South Africa - Drakensberg mountains

Becs (and Sarah) doing what she's best at....
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We came into Johannesburg through a cloud of pollution. The airport was modern, crowded and sprawling. In truth we were a little apprehensive given the guide books’ constant warnings about crime and violence and the need to be constantly vigilant. However the airport seemed no different than any other. We again headed for Avis: to find ourselves upgraded to a VW Sharon. Seven seats, oodles of space for the luggage. We were overjoyed, and Bebs didn't say 'gas guzzler' once.

The road out of Jo'burg took us onto the motorways. These were crowded, occasionally five lanes wide, and heavy with pollution and we were delighted when after fifteen minutes we were again in the countryside. Another main road, straight as a die and sparsely used. The Drakensberg Mountains were some two hundred miles to the south. We were heading for one particular spot: ‘the ‘Amphitheatre’ in the Royal Natal National Park.

Von Pins in the mountains

A stunning view of the Drakensberg range from our chalet.
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The Drakensbergs run for hundreds of miles and form the boundary between South Africa and Lesotho. The Royal Natal National Park contains some of their most spectacular peaks, over three thousand metres high, and I knew from the guidebooks that we were heading into an awesome sight and spectacular sunset. It seemed however, as we approached our destination, that we were heading for Mordor.

As we turned towards the mountains the sky darkened, the air became oppressive and visibility dramatically dropped. The Oliviershoeek Pass which was to provide a vantage point to the mountain ranges ahead was swathed in mist. And as we drove over it the darkness fell on us. Not the darkness of dusk but the darkness of a ferocious storm. The eeriness of the darkness was lit not only by lightning bolts but flames, as the local children set light to the grass verges in anticipation of the rain. We entered our lodge site in a torrential downpour. We had seen nothing and arrived simply by reading our directions correctly. We had no idea if the reality of the scenery was as promised.

The rear end of a Tony and Debra
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The chalet was thatched in the traditional manner and well furnished. We were however hungry and immediately headed out to the nearest food stop – the wonderfully named ‘Pizza Tower' which we read was only open for another forty minutes. We lost our way and with twenty minutes to spare found sustenance. As the waiter hovered at our shoulder waiting to close up we ‘enjoyed’ some great Italian cooking. At 8.30 precisely the pizza cook left his stone tower where he cooked. It was home to bed to see what the day would bring.

Sue and Sarah after a few too many
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I must admit that it was with some trepidation that I arose the following day. The sun was shining behind the curtains but the scenery was unknown. Would it be as promised? On drawing back the curtains to our bedroom we found that the scene was as promised – and more. Our chalet looked down a wide, brown, river valley to the escarpment some six or seven miles away. It cut across the landscape in the distance. A great wall of rock, in amphitheatre shape, twelve kilometres long and flecked with snow. The clouds still lingered on the summit and we only got tantalising glimpse of the heights throughout that day.

Frank chewing the fat with Mary and Duncan
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We headed into the Natal National Park to have the first of our walks. The air was fresh, the path tortuous as we headed to a waterfall and a view point. We learnt from some Dutch walkers that it was possible to reach the top of the 'citadel’ – one of the highest points- by a steel ladder. However not from the Park. The three hours of the walk removed the last vestiges of the previous day’s travel. As we drove out of the park we decided to stop and look at some San rock-art. Chris waited in the car as the rest of us found the guide waiting at the side of the road.

Our guide went by the name of Matiba. He was from the local tribe. He was articulate, knowledgeable and wishing to impress. The art work was some five hundred yards from the entrance but with Matiba we took ninety minutes as he explained the use of every tree, his educational training and ‘village' and explained his thoughts on life. The art work was astounding. Colour paintings and drawings of animals on the rock made some thousands of years before. It was not protected until recently and much had been defaced. We drove Matiba to his home, which was in a rural village. It was refreshing to see this side of life in South Africa and although life here is undoubtedly as tough here as in the city townships it is somehow easier to deal with poverty when it's not side by side with great riches.

The next day we decided to do the ‘gorge walk’ which was, according to the books, about a 21 kilometre round trip and would take us to the base of the amphitheatre. We headed again to the Royal Natal National Park. This time however we stopped to view a large family of feeding baboons. The tranquil scene was spoilt as the dominant male decided to exert his rights and chased the families out of the tree under which we were parked. Bebs, who had been observing the scene with her head our of the car window, was joined by one family of worried mothers and children. Seeing her and the car below they dropped, just missing Bebs' enquiring face and using the car as some sort of ‘soft landing’. Bebs frantically shouted "windows up, windows up" in panic as the local rangers arrived to chase them off with paint guns and we headed for the beginning of the walk.

The walk itself was long, if not demanding. Its highlights were the constant panoramic views we had of the ‘amphitheatre’ as we neared it. The gorge itself was disappointing. We had ascended to it via a steel ladder and crampons and wire rope anchored to trees but in reality it was a demonstration of the old adage that it is sometimes better to travel than arrive! The sight of the amphitheatre however would linger in our minds. In all we walked fifteen miles. We had a bet on the time we would arrive back. Sue was about to win the bet when after travelling over fourteen miles without mishap she twisted her ankle a hundred yards from the car park. But it had been an amazing day.

Before we ate, on this our last evening, we headed back on our route which took us into the Drakenbergs. We travelled back over the Oliviershooek Pass to observe the mountains turned pink by the setting sun. It would have been an amazing arrival. There was the final visit to the Pizza Tower and then we packed for our last long journey. The trip to Lyndeburg and our visit to the Kruger National Park. Another aspect of South Africa’s diverse scenery.