Thursday 19 November – McGregor
It seems a long time since we landed in Cape Town last Monday evening. I usually start the Travel Journal back in Norwich before we leave home, but I was overtaken by the events in Paris of the previous three days. No matter how much forward planning I intend to do before a trip, I never seem to get round to it.
It’s quite difficult now to cast my mind back to the journey, but I remember thinking about safety and security as the plane took off from Norwich airport. When we have made long haul flights from one hemisphere to another I recalled how my thoughts were about weather conditions. We can usually expect turbulence as we pass over the Tropics, as we did this time. However I found myself considering other aspects of safety and security. We travelled with KLM and I felt reassured that The Netherlands hasn’t played a proactive role in the invasion of middle-eastern countries. I think that the role of their armed forces has been predominantly peace-keeping rather than killing. To my knowledge The Netherlands also seems to have a liberal approach to religious tolerance. South Africa, our country of destination, hasn’t figured on the world stage as a target for extremist terrorist activity.
I remember how during the flight I thought about world wide conflict. The people of my generation, living in the U.K., have not felt endangered or at risk on our home territory. London as a City, and the people living there, experienced death and injury during the Irish `Troubles’, but this didn’t filter down to Norwich. Now, suddenly, towards the end of our lives, a new form of warfare has appeared, hidden and secret. The enemy is difficult to identify, the dangers are unapparent so how can we be protected or protect ourselves. So many other factors are present now in comparison to those of which I was told by my parents and grandparents when talking about the two World Wars of the last century. Foremost amongst these factors has to be communications and the media. We are familiar with the bias of media coverage and the way in which it can affect public opinion. We were aware of this when we were in Greece during the recent Balkan War. According to Greek opinion our country, i.e. the U.K., backed the perpetrators against the Serbians, who shared a common Orthodox Christian religion. This in some cases affected their attitude to us, as members and therefore representatives of that country. Then there is the ever increasing power of social media, the ability to attract and unite members on a global scale. Recent events have shown how this can have both advantageous and detrimental effects and outcomes. I add these worries to the anxieties which I already have about climate change and it’s effects on the future of our children and grandchildren.
It’s good to be back in McGregor, it’s our third visit here. The trip here was very good, the best long haul flight I have made. The early departure from Norwich and short stopover in Schipol meant we travelled in real time and the two hour time difference was not apparent. We arrived late in Cape Town but a shuttle transfer to the Hotel Verde in the airport complex meant that we were in bed by 00.30 and had a good night’s sleep. We picked up the hire car next morning and were in McGregor by lunchtime. We have had a very nice couple of days with Margo, revisiting some of the places and things we did last time we were here and also doing some new ones. McGregor seems to have increased in size and facilities, but still has the same comfortable, easy going feeling about it which we enjoyed last time. We have both commented that this part of South Africa seems very clean and tidy and functional compared to our last visit, but have realised that it is probably in comparison to Zimbabwe, where we have been the last two years. We are sure, however, that for us it is much cheaper. Four years ago we were getting 17 or 18 Rand to the £, we are now getting 20. The differences in price seem much greater than that increase in the exchange rate in contrast to comparable items in the U.K. We have bought a few items to supplement the camping equipment we have bought with us, a couple of chairs, buckets, a BBQ grid and even taking into allowance the increase in the exchange rate, they seem cheaper than we would expect to pay in the U.K. As usual John will be keeping a catalogue of our various expenditures so it will be interesting to see at the end of the trip.
Saturday 21 November – Karoo National Park
It is so cold! It was 8C when we woke up this morning and hasn’t gone much above 13C all day.
It was overcast when we left McGregor on Friday morning, and quite cool. Margo looked up the weather forecast and it was not good for the next couple of days. Her forecast also gave rain for this area, which we haven’t had, just a few isolated spots. We stopped on the way at a place called Matjiesfontein, which both she and our Guide Book recommended. A Victorian railroad town, perfectly preserved and now a tourist attraction. As soon as we drew into it we realised that we had been there before, on our previous trip, so I think it must be written up in the Journal for that trip. One new thing to note is an example of the difference in cost of living prices here. We went into the Coffee Shop, now part of a building which must once have been accommodation for people using the railroad. It was full of memorabilia, everything well preserved. We ordered two coffees and two slices of cheese and onion quiche, advertised on their board. When it arrived it was two cups of freshly ground coffee, strong and delicate, two large plates, each with an individual quiche and a side salad. The quiches had light puff pastry cases, filled with a delicious stringy cheese, thin slices of onion and some tiny mushrooms. The side salad was finely sliced fresh vegetables with a herby balsamic dressing. In Norwich we would expect to pay in excess of £10 per person, in a high tourist area it would be more. The bill for the two was £7.50. I have deliberately converted the price from Rand to Sterling, so that the exchange rate is not a consideration. If we were only getting 17 Rand to the £, as we were four years ago it would still have added just £2 to the price which would still be amazingly cheap by current U.K. standards. We do not remember prices being so cheap on our previous visit. We heard that the falling value of the Rand hasn’t really started to have an effect yet. Therefore I can only think that the difference is due to price rises in the U.K., which have been insidious over the past four years and we haven’t really noticed. Maybe it is a bit of a eye-opener to what is happening in the U.K. under our current government and a stark realisation of the levels of poverty which exist. Margo told us that many of the elderly retired people in McGregor, surviving on South African pensions, are suffering much hardship, leading a very simple existence devoid of most luxuries. I don’t know what the pensions are here, but they must be very low indeed.
So we are now in the Karoo N.P., a beautifully appointed SAN Parks camping site, luxurious by most European standards. It has cleaner than clean ablution blocks, with actual bathrooms with actual baths, a kitchen with a boiling water machine, cooking hobs, fridges and deep freezers. We have a large pitch complete with electricity, our own braai, BBQ, and shared water tap and bin with the pitch next door. We are paying £10 a night. The Park itself has been set up to preserve a part of The Karoo, the arid near-desert which forms quite a lot of the interior of southern South Africa. The landscape is relentless and soul-destroying, scrub with an annual rainfall of less than 20 cms a year. Most of that rain should fall in the winter months and this year there has been almost none, climate change is on everyone’s lips. Driving round today, it seemed to us to resemble the scrub deserts we have seen in many other countries. The most prolific animal we saw was the Ostrich, which somehow seems to be able to survive even in true desert. There were a few Zebra, a few Baboons and some Antelope. There didn’t even seem to be many birds.
Last time we were in South Africa we hugged the coasts, where most people live, but the idea of this trip was to learn more about the entire country and our visit to the Karoo has certainly done that. It brings home to us how great a proportion of the United Kingdom is actually inhabitable. South Africa is a vast country but it is difficult to see how anyone could live here. Having said that, the San people lived here for many, many years. Tomorrow we will move further north, close to Kimberley. Kimberley, Diamonds! Another fact finding visit.
Tuesday 24 November – Mokala National Park
Archie’s birthday today. We went for a drive this morning to explore the southern part of the Park. I kept the phone on hoping that I might pick up a stray phone signal and we could send him a birthday message. It was a dim hope and didn’t happen
We left the Karoo N.P. on Sunday morning after another very cold night, 8C again when we woke up in the morning and I slept in some of my thermal layers which were meant for Lesotho. I spoke to a South African woman who said it was very unseasonable weather and she had packed a hot water bottle. It was a good camping experience in the Karoo, very friendly and communal. The people on the next pitch leant us a spare electricity cable when we realised that we needed to use our only S.A. adaptor to connect to the box, (not the blue safety connector we use in the U.K.) and we have bought 2 appliances here with S.A. plugs. We have bought a kettle, very nice, cordless, cost £6, and a new electric insect repellent., our old one is ancient and has an Egyptian plug so it wiggles about in the socket. We would usually only use it in malarial mosquito areas, but since John has been taking anti-coagulants he gets horrible bruise type lumps if any insect bites him. We popped into the nearby Pick ‘n Pay and got a supply of plugs and sockets and John has changed them over so we are all sorted now. We also got sort-of adopted by a couple of about our own age who live in Jeffrey’s Bay. He is of Welsh descent and he made us laugh with his take-off of his Welsh cousin. They did a very similar thing to us a few years back, flew into London with their tent, hired a car, shopped at Go Outdoors and joined the Camping and Caravanning Club. They toured the whole of the U.K, including Wales and Scotland, and even Norwich. They went along the Norfolk coast through Sheringham, Cromer and Yarmouth as he is a volunteer radio operator with the Jeffrey’s Bay Lifeboat Rescue Service and is interested in all things lifeboat. They were amazingly kind and friendly and have given us their telephone number and a definite invitation to stay with them in Jeffrey’s Bay.
After leaving the Karoo N.P. on Sunday we drove for five hours through the most arid, endless, empty landscape I have ever seen. It stretched for as far as you could see in all directions. I had no idea of the vast extent of The Karoo. Occasionally the desert scrub was broken by a bare rocky outcrop, but for the most part it was flat and relentless. When we drew off into a layby for a walk and a snack, in the ten minutes we were there only one vehicle going in either direction passed by, and that was a freight lorry. We had intended to do some shopping on the way, but had forgotten that shops close on Sundays in South Africa. Luckily we had sufficient supplies for one night. We booked in for two nights, but as soon as we saw the set-up we decided to stay for three. There are only six campsite pitches and these are enormous, although as they are scattered with Thorn trees and prickly scrub we had to look around for a decent level area big enough to accommodate our tent. The pitches are arranged in a crescent formation around a water-hole and each one has it’s own toilet, shower room and kitchen. The water and LED lights use solar power and the cooking rings and fridge are gas powered. The first night there was one other couple and last night two couples, but both so far away from us we didn’t speak to them. The waterhole is served by a solar pump which allows a trickle of water into a channel which then drains into a very muddy pool. A low, one metre, electric fence separates the camping area from the water-hole and the rest of the Park, and we drive over an electrified cattle grid to enter. In theory this should keep the animals out but the site is littered with antelope type droppings and the kitchen area is equipped with a lockable cupboard to store any food or valuable items to protect them from the baboons and monkeys. We are quite safe though as there are no predatory carnivores in the Park.
The Park has quite a history which I might write about another time, but an important fact is that it has only been in existence since 2007 and is an experiment in protecting endangered species, and animal health development. The only large animals which could possible be dangerous are the buffalo and the rhinos and they don’t venture near the campsite. The tick which causes the spread of foot and mouth and other bovine diseases which has decimated many buffalo herds has been eradicated here. With careful inter-breeding it is hoped to produce a strain with immunity to these fatal and reaching diseases. The rhinos are protected and as their numbers increase could be used to re-stock other Parks where poaching for the horns has been a very big problem. We saw buffalo and a magnificent White Rhino as we toured the Park today. We may also have spotted a Tsessebe Antelope, a vey endangered specie and quite rare, but we aren’t skilled enough to be sure of a definite identification. Several other species of Antelope are also under threat of extinction and these have been introduced to the Park and are carefully monitored. An exciting initiative is to re-create an extinct specie of Zebra. The Quagga were hunted to extinction in the late 1880’s, the last one died in Amsterdam Zoo in 1883. It looked like the Plains Zebra but had no stripes on the hind quarters and was a chestnut colour. DNA has been taken from the 23 remaining Quagga skins in various world wide museums and introduced into select Plains Zebra. The project has been going for over twenty years and there are now more than 25 third generation off spring with an ever increasing similarity to the original Quagga.
Although we have made a couple of drives in the Park, the best bit is sitting here in the shade, it’s 31C, watching out over the waterhole. Even now in the torturing sun of the mid afternoon some animals dip in and out. A great big Warthog has been wallowing in and out of the mud for the past thirty minutes. Gemsbok, Impala, Kudu and Springbok come out their cover and take a quick drink. I miss my beloved elephants but we have never been so close to so many other antelope. Many, malopeny birds also use the water-hole. A Garbar Goshawk flew in this morning and I am currently keeping an eye on a large bluish bird with a long curved beak which we think could be an Hadeda Ibis. The Warthog has just waddled off into the shelter of the tree, his back glistening with the mud and a couple of Vervet Monkeys have appeared.
We needed to do some shopping yesterday so we made our way into Kimberley, 20 km back down a dirt track to reach the main road and then another 50 or so into Kimberley. We did the `must-dos’ for Kimberley, The Big Hole and the Old Town. The Big Hole was impressive, mostly because of the fact that it was dug by hand, by men (black) with spades and shovels. The Old Town was quite good too. It looked a bit like a film set with all the old buildings lining it’s streets. They are all original, though. They have been moved and clustered together to form an old mining town as it might have been. All the artifacts inside the buildings were also original. There were bars, a pawnbroker, shops selling every day items and I think it is possible to stay the night in one of the two old hotels.
So we have one more night here, the bite is going out of the sun now so I might venture out of my shady refuge under the Thorn Tree. Last night as we were sitting outside the tent in the dusky gloom drinking a glass of wine, a porcupine struggled up the bank out of the undergrowth and passed within a metre of us. We have never seen a live porcupine before. I was surprised to see that all his/her spines were upright and standing on edge, I thought this only happened when they are attacked. S/he snuffled all round the back of our tent, we hoped s/he was sucking up some of the millions and millions of ants that are everywhere, and disappeared into the night.
Up early tomorrow, 05.30ish, and off to Lesotho, quite a long drive, back through Kimberley and Bloemfontein. We anticipate a dramatic change in climate and environment, towering mountains, no animals and maybe rain. It’s all about the scenery and I am looking forward to it. Mokala has been the Africa I love, red soil, torrid heat, abundance of birds and insects and stars, stars, stars.
Friday 27 November – Roma Trading Lodge, Lesotho
This is so beautiful. I am sitting outside the tent at 16.23, in a shady spot under a big tree tapping in a few thoughts about the last couple of days.
The entry into Lesotho at Maseru Bridge Gate was easy, both getting out of South Africa and into Lesotho. We remember that four years ago getting out of South Africa in order to enter Swaziland was really tedious, having to list all our electrical appliances with minute details.
Maseru is at the border so once in Lesotho we were immediately plunged into the chaos of Maseru traffic. We relied on the directions of the SatNav rather than those which I had downloaded from the campsites web site. It was definitely one of those SatNav moments, as we went deeper and deeper into a very ‘African’ street market and finally going the wrong way down a one-way street. Having extricated ourselves from that situation we tried again and this time found ourselves on an air-base. I suppose being white and driving quite a nice car, no-one questioned us as we went through the security gate, we were just waved on. When we realised our mistake and went back to the same security gate the guard said he would like to search our car and asked us to open the boot. We explained that we were tourists, camping and had just taken the wrong turning. He was suitably bemused when he saw the contents of the boot. We asked for directions to the Lesotho-Durham Link, rather than to The Backpackers, and he was able to tell us that we had turned in one road too soon. The Campsite directions had told us to watch one for a sign to the Lesotho-Durham Link, which we realised is a Church organisation, and Durham bit is in South Africa rather than Northumberland. Apart from the obvious piety of the people working in the office, they were so nice and smiley, it wasn’t obviously religious. The Campsite was OK., it could have been much nicer though with a little care and attention. The pitches were on large terraces overlooking a dam. We were the only people there and put the tent up under the only tree, not too far from the ablutions, an electricity box and a water tap.
Several blocks of rooms, The Backpackers, were round a paved and terraced area. We were told that we could use the kitchen, so we took a look thinking we would put some things in the fridge. It was really grubby, just some electric hotplates, a big fridge and lots of other cupboards and equipment stuffed in. The fridge was dirty, dried blood in both the fridge and freezer compartments, and left over stale food someone must have forgotten. It was obvious than no attempt had been made to clean anything in ages. We decided to keep our food in our cold box and buy some ice.
We found all the security a bit alarming. There was a guard on the gate and every one going in and out had to sign a book. In order to get a look at the kitchen we had to get a key, it was kept locked. We were pleased to find that the ablution block was clean, if sparse and tired, but the towel rail was locked in place. It had been hot all day and rather windy, but as the sun set the wind dropped and black clouds hovered over the horizon. We went to bed thinking about four years ago, when we had intended to come to Lesotho. We camped on the eastern Drakensberg side on a beautiful sunny evening intending to cross over into Lesotho next day. The rain started in the night and lasted for 48 hours with temperatures not rising above 10C. We went to the Indian Ocean coast instead.
The first night we spent at Maseru Backpackers was quite peaceful, we could hear the distant traffic but nothing intrusive. Unfortunately the only braai was way down the terraces, in the communal picnic area so we raided our emergency stores and had a supper of baked beans, tinned sardines and bread, with a salad of tomatoes, cucumber, avocado, garlic and onions. Yesterday we braved the traffic back through the Maseru ring road and took the southernmost route, the A2 to Quthing. We were aware that this road skirted around the mountains and was mostly through lowland plains, but I was unprepared for the desolate scenery. I had expected Lesotho to resemble the western highlands of Swaziland, pine covered mountains reaching into the sky. Instead we saw arid plains of dry grass, a few sheep and goats, and little else. In the distance we could see the towering mountains to the north. We passed through several small hamlets with a few basic shops and caught glimpses of thatched rondavels away from the road.
Last night at Maseru Backpackers was noisy to say the least. We returned from our drive and after a shower had another ‘emergency stores’ supper. We were aware of lots of vehicles coming through the security gate, but no-one came to the campsite. We realised that groups of people were checking into the Backpackers Dorms. As we finished eating and settled down for the evening three cars drove onto the campsite to an area of flat land a short distance from us. They all put their car radios on at top volume and proceeded to party. When we arrived a young woman at reception told us that they were expecting a group on the Friday, but that we would be fine to camp Wednesday and Thursday. In our naivety we had assumed that as it was a religious centre and groups would be church groups. We were very wrong about that, and she obviously had her days wrong about when the groups would arrive.
So today we packed up and moved here to The Roma Trading Lodge. I just can’t believe the difference, I do so wish we had come here first and used this as our base. We have pitched our tent on a green sloping lawn in front of a nice house, which doesn’t seem to be occupied. We saw a white woman, who is obviously the owner, when we arrived and then we were handed over to a Basutu man who introduced himself as the Guide. He showed us where the camping area is, and advised on a good shady spot. We haven’t got electricity to the actual tent but there is a plug on the outside of the ablutions block. The great surprise was when he asked us if we would like to see the shop in case we needed anything. To our amazement the shop turned out to be a great big barn of a place, with a range of products. As well as the usual soap, corn meal, oil and coca-cola, there was a full range of building and plumbing supplies, cloth and household goods. We learnt that local people still bring their maize in by donkey to have it ground into flour.
Saturday 28 November – Roma Trading Lodge
The night we thought was going to be so quiet and peaceful here turned out to be far from it. Somewhere close by a blood and thunder religious service started about 22.00. I slept through the first bit, which John tells me was all about evil sinners and seeking redemption. By the time I woke up it was all about shouting and rejoicing, I expect they had all given the preacher quite a lot of their money by then. I think the worst bit was the tuneless piano playing, grossly amplified of course. Every half an hour or so the pianist stopped for ten minutes or so, presumably needing a break, and I was lulled into a sense of relief and drifted off to sleep, just as he restarted with new vigour and enthusiasm. I think it all stopped finally at about 05.00, the ibis had finished their dawn chorus, which is usually around 04.30.
I slept fitfully until 07.00, rather than my usual waking time of 06.00 so we were later than usual leaving this morning, by the time we had had coffee and a leisurely breakfast. We took a link road avoiding the Maseru traffic and picked up the road to Thaba Besi. It was another amazing trip, startling and stunning scenery. I felt real justification for Lesotho’s claim, `the Kingdom in the Sky’. There were some outcrops of trees, but mostly it was scrub, but greener and denser scrub than we had seen lower down, and certainly in the more southern parts of the country. The road wound through some hairpin bends, up and down through mountain passes. Sometimes as we went down one mountain side, I could see the road winding almost vertically up the next mountain ahead of us. The highest pass we went through was at 2,666 metres. The sign beside the road proclaimed it as `The God Help Us Pass’. We were amazed to see that even at well over 2,000 metres hillsides were being cultivated. It seemed to be mostly maize.
There were also sheep and goats grazing at those heights, and occasionally some cows. We passed mainly small groups of thatched rondavels tucked into the hillsides or in neat flat areas, with no electricity or vehicular access. We often saw people carrying large containers, presumably of water, or with bundles of shrubby sticks across their shoulders or laden onto a donkey. Once again their were wrapped in a variety of blankets, many colours and designs. If they wearing their blankets now, in summer, I wonder what they wear in the winter. At 2,000 metres, coming up to mid-summer, the temperature hovered around 14C. It must be so cold in the winter and I couldn’t see any chimneys or smoke outlets in the rondavels. We went as far as the Mohale Dam, although we didn’t get right down to the Dam itself. John started down the road which indicated that it led to the point at which the water flowed through a 32 km long tunnel to reach the Katsi Dam further north. This road seemed particularly tortuous and my tolerance of heights and hairpin bends was becoming over-stretched, so I asked if we really needed to go. John kindly agreed that we could turn back. We had already agreed that we would not proceed any further to the end of the road, which would have taken us over the 2,800 metre pass. It would have made for a very long day of driving and we felt that another 200 metres wasn’t worth it.
As we made our way back to Roma we passed some young boys holding up what looked like lumps of rock for sale. We passed the first group and then at a straight piece of road where we could stop we saw another boy all on his own. When we stopped he offered us a piece of split rock, opened to show the quartz. He asked us for R5. We gave him R20 and some pens and notebooks. He was more than happy and asked us for a lift home. He became a little less shy and brave with his English. He called out the names of some of the animals we saw, sheep, goats, horse, dog. He told us that his name is Andrew and he is ten years old. We told him to shout Stop when we got close to where he lived. We went for several kilometres, which he must have walked earlier, before he shouted. He ran down a barely visible track off the road, we could see some rondavels in the distance.
As we were driving back past Maseru in the early afternoon we decided to risk the traffic and drive into the centre in search of a supermarket where we could stock up on provisions. It was still very busy, chaotic with cars and mini-buses. We found a shopping centre and were able to get everything we needed, both for the braai tonight and for our onward journey tomorrow. We are going to move further north in Lesotho to a place called Aloes Lodge, which we will use as a base for exploring the rest of the country.
Monday 30 November – Bloemfontein
Where to start with the last thirty-six hours! We packed up the tent at The Roma Trading Post yesterday morning and moved up to The Aloes Lodge, as planned. It was a much larger concern than the Trading Lodge and seemed more impersonal. There were lots and lots of bungalow type chalets set out in rows, and a Conference Centre, with meeting rooms and restaurant facilities. We had a problem as soon as we arrived because John didn’t see a large gulley at the edge of the Car Park. He went a little too far forward and dropped the front wheels into it. He couldn’t get enough power from the engine in reverse to get it out. We had to get some help from a couple of young men who were loading up a truck nearby. They had to actually lift the front of the car up in order to get it back on level ground.
The camping area was right at the far end of the Lodge property, really just a large open area sloping down to some public land. It was accessed by a separate dirt road and entrance, there were no fences or security. It was not very promising when we were first shown the camping area as it was covered in litter. We realised that it was first thing on a Sunday morning and there could well have been a large gathering there on the previous day, with braai and partying. The young woman who showed us the campsite and appeared to be in charge said she would send someone down to clear it all up, and a man soon appeared with a big black dustbin bag. The toilets were open and the showers were locked, but when I asked about them someone soon came and unlocked one and replaced the toilet paper. We found a nice shady place under a tree which was an ideal spot for the tent. Things were looking better, even though the site hadn’t looked very good when we first arrived, we hadn’t booked so our early arrival would have been a surprise, the staff had soon sorted it out for us.
We decided to put up the tent and just unpacked our basic equipment into it, the thick throw for the floor, the sleeping mats, sleeping bags, table and chairs. We drove out along the N? Road, heading for the Katse Dam. The scenery on this road was even more what I had expected for `The Kingdom in the Sky’, towering mountains and green slopes. There was cultivation at amazing altitudes, over 2,500 metres and more animals. This area in the north looked to be a much more comfortable living environment than the more southern parts of the country. We climbed and climbed, once again winding round hair-pin bends, and up and down like a roller coaster. The high point was a pass at 3,092 metres. We decided not to continue to the dam itself as we intended to do some more exploring on the following day.
When we got back to the campsite I saw as soon as I unzipped the front porch of the tent that one of our chairs was missing. Then I noticed that the bedroom unit zip was undone and all the contents missing. My cries of alarm soon brought John running, and we realised in dismay that most of our camping equipment had been stolen. We went immediately to the reception office and told the people there what had happened. The woman who had initially checked us in wasn’t there, but the person we spoke to soon alerted two other women. They were very surprised and didn’t seem to know what they should do. One suggested that she would find the women who were responsible for cleaning the side, in case they had taken the stuff thinking that the tent had been abandoned. As we had only just erected it, that didn’t seem a very likely explanation.
At the time it was obviously a distressing, annoying and frustrating experience. Now, writing this up in the quiet, secure and luxurious surroundings of Cherry Tree Lodge it has probably turned into one of the memorable incidents of this trip. Describing it is going to be a lengthy job and something we will dine out of for some time to come, so let's give it a try. The women at the campsite were understandably upset and concerned, and they phoned the police and somebody in authority who turned out to be the woman we had met when we first arrived. I had thought she was rather brusque and off-hand then, but when she came back after the theft she was very friendly and helpful. We gathered that she was not the owner, but a manager. We had established that the items missing were the thick cotton throw which I always took to put on the bottom of the tent, both the sleeping mats, pillows and sleeping bags, and one of the chairs. We thought it likely that the thieves had been disturbed as they had left the other chair and the folding table, and also the bag for one of the sleeping mats. We thought that there had probably been a lookout on the top road with a mobile phone watching out for our car to return. Everything would have been bundled up in a hurry into the large cotton throw and carried away.
We were sitting on a bench under a tree talking about this when one of the woman working at the lodge returned with a young man. They strolled over to us and we said hello, and that we were waiting for the Police. The young man told us that he was the Police and introduced himself as Detective Christopher. I know it's one of the jokes about getting old, that the Police look so young, but honestly he didn't look more than about 18 and was dressed in baggy jeans, a T-shirt and a sun hat patterned with Cannabis leaves. We did of course, leap to our feet and apologise for not appreciating who he was. He asked us if we had touched anything, as he needed to conduct a Scene of Crime Investigation. We said that we had as we had gone inside the tent to see what was missing. He asked who had discovered the crime, and I told him that it was me, as I had got out of the car first and had gone to the tent and unzipped it. So he replied that the best thing to do would be for me to be The Reporter of the Crime and to re-play the Scene of Crime and he would take notes.
This presented him with his first problem as he had neither notebook or pen. I offered him a page from a notebook which I had and a pen. He accepted the pen but said that the paper needed to be A4 as he would have to photocopy it when we went back to the Police Station. One of the women scurried off back to the Reception Office and returned with a sheet of paper torn out of an A4 sized notebook. As it was a single sheet he found it difficult to write on it so I went and got my pad for him again. Detective Christopher and I walked back to where the car was parked and approached the tent together. He asked if I had noticed anything unusual, to which I replied no. He told me to repeat my actions as I had done when I discovered the Crime. So I went through the motions of unzipping the tent fly, stepping inside and calling out to John that a chair was missing and also all the the contents of the sleeping area. Detective Christopher asked if I had touched anything, I told him no even though I was mistified as to the reason for the question as if he didn’t have pen and paper he certainly wouldn’t have equipment for fingerprint detection. He made copious notes and said that we would need to go back to the Police Station so that he file an official report. The women from the site conjectured that it might have been kids from the nearby village who had taken our things, and that they would go to see the chief and ask him to find out what he could.
We took Detective Christopher back to the Police Station in our car. The access to the Station was terrible, down a narrow lane with contorted bends. Once at the Station we went into a front office where I was offered the only chair. Two other man were perched on stools watching a football match on the television. One of them appeared to be the Senior Officer. Rather disgruntledly he turned the sound down on the television when we arrived. Detective Christopher told him what had happened and was shown which books he had to use to fill in the details and file the report. The Senior Officer called another man in to help him, but as it was obvious this was going to take some time and would interfere with the football match he turned the television off, took his jacket and went home.
Detective Christopher started the paper work. It went on and on, very frustrating as all we really needed was a crime report number and an official stamp which we could forward to the Insurance Company. The details of the Crime were laboriously copied in longhand into at least two notebooks, and then Detective Christopher prepared my Witness Statement beginning, “Mrs Carolyn Batch, white female of 72 years, resident of 5, Ampthill Street, in the City of Norwich, in the County of Norfolk, etc., etc”. As Detective Christopher was having some problems with the spelling of the place names I wrote our address out for him to copy. All went well until he came to ‘U.K.’ He asked if U.K. stood for Europe and I explained that it was United Kingdom. This perplexed him greatly.
“I thought you were from Europe?”
We are.
“Well, where is England?” “What is the United Kingdom?” Finally we settled for ‘England, Europe’.
Thinking this over later it was very thought provoking in the current issues over the role of the U.K. in or out of Europe. England meant very little, it was Europe which was the important identity. There was no appreciation that England, or for that matter I suspect, Scotland, Ireland and Wales were not part of the European Continental mass.
The 'bush telegraph' had obviously been at work. Two women from the village appeared at the Police Station, leading, almost dragging a little boy, whose name we learnt was Tom. We learnt that he was ten and a key witness. He was tiny, smaller than Magnus, our six year old grandson. He had dry, dusty, bare feet with broken toe-nails. His stick-thin legs protruded from a pair of torn and baggy football shorts, too large for him. He wore a faded T-shirt of an unidentifiable colour, torn at the neck and the hem. He was obviously terrified. I wanted so much to hug him, to tell him it was OK, it didn't matter. I held back with difficulty. I knew from my time in Tanzania that to him I was an alien. It was doubtful that a white person had ever shown him any kindness, had ever touched him caringly. He was told to speak, and started to talk, his head and face down, looking at the ground. He was told to speak up, and his voice became barely audible as he told his story. Detective Christopher translated for us. Tom had been hanging out with some other kids from the village, interested to see the white people putting up their tent. They'd seen us leave and had played around in the trees. Then he saw some men come in a white bakkie. All the bakkies or pick-ups, around here are white, or were once. They went to our tent, and went inside it. Then he saw them come out quickly with a bundle of things wrapped up in a heavy cloth, which they carried between them, and take it to the bakkie and drive off very quickly.
Once he had finished giving his evidence I felt I could say something, so I knelt down beside him and asked one of the women to translate. I told him what a brave, big boy he was and how pleased we were. I went to the car and got a pile of notebooks and pens we had brought with us. Then, appreciating that the only value of those to him would probably be if he could sell them on or exchange them, I took the last of our sweets as well. He wouldn't look at me, or take them, so I gave them to one of the women who had brought him over. They said they would take them to the school.
Tom's evidence bore out what we had assumed. There had been a look-out on the top road with a mobile phone who had alerted the thieves to the fact that we were returning. We both thought we could recall passing an old white bakkie coming from the direction of the campsite as we made our way down the dirt track from the road. If only we had known it contained all our equipment. Ten minutes later, though, and it would have included our tent as well.
All the paper work completed we went back to the Lodge. We were met by the Senior Receptionist, who had obviously been called in. She apologised profusely, said nothing like that had ever happened before. She had spoken to the owner and we were to have a bungalow for the night, and we were invited to join him for supper as his special guests. The bungalow was very comfortable. The supper meal was something else. The owner was a larger than life character who regailed us with many stories. He had two other supper guests, a South African couple who dealt in semi-precious gem stones called, wait for it! De Boers. We had in fact asked directions from the man when we arrived. He was in a workshop at the entrance to the Lodge. We learnt that he is a retired architect who had a passionate hobby in seeking out and polishing gem-stones. Since his retirement it has become a second occupation. I had to be very careful here, we were guests. It seemed to me that he had a number of local people, probably like the little boy, Andrew, who had sold us the quartz, who scoured the hill sides and picked up stones for which he paid a pittance. Once they were polished they became valuable beyond any amount their finders could imagine.
The meal, the food, the wine was excellent. Functioning at a different level we had an enjoyable and entertaining evening.
We are now at Cherry Tree Lodge in Bloemfonteim, Free State. Not somewhere we had ever thought we would be. We packed up and left Lesotho early this morning. Packed up! That's a joke. We put our overnight bags in the car. We left Lesotho and as soon as we were back in South Africa with a telephone signal we phoned ahead to Cherry Tree Lodge, snatched at random from our LP Guidebook and were told we could have a room for the night. We knew we would have to replace our camping equipment before we could continue the trip and Bloemfontaine had come up as the nearest place with good shopping facilities.
Cherry Tree Lodge is amazing. We have one of the most luxurious rooms and bathrooms we have ever stayed in, everything we could want, including a good WiFi connection. I've even downloaded and caught up with The Archers. All this for the equivalent of about £40 a night, a combination of the low cost of living here and the amazing exchange rate of 24 Rand to the £. Evidently there has been a major upset in the government and the Finance Minister has been sacked, so the Rand has fallen in value.
We went shopping in a large Mall in central Bloemfontein and we have replaced all our missing camping equipment with new stuff. It has probably cost us less than the things we have lost and is of better quality. We had a pizza at a corner restaurant. The portions were enormous which probably goes some way to explain many of the rather large people we have seen here. This part of Bloemfontein is very much white Afrikaans residential so all a bit austere. If we had more time it might have been nice to take in a bit more of this very different art of South Africa.
Tuesday 01 December - Gariep Dam
We had a problem finding a National Parks campsite at a reasonable distance from Bloemfontein so we have had to settle for one in the 'Forever' chain of holiday resorts. We stayed in a chalet at the Blythe River Canyon Camp a couple of years ago. The chalet was great, but the site was just like a large holiday camp, which is of course what it intends to be. This one is much the same, hundreds of chalets of different sizes and standards, all set aound the Gariep Dam which forms a large lake advertising various water sports. The camping area is flat and featureless, on an old floodplain, the pitches divided up by a few sad trees. This could be the result of the second year of drought the whole of southern South Africa has experienced over the last couple of years. The lake is very, very low and there isn't much evidence of water sports taking place. We can see banks and ridges all along the perimetre where the size has reduced. It gives the area a rather dismal feel.
However the facilities at the Camp are amazing. there are the usual swimming pools, bars, cafes, play and entertainment areas associated with such a large scale, privately run enterprise. It is the ablution block for the campsite we find the most amazing, even startling. The Women's and the Men's are two circular areas either end of a larger building. Showers, toilets and full sized bathrooms, with large deep baths are round the perimetre. It the centre, of the Women's, although I learnt from John that the Men's is similar, are a number of booths with strip lighting, three sided mirrors and plugs for various electrical appliances. Most startling of all is the tiling, everywhere is bright, crimson red, shiny tiles, I have never seen anything like it. There is also a dish washing room, a laundry room and an outside area with lots of washing lines in the complex.
We are pleased we have only booked in for one night and look forward to moving on tomorrow.
Thursday 03 December - Camdeboo NP
This is so much more our sort of place. A Natinal Parks, rural seting. The pitches are smaller but laid out in areas surrounded by bush and shrubs. In te centre is a small ablution block, old and in need of some care and attention but scrupulously clean. There are just a couple of toilets, a couple of showers and a wash basin crammed into an area about the size of one of the bathrooms at Gariep Dam. The windows have bars on them and there is a grid door, with a large notice on it to keep shut at all times. There is a similar one at the kitchen area, which is nicel equipped with an electric kettle and a toaster. These are not a defence against possible theft, but to keep out the monkeys which, if they get in, will trash the place. The downside to camping here is that all the pitches are on gravel, an hard, solid, impacted grvel at that. We really need ed our extra long, extra strong tent pegs, and the discarded broken pegs were witness to the fact that many other people had not come as well equipped as us.
Camdeboo is a nice Park, with some surprises. We went for a drive and discovered a very nice complex for day visitors, although it was not eing used at the moment. There is a swimming pool, a central hut with toilets and kitchen facilities and lots of individual areas with picnic benches and braais. It all looks very new and I remmber reading about a SANParks initiative to raise more money by making the Parks faciliies available and atractive to day visitors. It is aimed at local people, who might not use the Parks if they travel, and of course many people don't travel far from home. They would pay a day entry fee and be able to use those facilities for picnics and familt days out, they couldn't stay overnight and wouldn't have access to the rest of the Park and the Game Drives.
Last night we met Andy and Carol at Gariep Dam They were pitched not far from us and John got into a conversation with them over the fact that our kettle seemed to be tripping the electric connection. Andy was very helpful and they tried several combinations of equipment before we decided that our £5 kettle we had bought at the beginning of the trip had just reached the end of it's life and we needed to replace it. Now we have met up with them again here at Camdeboo. They are a very nice couple and Carol is definitely someone I could spend time with. They are camping with their daughter who is a care worker in an orphanage and the teenage daughter she has recently adopted. They are also accompanied by the young daughter's daughter's boyfriend. They are making their way in easy stages to a coastal resort in the Western Cape for their holiday. They are an unusual group compared to most people we have met when camping in South Africa, three white adults and the two black teenagers. I think we have only ever seem maybe two black families camping, and no Coloureds at all. In the northern parts of South Africa we did see some Asian/Indian families. We chatted for quite a long time and we could easily have spent more time with them, but tomorrow we move on in seperate directions.
Friday 04 December - Outsdorn
We needed to make another stop on our way down to theWestern Cape coast. We have come to a Holiday Park in the town of Outsdorn. It is a quiet discrete place, far removed from the flamboyant Forever resort at Gariep Dam. We were surprised that on a Friday night there are so few people here. We have a large pitch at the bottom end of the site, quite on our own. We pickd up supplies on the way and enjoyed an excellent braai. It's hot. John took a dip in the pool. I had a cool shower.
Sunday 06 December - De Hoop Nature Reserve
Yesterday was quite a long day. We were away from Outsdorn in good time, by 07.30, and we stopped in Riversdale to buy supplies. John had set the SatNav to take us to The De Hoop Nature Reserve, but had also excluded non-tarred roads. This resulted in taking us along a lengthy and convaluted route. When it became obvious that it was not possible to get to De Hoop without using gravel roads John changed the setting. The SatNav then attempted to take us cross country from where we were. The dirt road became a track, became worse and worse and eventually we ground to a halt when the track ended in the middle of a field. We turned back and were lucky enough to meet a man in a bakkie, presumably a farmer, he ha a dog in the back. He seemed slightly amused when we confessed that we were hopelessly lost, having followed our SatNav. He told us that we were about 60 kms off track and pointed us in the correct direction. When we eventually reached the Nature Reserve we saw that gale force winds were blowing. The car doors were whipped out of our hands as we opened them to check in at reception. We explained to the extremely nice young woman that we had a very light weight tent, which might not be able to stand up to such windy conditions. She advised us to take a look at the campsite and see if we could find a seheltered spot. We found a site, tucked well into some bushes and managed to get the tent up, tying a couple of the guys into trees as extra anchorage.
We were just about to unload the rest of our gear into the tent when the same young woman arrived in one of the Reserve vehicles to say that she had spoken to Head Office and as they weren’t busy and considering the very high winds she could offer us an upgrade to a rondavel at no extra cost. A campsite pitch was R300 a night and a rondavel R900. We took a look at the rondavel and immediately accepted the very kind offer, they are right at the edge of the Vlei, brackish inland lake, which is a high point of the Reserve’s appeal, especially for bird-watchers. It is equipped with fridge, kettle, toaster, all bedding, towels, crockery and cutlery. The ablutions, shared between five rondavels are four toilets and two showers. The showers really swung it for us. Each shower is in a circular stone enclosure and is uncovered, that is an outside shower. Our outside shower is still one of the things we miss most about our Greek house. John showered outside throughout the year, on occasion with snow on the ground. I was not so brave, I enjoyed it for most of the year but have to admit that in the middle of winter I enjoyed the indoor shower and drying off in front of our big log fire. The wind dropped sufficiently for us to be able to braai, but we had to sit inside with the door open in order to enjoy our game of Crib.
It was overcast when we woke up this morning, but the wind had dropped completely. Slowly the sun started to break through and the Reserve was a totally different place. There are so many birds. We have borrowed Margo’s detailed `Birds of Southern Africa’ book, but it is far too detailed for us amateurs to make accurate identifications. We are happy if we just get the specie correct. We took a lieisurely 3.5 Km walk around the rim of the Vlei with a helpful and instructive guide. We followed that with a drive alongside and through the white sand dunes to the Indian Ocean. Once again there were so many birds. We saw nesting Sacred Ibis with their young and Secretary Birds. The smaller birds are too many to identify and record, particularly as we are not exactly sure what every one was. It was low tide, but the Indian Ocean was still quite wild, with waves pounding on rocks. The sand dunes are pure white, and extend along the coast. They are spectacular, but I’m not sure if they can compete with either the apricot dunes of Sossovlei in Namibia or the towering mountainous dunes of the western desert in Egypt, close to the Libyan border.
Wednesday 09 December – The Cederberg
We left De Hoop on Monday morning, so pleased to have spent time there. We would happily go back to camp, although the luxury of the randavel is tempting. As Monday was our last evening we decided to treat ourselves by going to the Reserve's much acclaimed restaurant, The Fig Tree, for a meal. It was all very posh, some guests, presumably those staying in the very exclusive and expensive bungalows, looked as if they had actually dressed for dinner. The food was exquisite, the service amazing, the ambience discrete and understated. We were prepared for a hefty bill but when I saw John's expression as he turned it over I thought it must be even more than we had anticipated. Then he said that there had been a mistake and called the waiter over to explain that we hadn't been charged for the meal, just the bottle of wine we had ordered. The waiter explained that our meal was complimentary, it came with the rondavel. We can only think that an upgrade note hadn't been added to our account. Incidentally the bottle of wine cost almost as much as we might normally pay for the meal, but it was extemely excellent. A treat indeed. We walked slowly back to the rondavel in smooth moonlight, musing on how this trip, supposedly an 'unadventure-ish' one has had some low points, but so many high ones.
Monday night we stayed at The Bathes, a spa holiday resort place close to Citrusdal. First impressions were not good, tents crowded together in an area very close to the access road, but we just needed a stopover for the night. Further up the roadway were the hot bathes and the spa, but there was development and building work in progress, which meant it was very noisy and dusty. We explored further down and to our great delight we found that the further away from the pool, the restaurant and all the activities we were the quieter and nicer the camping pitches were. So we went back to reception and asked it we could take one of those pitches. Quite honestly neither of us had any inclination to plunge our bodies into water at 43C when the temperature was in the mid 30s, a cold shower sounded much more attractive. We had a quiet and peaceful evening and night, although there were strong winds rattling through the trees above us. It did mean that it was cooler and we both slept well.
So yesterday morning we drove the short distance further north, through yet more road works, into Clanwilliam and then on into The Cederberg. We passed a few places along the dirt road advertising accommodation, including camping but we both liked the sound of Jamaka so we carried on to here. The site is lovely but last night we were plagued by flies, big ones as we cooked and ate and then swarms of small annoying flies which got everywhere. Fortunately neither of them were of the biting variety.
We arrived at Jamaka Organic Citrus and Mango Farm yesterday. The campsite is down by the river and vast. We have done a bit of exploring and seen signs for Pitches up to 68. There is so much land set aside for camping that the pitches are all very large and tucked away between trees and bushes. We have chosen one in a little cul-de-sac all of its own, looking out over a small dammed pool in the river. It is very quiet and peaceful at the moment, but I suspect that by this time next week it will be very busy here, with most of the pitches taken. We have seen groups of older white children so probably the private schools have broken for Xmas already, but the holidays begin in earnest next weekend, certainly the pitch we are on is booked out from Friday.
We are still undecided about where to make our next stop. Working backwards from the end of the trip we have realised that it will be a long day next Monday if we are going to detour to McGregor between leaving Elands Bay on the West Coast and going to the Airport. We would possibly also arrive at McGregor at the same time as Thembi, Albino and Sofie, giving us little opportunity to catch up with Margo. We tried to get in touch with her to see if it would be convenient for us to spend the day with her on Monday, leaving De Hoop by 08.00 we would be in McGregor by 10.00, but for some reason we couldn’t get a phone connection. We decided to carry on and we got to Citrusdal by lunchtime. As it happened, when we did make contact with Margo, she had other guests anyway so we still wouldn’t do much catching up.
This morning we drove down the dirt road in a southerly direction, following the route we took in January 2012, as we completed our two month trip in Southern Africa. The scenery was as impressive as before, but much of the other details, campsites we considered then, were not as we recalled them. Two at least appeared to have been updated and improved, maybe for the better. The Cederberg is impressive, but probably its biggest attraction is for hikers or mountain bicyclists. We have been to many other places since we first came here, to New Zealand, to The Drakensberg, to Matopos and other places in Zimbabwe. Maybe mountains can get to be like Zebras, when does excitement start to fade?
John has just come with some devastating news. Our 12-pack of beer has gone missing from the fridge! He just went over to the kitchen area to get us both a cold beer and has come back empty handed! What is with this holiday? We have never had theft from camp-sites before. He has gone to the Office Shop to buy some more.
Update: We have donesome more thinking about the end of the trip and have revised our plans, yet again. We had already realised that we would have the very long journey next Monday and we would not arrive at McGregor until after lunch. So we have changed the booking for the cottage at Elands Bay for tomorrow and Thursday and booked a chalet at The Bontebok National Park for Saturday and Sunday. It means that we will be spending the last four nights in accommodation rather than camping, but as we haven’t had any rain we have camped almost exclusively on this trip. We have been to Bontebok before, the only place we will have revisited on this trip, it is very nice there. It means that we are even closer to McGregor than we were at De Hoop so will be able to spend a morning with Margo before the others arrive at lunchtime. We can say hello to Thembi and Albino and get to meet little Sophie before having plenty of time left to get to the airport.
Friday 11 December - Elands Bay
We left The Cederberg yesterday morning and travelled back through Clanwilliam to buy some replacement beers, and a few more odds and ends, before heading for the Atlantic coast. Our first stop was in Lamberts Bay, which was a bit of a down-at-heel fishing port with some beautiful beaches. The tall chimneys of the fish processing and packing factories dominated the landscape but the beaches were sweeping white sands backed by sparse dunes. We continued further round the coast to Elands Bay and to Vensterklip, where we are staying now. With the change of plan for our end of trip arrangements we have last night and tonight in a cottage here. The cottage is quite nice, on a slightly sloping hillside, looking out over part of the Vlei and the wetlands. The actual complex, with restaurant, bar and camping is further down the slope, next to the Vlei and across a very busy road. There is a continuous stream of traffic along the road on two sides of the cottage and yesterday evening the perpetual roar of heavy goods vehicles was deafening. We are not sure where they are going to and from, the main north-south road is the N7, Citrusdal to Clanwilliam route which we took. There are some road works on it causing delays, but we can’t think that would cause the freight lorries to make this slower and lengthy detour. The cottage is also completely isolated, with just a small wire fence surrounding it and no security whatsoever. Normally this wouldn’t bother us at all, but we have never stayed anywhere in South Africa without high security fencing, often electric, this does not include the game parks, barriers, guards and night watchmen. Our anxieties weren’t helped by the chatty barman at the restaurant telling us that crime in S.A. is out of hand, with so many people being raped and murdered in their beds. So neither of us slept very well last night. When the noise of the traffic and the howling winds finally calmed down we were alert to every creak, groan and tap from the roof and walls of the old building.
Yesterday afternoon we took a look around Elands Bay, which is divided into north and south by the Vlei. We went down to the beach, but unfortunately the wind had started to get up and was blowing fiercely. One or two people in wet-suits were wind surfing, and rushing in with the surf. The sand was so white that when the sun came out the glare was too much to bear. It was like the white desert in western Egypt, without dark sun glasses it was impossible to keep your eyes open. We retreated back to the cottage which has two nice stoeps (verandahs). The front one looks out over the Vlei, but with the wind it was impossible to sit there. It was an entirely different world on the back stoep, looking further up the hillside. It was so calm we kept checking on the front stoep because we thought the wind must have dropped. John lit the braai and we had we had a nice meal, followed by a few games of Crib and an excellent bottle of Cederberg Chenin Blanc, taking advantage of our fridge. One of the nicest white wines I have ever tasted, at R82, about £4, unbelievably good.
One of the reasons for coming to the West Coast was to return to the Beach Restaurant where we had an amazing sea-food meal four years ago. However the restaurant is close to Lamberts Bay, where we had intended to spend last night and tonight, before our change of plans. In retrospect I should have given us last night at Lamberts Bay, then we could have eaten at the restaurant last night, then come here for tonight and tomorrow night and just the last night at Bontebok. It was much further from Lamberts Bay to Elands Bay than I had remembered. Four years ago we had our sea-food meal at lunchtime, but when we phoned to enquire they are only open for evening meals at the moment, until next week when the holidays get in full swing. So as it would have meant driving back from Lamberts Bay in the dark on unlit roads last night we cancelled the meal and had our braai here instead.
So today we took a trip into Veldrifft, further along the coast closer to Cape Town, a fishing port with a big influx of second home Cape Townians. It was a long drive along a back road through featureless dunes and fynbos. Occasionally we saw fields which looked as if a cereal crop had been harvested from them, also evidence of potato cultivation. Coming from beautiful green and golden East Anglia I thought how soul destroying it must be to be an agricultural farmer here. In places, where the white dunes reached into the fields, it looked as if they were cultivating pure sand. Fields which hadn’t been recently irrigated were dry and arid, maybe a few sheep nuzzling amongst the despairing tough grasses remaining in some places. Veldrifft and its port settlement of Langepaii were a pleasant surprise. Langepaii was as scruffy as a working fishing port should be, not a picture book resemblance. Veldrifft itself was smarter, very much a holiday resort and very, very Afrikaans. We bought a bag of 6 small fish, I didn’t recognise the Afrikaans name but they looked a bit like grey mullet, and a bag of large prawns for about £6, and a good sized lobster for about £7. We intend to have our own fish braai tonight. Veldrifft being up-market Afrikaans second home land we also found a proper bakery, so we are looking forward to some real bread with our fish.
I’ve cleaned the fish and they aren’t mullet, if anything they are more like the spiny fish we used to get in Greece. The fish shops had the most amazing array of really big fish, and a lot of the vehicles we saw coming in for their Xmas holiday at their rented or second homes were towing boats, so fishing is obviously really big time here. The small fish should be OK, but we have never barbecued lobster or prawns before, so it should be interesting.
Tomorrow we are on the final stage of the trip, to Bontebok, where we will sort out the car, the accumulation on the past month, and pack for our return trip. I am very glad we came back to S.A. for this trip, it has been a good one. However S.A. hasn’t made the tremendous impact on me which it did first time round. It could be the places we have been to, it was our intention to go to some places we missed out first time. Maybe there was a reason why we missed those places out first time, they weren’t on the must-see, must-do circuit. Maybe the 2-year drought which has stricken Southern Africa has taken its toll. It has all been so dry, and dusty and really not so exciting. We agreed that there is so much more to Southern Africa than the animals, but I have missed them. I have missed the common animals, ones we have seen so many times before, the elephants, the hippos, the herds of zebra, buffalo and wildebeest. The birds have been a bonus, but I think the birds in Zimbabwe were more varied and flamboyant. Doubtless I will review this again at the end of the trip, maybe discuss it with John, it’s the sort of thing we do trying to stay awake at Schipol.
Sunday 12 December – Bontebok National Park.
It’s four years since we were last here and many changes have taken place. We remember this Park as having a very nice campsite back then, but at the beginning of January it was packed. Now, just a day before we expect lots of people will arrive at the start of the long summer/xmas holiday, there is hardly anyone there. The chalets, where we are staying, weren’t even built then. An area of hillside, overlooking the Breede River has been cleared, leaving a line of vegetation next to the river itself. Ten very, very nice chalets have been built. We are in No. 7, close to the river edge with a wonderful view over the river from its slightly elevated position. The chalets have been carefully thought out and blend into the surroundings as well as being very comfortable. They are built almost entirely of wood and glass, on raised decks. The glass sides are screened by blinds, but can be opened up at will. There are sliding patio doors looking out on two sides. The windows have insect screens. There is an undercover braai area and the chalets are fully equipped. Yesterday evening the clouds cleared sufficiently to give us a wonderful sunset beyond the river, the water reflecting back the fading light. Magic.
We enjoyed our last evening at Elands Bay. John excelled himself with the sea-food braai. I have to say that had I have known how delicious a barbecued lobster was going to be I would have had one all to myself. My small fish were very nice, and very tasty, but John was kind enough to share his lobster and his giant prawns. As the wind didn’t get up as it had on the previous evening we were able to sit out on the front stoep. As the bats appeared and circled above our heads we realised what the noises in the roof had been. I had felt that there was a smell in the bathroom, not strong but definitely there. I had thought it was just drains in an old property. It might have been the bats. Tight netting was stretched on the underside of the tin roof and crevices outside on the stoeps had been stuffed with foil, but I know from my Tanzanian experiences how clever bats are at finding a way in. The owners have been very good at confining them, there was no evidence of bat infestation dripping down the walls.
The cottage was adequate, but it needs a bit of care and attention, and it doesn’t quite work with the conversion. I think maybe it works better as a winter retreat, with log fire and the big TV. When we woke and went outside yesterday morning wtering.o the gute weren’t sure if there had been a very heavy dew, the car was wet. Somehow we must have slept through a shower of rain, as water was still dripping off the guttering. The sky was overcast, but looked as if it would clear. However as we went further into our cross country journey the clouds became blacker and heavier. We passed through several small showers and then as the altitude increased these became heavier. By the time we reached Worcester there had been several periods of very heavy rain, double speed windscreen wiper stuff and there was surface water lying on the roads. The temperature dropped back to 17C, hardly what would be expected mid-summer in a Mediterranean climate. In fact when we arrived at the Park Reception we were trapped inside for a while after checking in, while we waited for the rain to ease up a bit before making a dash for the car.
I slept well last night. The chalet was very comfortable, no bats in the roof, no insects inside and no fear that somebody might break in at any moment and rape or murder me. After a bit of a lie-in and coffee in bed this morning, we took a drive around the Park. Like most of the National Parks except for Kruger Bontebok is more about plants and birds. Even though we are past the Spring flowering period there is much to see in the Fynbos. The Protea flowers are dried and withered, but many other species are apparent, particularly the grasses and ericas. We did part of one of the walks alongside the river and the smell of the Mimosa was heavy in the air. We revisited some places from four years ago and remembered them well.
Back at the chalet by lunchtime, we have spent the first part of this afternoon organising our re-packing for the return flight. It worked well with the chalet’s wide decks, we were able to empty out the car completely and give it a bit of a clean-up inside. John then sorted out various items between our two bags, distributing weight and bulk to meet the airline’s requirements. He had made content lists as he had packed in Norwich at the start of the trip so he had a fair idea of what went where. Interestingly the sleeping mats and bags we have purchased to replace those stolen in Lesotho are lighter and take up less space than the ones we brought from England. I suppose it’s the difference between buying from a budget outlet like Go Outdoors and branded goods which we have bought here.
So tomorrow we will make a prompt start to get to McGregor and spend some time with Margo before she goes to the Airport to meet Thembi and family. We will hang out until she gets back to say hello to them before we leave for the airport in our turn. Then home, in time for Xmas.
Conclusions - Norwich
It's so difficult looking back on each trip. We draw comparisons, but it is never like with like. Each one is unique. Even returning to the same place again does not mean we have the same experiences. I am sure that if circumstances permit we will return to Southern Africa and to South Africa, maybe not to Lesotho. It is not beause of the fact that we experienced theft in Lesotho, jusy that we have too many places and not enough time.
I think Southern Africa is always going to be our destination of choice and South Africa itself will be special. This trip has been different, all about places and people, not animals. I thought it wouldn't matter, I had become quite blasé about 'not another elephant/giraffe/buffaloo', but I have really missed them. Funnily enough I don't rate the big cats, which seem to instill so much excitement so highly. It's the other animals, from the little duiker to the porcupines and of course the birds. The elephant will always be king.
Maybe we need to step outside our comfort zone and consider a different continent for our next trip.
