I’ve spent a couple 8 & 12 hour days traveling by bus and I’ve arrived in a small surfing beach village of Chintsa. Or is it Cintsa? I guess that depends on which road sign you read or which local you speak with. Both spellings seem to be equally used. I discover the english pronunciation is (sin-sah) but the real pronunciation includes a clicking sound where the H is that I can’t even begin to produce or describe in text.
On the drive from Drakensburg to the Indian Ocean coast, starting in Durban, the mountainous scenery remains quite similar with cliff ledge mountains covered in a fine green grass. As I’ve worked my way south down the coast the mountains gradually turn into rolling hills and the grass begins to be filled by thriving trees and forest. Cinsta is a small village separated by a river. As we drive down a bumpy pot hole filled gravel road the scenery opens to a bay with rolling tree filled hills forming a cove. I’m in Cinsta west and the hostel view is spectacular. The wind is howling an easy 40+ knots. I can see surfers enjoying the sloppy looking swell and kite boarders having a blast in the high winds. While sitting on my room balcony I see a whale in the distance spouting water.
In my first week in South Africa, I’m starting to form the opinion that virtually every South African is exceptionally friendly but clueless at the same time. From my SIM card fiasco, clueless taxi drivers, to a walk down the street and take the first right, (nope 3rd right), or hey it’s obvious walk down the beach and you’ll see everyone on top of the second sand dune. (huh, not visible at all and it takes hiking 3 dunes to find them on the 5th dune), plus many more goofy scenarios.
The wind has been treacherous almost spoiling a superb location. The weather here has surprised me as it’s been all over the map and changes suddenly. It’s summer in South Africa and I expected it to be hot. It has been one moment and 30 minutes later it’ll be 30 degrees cooler followed by an drastic increase an hour later. Shorts one minute and a sweat shirt and jacket the next.
This morning the weather cooperates and I head out for a beach horseback ride. It’s calm sunny and hot. I’m riding Zooruk. The horse farm here is managed by a local that rescues them from around the country. As we approach the beach I feel the heat of the sun beat down on my face as a cool breeze comes off the surf cooling me. The sound of the waves breaking as they crash on the beach is mesmerizing. Zooruk starts out in a slow walk, accelerates to a bouncy trot, then gallop, and into a full canter. I’ve done guided horse rides before and usually it’s horses playing follow the leader with their nose in the horses rear in front. These boys are not into that and I’m loving it that they are each their own, well trained and are responsive. 
