Author: jennystevens28

25th May 2017

We left Camp Itumela at 9am after a leisurely breakfast. Breaking camp is simple and a routine is starting to develop. First police check point our hearts in our throats – do we have the correct Pooch Passport? Waved through without a care but visitors to Botwana must remember to stop at the stop sign and wait for the police to wave you forward.

A glorious day, winter has been left behind in South Africa. The road winds through a flat, tree filled landscape with the occasional bolder strewn outcrop. The old road, which runs adjacent to the new one, is used as a bicycle lane by the locals. Gangs with slashers are clearing a strip approximately 30meters on either side of the road, presumably to increase visibility of animals coming out of the thick bush. If you look carefully you see the occasional homestead or fence hidden behind a screen of bush making us wonder if there is more development than meets the eye a carefully calculated distance away from the road.

There are an increasing number of trucks on the road but yesterday was a holiday and we understand that there are clear rules that apply to trucks, restricting their use over weekends and holidays. There are still fences on the side of the roads so there are no animals grazing on the verges. The approach to the small town of Tonata was heralded by streets lined with innovative solar street lights.

 

We arrived at Woodlands to find a green lawn and a stunning camp with ablutions that are spacious and well maintained. Electricity is an extra P35.00 per day so we elected to remain off the grid (the van lights run off the battery and the fridge freezer has been off since we left SA. You can only take limited meat and no fresh fruit and vegetables across the border so we decided to take no perishables and have purchased simple lunches, milk and bread as we go. Dinner has been purchased at the camps) We discovered that there are bush stands available that have no services but offer camping at a reduced rate we should have stayed there! Woodlands had great frozen meals on offer and the staff delivered them to the van piping hot. Very tasty and great value for money.

Drive: 590km’s
Left: 4:08am
Arrived: 2.45pm
Boarder Crossing: 2 hrs

We left Modderfontein early to avoid the morning commuter traffic and headed north on the N1 towards Polokwane. There were a surprising number of cars on the roads but no holdups and we were north of Hammanskraal before the sun started lightening the morning sky. Sustained by dates and dried peaches we followed the road to Mokopane, through the small town and on to the Martin’s Drift border. The road was in good repair and very quiet. Frequent stops along the way for Hatchiko to explore the smells brought us to the border by 10am. The only interest anybody took of the dog was to greet her and enquire if we had the correct papers for her. They were not examined until the last gate into Botswana. The processing of our passports was quick and friendly, with no registration of our electrical equipment my SA customs as expected. On the Botswana side they looked at the value of our iPhones and enquired if we were planning to trade! When we ensured them that we were in transit to Namibia they signed and stamped the Botswana Unified Revenue Service Customs Declaration documents. The long queue to pay our road permit and insurance (P280.00) was made enjoyable by chatting to the friendly truck drivers.

Once into Botswana the goat, donkey, and cattle lined road to Palapye deteriorated with some astonishingly large potholes. We were welcomed by three ground hornbills also browsing the side of the road and an unidentified vulture high in a tree. The abundant pied crow population pays tribute to the road kills littering the verges.

Once in the small town we purchased lunch and basic groceries with a Visa card with no complications. Wandering into Camp Itumela with the help of the GPS was interesting. The entrance road is hidden behind, and adjacent to, a coal depot and railway station!

Three dogs welcomed Hatchiko and we had set up camp in no time. Priority was making and enjoying lunch under the shade of a Mopane tree; the first real food in 11 hrs.

The quaint camp with outside showers and toilets is under renovation and obviously sees high traffic numbers. As the sun set the vehicles continued to arrive packing in closely as local music and the sound of goat bells completed the ambiance.

Two local beers (P42.00 R100) and a burger and chips, shared, at the bar was delicious. We came back to the van for a few games of Turbo Rummycub and coffee before an early night.

By Gerald Gould (1885-1936)

Beyond the East the sunrise,

beyond the West the sea,

and East and West the wander-thirst that will not let me be;

It works in me like madness dear,

to bid me say goodbye;

For the seas call, and the stars call, and oh! the call of the sky!

I know not where the white road runs,

nor what the blue hills are;

But a man can have the sun for a friend, and for his guide a star;

And there’s no end of voyaging

when once the voice is heard,

For the rivers call, and the roads call, and oh! the call of the bird!

Yonder the long horizon lies,

and there, by night and day

the old ships draw to home again, the young ships sail away;

And come I may, but go I must,

and, if men ask you why,

You may put the blame on the stars and the sun and the white road and the sky!

A visit to Sani Pass – what more magical soul food is there?  And to top it all off, I have an iPhone that takes panoramic or ‘pano’ shots. The only way to even try to capture the breathtaking magnificence of the road leading up to the mountain kingdom. The route up Sani Pass starts at 1544m and climbs 1332 vertical metres to an altitude of 2876 m at the Lesotho boarder post.

Mountain Passes of South Africa https://mountainpassessouthafrica.co.za/find-a-pass/kwazulu-natal/item/410-sani-pass.html has some interesting information and a superb video of the pass and is well worth a visit.

Sani Pass ascends the escarpment of the Drakensberg range of mountains. Dramatic outpourings of lava spread across much of Gondwana about 180 million years ago heralding the start of Gondwana breakup. Remnants of these once extensive lavas now form the Lesotho highlands and Lebombo mountains.

At every twist and turn in the road the water erosion, both ancient and modern, is evident and the never ending roadworks on the South African side attest to the weather extremes the area experiences. In contrast, the Lesotho side of the boarder has a state of the art tarred road with expertly designed water runoffs into the deep river valley

Sheep, goats, Basotho ponies and the odd group of cattle climb the steep mountain sides with ease and their blanket wrapped herders stride effortlessly in their white gumboots with red soles.  Low stone houses dot the mountains and are so well camoflaged that only the geometric sheep pens give their positions away.  A wizened and weather ravaged man approaced our vehicle with such delight evident on his face as he babbled endlessly trying to convey his willingness to adopt our dog.  She took one look at him and moved to the other side of the car gazing off in the opposite direction with disdain

a short YouTube clip of our adventure can be found here – https://youtu.be/_6Eq_4yBYsM

The Ouhout trees (Leucosidea sericea) line the road on the way out and their distinctive bark glows in the afternoon sun.

I have a poncho; with a hood – journey with me

The moon is high and full
Light turning my world to grey scale
The dam calls me to thrill with her delight
As she bathes quietly
Renewing her timeless beauty

Floating on the pontoon I feed my soul
Trees reflect their perfection
Reed frogs call
Cattle low
Wool lined boots and crisp night air
A warm bed waits

A few days ago Clive was shown a beautiful waterfall that was tucked away on private property. The farmer kindly leaves his gate open for people “in the know” to duck in and admire the falls. We had a leisurely start to the day and headed out mid morning for a trip to the falls and a quick visit to Indezi Creamery for some cheese, milk and pickles.

The falls were best viewed while balancing precariously on rocks in mid stream but it was well worth the effort.

We felt like millionaires eating our roadside picnic balanced on a rock. Pate, cheese, pickles and ginger conserve. Amazing how the fresh air adds its own spice.

The balance of the day was spent exploring the Karkloof area. We watched in awe as heavy machinery cut, stripped and moved pine trees grown in the Sappi plantations. The trees are used in making innovative paper and packaging as well as cellulose used in clothing, household and pharmaceutical products. Although the loss of indigenous forests is heartbreaking at least it has been replaced with trees which can still contribute to the planets green lungs.

We stood on top of our Bushtech Canopy to admire a John Deer combine harvester making short work of the dry mealie fields. With one pass the machine cut the stalks, separated the mealies from the chaff and collected the golden kernels into a hopper – amazing to take the time to watch a process we have passed by so many times in our lives.

On the winding trip home we visited the Karkloof falls. Resolving to visit again to enjoy the 15km hike through the gorge and surrounding plantations.

A weekend of note in our lives: Emptying our storage in Johannesburg in the middle of breath stopping xenophobic violence and being amazed by how much worse things are in your head than in reality.

We imagined ourselves (and our trailer packed with a piano, treadmill, rocking chair and all our photographs, scrapbooks and memorabilia) a sitting target for protesters burning rubbish in the middle of London Road in Alexandra. While we packed we could hear police sirens and women shouting out loud in anger. Smoke billowed into the air and cars approaching this quick link to Sandton were turned around. While we were packing the car and trailer we debated the various routes out of the area and spoke to passing locals for information.

Our choices were clear – leave the trailer in storage overnight and make our way out in the car, which was much more maneuverable than the double axel trailer, or take the plunge and just leave. The thought of loosing a precious day with our grandsons won out and we hitched the trailer and left. A HUGE anticlimax as we drove through quiet back roads and got to the highway without incident. With sighs of relief and huge smiles we started the 6 hr road trip from Johannesburg to Hoedspruit.

Within two hours our skies had closed in and the rain came down in buckets. We battled intermittent storms all the way to Hoedspruit and arrived wrung out with dread that all our things had been destroyed by the torrential rain. We parked the trailer in a borrowed garage and left it to its own devices uninspected. It is what it is.  How special it is to hear your grandson say ‘Gogo, I love you so much. Thank you for coming’. All was right with the world again.

Fast forward; a wonderful weekend of love and laughter. A few scattered showers but mostly hot sunshiny weather. How quickly time flies. Soon the road beckoned and we were on our way home. Intermittent showers and blue skies formed a patchwork of tumbling rivers and fields groaning under bumper crops. So good to see after the ‘seven years of famine’ we have endured.

As we approached the reserve we noticed a storm cloud in the distance and discussed the likelihood of a storm waiting for us at Ngata.

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A moment of dread. A dog that refused to leave the car. Rebuilding and putting to right took 90 minutes with much love and laughter – we are home!

 

One of the things Hutch and I have been missing are our daily walks around the river. Short ones to the bottom of the garden or long ones to the quarry 3km’s away and back. I have been setting aside Wednesday mornings to drive out of the reserve to find side roads that allow her to run a little.

This morning I was drawn back to the quarry and resolved to do the 3km walk in reverse. I knew one of the reasons was to take the opportunity to look the farm over. To revisit the dam and river that had meant so much to us both. Amazing how you can justify anything to the voice in your head!

We took a long slow drive along the game viewing roads enjoying the sight of the summer babies, impala, wildebeest, giraffe and lots of fluffy zebra.

On the drive to the quarry it was clear that no one had driven these private roads in a long time. Our family know the farm well and we have all spent many happy hours on Kaallaagte thanks to the generosity of its owners. The recent heavy rains had gouged out the twin dirt tracks and the river was still swollen with flood waters.

Hatchiko and I set off through grass taller than my head and made our way swiftly to the river to increase the sightability around us. Always a good thing to do in a reserve that contains dangerous game! Once we got to the river she immediately headed into the water lying down to submerge herself fully and drinking deeply as if to reassure herself that she was indeed in ‘her’ river. We wondered uphill to clamber over the rocky cliff as the flood waters had covered many of our old paths with thick muddy water. As soon as we were near the old river walk we went down through a short stretch of grassland towards the riverine vegetation and the trees that are familiar friends.

While we were still in the grasslands Hatchiko started wining and lay down on her side. Always fearful of snake bites I gave her a once over finding nothing. I tried to give her water to drink but she refused. She was unsettled and appeared to just be generally unhappy. After sitting with her for a while I coaxed her up and we continued down towards the river.

Just ahead I noticed the grass had been flattened and deep gouges in the earth showed where a large animal had been that way not long before us. Hatchiko’s ears were down and she showed clear signs of wanting to return the way we had come. Not pulling but just quietly insistent.

I was so close to my favorite walk along the river bank that I was reluctant to turn around. While I was hesitating a deep blowing sound came from the underbrush ahead. Slowly I accepted the many messages posted for me – turn around and leave. You can’t go back.

 

It’s been four weeks since we parked the van at Ngata and what a wonderful time it has been. The park is newly established and will soon have trees to offer some shade at the 7 stands. Each stand has its own electrical and water point, a private braai and a grassed area covered by a Moroccan style shade net inviting you to while away the hot summer days. There is also a plunge pool surrounded by a lawn for cooling off and relaxing. The park is secured by an unobtrusive electric fence and only residents are given the code to the gate. The on site Spa and Restaurant offer decadent diversions and visiting family were well accommodated in the Safari tents adjacent to the park.

The month has included putting up the full tent for the first time (including putting the patio section on upside down in 40C heat!). Then the rain arrived (along with our grandsons – 6 and 4 years old) and we were flooded before earthworks could be built to divert the water. A tent pole broke with the weight of the water on a badly erected section of the tent. Then the tap fittings inside the van burst loose and the inside of the van flooded before burning out the water pump.
But; we have had days that are interwoven with the weather, the phases of the moon, the wind and rain and the perfect starry, starry nights. We are in touch with the environment every day and our dreams have come true!
We have successfully managed to host guests, sort out our belongings, baked bread and cookies, braaied on the new Webber Gas braai, learned some of the van’s secrets and have laughed more than we have for a long time. We are learning to relax into the promise offered by a nomadic lifestyle.

Some sort of clock has struck midnight in our heads and research has begun on finding the next place to experience.

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Over 100mm has fallen in one day! The dams are filling up. The sound of frogs a continuous and changing chorus. Birds of all sizes and colours rejoicing in the abundant food stores that have grown quickly out of the parched earth. A miraculous change that make the constant wet ground a pleasure to walk on and the numerous puddles bring out the child in us all.

Every place that can hang something is festooned with damp towels, cloths and mats. The mud is slowly working its way through the ground sheet and the flood of water through the camp site has been diverted with earthen groundworks.

Our decision to spend a few months close to familiar shops and assistance was reinforced by an enlightening visit from our son in law who was able to discuss ropes, pegs and other nuances of camping that helped to still the noise of the tent flapping in the wind and prevent water from collecting in the roof – a constant threat to the unwary.

A quiet evening of games followed by chicken pies made from left over Christmas dinner completed a perfect evening in our magic wonderland.

Clive brushed his teeth in the bathroom basin and all went to hell in a handbasket!!

65l of water pumped out of the kitchen tap pipe which had come loose, into the caravan and through the electrical box cupboard. Fed by the water pump that could not be disconnected, the constant flow was impressive. I managed to divert a small portion with strategically placed plastic lids while Clive scrabbled to turn off every possible switch; finally tripping the main breaker and removing all the fuses to stop the pump! When we finally stopped the noise the water was long since emptied out of the tank and we wonder about long term damage to the pump and van floor, not to mention the possible complications of an airlock when we do refill.

The kitchen tap housing was beautifully enclosed in a casing and cupboard that, although very aesthetically pleasing, prevented any practical accessing of the fittings that brought water to the tap.

65l is a lot of water…