More South African Experiences
NORDLYS
David and Annette Ridout
Thu 22 Nov 2007 10:10
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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
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