It was our third time entering South Africa and immigration was as smooth as ever. When we told them of our journey so far, they were amazed and wondered how we had survived the off roading. A white Namibian who was also filling in forms piped up ‘Namibian unsealed roads are a lot better than those in South Africa!’

We headed for Upington. There were carpets of wild yellow flowers by the side of the road and huge Weaver bird nests built on top of or around telegraph poles. Each weaver species has its own trademark architecture and some were over 6 feet long in a cone shape. The fast road took us through a continuation of the orange dusty landscapes of the Kalahari Desert to a busy Upington on a Saturday lunchtime. We went to a packed ‘Pick & Pay’ supermarket and restocked with road- trip food and drink. Footprint said “Despite Upington’s attractive setting on the banks of the Orange River, it is a bland and modern town with searing summer temperatures and little in the way of sights”. In the sweltering heat, we didn’t hang around.

I wanted to show Wendy the Augrabies Falls, where I had stayed for my Kalahari Extreme Marathon in 2009. We drove on a blazing hot afternoon through Keimoes to Kakamas where vineyards full of ripe grapes dominated the landscape. We followed a large truck full of them, and passed a small raisin factory which had grapes drying on the surrounding concrete floors.

When we got to the entrance of the Augrabies Falls National Park we avoided the day pass 100 Rand admission fees because we wanted to get a chalet there. But when we arrived at Reception, they informed us that it was completely full. Everyone had come to see the waterfall which was in full flow with all the recent rain. We had time to have a quick walk down for a view. My previous account said ‘The Augrabies Falls is where the Orange River picks up speed and froths and tumbles into a huge granite gorge. “Roaring out of the barren semi-desert, sending great plumes of spray up above the brown horizon, the falls are the most spectacular moment in the two-thousand kilometre progress of the Orange River” (Rough Guide). The park’s mighty waterfall is still known by its African name of Aukoerabis “the place of great noise”. While quite impressive, it was hardly Niagara Falls’. This time, it really was impressive and the waterfall seemed to be about 10 times bigger than when I had seen it and wasn’t very far beneath the viewing platform. It looked spectacular.

We decided to find alterative accommodation in the village of Augrabies, and went to check out ‘The Fox’s Lair’ which I had found on the internet. It was a vineyard with self contained bungalows. It took a while to guess which was the owner’s house. A couple greeted us and we followed the woman further into the vineyard to another pair of cottages. For 400 Rand (£36), we got a double bedroom, bathroom, lounge and kitchen with a fridge and cooker and it was air conditioned. This was just as well, because the temperature just seemed to go up. Taking advantage of the early finish, we sorted ourselves out – washing, emptying the car and giving it a clean. There was a small plastic swimming pool outside and I sat in it, reading and drinking cold beers. It was nice to take a break. That evening, there was a spectacular sunset – one of the best on the trip – bright yellow and orange. The cottage was the best accommodation we had in South Africa. Recommended.

Sunday January 9th

Taken from my previous South African account - South African Background: “Dutch traders landed at the southern tip of modern day South Africa in 1652 and established a stopover point on the spice route between the Netherlands and the East, founding the city of Cape Town. After the British seized the Cape of Good Hope area in 1806, many of the Dutch settlers (the Boers) trekked north to found their own republics. The discovery of diamonds (1867) and gold (1886) spurred wealth and immigration and intensified the subjugation of the native inhabitants. The Boers resisted British encroachments but were defeated in the Boer War (1899-1902); however, the British and the Afrikaners, as the Boers became known, ruled together under the Union of South Africa. In 1948, the National Party was voted into power and instituted a policy of apartheid - the separate development of the races. The first multi-racial elections in 1994 brought an end to apartheid and ushered in black majority rule under the African National Congress (ANC)” (CIA Website)

It is the 25th largest country in the world, the size of France and Spain combined. It has a vast interior plateau rimmed by rugged hills and narrow coastal plain. It’s natural resources include: gold, chromium, antimony, coal, iron ore, manganese, nickel, phosphates, tin, uranium, gem diamonds, platinum, copper, vanadium, salt, natural gas. The main agricultural products are corn, wheat, sugarcane, fruits, vegetables; beef, poultry, mutton, wool, dairy products (and ostriches). It has a population of 49 million of which 5.7m live with HIV/AIDS (2nd highest in the world). Black Africans 79%, white 9.6%, coloured 8.9%, Indian/Asian 2.5% . Of the population, 23% are unemployed and 50% below poverty line. 14 languages are spoken: Languages: English, Afrikaans, Ndebele, Sepedi, Setswana, Sotho, Swati, Tsonga, Tswana, Tshivenda, Venda, Xhosa, Xitsonga, Zulu.

The CIA says of the Economy: “South Africa is an emerging market with an abundant supply of natural resources; well-developed financial, legal, communications, energy, and transport sectors; a stock exchange that is 17th largest in the world; and modern infrastructure supporting an efficient distribution of goods to major urban centres throughout the region. Growth was robust from 2004 to 2008 as South Africa reaped the benefits of macroeconomic stability and a global commodities boom, but began to slow in the second half of 2008 due to the global financial crisis' impact on commodity prices and demand. However, unemployment remains high and outdated infrastructure has constrained growth. At the end of 2007, South Africa began to experience an electricity crisis because state power supplier Eskom suffered supply problems with aged plants, necessitating "load-shedding" cuts to residents and businesses in the major cities. Daunting economic problems remain from the apartheid era - especially poverty, lack of economic empowerment among the disadvantaged groups, and a shortage of public transportation.”

Well rested, we headed back to Kakamas and to Upington, turning right just outside the city and crossing the muddy Orange River which was in full flood. The N10 took us to Groblershoop where turning left onto the N8 pointed us towards Kimberley. I don’t remember much about the drive except that we saw three ostriches. The land was vivid orange, the landscape undulating and the road pretty empty of traffic.

To reach our accommodation at Gum Lodge Backpackers, we had to drive right through the centre of Kimberley (pop 166,000) and past the Bultfontein and Dutoitspan mines which looked like large flat volcanoes on the horizon. Gum Lodge had originally been a prison and then converted to provide accommodation for mine workers. Now it was a backpackers hostel. The main complex was an attractive square of rooms under green corrugated iron roofs, and surrounded by tall trees to keep the sun at bay. There is a restaurant here, but it was not open on a Sunday. We got a small en suite cabin at the back of the complex and headed off to explore the area on a quiet hot Sunday afternoon.

Kamfers Dam was 5km out of town on the N12, and partially hidden from the road by the raised railway line. This is a natural heritage site (not that you would know it) and an important area for greater and lesser flamingos. It took a while to locate it, but when we did, we found masses of pink birds shimmering through the heat haze – audible but inaccessible across the mud – make a tantalising sight. They are instantly recognizable by their combination of pink coloration, and long slender neck and legs. I hadn’t expected to come across these in the middle of the country. As we watched them, we also saw Red bishops which when courting were eye-catching and colourful birds moulting into black plumage with flashes of orange, yellow or red. We also saw a black male long tailed widow which grows elaborate plumes up to three times as long as its body.

Back in town, we explored the old colonial buildings such as the South African Bank and City Hall and the tall modern Harry Oppenheimer House, which is the main diamond sorting centre in South Africa, designed to allow for optimum natural light to judge the stones by. There was also a statue of Cecil Rhodes on his horse who had made his fortune in Kimberley.

We found it amazing that there was no where open to eat on a Sunday night. Driving around the centre with no success, we even stopped a policeman who said there was a McDonalds. We eventually found a Nandos Restaurant with hot spicy food. A local black guarded our parked car outside for a tip. Back at Gum Lodge, we had the ‘yappy dog from hell’ nearby who belonged to a member of staff. The little bastard kept barking non stop during a lovely sunset which then turned into a huge tropical thunder storm which filled the sky with black clouds and flashes of lightening.

Monday January 10th

“Kimberley, the capital of the Northern Cape, has a fascinating history and it is en route to some of the most beautiful and unspoilt wild country in South Africa” (Footprint). It is known first and foremost for its diamonds which were first discovered in 1866. The result of the ‘Diamond’ rush in the l870s was the ‘Big Hole’, the largest manually dug hole in the world, whereby all the individual diamond mines were gradually consolidated by 30,000 miners to form a hole with a surface area of 17 hectares and a perimeter of 1.6km. These diggers went down 400m before it became impossible to mine as a group of individuals, and in 1889, the newly formed (by Cecil Rhodes) De Beers company sunk the first shaft to 800m. Today there is over 600m of water in the hole. In August 1914 when the mine was closed, the mine shafts were 1100m deep. It is estimated that between 22 and 28 million tons of earth was removed to create the Big Hole. All this labour resulted in the recovery of 2,722kg of diamonds.

The ‘Big Hole’ had just opened this morning when we arrived. It was an award winning tourist sight, though it was strange to see a ‘No Smoking’ and ‘No Firearms’ sign as you entered. The 70 Rand Admission gave you access to a variety of activities. We started off by watching a video abut the history of Kimberley, the Diamond rush, Cecil Rhodes etc. Then our ‘guide’ called ‘Destiny’ led us and another family onto a hanging gantry for a magnificent view over the ‘Big Hole’ and explained the statistics I have already outlined. The murky green lake sparkled in the sunshine. “It is an astounding sight, especially when you remember that only a fraction of the hole lies above water level, and that every piece of earth and rock was removed by hand” (Footprint).

We were then taken on a ‘psuedo’-mining tour whereby we entered a lift and apparently descended down (having done this in Australia, I wondered why my ears weren’t popping/stomach reacting). At the ‘bottom’ we had a tour of the ‘mine’ with explanations, an effective ‘explosion’ to blow up some rock and general description of mining conditions. When we passed through a door, we found ourselves on the (surprise!) ground level and were taken to a guarded room, more like a bank vault, which contained a collection of uncut stones, reproductions of the world’s largest diamonds and examples of multicoloured stones.

Sitting alongside the Big Hole and part of the admission was a fascinating museum made up of a collection of 40 original and model buildings dating from the late 19th century. They have been arranged to form a muddle of streets. Each shop or office is furnished with items dating from the early days of Kimberley and the overall result was very effective. Professions on show included a dentist, an undertakers (complete with a row of wooden coffins), church, pub, the Standard Bank and a pawn broker. The ballroom dates from 1901 and was constructed entirely from corrugated iron, with stamped steel walls to make it look like wallpaper and fake skirting boards. There was also the De Beers Directors Private Pullman railway Coach which was a very plush carriage complete with a dining table laid with silverware and cut glass decanters and luxurious leather chairs.

In the ‘town’ I had a (miserable) go at the old wooden Skittles, while Wendy tried panning for diamonds. She first had to push around a ‘cement mixer’ full of gravel which gradually released gravel into a large bucket. The gravel was then gradually emptied onto a metal board where we poured over the contents looking for a ‘diamond.’ Surprisingly (and it took a lot of careful inspection), Wendy found an ‘orange’ diamond and was rewarded at the circus like prize stall with a choice of crap. She chose the plastic diamond earrings. Nevertheless, it was fun and gave you an idea of what the original diamond hunters went through. We spent a lovely morning at the ‘Big Hole’ and thoroughly enjoyed it. Recommended.

I had read on the internet that there was an old pub nearby called the ‘Star of the West’ that did decent steaks, so we parked up and entered thorough the swing doors. Again, there was a sign saying “No Fire-arms allowed on these premises – By Order- Manager.” The pub was virtually deserted, but a proper joint. Ice cold beers washed down good steaks (not as good as the Namibian ones in Marietal!) which was a rare lunchtime treat.

Just to the east of the city centre lay the residential suburb of Belgravia where many of the wealthy mines people built grand Victorian houses. We checked out Rudd House and Dunluce as typical examples with ornate metal balconies and verandas, but there seemed to be few of the original buildings left. We also got as close to the local diamond mine as possible (without getting arrested) to take photos of the towering walls of dirt.

With Kimberley all but done, there was nothing left to do but drive on to Bloemfontein 174km away. We failed to find Route 8 and ended up on the more minor R64 which was quieter and not much longer. Again the flattish landscape made for a non-descript journey, except for finding a large dam and passing though two places. The first called Boshof was spotless. It was like one of those Hollywood, small town, whites-only, immaculate, sleepy white picket fence kind of places. As we drove through, we were thinking, this would be a nice place to stay if it wasn’t so early. The other place further on, called Dealesville was more black orientated, more run-down, more ‘everyone hangs around the market’ kind of places that (as a white person), you just wanted to drive through.

I didn’t know what to expect from Bloemfontein. It was never a place to visit on my itinerary, but maybe a place to stay. It is the provincial capital of the Free State, the sixth biggest city in South Africa (pop 480,500) and also the judicial capital. Located on the Highveld plains, it is surrounded by a group of flat-topped hillocks. The surrounding countryside is very fertile and an important farming region, maize being the principal crop. JRR Tolkien was born here in 1892 but the family moved to England four years later.

My research had provided an address for a guest house in Bloemfontein, but with the leafy, security conscious, white suburbs in the hills, it took an age to find and when we did, there was no answer. Down the road, we spotted another place called ‘Kiepersol’ Guesthouse. It was a large house with a dozen rooms in a complex. We drove in and met the owner, a nice lady who was a shade anxious. She invited us into her spacious lounge and grilled us over our trip before making us sign a lengthy contract. We were given a comfortable en suite room adjoining the house with a fridge and then told that they would lock the gates at 5pm and we needed to use a key to get in.

Accommodation sorted, we went to explore. To be honest, there was nothing we wanted to see in this city. Our host had recommended the nearby ‘Naval Hill’ for the wildlife and I was surprised to see half a dozen black (both male and female) joggers plodding up the steep inclines. It was the first time in South Africa that I had seen a ‘black running scene’. In this heat, I was seriously impressed. We wound our twisty way up to the top, saw no evidence of wildlife (“Oh yes, there are a family of giraffes on Naval Hill” we had been told) and took in the uninspiring views of the City below. It all looked like a sprawl to me. Fortunately, we were able to find a ‘Pick n Pay’ supermarket near the guest house and find enough comfort food to survive. For some reason, the gates were still open, but we locked them behind us anyway.

Tuesday January 11th – South Africa/Lesotho

In the morning, our host couldn’t have been friendlier. She offered to have her cleaner wash our car, but the offer was made as we were loading the car, and by the time we were packed and ready to leave, no-one had appeared so we, er, left.

I was excited. We had a new country to visit today, my 113th – Lesotho. There was a short (150km) but scenic drive to the border, where we saw a long line of vehicles trying to leave South Africa. There was no problem leaving, though customs had a cursory glance at our car contents and we passed on to the Lesotho border crossing at Maseru Bridge.

Ed note: To see photos of South Africa Part 4 (after leaving Lesothto) just click on the scrolling photos.

Wednesday January 12th – Lesotho/South Africa

Returning to South Africa for a fourth and final time, the Drakenburg Mountains were the next destination. I had wanted to see these on my last visit, but the weather had been too overcast to make the trip worthwhile. This time, the skies were clear blue and the gods were looking down on us. The landscape was cultivated farmland interrupted by massive mountains and long straight sealed roads with little traffic. We passed a pick up truck full of potatoes. On the back of another truck, we saw an interesting if intriguing message stencilled which said “Due to Hi-jacking this vehicle will not stop for traffic officials. Follow to the nearest police station.”

Our route took us from Ficksberg to Bethleham where the N5 went east. Just before Harrissmith, we detoured south onto the R74 to Bergsville. We weren’t sure if this road would be sealed. It was, but there were a lot of potholes. We passed a reservoir on our right and then from an escarpment lookout point took in view of the endless plains below us to our left. Herds of cattle were grazing everywhere. The long straight road continued through more cultivated areas which were very green. Somewhere down this road, we hit a pothole which was we didn’t see until the last moment. Within a mile, our tyre was flat. So I donned my green safety jacket and changed the tyre in sweltering afternoon sunshine.

Bergville was the next major town and as soon as we got there, we hunted down a garage which repaired tyres. The tyre had a large hole, but they said they could put an inner tube in it to get around it and to use the spare. We felt lucky to have solved our problem so easily. It was 4.30pm and we did start to head towards Cathedral Peak, but the late afternoon cloud cover was very thick and the Drakenburgs would not have been seen.

Deciding to do it in the morning, we doubled back to a small town called Winterton had a mosey around the accommodation possibilities and opted for a local B&B near the police station off a side road. There was no security and the gate was not locked at night. The owner was celebrating her wedding anniversary that night, and originally we felt guilty about staying, but she was adamant. We were able to give the car a decent wash and start to get sorted for our departure. That night, we ate good steaks at the Bridge Lodge which was the main bar in town.

Thursday January 13th

After our breakfast, a black lady arrived who was the cleaner and it was still a surprise even though every B&B we stayed at had one. I thought the white owners would do it themselves.

It was a beautiful morning and we were in Natal-Zulu land. We drove though small Zulu hamlets which had either round rondavels with thatched roofs or brick or wooden shacks with corrugated iron roofs. Usually the toilet was a separate outhouse. The scenery was spectacular – small holdings of crops and animals on either side of a twisting road that wound it way up and down the hills and the towering Drakenburg Mountains as a back drop. Wisps of clouds would blow in front of the mountains in horizontal strips.

“The tabletop peaks of the Ukhahlamba-Drakensberg Range which form the boundary between South Africa and the mountain kingdom of Lesotho, offer some of the country’s most awe–inspiring landscapes. This vast 243,000 hectare sweep of basalt summits and buttresses was formally granted World Heritage status in 2000….if any landscape lives up to its airbrushed, publicity-shot alter ego, it is the jagged, green sweep of the Drakensburg” (Lonely Person Guide)

Drakensberg means ‘Dragon Mountains’, though the Zulus called it Quathlamba which means ‘Battlement of Spears.’ The National Park is 180km long and 20km wide but there is no main road linking all of the main areas of interest and of course, it should really be walked. Short of time, we concentrated on the two major sights of Cathedral Peak and Champagne Valley.

The Drakenburgs are divided into two areas known as the High Berg and Little Berg. The High Berg rises steeply up to the plateau with spectacular scenery of high peaks and cliffs, with the top of the escarpment averaging around 3000m in height and forms the western boundary of the park along the watershed between Lesotho and Natal. The Little berg lies at an altitude and consists of spurs of sandstone which stretch out towards the plains of Natal. The landscape is of rolling hills and grassland divided by forested ravines. Our day was spent in the Little Berg.

Driving over the hills and past the Zulu villages, goat herds, surrounding crops and tumbling rivers with the awesome backdrop of the Drakenburgs it was one of the most scenic areas I saw in South Africa. Only the photos can reveal the true beauty of that day. We picked up a hitchhiker called Charles who held a large umbrella over his head. He was a waiter at the Cathedral Falls Hotel and even though he wasn’t on duty until 2pm, he was setting off by 10.30am (maybe in case he didn’t get a lift and had to walk?). He answered our questions about what he had learnt at school (though he was in his early 20s) and told us that he had been a waiter for 4 years. When I asked about possibilities of ‘moving up’ within the organisation, he said that they tended to bring in white outsiders. We paid the park admission and dropped him at the entrance of the hotel where the road ended. Since we weren’t doing any walking, there wasn’t any point in stopping. We took in the views of the dominant, strange shaped mountains from the road, spotted a few baboons that ran off and enjoyed the heat of the day.

On the way back along the same road, we saw three large Zulu ladies in colourful dresses and headwear and also carrying umbrellas. We had passed them going the other way. We stopped to have a chat and gave them sweets and cold drinks. It was nice to meet some real Africans.

There were a group of young women and girls tilling a field of maize. Wendy yelled ‘I want to have a go at that’, so we stopped and Wendy introduced herself and asked about their crop and how they used the heavy tool to weed the ground. It was like a iron hoe with a long wooden handle. Some wore boots, some barefooted. They all wore hats and even more surprisingly, wore pink powder on their faces like a mask to protect their skin from the sun. Initially shy, they soon responded to Wendy’s questions and laughed as she spent 5 minutes using the hoe in line with the others. Then we were taken into their village and shown the small granary where the maize was milled. A lady was collecting a large bag of grain and carried it on her head. Wendy asked to carry it, but it was so heavy, she couldn’t even lift it, let alone carry it on her head. As we stood and talked, more children gathered to see the white strangers. We gave the group sweets (ironically, they were wrapped in plastic and some of the kids didn’t know they were supposed to remove the wrapper first) and cold lemonade. We didn’t see any men in the village.

As we crossed the fast following river, the group of women who had been washing their clothes and drying them on the rocks were still there so Wendy said “I want to have a go at that” and took a pair of dirty trousers down to the group. Because some of the women were topless, I hung back and watched from a distance. Wendy introduced herself and got a lesson in washing clothes in a river, banging them on rocks and then stripped off and plunged into the freezing river with another woman. Later the woman accompanied Wendy back ot the car, with a growing entourage of children. These were some of the most memorable experiences of our trip.

Back on the main road, we then drove south along a gravel road, coming across a large cow in the middle of the road who refused to move – I ended up driving around it, and found the sealed road to Champagne Valley. The cloud cover was coming down and the mist was starting to form. The mountains were a series of huge buttresses covered in green vegetation and forests. They had a strange structure like overlapping mountains. Eventually the road ended and we had to turn around. One strange sight on this road had been the juxtaposition of the very plush Champagne Valley Golf course with immaculate greens and 5* conditions. Yet just up the road was a poor Zulu village of run down shacks. We saw a tiny aeroplane dip down and drop its crop spray over the fields and disappear, only to reappear 20 minutes later with a new load. Again, it was strange to see this having met the local women who had to manually hoe the fields. No modern technology for them.

Returning to Winterton, we drove on to the Spionkop Dam Nature Reserve. We had seen a lot of wildlife on the trip, but we hadn’t seen rhinos. We had considered driving a few hundred kilometres to the Hluhhuwe-Umfolozi National Park which has the largest population of white and black rhinos in Africa, but our B&B owner had said that she was sure there were a few rhinos in their local nature reserve. So we went to check it out. Spionkop Dam Nature Reserve is a lovely 6000 hectare game park which has wildlife that has been reintroduced – giraffe, kudu, mountain reedbuck, blesbok, impala, eland, zebra, duiker and steenbok. It was virtually empty of people. We asked a ranger where the rhinos could be and he pointed us towards a trail that was a long loop looking down on the lake. We crawled around the trail in our car, not quite sure what we were looking for or where. I had seen rhinos in Tanzania and knew they liked grasslands. Much of this park was grassland but there were also lots of trees where maybe they could be hiding. A very cute baby zebra stood in our way at one point, not sure what to do.

After a hour, we finally spotted three in the distance. Despite their armoured appearance and formidable bulk, white rhinos are actually fairly placid. They spend most of their time grazing (up to 100kgs of food a day). We stood and watched and then ironically, the trail looped around to bring us even closer, and the rhinos were gradually moving towards the trail itself. In the end, they were less than 50ft away and looked superb. Mission accomplished. We did the other loop which had herds of the animals I mentioned earlier with good close ups. I would recommend the Reserve if you are staying at Bergville or Winterton. Boring fact: Spionkop (which is the tallest hill in the reserve) was the site of a Boer War battle in 1899, when the English got their butts kicked by the Boers. In 1906, Liverpool football club renamed one of their stands Spionkop in tribute to the fallen English soldiers in this battle. Later on, it was shortened to ‘the Kop’ which is probably the most famous football stand in England.

Our destination that evening was Dundee so we could do the battlefields the next day. It was quite a haul via Lady Smith which I had driven through on my previous visit, because so many roads were being repaired and there were lots of traffic lights at the road works. Some had traffic waiting up to 20 minutes before they changed.

We arrived in Dundee as dusk fell and made for ‘Chez Nous’ where I had spent my last night on my previous visit. Elizabeth remembered me as the tourist who had bought the crappy clay animals from a couple of kids. I was happy to let them know that the animals were still intact and had not collapsed into dust. That evening, we went to a franchise steak house and had more steaks. The waiters and manager were very attentive checking up that everything was fine. It was strange to come out of the restaurant and find the security gates shut. We had to go back in to ask to have them opened!

Friday January 14th

We made our way to Rourke’s Drift first on sealed road and then on a bumpy track. I had come in from a different direction before and this track was much rougher. Across the road from the ‘battlefield’ was a ‘Zulu Cultural Village’. I had assumed it was a closed craft centre on my previous village but we went to check it out. The custodian gave us a tour of the traditional "Umuzi" which consisted of several Zulu dome shaped round-huts building made of weaved wood, formed in a circle around the central ‘kraal’ where animals would have been kept. He explained the customs of how seniority was important and that the ‘Chief’ or elder tribal leader would live in the largest one. They had clay floors which were ‘polished’. During the tour the social system and the way of life of the Zulus were explained, their rites and costumes and the meaning of their clothes and ornaments. Their fighting technique was also demonstrated. Another man appeared dressed as a Zulu warrior with cheetah skin loincloth and a cheetah’s head on his head as a hat. Having met Zulus yesterday and seen their modern day existence, we had a lot of questions. In the end, we spent two hours there. It was only 20 Rand each and an educational experience. I was surprised that no other tourist turned up during our visit.

Then we entered Rourke’s Drift. Having already covered the Battlefields during my first visit to South Africa, I have copied it from my previous account. “Using the Rough Guide for a bit of background, the British Government had sent three colonial columns to invade Zululand after the Zulus told them to get stuffed. When they arrived, the Zulu king decided to teach them a lesson. “On January 22nd 1879, the British army suffered the most humiliating defeat in their colonial history when virtually their entire force of 1200 men at Isandlwana was obliterated by Zulu warriors with spears”

“The same evening as the Isandlwana battle, tattered British honour was restored when a group of British veterans and sick successfully defended the field hospital at Rourke’s Drift, (just 15km) across the Buffalo River from the site of the earlier disaster, against four advancing Zulu regiments. Despite the Zulu King’s express orders not to attack Rourke’s Drift, 3000-4000 hot-headed young Zulus were so fired up by the Isandlwana victory” that they decided to kick more British ass and ‘wash their spears.’ They believed every Zulu warrior should disembowel their victims to let their spirit escape and cover their spears in blood. These warriors were the reserve and had not fought a battle so were less experienced.

“For 12 hours spanning January 22 and 23rd 1879, just over a hundred British soldiers (many of whom were ill) repulsed repeated attacks by the Zulus and so earned eleven Victoria Crosses – the largest number ever awarded in one battle” (Rough Guide).

The first thing that strikes you about Rourke’s Drift apart from the fact that nothing original remains from the battle (because it was burnt down by the Zulus), is how small the compound was. There had been a hospital with a thatched roof and makeshift defensive walls around it (only the outlines exist on the grass) using a small cliff as a height advantage.

There was a museum over the original hospital that gave you a good idea of what happened – how the Zulus surrounded the compound and made repeated attacks on the hospital. The British defended one room at a time and then retreated to the next one (often knocking holes in the wall to escape to the next room and dragging injured people with them). I was intrigued to see that only 500 Zulus were killed. When you watch the film, you get the impression that thousands were killed and all piled up by the walls.

The museum also indicated that the General in charge of the British troops in South Africa was not happy about handing out 11 Victoria Crosses. He wrote in his diary that he thought some of the soldiers were lazy and didn’t deserve them. There were also indications that such an award did not always give you good luck. One soldier committed suicide in 1905. Another had to sell his Victoria Cross and died a penniless pauper.

From Rourke’s Drift, we drove over the small Buffalo River to the Isandlwana battlefield which was dominated by an eerie hill. Apparently, the British army were camped there and did not realise that 25,000 Zulus were hidden 6km away in complete silence waiting for the right moon to attack. Unaware of this, the British Commander took a large detachment of soldiers away to support other troops elsewhere and left a remnant of soldiers unsupported and un-fortified. A British army scout spotted the Zulus who then attacked in their classic ‘horns of a bull’ formation to outflank the unprotected British and overrun them. A few soldiers managed to escape and flee to Rourke’s Drift and warn them of probable attack.

As on my previous visit, I felt it was worth revisiting the Battle of Blood River battlefield. With recent heavy rain, the unsealed track was very rough and I didn’t fancy returning this way if I could avoid it. The car took a hammering. The Rough Guide agreed saying “You can’t fail to be amazed by the monument at the Blood River Battlefield…Of all the Afrikaner quasi-religious shrines across the country, this definitely takes the biscuit, comprising a replica laarger of 64 life-size bronze wagons on the site where the Boers defeated a Zulu Army.” The laager was a circle of wagons, from which they defended themselves (see photos). We had the place to ourselves and wandered around the wagons under the overcast sky. It was a unique sight.

We had asked the custodian if there was another way out, rather than backtracking. He said there was, but there had been heavy rain recently. What he didn’t ask was what type of car we had. I assume he thought we had a 4WD vehicle. The track got progressively muddier and eventually the middle section in-between where previous vehicles had driven was getting higher. I started to worry that we would get stuck. It was a Catch-22 scenario. We’d see a section that looked bad, give it a go and get so far. If we tried to reverse, we would have to do a 3 point turn and probably get stuck. Even if we turned around, we could potentially get stuck in what we had just crossed. So we crossed our fingers and ploughed on – literally. At one point, the car was at a 45 degree angle and we were moving in a straight line across the middle section – almost floating on mud. It was the worst track we negotiated. We came through a village and were moving so slowly that a bunch of kids ran alongside us asking for ‘sweets’. It would have been ironic if we had got stuck here right at the end of the trip. I have no idea how we would have got out of there without someone towing us. It was such a relief to reach the sealed road.

We decided to head back to Dundee. Rather than return to Chez Nous, Wendy wanted to go ‘upmarket’ for our final night. We searched around and found nothing and then spotted the ‘Country Inn’ on the main street, which I had never seen before even though I had driven down that street quite a few times. It was a proper old fashioned hotel which had refurbished with a large lounge area, a study with library, a bar/restaurant. It was also full of memorabilia about the Boer War. It was a lovely place and very atmospheric. We got an en suite room and later ate our final steaks. In the small restaurant was a small English tour group who were touring with their own guide and minibus doing many of the South African sights we had done but they were just setting off. The hotel even had a PC with free internet access, and I could see my emails for only the 2nd time on the trip.

Saturday January 15th

It was the final day. Since we didn’t have to be at Johannesburg Airport until the evening, we had some time to burn. After a fried breakfast, we packed our suitcases, dumped stuff we no longer needed (or gave it to the cleaning staff) and I cleaned the car inside and out as well as change the ‘inner tube’ tyre so that the ‘spare’ was back in the boot.

We still had over 400km to the airport but I estimated about 5 hours. We set off towards Newcastle on the N11 and within 30 minutes, I saw a sign to Chelmford Dam Reserve and thought it would be nice to just see some wildlife on our final day – whatever was there. Just after we entered, the car was juddering. We had another flat tyre (our third) and it was the one that had been fixed in Namibia. So I changed my second tyre of the day and the ‘spare’ was back on.

Pottering around the reserve, the single track was bumpy and muddy in parts but we kept going trying to find animals. There wasn’t much – the usual zebras, springbok, eland and kudu and lots of birds such as herons and widow weavers with the long tails. But it was better than nothing. We pushed onto Newcastle through more lengthy road works to find a sizeable town. I thought we’d be able to get the tyre repaired here, but after seeing three closed ‘tyre repair’ shops, it dawned on me that it was Saturday afternoon and half day closing. Doh! We’d have to chance it to the airport. From Newcastle, we ventured further north to Volkrust and then took the R23 to Standerton. It was a good road. We then turned onto the R50 to Leandra which deteriorated into the biggest potholes we had seen all month. Some of these holes were wider than the car and unavoidable. With no spare tyre, I was wondering what would happen if we got another puncture. By the time we got help, we would miss the flight. We zigzagged around endless holes for miles. Some were 6” deep.

It was a relief to join the smooth N17 toll road which took us towards central Johannesburg and then connected to the road going to the airport. I was constantly trying to work out how much spare time we had if we broke down. There was a strange traffic sign on the toll road warning drivers of ‘Low flying Owls’. Near the airport, we filled up the car and were relieved that we had made it.

At the airport, we found the Hertz area and emptied the car. We had returned the car intact, slightly grubbier inside, a flat tyre in the back and a ‘dodgy’ one being used. I thought we might get charged for the tyres but our comprehensive insurance covered it. We had driven just over 10,000km in 26 days.

We then had fun finding the check in area. The London flight wasn’t stated on the Departure screens. Someone said it was in the Domestic Terminal and we walked half way there when we thought, it must be an International departure, only to find at the International terminal that it was indeed a ‘Domestic’ departure because it was flying internally to Cairo first rather than London. Eh? So we trekked back.

As we were lining up to check in, an official said that we had to have our suitcases wrapped in cellophane. Usually you pay for this privilege at airports, but the robberies from suitcases had become so bad that it was now a compulsory but free service. I don’t remember much about the flight to Cairo that left officially at 21:45. With no booze or in-house entertainment, I think I slept through most of it.

Sunday January 16th

We arrived at Cairo at 05:40 and waited for a connecting flight which officially left at 09:20 but left much later. There were a couple of problems at Cairo. Firstly, that the terminal was packed but there was no where to sit unless you paid to eat and we had to lie on the tiled floor. More importantly, Wendy had something wrong with her legs and had collapsed in the women’s toilets. I stood outside waiting, oblivious to this, thinking she was taken so long because of queues. But she was having hot towels wrapped around the bottom of her legs. We thought it could be a case of ‘Deep Vein Thrombosis’.

On the connecting flight to London, she alerted an air hostess to her problem, which had disappeared and she made sure she stretched and was offered more hot towels. It turns out that she was just deficient in salt and had got very bad cramp with dehyrdration. One good point about the EgyptAir Cairo to London flight was that individual entertainment centres now existed and you could get a beer or a wine with your meal.

Supposedly landing at 12:35, I had booked to bus tickets from London Victoria for a 15:00 bus, thinking we would have enough time to get the underground there. But we arrived after 13:00 and by the time the luggage appeared it was 13:30. When my suitcase appeared, the plastic wrapping had gone. Rather than inspect the contents, we made our way to the airport bus station to try and get a bus from there. There was a long slow line which we would have to stand in to get our tickets amended, As we waited, an announcement said that the ‘Bus to Norwich has just arrived and is leaving in 10 minutes’. So we found that and I asked the bus driver if we could pay for the extra bit. A bit of a job’s worth, he said that he wasn’t ‘authorised’ to do it and that we’d have to get it amended at the office. When I pointed out the long queue, he pointed at someone disappearing from the station. ‘He’s the boss and he’s off for his lunch’. I ran after him and explained the delayed flight etc. ‘Oh for f**** sake, can’t anyone make a decision around here”, initialled my ticket, walked back to the bus driver and said ‘Let them on’. Away we went, direct to Norwich with a few stops arriving at 1800, the same time as our planned bus. That was the good part….

Postscript: When I got home, I emptied the suit case and discovered some missing items – mainly my wash bag which also had my old mobile phone, spare glasses and swiss army knife. My Dive computer was also missing. Usually I take this as hand luggage but my hand luggage was full. Fortunately, all my souvenirs were there. Everything else could be replaced. A mate later pointed out that there was probably a luggage handler in Johannesburg who smelt nice from my deodorant, probably had my glasses on and couldn’t work out why he couldn’t tell the time with my dive computer which he thought was a watch, so he was trying to take it apart with my Swiss Army knife.

I also came home to a destroyed flat. Two days after we left for South Africa, the severe cold temperatures caused 5 of my water pipes to burst in my attic and had flooded my bathroom, bedrooms and hall, bringing down the bathroom and hall ceilings as well. My dad had caught it a day later, had turned off the water and organised to have the pipes and ceilings repaired. He had told me of the flood on Xmas Day when I called from the Botswana border waiting for the petrol to arrive at the garage. It took me 6 weeks to repair/replace stuff. Fortunately, no contents were damaged, just the carpets. This explains the delay in my account.

I had to go to work the next morning. Crawling into my car in the morning darkness, I went to turn the radio to find it had been stolen.

I should never have come home…..

Travel - £82.56
Accommodation - £133.55 (2 nights)
Food - £103.01
Other - £44.46
Total - £343.58