By BECKY YAEGER KIMBELL
Enquirer contributor

Becky Yaeger Kimbell and her husband, Dave, above, resigned from jobs at Procter & Gamble and left their Cincinnati home Oct. 11 to retrace the steps of Dave's grandfather, who traveled through the United Kingdom, then Africa, in 1929. While she and her husband are traveling for the next six to eight months, her dispatches will appear periodically in the Enquirer.

Romantic waterfronts, glorious deserted beaches, spectacular historic steam train rides, sleepy farm towns, dusty red farmland set against lush green mountains . . .

Sitting in the fortified courtyard of our Johannesburg guest lodge, surrounded by a 10-foot-high electric fence topped with fierce-looking razor-wire and accompanied by two hulking guard dogs, I marveled at the surprises that South Africa holds.

My preconceived image -- people hiding in self-created prisons (or ''safe zones,'' depending on perspective), in constant fear of becoming crime victims -- had only been realized in South Africa's largest city.

With Johannesburg a glaring exception, my initial paranoia was unwarranted and undeserved. After two months in this vast and varied ''Rainbow Nation,'' I felt no more threatened than in New York or Los Angeles. My belongings were intact, and I could see why an American friend living in Cape Town had said, 'You'll understand why I stay.''

Retracing a route

In 1929, my husband's grandfather, Charles R. Kimbell, and great-uncle Alan Dawson drove a 1928 R.E.O. Spirit sedan from Cape Town to Johannesburg. We retraced their route in a 1998 Toyota Corolla, traveling on many of the same roads, across the same bridges and through the same small country towns. From cosmopolitan Cape Town to the well-traveled Garden Route, we became spoiled with wide selections of accommodations, fine dining and attractions along the way -- most of which weren't around for Charles and Alan nearly 70 years ago. Travel then was tediously slow, routes were often difficult and they had to create their own entertainment. But in terms of tourist services, our luck soon would change, as it did for Charles and Alan.

In a letter to his mother, Charles predicted, ''. . . Here (after Port Elizabeth) we were heading north to cross the Great Karoo . . . We would be in more native country where we would find . . . roads more questionable and touring information less available.''

Today, as in 1929, services remain few and far between on the route inland from Port Elizabeth north to Johannesburg. There are no primary tourist destinations, save for colorful little country towns that (sometimes) dot the map. The heat is oppressive, and the dry desert air leaves one constantly begging for a cold drink.

Hills dot the dusty landscape; bright red-orange soil provides a contrasting backdrop for the plethora of green prickly pear cacti and gray scrub bushes. This is where tourists renting non-air-conditioned class A cars will regret their decision to save a few dollars.

Few maps to follow

In 1929, the intrepid duo had few maps, so it was imperative that they not get misdirected. Charles related:

''We had not wanted to do any night driving and this applied specially on the Karoo, in view of the fact that here on the desert it would be so easy to wander off the tracks. When darkness began to fall and still no Cookhouse, we began to wonder. Our wonderment gave way to concern as we would drain our reserve supply of gas. The situation was not eased by the scores of natives we passed with painted faces and bodies and carrying spears . . .''

Charles continued, ''It was about 9 o'clock in the evening when we suddenly saw a flash of light but we could not overtake it . . . All of the sudden we realized it was a train and we were running alongside of the South African Railroad lines. This was most reassuring, in spite of the fact . . . we were not supposed to be any place near a railroad.''

This is how Charles and Alan discovered charming Somerset East around 10 p.m. that evening, arriving with only two gallons of gas to spare. They never made it to Cookhouse, wherever that was.

Somerset East's hometown celebrity was but a young man in 1929 -- and as an artist, too young for fame. Contemporary South African artist Walter Battiss was born in Somerset East, moving away in 1917 with his family when he was 10. His close friendship with Pablo Picasso is evident in his work, which hangs in a gallery housed in a historic building that used to be his family's hotel.

Farther along the purple jacaranda-lined avenue is the Somerset East Museum, housed in a Georgian manor set among an immaculate rose and herb garden, at the base of the Bosberg Mountains. The friendly administrator of this interesting collection went so out of the way to welcome us that we realized she probably doesn't see many out-of-towners; indeed, the guest book revealed but three that week.

''When the Union of South Africa was effected in 1910, the cost of Union was the division of capitals. Cape Town was made the legislative capital, Pretoria (the) administrative and Bloemfontein (the) judicial.

Bloemfontein is great. The Free State is the wealthiest farming center in the Union and Bloemfontein, as the trading center, reflects this,'' Charles wrote in 1929.

Signs of progress

Bloemfontein still serves as South Africa's judicial headquarters, and still boasts the law court buildings that so impressed Charles.

The discovery and mining of gold north of Bloemfontein helped the town emerge from its strictly agricultural roots to the big city that it is today. Progress, however, has not been kind to the once-picturesque downtown. Streets are somewhat dirty and many historic buildings, including Charles and Alan's Hotel Cecil, have been destroyed or altered beyond recognition.

However, as downtown appeal has waned, new attractions and positive suburban growth have salvaged this historic Free State enclave. Historians delight in the extensive Boer War Museum, sure to come to life during the war's 100th anniversary this year.

Also of interest are the Oliewenhaus Art Gallery, housed in a massive Cape Dutch mansion, Prince's Rose Garden (reputedly one of the world's largest, though it seems to have downsized), and the view over the city from Naval Hill.

Little lies along the path from Bloemfontein to Johannesburg.

Charles' description of this fairly lifeless area still applies,

''Don't be misled by what appears to be towns on the map -- three fourths of them are bunk.''

Even today we couldn't find an open restaurant on a Sunday afternoon, and had to settle for chips and a soda. Herein lies the great appeal of even the dullest South African town -- getting to see life the way it really is lived.

Which brings us back to the razor wire and electric fences of once-great Johannesburg, where even the residents seem to have an overriding sense of gloom.

''Oh, you live in Johannesburg?'' we asked fellow travelers in Knysna.

''No, we survive in Johannesburg!'' was the reply.

Dangerous reputation

It is too bad that one of Africa's largest and most powerful cities has earned its deserved crime-filled reputation. The business people walking amid streets lined in mature trees and blooming flowers, made it difficult to imagine there had been a fatal shoot-out during business hours the day before we visited. It occurred just outside the Carlton Hotel, where Charles and Alan had stayed. The Carlton closed less than a year ago.

Charles noted,

''Johannesburg's growth is quite like Chicago's. Fifty years ago it was simply bush country and not very fertile at that. Then gold was discovered and . . . it's gold that keeps the city going.''

Though gold is a significant resource for the area, many would argue it is the suburban shopping districts that keep the city going, at least for tourists and those who can afford to live in these affluent areas.

These areas are virtually the only places in the country where I could replace my worn hiking boots with a quality substitute.

Just as a township tour reveals the poverty of the masses, a stroll through glamorous Sandton City Mall reminds visitors of the contrasting cosmopolitan lifestyle led by a significantly wealthy few.

Staying at Sandton City in a decent hotel, within walking distance of great shopping and excellent restaurants, will help you feel less like a prisoner in your room. And the Johannesburg Zoo offers the opportunity to stroll freely outdoors.

''All in all, it was a most interesting trip. It sure showed us the country and native life, we also saw the beauty of the Karoo, the gorgeous mountains, the quaint little centers like . . . Oudtshoorn . . . ,'' wrote Charles at the conclusion of his road trip with Alan.

Certainly, this description applies to the route today. Nevertheless, some things have changed.

Charles noted,

''We passed thousands of kraals (native huts). . .''

Today, the only kraals visitors see along this route are in museums. Many descendants of the kraal-dwellers live poverty-stricken in squatter camps, and others, including President Nelson Mandela, reside in affluent Johannesburg suburbs, such as Sandton.

Charles continued:

''. . . (We) saw thousands of natives without a stitch of clothing . . .''

Today, among all races and cultures of the Rainbow Nation, dress standards are ubiquitously Western. Shopping malls selling Nikes and Levi's at twice the American price surround Johannesburg and other main cities; demand for all things Western is high.

''. . .And in spite of having to pay 50 to 75 cents a gallon for gas ($1.50 in 1998), the trip cost us less than had we made it by rail.''

Today, I would only add, ''and made it a whole lot more interesting.''

JOURNEY