Sunday, 16 February 2020

My Kalahari Adventure Part 3



It was more than two years since I had been in this part of the Karoo, and I don’t think rain has fallen in that time. The veld was so dry it was grey, even though many of the plants are a dull colour with tiny leaves set close to the stems for efficient retention of the very last drop of water that might be absorbed. And yet we passed bushes that were a mass of pink or yellow flowers – nature responding to infinitesimal amounts of water that allow the buds to burst out within days and so attract whatever bird or insect that will pollinate it and ensure its continuation as a species. There are many that have succumbed to the drought, but one can never be sure. The Karoo is a survival story.

Not a single car passed us on the road from Beaufort West to Fraserburg. These are indeed the roads less travelled and make us very aware of how vast and lonely this land can be – sometimes good and sometimes bad. Fraserburg has a golf course – astoundingly – and one could be forgiven for driving by and not recognizing any traditional features. But one can only admire the hardy golfer who plays a round in such inhospitable territory – a links course would be a dream to aspire to, never mind the manicured fairways of Fancourt.

The bad part of a lonely road struck just north of Fraserburg, and we came gently to a halt as a result of a sharp stone piercing a tyre. Completely in control of any situation and totally unflappable, Japie and Ralie extracted all the tools to do a repair, while we did a good job of remaining cool, calm and collected in the airconditioned bus. As luck would have it, a handsome young farmer chanced by in his truck – first vehicle of the day – and in no time the bus was jacked up, the tyre plugged and pumped and we were waving his tail-lights goodbye. Salt of the earth.

The white gravel stretched ahead of us, kilometre after kilometre, the dry veld on either side unbroken by trees or buildings. Even the sheep were far away, closer to a water trough fed by an iconic Karoo windpomp where the farmer brings feed for the diminishing flock in these severe drought conditions. It was heart-rending to come across a young lamb lying in the hot sun at the roadside, too weak to clamber through the fence to join the rest of the flock, and although we stopped to carry it up, we held out little hope for its survival. They rushed towards the fence, thinking we were bringing food, and no ewe claimed the lamb as hers. There would be many such situations ahead and I learned that living away from big cities (where everything needed for life comes easy) entails many hardships. It seemed as though the main 'crop' for the farmers was stones.






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