Life had become too complicated, too many issues piled up. I needed peace. So at four on 20 July I took the road, first north, then east.
The newly replaced window winder on the old Cruiser lasted to the third toll gate, then stuck with the window half open. At an outside temperature six degrees above freezing it was character building.
At first it seemed as if I was making no progress through the dark. But then a pale line appeared in the east, slowly turning first into pale purple, then layers of orange and pink. The area was going to live up to its name as the Land of the Silver Mist. Except that, as I turned east on to the Pietersburg Plateau the sun rose in golden glory in a sky of crimson mist. And of course there was no place to pull off and take a photo.
After a fuel stop I turned full east, past the area where I had grown up. Open savanna where we chased rabbits are now busy suburbs, and the inhabitants had developed their own traffic rules that have no relation with safety or existing road signs.
In Magoebaskloof Die Padstal welcomed me to breakfast and friendly, efficient service. Then the road led on and on to the Phalaborwa gate. The usual friendly Greeting Elephant was going off duty, but another was ready to welcome me.
At Red Rocks a Giant Kingfisher played cat and mouse with me, diving into a pool just when I had given up watching for him, but he did not catch anything. Instead a colleague of his, tentatively identified as a xxx Kingfisher, caught a fish nearly as long as himself, and beat it on the rocks. Was that to get rid of the scales, or to tenderise it? It went down whole.
A small herd of elephants entertained me, especially two year olds. One had discovered a mud pool and was wallowing in it, then his friend came running up and climbed on top of him. Of course so hidden behind a bush that I could get no pictures. Eventually one grandmother started this small group moving, then stepped into the road and stood there looking at me, clearly indicating that they would appreciate a little space, please. I was ready to comply, but discovered the matriarch of the rest of the big herd standing behind me, contemplating on my possible motives.
A commercial tourist driver pointed me to a number of rough tracks, reserved for high clearance vehicles. One of the camp neighbours was willing to follow me, and two vehicles are always better than one. But she got stuck in the sand and blasted me for ‘mansplaining’ how to get out. We managed, and saw some beautiful scenery I had not seen before.
As usual the camaraderie in the camp was an eye opener. From the lady who deciphered the microwave oven for me to the one who asked my help to operate her camera we became family. As the Hávamál advises, you have to find your tribe. Two couples were ambling their way back from camping at Mana Pools in Zimbabwe towards their home in the Cape, one solitary guy was spending a two month break from his business with his motor home, going where the whim takes him. A Pretoria couple who came down for the weekend. A Spanish marine biologist and family was making their way back to Malawi at the end of their stay there, stocking up with wildlife experience before Europe.
Nature with its sounds, sights, little things like a squirrel tugging at your trousers to beg some food despite the rules forbidding it, the energy of the trees recovering from their wounds and preparing for a new summer, all served to prepare me mentally to put old failures behind me and face new beginnings.
Repairs on the Letaba bridge precluded my usual morning coffee and sunrise ritual, there was a sign forbidding stopping on the bridge. But on the last morning the sign had fallen over, and I received the full beauty of the dawn. A fitting end to my visit. The sun also rises – a beautiful wish, but also the end phrase of the Catholic funeral rite.
A farewell sight was a family of honey badgers cavorting next to the road, then setting off into the bush. And my camera complained of insufficient light, the phone wanted to know if I wished to enter low power mode, so the images remain for a next time.
And then the Cruiser and I turned back, stopping again at Die Padstal. After that the Cruiser sang off the long miles, gifting me with relatively good fuel consumption.
As usual, too short a visit. But I will be back.
