24/03/2024
Wild coast to Sani pass.
For any newcomers to these posts let me bring you up to speed with what we are doing here. We are hot on the heels of a group of 6 guests led by guide supremo Darrin on a 17-day Odyssey, travelling through southern Africa much of it parallel to our vast and rugged coastline. From Cape Town in the west to the mighty Kruger National Park in the east and as much as possible in-between these two points.
As I collect pictures from various sources, I must say that I am absolutely amazed and taken aback by the sheer expanse of this country and the stunning beauty that is found around each and every corner, so much so that I use some poetic license here and there to better illustrate what this amazing country of ours has to offer not only to us South Africans but to the world out there. I have selected a few photographs from tours gone by as well as those that I receive with the kindness of Thomas and his trusty warriors and from Darrin with his equally trusty mobile phone.
So, on the last post we covered the journey from the Mountain retreat of Hogsback in the Amatole Mountain range, “the mountains of young bulls”, in the isiXhosa language, referring to cattle, to the picturesque beauty of the Wild Coast.
Once again leaving the coast, the group heads back inland through thriving, bustling towns like Mthatha, a town I liken to an overpopulated town in the wild west, here there is just no law and order that our Euro-centric eye can discern, cars and trucks are parked three abreast from the side walk into the middle of the roads, here, your emergency lights rule the roost, switch them on and do just exactly what you want, no one can touch you. Bang! stop right here in the middle of the road, no worries my hazards are on. Take off, do a U-turn 180 degrees across the road Bang! no worries my emergency lights are on. You get the idea. It’s a crazy hustle and bustle. Women in brightly coloured dresses, babies strapped tightly to their backs, in the traditional way, cross the road with impossibly large loads delicately balanced on their doek swathed heads. An older man, a shop keeper chasing a scrawny dog, straight into the busy road but away from his shop entrance where he sells airtime and synthetic hair braids.
Here it is best to keep your windows tightly closed and your doors locked, aircon at full volume because it gets warm here, aim your vehicle at a gap, any gap you can find between the traffic and hit the accelerator, hooting if need be. Get whatever it is you need and get out of there it will drive you crazy.
These towns replicate themselves along the way, most of them a lot smaller if more intense. Millions upon millions of rands are traded in these bustling hubs of humanity daily. It doesn’t matter on which day it is except possibly a Sunday it is always the same, the local folks come from miles around, some in beat up old bakkies, for those of you unfamiliar with the South African terminology, Pick-ups. Some piled high with people in the open load compartment or squashed down under the cover of the fibre glass canopies, all needing a lift to town from the surrounding areas, other arrive with the load bed full of livestock for the market.
Leaving the largest centre in what was previously the Transkei, we head north on the N2 a really busy road with a reputation for bad drivers, but it is not only the drivers that one needs to be aware of it is the possibility of coming across a herd of sanguine cattle crossing the road, dogs, geese and donkeys take the concept of dodgem cars to a new level. School children, all immaculately dressed in their school uniforms, wonder down the road in groups of two, three or more, talking and laughing, oblivious to the dangers they pose to themselves and to the road users trying to avoid their carefree school yard antics.
The N2 passes many place names that reflect the colonial powers of the past, Mount Frere, named after the British High Commissioner for Southern Africa during a rather unpleasant period in South African history and Mount Ayliff after John Ayliff a founder of a mission station and staunch colonial supporter during an equally unpleasant period in our checkered history, are two towns with a story to tell. Here too, we find some beautifully named rivers such as the Tsitsa river upon which the spectacular Tsitsa waterfall is found. This river travels through a series of rapids, gorges and horseshoe bends before joining with the Mzimvubu river that finally empties into the Indian Ocean at Port St Johns on the Wild Coast.
Today we’re heading for a way stop, a place to spend the night, to break the journey from the Wild coast to our destination in the foothills of the mighty Drakensberg.
Our travelers stop at a small guesthouse on the outskirts of Kokstad which Darrin describes as place where travelling salespersons and reps would spend a night on the road. Clean, neat and functional.
Kokstad itself is a lot more interesting. The area is known as Griqualand East, and it is here where Adam Kok III settled after being forced to leave Philippolis in the southern Free State where he was educated. Adam Kok III led his followers across the Drakensberg Mountain range where legend has it that he blasted a passage through the mountains with dynamite for his wagons to pass through, then settled at what is now called Kokstad between the mountains and the Indian ocean.
This migratory habit seems to be imbedded in the Kok genes as Adam Kok II, his father had earlier led his people to safety away from the Boers when in Griquatown to Philippolis for safety.
The next day, up bright and early after a good night’s rest. Darrin and his group set out for Underberg in the shadows of the mighty Drakensberg and their overnight guesthouse on a beautiful working farm where they dropped the trailer off before tackling one of the steepest and highest passes in Southern Africa, the Sani pass. Soon they were heading out to tackle the pass in the 4x4 Toyota Land Cruiser. Passing through border formalities at the two border controls needed to pass through A, the South African border and B, the Lesotho border controls before arriving at the highest pub in Africa at the top of the heart stopping Sani Pass.
Here the group were able to wet their throats with a cold beer and a fine glass of wine before a great lunch was taken in this iconic pub and restaurant with views out over the highest mountain range in Africa bar for a few peaks in the Atlas Mountains in Morocco and the isolated volcanic peaks of Mount Kilimanjaro and Mount Kenya in East Africa. The views are just spectacular.
Up at this height, 2874 meters above sea level, it is a harsh Alpine setting with a climate to match. Here, the people are tough and resilient, the sheep are tough and resilient and the guard dogs large and intimidating. Everyone seems to be wrapped in a traditional Lesotho blanket but a closer look at the shepherds out tending their flocks reveal just how tough these mountain folks are. The shepherd boys for that’s what they are, young boys, wear a flimsy mostly threadbare long-sleeved t-shirts and short pants under their blankets, their feet, without socks are stuffed into plastic gumboots or Wellingtons if you come from across the pond. Lesotho is cold, even in mid-summer Lesotho is cold. The country, confined by its borders is entirely surrounded by South Africa and is the highest country in the world!
It is a spectacularly picturesque country that we see around us, where everything is big, the wide, deep blue skies are huge, the mountains so close, are colossal, the valleys deep and steep.
After descending back down this incredible feat of engineering. First pioneered by Godfrey Edmonds on the 26th of October 1948 an ex-royal Air Force Spitfire Pilot and the first person to drive the pass in a vehicle, a Land Rover 4 x 4. (They don’t make them like that anymore) the team head for the comfort of base camp where it was time to freshen up and take a good meal at their inhouse restaurant before a settling down for a good night’s rest…...
