Orange river canoeing and Namaqualand flowers

Cruising on the Orange river

Canoes ready and packed

There’s nothing better than a family road trip.  This with the prospect of a four day canoeing trip down the Orange river made for a mouth watering September school holidays.  Our plan was to drive  a massive rectangle ‘around’ Lesotho and then extending across South Africa to the Orange river and Namibia, back down the west coast in Namaqualand national park and then directly across the Karoo and back via the eastern Cape to Pietermaritzburg. Logistically this trip was a breeze because we had signed up with an outfit called Felix Unité who provide all the canoes, food and even ice to keep the beers cold!  

We set off at dawn driving north and wound our way up the impressive Van Reenin’s Pass leaving the rolling hills of KZN far below and entering into the flatness of the highveld. A sharp turn to the west took us through Bethlehem and on to the capital of the Free State, Bloemfontein where we had decided to visit the Boer War museum.  Being Heritage day we were welcomed there by a genuine Afrikaner market with singing, trinkets for sale and scrumptious “maalvleis en vetkoek” washed down with home made ginger beer. The museum was fascinating and informative and particularly useful for the girls who had studied some of this at school.  The scale of the slaughter and particularly the horror of the concentration camps was sobering.  We continued west to Kimberly                                                                                                 across smooth, Springbok studded plains and arrived  around dusk  and                                                                                                        briefly visited the historical village at the Big Hole. 

Richtersveld magic

Another early start had us heading directly west through an unpopulated landscape sprinkled with the odd antelope or ostrich.  This gave us many hours in the car for idle banter and the odd podcast which added an interesting and entertaining new dimension to our road trips.  We crossed the Vaal river and then saw the intense green of the vineyards which fringe the Orange river.  We skirted Upington and then continued along the Orange to the frontier town of Springbok.  Here we had booked into the amazing Gogas nature reserve and set up camp in a thatched cottage and were soon exploring amazing granite rocks and curious vegetation.  The wildlife was incredible  and the magnificent Gemsbok abounded.  A night excursion for a pee and to ogle at the sugar-sprinkled sky brought me face to face with an Aardwolf which was an animal I’d never seen before.

Canoe see-saw antics on the Orange

A morning drive took us through yellow and purple carpets of flowers, through cragged rocky outcrops and past more of the majestic Gemsbok. The visitor centre had an exceptional indigenous plant garden with extraordinary strange succulents with names like butter tree, button plant and the weird quiver tree. 

Warm rocks, cool water.....

From there our route took us north and after restocking in Springbok we crossed the border over the Orange river at Noordoewer and into the arid lands of southern Namibia.  A short drive took us to the start of our canoe trip at Felix Unité. Provenance is the name of their base camp and is certainly an oasis of green lawns, reed-thatched cabanas and a very blue swimming pool. We set up tents on the luscious lawns and sipped on icy cold beers as steak sizzled on the ‘braai’. Our co-canoeists slowly rolled in and like us were mainly families excited by the prospect of four days cruising down this incredible waterway.  A humorous briefing explained how to pack our buckets and canoes, where to stash the beers and how to use “Lulu” the portable toilet kept us all chuckling and rearing to go.

The Orange river is South Africa’s longest river at 2250km and originates in the Drakensberg mountains and in Lesotho is called the Senqu. The name Orange is not thanks to its sometimes orange colour when in flood but rather named by a Dutchman in honour of Prince William of the Royal Dutch House of Orange!  It is joined by the Caledon and Vaal rivers and is dammed in two places forming the Gariep and Vanderkloof dams. 

Margot and Zara cosy camping

The river was flowing well and the water clean but the weather for the start of our paddle was a wee bit inclement with cloud cover and a gathering wind. Nonetheless we set of with great enthusiasm, boats liberally loaded and Zara skippering our canoe and Ilda and Margot in the other. The paddling is easy and relaxing and we drift down gentle rolling rapids beneath fascinating rock formations with names like Echo Krantzes and Snail Mountain.  We stop for an early lunch and the crew prepare a scrumptious selection while we go for a short walk to see San rock petroglyphs. By now the wind has picked up and our expedition leader announces that this “Peace of Paradise Camp” will now become the overnight stop and we set about erecting tents and then wile away the afternoon reading, playing ‘Boulle’ and, some, catching fish.  The evening is a tranquil affair with great conversations, good tucker and an unforgettable display of stars. We sleep very well and are soon fed, packed up and on or way again. 

Again, the pace is mellow, the sun warm and some of our fellow paddlers are cracking their first beers soon after breakfast! We encounter a couple of fun rapids with names like “Dead Man” rapid and “Entrance exam” which everyone gets down ok albeit some folk backwards.  Zara seems to go on strike fairly early in the piece and seems quite happy to let Dad do the paddling while she ‘chills’ and occasionally jumps overboard for a paddle. The day drifts by and lunch is served next to a long rolling rapid where we have great fun and good luck catching feisty Yellow fish.  Some walk to an abandoned mine while others sip beer or sleep.  That evening we camp above the Sjambok kloof with stories of the big rapid coming up tomorrow!  We visit the old fluorite mine and gather many samples and have great fun that night sprinkling these on the fire and experiencing our very own fire works display.  

Happy families after four days on the Orange

Sjambok rapid is the trip’s canoeing highlight and is a long bouncy rapid with a lovely drop and waves at the end running through a narrow granite gully. Again everyone comes through unscathed and we have fun swimming in the strong current, jumping off the rocks and then sunning ourselves like lizards on the steaming granite. Supplies have been restocked at the last camp and with more ice to keep beers cool and even better grub we cruise into the “Scratches” campsite where apparently dinosaurs sharpened their claws causing great rifts in the quartzite towers. Again, this is perfection with sandy areas to pitch the tents, swimming on tap and cold beer on ice!  We are about 23 guests on the trip with four guides and are well looked after. We explore inland a bit and are enthralled by the rugged beauty of the 2000 million year old Richtersveld mountains. The dozen or so children are a law unto themselves and their laughter and antics vibrate around the campsite.  The final camp dinner is an extravagant affair and we feast on roast mutton and the mood is buoyant around the crackling camp fire. Again the stars are extravagant beyond belief and we slowly drift off to our tents and fall into a deep decadent sleep.

The morning routine is becoming well rehearsed and we reflect that this will be the last morning of this magical family adventure. Lulu is in demand after the excesses of last night and we swim, feast on a fine cooked breakfast and pack our buckets for the last time.  We slip off into the current and briefly Zara makes an effort at paddling before retreating under her sun umbrella to ‘chill’ once more.  The bird life has been spectacular and we have seen many animals including vervet monkeys, baboons and the scary looking but benign Leguaan or Nile monitor. A few more slightly rocky rapids, more swims, canoe “see-saw” and children swapping boats sees the time disappear and before we know it we are beaching at Assenkeur farm and the end of our adventure. Boats, bags, buckets and people are loaded efficiently onto the ‘bus’ which must be from 1800 and something but has been beautifully restored and chugs us back to base and another cold beer,  a final feed and fond farewells.

Namaqualand flowers

We begin the big trek home but, as always, are reluctant to take the same route back and so head south down the west coast with a plan to complete a big loop around and below Lesotho and across the Karoo.  First stop is Namaqua national park, famous for its carpets of colourful flowers.  It is late in the season but we are not disappointed.  Rich tapestries of golden yellow daisies and a multitude of other vivid flowers dazzle us and occasionally we see the majestic Gemsbok grazing in this colourful paradise.  We drive on to the west coast and the blue Atlantic ocean where we stop to picnic and dip our toes into the icy water where mermaid like Kelp oscillates amongst mussel clad rocks. 

Margot races towards the chilly Atlantic

At Calvinia we turn east and begin the long traverse of this incredible country back to KZN.  The scenery is dramatic; vast arid plains punctuated with the occasional strutting ostrich and austere rock formations.  it is dry and sparse and we stop at a creaking windmill pulling crystal clear water up into a concrete reservoir.  The girls don’t hesitate and are soon stripped and splashing in the icy water.  Refreshed we drive on and our next stop is the Rooi Granaat in Loxton, an authentic local café where we sipped on proper smooth cappuccinos and breakfasted on fluffy omelettes filled with home made goats’ milk cheese. The local NGK church fills the central village square and the bells chime calling the faithful to prayer.  

Swimming in an icy windmill reservoir in the Karoo

We overnight in a remote Karoo town and are up early and watch the golden tendrils of the rising sun as we speed along passing towns like Middelberg, Molteno and Elliot.  The remote pristine northern Cape morphs into the more populous and littered eastern Cape and we are reminded of the so called “homelands” of the bad old days when this was the Transkei and it doesn’t seem to have recovered. Our last night is at a fantastic farmstay near Maclear.  We are spoiled with a home cooked meal and a crackling fire as rain continues to pour down.

Our last morning takes us back into KZN at Underberg and we stop as always at The Lemon Tree café for a scrumptious breakfast.  Then its on down into the Umkomaas valley and we wind our way home to Hilton and delighted dog,cat and chicken.

3800km later, Orange river canoeing, Namibia, flowers in Namaqualand, Gemsbok, Boer war museum in Bloem, breakfast the Rooi Granaat, swimming at a Karoo windmill, fascinating podcasts, laughs, photos and fun.  Exploring Africa forever fun!

Orange river canoeing and Namaqualand flowers

Cruising on the Orange river

Canoes ready and packed

There’s nothing better than a family road trip.  This with the prospect of a four day canoeing trip down the Orange river made for a mouth watering September school holidays.  Our plan was to drive  a massive rectangle ‘around’ Lesotho and then extending across South Africa to the Orange river and Namibia, back down the west coast in Namaqualand national park and then directly across the Karoo and back via the eastern Cape to Pietermaritzburg. Logistically this trip was a breeze because we had signed up with an outfit called Felix Unité who provide all the canoes, food and even ice to keep the beers cold!  

We set off at dawn driving north and wound our way up the impressive Van Reenin’s Pass leaving the rolling hills of KZN far below and entering into the flatness of the highveld. A sharp turn to the west took us through Bethlehem and on to the capital of the Free State, Bloemfontein where we had decided to visit the Boer War museum.  Being Heritage day we were welcomed there by a genuine Afrikaner market with singing, trinkets for sale and scrumptious “maalvleis en vetkoek” washed down with home made ginger beer. The museum was fascinating and informative and particularly useful for the girls who had studied some of this at school.  The scale of the slaughter and particularly the horror of the concentration camps was sobering.  We continued west to Kimberly                                                                                                 across smooth, Springbok studded plains and arrived  around dusk  and                                                                                                        briefly visited the historical village at the Big Hole. 

Richtersveld magic

Another early start had us heading directly west through an unpopulated landscape sprinkled with the odd antelope or ostrich.  This gave us many hours in the car for idle banter and the odd podcast which added an interesting and entertaining new dimension to our road trips.  We crossed the Vaal river and then saw the intense green of the vineyards which fringe the Orange river.  We skirted Upington and then continued along the Orange to the frontier town of Springbok.  Here we had booked into the amazing Gogas nature reserve and set up camp in a thatched cottage and were soon exploring amazing granite rocks and curious vegetation.  The wildlife was incredible  and the magnificent Gemsbok abounded.  A night excursion for a pee and to ogle at the sugar-sprinkled sky brought me face to face with an Aardwolf which was an animal I’d never seen before.

Canoe see-saw antics on the Orange

A morning drive took us through yellow and purple carpets of flowers, through cragged rocky outcrops and past more of the majestic Gemsbok. The visitor centre had an exceptional indigenous plant garden with extraordinary strange succulents with names like butter tree, button plant and the weird quiver tree. 

Warm rocks, cool water.....

From there our route took us north and after restocking in Springbok we crossed the border over the Orange river at Noordoewer and into the arid lands of southern Namibia.  A short drive took us to the start of our canoe trip at Felix Unité. Provenance is the name of their base camp and is certainly an oasis of green lawns, reed-thatched cabanas and a very blue swimming pool. We set up tents on the luscious lawns and sipped on icy cold beers as steak sizzled on the ‘braai’. Our co-canoeists slowly rolled in and like us were mainly families excited by the prospect of four days cruising down this incredible waterway.  A humorous briefing explained how to pack our buckets and canoes, where to stash the beers and how to use “Lulu” the portable toilet kept us all chuckling and rearing to go.

The Orange river is South Africa’s longest river at 2250km and originates in the Drakensberg mountains and in Lesotho is called the Senqu. The name Orange is not thanks to its sometimes orange colour when in flood but rather named by a Dutchman in honour of Prince William of the Royal Dutch House of Orange!  It is joined by the Caledon and Vaal rivers and is dammed in two places forming the Gariep and Vanderkloof dams. 

Margot and Zara cosy camping

The river was flowing well and the water clean but the weather for the start of our paddle was a wee bit inclement with cloud cover and a gathering wind. Nonetheless we set of with great enthusiasm, boats liberally loaded and Zara skippering our canoe and Ilda and Margot in the other. The paddling is easy and relaxing and we drift down gentle rolling rapids beneath fascinating rock formations with names like Echo Krantzes and Snail Mountain.  We stop for an early lunch and the crew prepare a scrumptious selection while we go for a short walk to see San rock petroglyphs. By now the wind has picked up and our expedition leader announces that this “Peace of Paradise Camp” will now become the overnight stop and we set about erecting tents and then wile away the afternoon reading, playing ‘Boulle’ and, some, catching fish.  The evening is a tranquil affair with great conversations, good tucker and an unforgettable display of stars. We sleep very well and are soon fed, packed up and on or way again. 

Again, the pace is mellow, the sun warm and some of our fellow paddlers are cracking their first beers soon after breakfast! We encounter a couple of fun rapids with names like “Dead Man” rapid and “Entrance exam” which everyone gets down ok albeit some folk backwards.  Zara seems to go on strike fairly early in the piece and seems quite happy to let Dad do the paddling while she ‘chills’ and occasionally jumps overboard for a paddle. The day drifts by and lunch is served next to a long rolling rapid where we have great fun and good luck catching feisty Yellow fish.  Some walk to an abandoned mine while others sip beer or sleep.  That evening we camp above the Sjambok kloof with stories of the big rapid coming up tomorrow!  We visit the old fluorite mine and gather many samples and have great fun that night sprinkling these on the fire and experiencing our very own fire works display.  

Happy families after four days on the Orange

Sjambok rapid is the trip’s canoeing highlight and is a long bouncy rapid with a lovely drop and waves at the end running through a narrow granite gully. Again everyone comes through unscathed and we have fun swimming in the strong current, jumping off the rocks and then sunning ourselves like lizards on the steaming granite. Supplies have been restocked at the last camp and with more ice to keep beers cool and even better grub we cruise into the “Scratches” campsite where apparently dinosaurs sharpened their claws causing great rifts in the quartzite towers. Again, this is perfection with sandy areas to pitch the tents, swimming on tap and cold beer on ice!  We are about 23 guests on the trip with four guides and are well looked after. We explore inland a bit and are enthralled by the rugged beauty of the 2000 million year old Richtersveld mountains. The dozen or so children are a law unto themselves and their laughter and antics vibrate around the campsite.  The final camp dinner is an extravagant affair and we feast on roast mutton and the mood is buoyant around the crackling camp fire. Again the stars are extravagant beyond belief and we slowly drift off to our tents and fall into a deep decadent sleep.

The morning routine is becoming well rehearsed and we reflect that this will be the last morning of this magical family adventure. Lulu is in demand after the excesses of last night and we swim, feast on a fine cooked breakfast and pack our buckets for the last time.  We slip off into the current and briefly Zara makes an effort at paddling before retreating under her sun umbrella to ‘chill’ once more.  The bird life has been spectacular and we have seen many animals including vervet monkeys, baboons and the scary looking but benign Leguaan or Nile monitor. A few more slightly rocky rapids, more swims, canoe “see-saw” and children swapping boats sees the time disappear and before we know it we are beaching at Assenkeur farm and the end of our adventure. Boats, bags, buckets and people are loaded efficiently onto the ‘bus’ which must be from 1800 and something but has been beautifully restored and chugs us back to base and another cold beer,  a final feed and fond farewells.

Namaqualand flowers

We begin the big trek home but, as always, are reluctant to take the same route back and so head south down the west coast with a plan to complete a big loop around and below Lesotho and across the Karoo.  First stop is Namaqua national park, famous for its carpets of colourful flowers.  It is late in the season but we are not disappointed.  Rich tapestries of golden yellow daisies and a multitude of other vivid flowers dazzle us and occasionally we see the majestic Gemsbok grazing in this colourful paradise.  We drive on to the west coast and the blue Atlantic ocean where we stop to picnic and dip our toes into the icy water where mermaid like Kelp oscillates amongst mussel clad rocks. 

Margot races towards the chilly Atlantic

At Calvinia we turn east and begin the long traverse of this incredible country back to KZN.  The scenery is dramatic; vast arid plains punctuated with the occasional strutting ostrich and austere rock formations.  it is dry and sparse and we stop at a creaking windmill pulling crystal clear water up into a concrete reservoir.  The girls don’t hesitate and are soon stripped and splashing in the icy water.  Refreshed we drive on and our next stop is the Rooi Granaat in Loxton, an authentic local café where we sipped on proper smooth cappuccinos and breakfasted on fluffy omelettes filled with home made goats’ milk cheese. The local NGK church fills the central village square and the bells chime calling the faithful to prayer.  

Swimming in an icy windmill reservoir in the Karoo

We overnight in a remote Karoo town and are up early and watch the golden tendrils of the rising sun as we speed along passing towns like Middelberg, Molteno and Elliot.  The remote pristine northern Cape morphs into the more populous and littered eastern Cape and we are reminded of the so called “homelands” of the bad old days when this was the Transkei and it doesn’t seem to have recovered. Our last night is at a fantastic farmstay near Maclear.  We are spoiled with a home cooked meal and a crackling fire as rain continues to pour down.

Our last morning takes us back into KZN at Underberg and we stop as always at The Lemon Tree café for a scrumptious breakfast.  Then its on down into the Umkomaas valley and we wind our way home to Hilton and delighted dog,cat and chicken.

3800km later, Orange river canoeing, Namibia, flowers in Namaqualand, Gemsbok, Boer war museum in Bloem, breakfast the Rooi Granaat, swimming at a Karoo windmill, fascinating podcasts, laughs, photos and fun.  Exploring Africa forever fun!

Dagga, Didima and Drakensberg

 There is nothing quite like a trip to the Berg.  Pristine, uncorrupted wilderness, fast flowing, crystal clear streams, backpacks and biltong and, if you’re lucky, elegant eland traipsing by. It was with these perfect perceptions that we recently headed for the hills. Little did we know what was in store for us. My teenage daughters had required a little encouraging but my enthusiasm and school-boy memories of “kloofing” in Ndedema gorge and favourable forecast, soon had them turning off their i-Phones and donning boots. Dog packed off to the neighbours and alarm set, we set off up the N2 headed for the Cathedral Peak area. Our plan was to drive up Mike’s Pass, leave the car at the top and walk from there to Didima (old Ndedema) gorge. We’d camp near Skoongesigt cave and spend two days exploring the gorge and then walk out back to the car.  

But as with most things in Africa, this was not to be and one needs to remain flexible.  On checking in at the plush Didima resort we discover that Mike’s Pass is apparently closed to vehicles because the road is too bad (although fresh tracks we see on the road later betray this and we wander if this is simply a ploy to get paying guests up the pass). Then, when signing the mountain register, a fellow hiker shows surprise when we share our planned route; “oh. i thought Didima was closed because it is still being used by Dagga smugglers”. We tell her we have no knowledge of this and laugh it off.  We are also reassured by the lipstick smooth Ezemvelo lady who hastily takes our cash and shows no surprise at our planned route.  We note later however, that she looks like she has never walked further than the parking lot and we fear has no idea what lies in the hills beyond.

Anyway, a hasty rearrangement sees me dropping off the girls half way up Mike’s Pass and then returning the car to the checkpoint at the bottom.  I then ran up to join them and we continued on into the Didima Valley.  It is a stunning walk with panoramic views of the Drakensberg from Cathedral to Giants and beyond and we wander along mesmerised by this magical sight as the sun slowly drifts behind the mountains.  Thanks to all the delays, we are now a bit late and walk the last couple of kilometres in the dark with headlamps on. Eventually we realise that we won't make it down to the gorge so stop and set up camp.  At about this stage my wife announces that we have forgotten matches, a lighter or anything to light anything!  Supper is a crunchy affair of Two-minute noodles washed down with water and peanut butter on bread.  Cold, raw Cup-a-soup didn’t work.  We tried everything; smashing rocks together to get a spark, using my reading glasses as a magnifying glass, and even rubbed sticks together Bushman style (where we did get smoke but no fire) and finally tried to strike 2 matches I found, on a rock, but they aren't called ‘safety matches’ for nothing.  Anyway, we became experts on preparing cold everything and amazingly ate pretty well and didn't go hungry! 

The sunrise is beautiful beyond belief and a warm golden glow reflects off the “Barrier of Spears”. We devour cold one-minute porridge and are soon on our way dropping into the gorge below. It is as if there is not another human on earth but us, as we criss-cross the sparkling stream rock-hopping and occasionally stopping to take pictures of extraordinary rock formations and feisty bright coloured flowers. We must have been somewhat distracted as we end up being bluffed-out and have to make a very steep scramble out of the gorge to find the path high above us.  The path is badly eroded and rough and clearly has had no maintenance for many years. We bypass the very overgrown track to Poacher’s cave and continue to the junction of Leopard cave where there is a perfect camping spot next to the main path and a lovely swimming stream. We explore up to Leopard cave and while away the afternoon swimming, reading, enjoying the sun and rubbing sticks together in a futile effort to make fire. Night falls and we cuddle up in thick down sleeping bags and are soothed to sleep by the surging stream.  Little do we realise what the night will bring!

I sit bolt upright in my bag.  It must be about two in the morning and I have been woken by a high pitched shout only metres from our camp on the main path and across the stream. I see that my wife is awake too and we look at each other in horror; dagga smugglers!  Was the cry a threat or a warning?  Did they know that we were there?  How many were they? What were their intentions?Should we ignore them, pretend to sleep? Should we run and leave everything? We whisper to each other and my wife inadvertently illuminates her torch and shines on the rocks around us. That galvanises us into action.  We awake our two daughters, who are incredibly calm, and pack up our entire camp in about five minutes.  Of course it feels like an eternity and when the familiar odour of dagga smoke wafts over us, my fear is palpable. I feel an intense nausea and sweat drips down my face and chest. What if? What if?

We scramble up the track loaded with our packs and head in the direction of Leopard cave away from the main path, and familiar territory for us having been up there earlier in the day. My wife is up ahead with one torch, our daughters between us and me taking up the rear.  In my anxious state I am blown away by the composure and maturity shown by my daughters; not a squeak out of them, no complaints and a dogged determination to move away from this perceived risk that their parents had woken them for at 02.00! We climb steadily for about forty minutes up a steep path and then veer away from the stream up onto a ridge high above the gorge below.  We stop on a small flat area and listen intently for any sounds of pursuit but are reassured by a tranquil silence and decide to sleep there. Exhausted we snuggle up together and lie back on our grassy ledge to experience a star extravaganza like none other. The galaxies and signs of the Zodiac circle above us in a mystical dance and we are soon coaxed into a deep sleep far away from the stress that had besieged us only an hour earlier. An ochre moon crawls up over the round hill in front of us and we dig deeper into our bags to escape the pre dawn chill. 

With dawn comes the realisation of what might have been.  Was it all just an absurd over reaction? Where they just shepherds tending their flocks or were they indeed the dagga smugglers of Didima? We recount somewhat manically the events of the night before and giggle hysterically. Our overnight perch is poised perfectly above the gorge far below and as we feast for the last time on cold porridge an eagle glides silently by scanning the bush along the river in search of her prey.                      

Edendale Hospital Newsletter

Welcome to Edendale Hospital Dr Sandy Inglis! Have a look at the Edendale January newsletter in the link below:
http://www.kznhealth.gov.za/edendale/edendaily29.pdf

Mabibi and beyond.

Zara, bugologist of note.....

Ndumo Game Reserve......beware crocs, hippo, rhino etc!

With the Armstrong family 

Mabibi is a Tongan community nestled in the sandy vegetation between the fresh waters of Lake Sibaya and the rolling breakers of the Indian ocean.  They run what must be one of the most exquisite camps in Africa.  It comprises about a dozen private campsites tucked away in the thick coastal bush and perched on the edge of magnificent dunes and within earshot of crashing surf.  You are awoken at dawn by a sweet symphony of birdsong and golden sunrises provide magical light which filters through and plays on the fabric of your tent.  A short walk along sandy paths and a spiraling wooden staircase, entombed in thick green creepers and sail-like leaves, takes you down to a copper beach, dappled with the meticulous scratchings of ghost crabs and prints of timid antelope that have ventured from the security of the foliage.  Bold blue breakers crash incessantly onto the smooth sand and   further back, near the deep indigo water, dolphins cavort and cajole, careering down sleek, silver waves, cartwheeling and diving, euphoric and manic, in their beauty and liberty.

Camping Africa style at Mabibi.

Elegant Eland crossing pristine mountain
 stream in the Drakensberg

This is where we spent our first Easter holiday back in Africa.  Our routine was simple and repetitive; wake up to the above spectacle; run or walk on the beach basking in the morning light and sunrise; refresh in the warm seawater and risk the thundering shore-break; breakfast back at the camp with piles of fresh fruit; wage war with the vervet monkeys who attempt to steal everything; back to the beach armed with mask and fins; dive in an aquarium with Loggerhead turtle, octopi, electric ray shivering under sand, and gaze in awe at multitudes of fluorescent and colourful fish vying for food and attention; bask on beach; lazy lunch; read and snooze in warm afternoon sun; back to beach armed with kites, bats, balls; swim again in wild waves; shower; supper around fire; idle chatter; sleep....and start again.

That was our holiday!

Then back to reality.  My job is fantastic; no day is without action, drama, frustration, disbelief or joy.  We have had no telephones or internet for the last 2 weeks.  CT images had to be “whatsapped” to referral hospitals in Durban; communication relied on private cell phones and e-mail was non existent.  The telephone lines near the hospital had been stolen for their valuable copper.  Then, just to add to our woes, there were days with no water (so no operating theatre, no x-rays and no blood tests) and, repetitively, no electricity!  But these are woes that are tolerated and accepted without too much fuss and life, and work, continue, somehow adapted to the inconveniences; ok, do without that x-ray or blood test or that operation perhaps.  This week things are infinitely better and everything seems to be working.  There is construction and renovation everywhere and a creaking 50 year old hospital is getting a facelift in preparation for NHI, the new national health service, which promise to provide good health for all and minimise the massive health care inequality between the rich and poor.

Our Emergency Department is going from strength to strength. Morale is great and the team is growing and evolving.  EM is embryonic here but the excitement of a new project and the prospect of providing excellent emergency care is wonderful.  New equipment, new ideas and, next year, a new ED, make for a dynamic and determined department and I feel privileged to be a part of it.

Relaxing at Bannerman's Hut

On top of the Drakensberg in Lesotho, Mabibi Pass, 3000m

Margot and Zara have embraced and integrated into their new world like only children can;  every time we do this I am reminded of the fortitude and resilience of our children.  First it was Oz to NZ; then NZ to France, then back to NZ; then to home schooling in SA, then traveling in Africa, then back to France.....and now the full package of South African private schooling.  They attack it with a vigour and determination that provides ME with motivation for my work; to watch them playing hockey for the first time (and Margot making the 2nd team and Zara the U10 c’s), singing in the school choir at the easter concert; being part of the excitement of the school gala and heading off on school camps is both thrilling and wonderful and leaves us proud beyond belief.  Then Zara getting full marks for her Afrikaans tests (never seen the language before this year!) and saying how much she loves it!  Margot is exempt from Afrikaans having started in SA in grade 7 so is doing a bit of extra Maths and English in preparation for the entrance exams in 2 weeks time.  Ilda is keeping her busy with French sent from France.  This week it is auditions for the school play.

Swimming in a tarn, Drakensberg

Ilda, too, is resilient.  This week she, for the umteenth time, starts the arduous task of piling our belongings into boxes and preparing us for the next move.  We have committed ourselves to rentals for the time being, and this time head up the hill to the village of Hilton, which is conveniently close to the girls’ school and they can walk there in the mornings.  The house is thatched and in dense bush with magnificent views down the valley to Maritzburg.  Our next move will be determined by where the girls end up at school next year.

And so slowly, we bed in into this crazy world of South Africa.  It’s not easy but it is certainly rich, challenging and hugely rewarding.  Every morning, when I drive to work, there are always a number of local Zulu folk thumbing a lift to work; they squash up into my Land Rover, grappling with seat-belts and chattering excitedly and always proffer their grubby five rands.  This, makes me smile!

Electric spider perhaps?

Plastic on the Beach

Plastic on the Beach

For our holidays we went to the beach

To a place so perfect, almost out of reach

Nestled in the bush amongst the dunes

We listened to birds singing their tunes

And monkeys came to have some fun

Looking for nuts, perhaps a bun.

Then the sun came out and we went down to the waves

Onto the beach, then rocks and caves.

Sparkling water, warm and bright

Sliding up the beach so slight.

Golden sand in my hand

Near to paradise in this land.

Then, something that made me sick

All along the beach, scattered plastic.

Combs and slops and ropes and tops,

Drums and tubes and lids and lubes,

Red and white and green and blue,

And other there a broken shoe.

Bits from all around the globe 

Have gathered here on this beach

Carried here out of reach...

But to the turtle they are foe

For down their throat they will go

Causing slow and painful death, 

Squeezing out every last breath.

So the clean must begin in a tic

Lets get rid of ALL Beach plastic.

Sandy Inglis April 2013

Giants Castle. Drakensberg, KZN

Texte a venir...patience!

Spot Baguette!

Oribi Ridge Shelter, Giants Castle, Drakensberg

Le meilleur restaurant du monde!

Levee de soleil sur Giants Castle, Drakensberg

Brochette de chaussures

Les Inglis apres la marche matinale

Levee de soleil sur les Drakensbergs

La mer de nuage sur Natal Midland

Zara Zulu

Roche ocre des Drakensbergs