The first thing I notice when I arrive at Graskop in Mpumalanga is the serenity that embraces this small town. Contentment is lodged in the atmosphere.
Even first-time visitors realise that there is something about this town. The weather, the people and the vibe add to the mystery. Here is a story begging to be told.
The first stop is Louis Trichardt Street. This is the main route that connects Graskop to towns such as Pilgrim’s Rest, Bushbuckridge, Sabie, Burgersfort and Hazyview. It is the backbone of the local business fraternity and a sacred path for sightseers. With an abundance of restaurants (Chinese, Italian, African), Internet cafés and curio shops, you can’t lose.
The lowdown
The Mpumalanga Tourism Authority is situated at N4 Halls Gateway, Mpumalanga Parks Board Complex, Block F, Mataffin, Nelspruit. Tel: (013) 752 7001. E-mail: [email protected] or visit: www. mpumalanga.com/home/home.asp
“Come on madam, it’s very nice. My nuts are very nice, only R20. I can give you a taste,” pleads a young chap who tries to convince an elderly couple to buy a pack of raw almonds.
The woman is probably in her 70s and mystified by this young man’s boiling energy and carelessness. Her husband, who resembles a retired Greek porn-star, however, is showing no enthusiasm towards putting some cash into the vendor’s pocket. He flashes a smile, grabs his woman by the hand and they both disappear into the crowd.
The vendor looks disappointed, but soon sets his sights on another potential customer.
From a distance his business looks a shambles, but it must be lucrative because he can’t stop hopping from one pavement to the next as soon as a bus or a car pulls over. Six more nut sellers appear from the tourist-infested Louis Trichardt Street.
I manage to gather them for a few minutes. They are a vibrant bunch. “O munye no munye u yaziphandela [everybody is hustling],” a middle-aged woman named Ntombi, who is also in the trade, retorts.
Any resident will tell you about these guys; somehow they give this town a different vibe. These guys are making a killing using a simple strategy: spot and sell.
According to Warren Southey, owner of Silverspoon restaurant, which is also in Louis Trichardt Street, Graskop is a magnet for tourists. He estimates that more than 400 tourists pass through the town every day.
I’m impressed. We move from the pavement into his plush restaurant. Our conversation is in progression when something called the Paradise Rally ascends enters our conversation, creating a weird but positive vibe. But what is the Paradise Rally?
I picture a group of bible-bashers dressed in white praying for rain. As usual I’m way off the mark. Actually, the Paradise Rally is an annual motorbike event usually held in May. About 5 000 motorbike fanatics from around South Africa hold Graskop hostage for a weekend. Louis Trichardt Street becomes the scene for some of the most ridiculously dangerous motorbike stunts that entertain the locals.
“This thing [the rally] is big … I can’t explain, you are going to have to be there to experience the true meaning of it,” says Southey.
I catch up with the local traffic department to find out how it keeps Graskop in order during this weekend of chaos.
Apparently Louis Trichardt Street becomes exclusive motorcyclist territory. “The Paradise Rally has become somewhat of a culture in this town. It is chaotic but entertaining,” says Vusi Mdluli, Graskop’s senior traffic officer.
“Aren’t these Paradise guys disturbing the peace?” I ask. Says Mdluli: “As long as the motorcyclists adhere to our rules, we have no reason to complain.”
Although there are other notable activities in Graskop — such as the Forest to Falls mountain-bike race that takes place in March and draws about 700 entries, and the Sasol Rally, an off-road challenge held in July —the Paradise Rally still wears the crown for being the highlight of the year in most residents’ hearts.
But what about crime? This leads me to the Graskop police station where I corner the communications officer, Inspector SP Mashiloane.
Mashiloane is fairly easy-going: “We receive no complaints from tourists because we have managed to deploy about 14 tourism monitors on the streets. Their job is to ensure safety for all tourists.”
It turns out assault (domestic violence, beer brawls, cat-fights) and public drinking are the most common transgressions. The crime rate around here is next to zero and the cops are having a blast.
But what kind of mischief do young people of this town get up to?
“Graskop is small but we are proud of it. What we like about this town is that we are responsible for our own fun and shit,” says a young lad named Garrith, who is about 18.
The biggest activity for rebellious Graskop youth is skateboarding. MTV is just as popular here as it might be in a Jozi suburb, although these kids haven’t yet gone the hard-drug route; they seem content with the herb.
Garrith and his crew are a weird bunch. Their dress code of sagging jeans, dirty Converse All Star takkies, dirty jackets and two conga drums characterise rebellion. Garrith introduces me to his friends who reveal their dreams of becoming world class skateboarding champs. We find a spot where they pour out their aspirations, as if I have the power to make their dreams come true.
This is very humbling, so I listen and pretend to share their vision.
If you have lived in cities such as Cape Town or Jozi you might find Graskop too laid-back. But if you are the most wanted rabble-rouser on the police notice board, you might consider this small town as your hideout — but bring along some weed and enjoy your incognito status until your neighbour finally recognises you from that identikit on Crime Stop and decides to report your troublesome ass.