneke, it was on to the R63 and home was only 30 odd minutes away. I am quite sure that Matthew and Samo were probably rueing the decision to drive four hours to see this. I had dug out my khaki shirt for the occasion, but was pleasantly surprised to see that modern fashion trends had hit Vryburg, and that it was not all about khaki shirts anymore, but more about two-tone or dare I even say three-tone khaki shirts. I was pleased to see that velskoene were still the rage, and super tight denim shorts were still going strong.

Our first port of call was the Tehilla Jeug Sentrum (youth centre), this church centre still displays the Magen Dovid and foundation stone of the Simon Lieberthal Guild Hall, the place where I had my Bar Mitzvah, I was the last person to have my Bar Mitzvah there. Today Vryburg has no Jewish residents, the closest Jewish family lives about 90 minutes away, a few decades back, the town had its own Rabbi and regular weekly services. The Simon Lieberthal Guild Hall typifies what happened in most towns on the platteland, most towns once had small, but active Jewish communities, today there is only one active community in the whole North West province-Klerksdorp.

Most Vryburgers will probably never meet a Jew in their life, they will no longer see a boy wearing a Kippah in the bottle store learning for his Bar Mitzvah, go to a Jewish funeral, attend a Bar Mitzvah (when one of my brothers had his Bar Miztvah, the press came to cover it).

It might have been mid morning, but it had already becoming extremely hot, Vryburg is notorious for its inclement hear during February. We next went to the Stellaland Preparatory School. All my teachers have left the school, the only reason for me to go back is that my late brother, Dale is honoured at the school. The only problem being that the plaque which honours him used to bear a cross and now shows the worst Magen Dovid I have ever seen.

Vryburg is not a one horse town but it is also not a horse race town…It is quick to see all what one needs to see, but Vryburg is a town full of stories, these are best told over a braai, round the fireplace or at the bar, but I met school and family friend Russell Garnett at the Wimpy, the place to be seen in Vryburg. I am very sure that Samo and Matthew were amazed at the legends and stories of this town, they also gained major insight on my family and got to understand where I come from and why I might have been how I was. Just as it was amazing for them, I know that the eavesdroppers sitting behind us were just as amazed at the fact that they were hearing English in Vryburg.

We were offered to spend the night at the Garnett’s farm, but we had to sadly decline, It was a far place to come for such a short time and I know that my fellow day trippers would have reveled on the Garnett farm. Russell is one of only two English speakers from the entire English stream at my primary school left in Vryburg and he does not even live in the town.

We ran a few errands with Russell, and I was quick to remember that Russell is not part of this quick-fix fast-paced consumerist environment, he only comes to town once or twice a week, gets his provisions, gets things fixed and comes back for cattle auctions or the next week. Complaining about a dodgy I-pod or slow internet are not the concerns of most farmers here for them it is about cattle feed, windmill pumps and tools.

I reached the meat mecca when I hit Beesland, it might have been out of season, but I know that Matthew and Samo had still never seen so much biltong in their lives… I went overboard and bought so much biltong, Beesland is reason enough to drive four hours to Vryburg to just by their biltong.

I wanted to go to the bowling club to go into the clubhouse as my late father was the club champion for a few years, it was sadly closed, but it did not stop me remembering the sauntering Sunday mornings spent there as a youngster getting up to mischief.

We went to the cemetery, the final resting place of my brother, father, Grand Parents and cousin. To be honest, it would have been different if I was there by myself, it would have been more poignant and personal, but I know that Samo and Matthew got a lot out of seeing this Jewish place and for them to get a better understanding of what once was in Vryburg.

However, the town of Vryburg is not what really moulded or influenced me, it was the family farm of Waterloo. About 10 km’s out of Vryburg, this was where I had grown up as a youngster, and whenever I go back, I know how thankful I am for that fact.

The farm is now owned by our former family doctor, and whilst it was difficult to see the physical changes, the house being fenced off etc, the memories came back and it was as if I was a young babe all over again.

I went back to the old farm dam, and the dam which was where my brothers and I often swam looked like a cess pool now, it reeked and was slimy, but before they knew it I had climbed up the roof and jumped in, and do I regret that fact… I stunk, subsequent swims in the swimming pool could not shake off the stench.

We ran out of time, a day trip to Vryburg does not give it justice, things happen slowly out here, it is not designed for whistle stop tours, I hope to go back there again and next time spend a night or two there. It might never be in the travel guides, but for me, Vryburg will always be a part of me..