More South African Experiences

NORDLYS
David and Annette Ridout
Thu 22 Nov 2007 10:10
Travel to the Drakensberg Mountains
and the Zulu War Battlefield Sites
 
 
Tuzi Gazi Marina
Richards Bay,
22nd November 2007
 
On Sunday the 11th November we motored north, again in the company of Ken and Janet our American friends, to the wetland reserve at St Lucia.  Here we enjoyed a really informative boat trip up the inland waterway seeing large numbers of birds, including the world's largest heron, the goliath heron.  Tall and stately in many ways similar to the variety found in Rope Hill.  The highlight of this trip was however a 'raft up' of basking hippos.  There must have been about twenty of them all huddled together and knowing how deadly these creatures can be when irritated we were glad to be in a large aluminum tourist boat.  As we were the first tour of the day we were lucky to have this vessel almost to ourselves however amongst the few tourists there were both Swedes and Danes so Annette was able to chatter in her mother tongue.  I felt very 'under camerared' with my little point and shoot.  Most of the others had very expensive looking SLRs with at least a couple of feet of zoom lens bolted to the front.
 
 
a raft of hippos
 
goliath heron
 
 
 
Next day the four of us set off on our travels proper.  We managed to frighten ourselves by getting into the 'wrong part' of Pietermaritzburg but otherwise arrived at a beautifully tended farm B&B which we learnt milked over 850 cows each day.  I am not sure why one feels so threatened when in areas where one is the only white face.  This is an experience I have had in places ranging from Washington DC to the docks of Lagos, Nigeria.  Always however with Afro peoples.  I never feel the same in such places as the back streets of Calcutta or Kowloon.  Whether this is because of media indoctrination or some sort of innate distrust I do not know.  I have never been attacked or seriously threatened in any way by anyone of any race. 
 
Our tour vehicle and guide turned up at the farm next morning and we set off for the Sani Pass.  This is the only way through into Lesotho for many miles in either direction.  The road snakes its way though magnificent scenery and the final few km is a series of precipitous hairpins after which one comes out onto the plateau of the High Veldt.  On the way one passes through 8 km of no man's land that lies between the boarder posts of South Africa and Lesotho.  I will now let photos show all this far better than I can describe it.
 
View up the Sani Pass.  The last bit, in the middle of the photo is a daunting
sight now.  What it must have been like for the farmers with their wagons and
ox teams one can only imagine.  This pass was and still is the only way for many
Lesotho people to get to and trade with  South Africa. 
 
view from the top.
 
The four of us at the Lesotho border control.  Note the wind blowing the
sign on the right.  The drop in temperature as we climbed was marked.
In the winter the people who live on this plateau  can get temperatures down to -14C
 
Life is hard for the locals.  However one advantage of being in a dry cold climate
is that most boys survive the circumcision ceremony at the age of 13.  Apparently the
death rate from infection down in the warmer more humid areas is much larger!
 
I am now going to canter off into the dangerous realms of politics.  As I said earlier our stay was on a truly impressive and beautifully situated farm.  The young Afrikaner family, father, mother and two daughters were hard working and ran a very impressive set up.  Both from the farmers point of view and as a B&B.  The down side became apparent when we went for a walk round the farm and up into the fields beyond.  We passed some of the workers accommodation.  The guests consisted of three couples.  A young pair of Germans from Kiel, and the four of us.  Everyone felt uncomfortable when faced with this reality.  If in years to come we hear of more stories of the whites having their land forcibly taken away then it will leave me ambivalent.  If this happens it will be a disaster as the land will doubtless not be managed in anything like the same way to the detriment of everyone, owners, workers and drinkers of the product.  At the same time this is going to happen if one cannot keep ones staff in at least human habitation.
 
Four families live here and six children walk to school each day.  When we met them
they were immaculately dressed and keen to speak some English.  Altogether
a very impressive bunch.  While talking to them the farm owner's wife swept past in her
 Mercedes with her two children on the way to their school.  Lifts to the local children were
 not offered despite her wagon having many spare seats.   Friends who know me well will
know that I am no left wing trendy but this sort of thing leaves a sick taste in my mouth
and a feeling of sorrow at what I feel will be the inevitable outcome in a few years time.
I hope I am wrong.
 
Next day we drove about 50km to Kamberg and the site of some very old rock drawings that had been done by the bushmen over 2000 years ago.  To get to the paintings one has to hike uphill for about two hours.  The scenery as one climbs this part of the Drakensberg escarpment is almost as dramatic as at the Sani pass and this time we were able to savour it at a slower pace.  Being spring the wild flowers were at their best.
 
The paintings are on the cliff in the top right of the picture which was taken
after an hours walking.
 
Our guide, a lovely young Zulu girl receives a mobile phone call while telling
us about the paintings.  21st century meets BC?
 
The guide pictured above is married with two children who were at school while we climbed with her.  A good job for her but as there is little if any local work for the men her husband works as a long distance lorry driver in Cape Town.  He returns home once a year and statistically will be HIV infected as the lorry drivers have a very high infection rate.  I am told that the men often choose to keep away for so long and no doubt run several families.  The cruel fact is that life expectancy in Lesotho has fallen from 58 to 45 and is tumbling fast in South Africa.  HIV was the last thing I was thinking about as we tramped through magnificent scenery and it only surfaced in my mind when she told me the story of her unsatisfactory family life.
 
Leaving the Drakensbergs behind us we drove to Rorke's drift and the site of one of the most amazing battles of our Colonial past.  Also to nearby Isandlwana where more British soldiers were lost than at the battle of Waterloo.  This is not a place to tell the story of the Zulu war but it is a story that is worth going into.  The best way to do this is to listen to the CDs of the late David Rattray.  His recent murder at the hands of Zulus has been in the press as he and his battle field tours became famous when Prince Charles came and went on one and then set up a charitable trust to further local advance.  We were very lucky to get a tour taken by Robert Gerrard, a retired British officer who himself is a dedicated and very knowledgeable man on both the Zulu and Boer wars.  The experience of having a day with him is not one that is quickly forgotten and there was more than once that my eyes went moist as he told the story of the battle of Isandlwana and then when we toured the site of the nearby defence of Rorke's Drift.
 
The saddle at Isandlwana.  The British were unable to come back to bury their dead
for three months.  The Zulus removed theirs a few days after the battle.
All British soldiers were gutted to 'let their spirits out' by the Zulus who ate
the warm gall bladder contents.  Each cairn represents where five or more
body remains were found.
The next picture is taken further down facing just over 90 degrees left of this one.
 
25,000 Zulus appeared over this ridge.  Each held his shield to his right thus making it look
like double the number of people.  They thumped their shields and stamped the
ground till it shook.  One column came down where there is now a road, the other off to
the left of the picture.  These 'the horns of the buffalo' came onwards.  The Head stayed on the ridge
until the former were in place then they all advanced.  This was a very well drilled and disciplined army.
After the men the women replaced them on the ridge shouting encouragement to their men.
1700 British soldiers were slain.  Only a very few got away towards Rorke's Drift.
 
Finally Rob in full swing at the Zulu memorial at Rorke's Drift
 
So I am writing this still in Tuzi Gazi marina as the 'village' of long distance yachts grows and the weather windows for onward travel fail to appear.  Hopefully we will get away this weekend and now we will leave even if there is only an open 24 hours and we have to stop in Durban.  The Clipper fleet leaves there on Sunday so there will be room for us if neccessary.  
 
Happy times to all our readers
David and Annette