Cape Town - Most of my outdoor excursions tend to be on foot, hikes up mountains and along the beach perhaps, but there are times when you wish to get a little further away from the madding crowd and then there is only one thing for it.
Pack up the truck and head out into the wide blue yonder – which translated recently into an extended trip to explore some of the Namakwa Trail running alongside the Orange (Gariep) River on the South African/Namibian border.
It is a long way to go, but the frustrations of kilometres of driving and near constant interruptions of stop-go roadworks, in the end only served to provide stark counterpoint to the wondrous solitude that we enjoyed in the desert.
We were heading north to the border and aimed to pick up the trail between Pella and Voelsdrift, armed with permits from Namaqua tourism as well as food, water, additional fuel, tents and pretty much everything but the kitchen sink. The section we were to explore is remote, a GPS is highly recommended and maps of the area, available from the National Geo-spatial office on Rhodes Drive are a must. Get lost out here and you are going to be in for a rough time of it, but then I suppose that is the point of really trying to get away from it all.
The entire trail covers a route from Pella to Alexander Bay, although we had no intention of covering it all.
Pella is a small township, settled and abandoned more than once in its long and turbulent history, an interesting place in that, quite astonishingly, it boasts its own cathedral. Apparently the church was constructed over years in the late 1800s by a few missionary priests and based, without plans, on little more than a picture from a book. The building is certainly something of an oddity, set as it is in the dry, dusty and sunbaked desert.
But the entire trail is full of oddities. Not far away, where the river brings arterial life blood to the baked sands, you encounter the surreal sight of endless luxuriant groves of date palms, in complete contrast to the barren desolation surrounding them.
That really is the theme of the trail – where there is water there is life, and away from the flow there is apparent desolation Even then, some creatures eke out an existence – social weaver birds build their carefully crocheted grass tenement blocks on nearly every available tree and pole, lizards skitter underfoot and more sinister inhabitants, scorpions and snakes, scuttle and slither across the hot sand.
After several hours of off-road driving through some of the most magnificent if barren scenery, we finally arrived at our chosen camp. This isn’t the spot if you are looking for modern conveniences. You won’t find cellphone reception or even drinking water but you will find a level of peace and quiet that is deafening in its intensity.
It takes a bit of getting used to; initially you tend to only see the lack of things, of shade or shelter, of trees of any size, of water. But as you tune into the rhythm of the natural world, much is revealed. There are numbers of raptors of all descriptions along the trail; snake eagles, buzzards, and hawks of all kinds. On the river we saw pied kingfishers plying their trade in the shallows, herons stalking the edges of the stream seeking out small fish, and we werewoken each the morning by that most African of calls, the cry of fish eagles.
Despite the dust storms, the heat of the days and the bitter chill of the nights, we gradually acclimatised to the way of things – so much so that the 4x4 next to the tents appeared an alien monster, incongruous in the near-unspoilt natural setting.
The desert light is a photographer’s dream, gloriously painting the mountains in shades of pink and orange in the early dawn and turning them deep purple hues as the sun set again in the evenings. At night the blackness of space, unsullied by the light pollution of urban living, reveals millions of stars, an infinite spattering of bright pin pricks in the deep velvet cloak of the night sky.
After a time you feel at one with nature and insignificant in the grand scheme of things all at the same time. The pace of life slows here, rising with the chill dawn and settling down to sleep when the fire dies out in the evenings. It’s a rugged and rather dusty existence, but one that allows the stresses of modern living to fall off your shoulders like a discarded and unnecessary coat.
Eventually it was time to make the long trek homeward. With each passing kilometre signs of civilisation became more evident, until, finally, we were motoring past petrol stations, wayside inns, faux Tuscan villas and all the trappings of modern society.
I have done this trip before and on arriving home the sprawl of the city always seems mildly offensive. We had spent days living at the most simple level of existence in spectacular scenery, wanting in reality for very little. It takes a week or more to finally turn on the TV again and readjust to the rush and bustle of the city and, although you can enjoy the creature comforts that home offers, I would love to be back out there. With the kingfishers for company and the night sky as a roof over my head.
* For more information see www.namakwa-dm.gov.za
Weekend Argus