Day 60 - Cederberg/Tankwa Karoo

We woke up this morning like we had been attacked and gang raped by the 'Red Gods' themselves and inoculated with their 'blasphemous poison'! Every muscle and joint was agony. Yesterday was no jaunt up 'Jeans Hill' in Kleinmont! To aggravate the situation, we still had to pack up!

Knowing full well we had a full days drive ahead, we still only managed a 10 o'clock exit from probably the best campsite so far. Everything was exactly as it should've been, and the thrilling memories of yesterday, way on top of the 'most spectacular list' yet, if not ever! Lush green grass to camp on, in a valley although still with a green tinge from the recent unexpected and unseasonal rains, was starting to feel autumn sniffing around. Established Oaks and Elms rusting in as many shades of crimson, as the gigantic rock Red Gods themselves. Not quite bitterly cold but very fresh, the overnight visitors who had arrived on Friday night, were making their way to the 'Wolfberg Cuts', by now too late to hike to The Arch'.

Travelling south toward Ceres on roads without names or numbers (R303) we made good time on a fairly dodgy road surface on our way to the Tankwa Karoo. Through various unheard passes, Grootrivier Pass, Blinkberg Pass, Katbakkies Pass, Skittery Pass to the Ceres Karoo. These passes west of the Kouebokkeveldberge and between the Skurweberge and Swartruggens ranges without navigational errors by Karen, we connected with the R355. A dusty but well maintained gravel surface, we crossed into the Northern Cape out of the Western heading North, to the Tankwa-Karoo. There may well have been showers here over the past few weeks, but no evidence at all. East and West was completely barren land, not a blade and not an animal for near on 100km's! Dusty dams and now and then a green bush and even a tree barely surviving in what might have been a small riverbed once. Dilapidated buildings and farmhouses, worn out rusted windmills and water tanks. Coils of brown barbed wire in stacks, lay just where they were left the only remnants of trashed family dreams of how many generation's hope?

These were and some still, farmers, men and women of diehard longevity, only trying to make a living and surviving on the bare minimum! These people cant have any aspirations for a better life, there cant be one, better than this! There is nothing and nothing needed either. The beauty cannot be explained, at least not by me! This is a feeling of peace and an absolute disregard for whatever is happening elsewhere in the country and world. Here, tomorrow is just another day, not tough by any means to them, anyway. This is their life they love so much, and I want to identify with it. Nothing is wanted other than to survive, peacefully to the next day. From where we look, it would seem horrendous and maybe impossible, but having been here now for a couple of days and hundreds of kilometers, one can only but love the simple life.

In our lives, we cannot shake the want of striving and succeeding, of keeping up, of racing around meeting deadlines, listening to the daily news and other peoples bullshit, whoever! These insular communities, whilst in touch with each other, share the same daily challenges, but way different to ours, simple and meaningless in comparison, to us anyway. Our daily survival is artificial and plastic, theirs is hand to mouth and real!

Would you want to live out here? YES! Could you live out here? NO!

We are so entangled with our own and others bullshit, we don’t and cant even live our own lives!

Here in this wilderness and out of nowhere, the 'Tankwa Padstal' right on the edge of the R355, in the middle of nowhere! 'Delicious' fast- food, cold beer, including a massive steel Flying Saucer crashed into the earth. A scrapped car perched on top of an old windmill frame and another buried bonnet deep into the ground. We had hardly passed a single car all day but here they people were eating, drinking and making merry! Bikers from everywhere, and at least 10 other cars (and a donkeycart), people chatting about the previous days 'Bike-Burn'. Apparently an annual get-together of bikers, but the exact story is still to be established (no cell phone/data signal or 220v electricity for 2 days now.

The very kind lady at the 'Padstal' assured us that we would not make the Tankwa National Park by closing, so diverted us to 'Die Mont', which was not worth the effort.

A shocking road off the R355 of some 30km, we rattled and bounced, shaking the whole rig full of dust. The farm road for the full 30km long, not a drop of water, neither a blade of grass! Fist to head size rocks everywhere and only one Gemsbok! Nothing!

We eventually arrived short of 5 o'clock at 'Die Mont'. A true Oasis, a large dam full of water and even some trees and green grass, no signal, no 220v and not much love either! At R450 for the night, I think the wench at the Padstal and this lady had us duped! All night a herd of sheep grazed around our caravan, bleating and lambs searching for their mothers, chomping grass next to our caravan, and answering back.

We had eaten big at the Padstal, so nothing on the menu and to bed.

Love, Peace and Light!

M&K
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