201 - Drakensberg Shuffle (Drakensberg, South Africa)
AFTER KOSI BAY, WE HEADED SOUTH TO ST. LUCIA ESTUARY located within the boundary of iSimangaliso Wetland Park.
“The ongoing fluvial, marine and aeolian processes in the site have produced a variety of landforms, including coral reefs, long sandy beaches, coastal dunes, lake systems, swamps, and extensive reed and papyrus wetlands. The interplay of the park's environmental heterogeneity with major floods and coastal storms and a transitional geographic location between subtropical and tropical Africa has resulted in exceptional species diversity and ongoing speciation. The mosaic of landforms and habitat types creates breathtaking scenic vistas. The site contains critical habitats for a range of species from Africa's marine, wetland and savanna environments.” (https://whc.unesco.org/en/list/914/)
Translation? It’s beautiful and well worth a visit. We explored the estuary and buzzed the coast. This was time well spent, and our instincts told us to linger, but the campsite was crowded and overpriced… frown. Though the beachfront near the campsite is remarkable, the condition of our skin (crispy) demolished any desire to sunbathe. It was probably a mistake, but we decided to move on.
Enter the chameleon. I noticed one in the road and pulled over immediately. I could watch these magnificent little bastards all damn day. They’re built to astonish, from their unmistakable “stutter-step-robot-dance” way of moving to their eyes rotating 360 degrees independently of one another. Excellent. Thank you, sir, I’ll have another.
Per recommendation, we continued south toward Richards Bay. We had trouble seeing the appeal. It’s an industrial hub and boasts the largest coal export facility in the world. That’s as sexy as it gets… or not. I think we made yet another mistake. A follow-up later revealed a myriad of things to see and do in the area. Oops… again… or not. It was probably the right move, as research left me thinking it’s over-touristed… or not.
“Richards Bay is a city in KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa, situated on a 30 square kilometre lagoon of the Mhlatuze River. It is one of the country's largest harbors and has the deepest natural harbor on the African continent. Richards Bay is known as the gateway to Zululand and embodies the area's natural beauty and diversity. It is home to wetlands that contain thousands of species of birds and is close to reserves where you can see Africa's big mammals. Visitors are offered a lot of recreational opportunities and are using Richards Bay as a starting point for exploring KwaZulu Natal and bigger cities like Johannesburg in Gauteng.”
We surveyed a few unappealing campsites, stopped for lunch along the water, and got the hell out. It wasn’t easy. More road construction. I tried several escape routes, to no avail. We were stuck in traffic for over an hour in our non-air-conditioned car, ruing our detour to Richards Bay. Patience is a virtue. It really is. No, really.
We intended on sleeping in Durban, but cruised right on by. We had no desire to play the “where the fuck are we” game inside the city center. The chaos of a five-lane highway lends itself to staying in your lane and soldiering on. Bye, bye, Durban. Parting is such sweet sorrow.
We made it as far as Pietermaritzburg and spent a significant amount of time trying to pronounce it. We failed. Leslie was under the weather, so we lounged for two nights in a comfortable bed and restocked our supplies.
After our brief respite, we were off to Drakensberg, the highest mountain range in Southern Africa, forming part of the boundary between South Africa and Lesotho. Our first stop was the “Southern Burg” in the Sani Pass region. The Sani Pass leads to the top floor of Southern Africa and furnishes a spectacular ride replete with spine-tingling switchbacks and extraordinary views… or so I’ve heard. The VW Polo wasn’t up to the task, although I still pushed the envelope a tad. After passing a sign that mandated special permission for anyone not traveling in a 4WD, we capitulated and turned around… sniffle.
We spent three nights camping at the Sani Lodge. The excursion wasn’t as fruitful as we’d hoped. We still suffered from the scorching sunburns received almost a week earlier. This made carrying a backpack moderately unpleasant, somewhat akin to sandpaper on skin. Super. On the first day, we went for a short stroll as a primer. Inclement weather spoiled the second day, though the storm itself was a spectacle worth seeing. When the third day rolled around, I took advantage of the sun and got a pleasant hike in… alone. Leslie was feeling ill and had to return to the lodge shortly after embarking.
Off-season shitty weather does have its advantages. I had the trail to my lonesome. The loop took me through the hills, past a cave, and over a spectacular waterfall. I spent time just sitting, lost in a fog of quiet contemplation that almost felt drug-induced. I sat on the hillside and listened to the grass rustle in the wind. I sat in the cave and listened to water trickle over the opening. I sat near a perfect swimming hole and soaked my feet in the frigid waters. The route might only take a couple of hours at a steady pace, but I squeezed out over four. And best of all, not another living soul anywhere near me. Delicious solitude. Ahhhh…
Courtesy of So So
Courtesy of Yusuf Amod
We left the Sani Pass area and began our foray through the back roads of central Drakensberg. Although we had a map and some vague idea of where we were, it felt a like we’d entered East Jesus. Small villages and large swaths of farmland were all we encountered for hours—beautiful and unsettling at the same time. Perhaps beautiful because it was unsettling…
Driving a VW Polo along an empty dirt road (we did pass what appeared to be two other tourists in a small red car at one point) can leave one lingering on thoughts of a breakdown. Sure, Avis provides twenty-four-hour roadside assistance, but service is contingent on them finding you… duh. Can you hear me now?
We made our way to Winterton, where we splurged on a room for two nights. Leslie still wasn’t a hundred percent, and I was starting to feel like crud. The prescription was a comfy mattress and a flat-screen television. Yessir. After a good night’s sleep, we drove some 30 km into Champagne Valley and went for a short hike in the Monks Cowl area. We’d planned on an extensive jaunt but, once again, the weather poo-poohed our intentions. We managed a pleasant stroll to Sterkspruit Waterfall and were still able to take in some of the area’s natural beauty, passing rain clouds and all. Again, bad weather meant no people, adding a haunting touch to the desolate rain-soaked scenery.
After Winterton, we continued north to the “Upper Berg” for two nights of camping inside Royal Natal National Park. We’d intended to camp in Cathedral Peak Nature Reserve (breathtaking area, I might add) but the campsite was less than inspiring, the weather still poopy, and the hike we fancied closed due to landslides. Superb. Royal Natal made up for it. The campsite (Mahai) had a nice backdrop and the area, like all of Drakensberg, was visually striking. We passed a day trekking to a fantastic waterfall (Gudu Falls) and spent two hours soaking it in. (Pun impended.) I attempted to swim beneath the falls, but the icy waters kept me and my nards from getting far. On the return, we encountered a baboon troop, whose tribesmen kindly posed for a few shots.
Courtesy of Jacques Crafford
Courtesy of FPVzilla
Our next destination was supposed to be Tugela Falls for a hike along the top of Upper Drakensburg’s “Amphitheatre.” We never made it. We inquired at a nearby hotel about the possibility of getting to the Sentinel Car Park, where the trailhead and a sleeping hut are located. The woman at the front desk assured us we could manage in a 2WD vehicle. The woman at the front desk must’ve been huffing glue.
Daylight was fading, but we gave it a shot. What we found was a breathtakingly beautiful mountain ridge road strewn with small boulders and rocks of varying sizes. I took our silver box (i.e. the Polo Vivo) as far as I could (which was five kilometers farther than I should have), but had to capitulate. The Polo took a beating but endured. There were tense moments when we thought we might tear out the bottom. We didn’t. Even if we’d made it, it might’ve been a Pyrrhic victory. During our retreat, it started to rain and continued most of the night. I can only imagine the road condition afterward. We could’ve been trapped… gasp. It was a shame because the scenery was awesome to behold. I wanted more. This is where regret for not splurging on a 4WD caught up to us. Damn it, y’all!
“Seeing as how I’m from the Pacific Northwest, it’s only natural that I love the outdoors. So, when I think of camping, my mind conjures up images of remote wilderness, starry nights by campfire, and space – lots of it. If you’re from South Africa, chances are your definition of camping is a little different. It probably involves luxuries like electricity and communal kitchen, as well as neighbors on all sides.
I’m not going to lie. There were many times that I was thankful to have such conveniences, especially with the hit-and-miss weather we experienced; but at the end of the day, I would far rather do without. There is something to be said for peace and quiet, just as there is for disconnecting and allowing yourself to get swept away with whatever surrounds you. That’s not to say it can’t happen with modern amenities, because it most certainly can; it just takes more to stimulate the senses, is all.
We said goodbye to Kosi Bay and headed south, stopping for a night in the St. Lucia Estuary. The landscape was lovely, but the campsite was nothing to write home about. Crowds and a going rate of sixty dollars per night kept us moving.
While on the road, we decided to have a look at Richard’s Bay. A friend had suggested it, but after having a little looksee, I can’t imagine why. The only way I would ever return is if they bulldozed every strip mall, KFC, and condo-community within a 30 mile radius. Even then, I’d still be hesitant. Just imagine Florida, without any and all redeeming qualities. Yuck.
Instead of stopping in Durban, we watched it fly by in the rear-view mirror. We sought refuge within the city of Pietermaritzburg (Pieterma-what?) for a few days. I was feeling a little under the weather, but doing my best to hold it together. Who needs Day-Quill when you can have a comfortable bed and satellite television?
Showing signs of improvement, we made our way to the Sani Pass within the Southern Drakensburg area, bordering Lesotho. As you can imagine, our Polo was no match for the pass – we attempted it, but quickly turned around and setup camp at the Sani Lodge, nestled along the foothills. The area is beautiful, but the peaks played hide-and-seek due to the weather and low cloud cover. Timing is everything and ours is perpetually off – what can you do?”
Leslie Peralta, “Southern Drakensberg” — Soledad: Notes From My Travels
“We swapped southern for central, as we weaved our way to the tiny town of Winterton. Showing signs of improvement, we ventured into the Champagne Valley for a short stroll near Monks Cowl. The area is breathtakingly beautiful and home to an extensive network of trails. Unfortunately, the weather was dreary, so we kept it simple, sticking to the lower portion of the park. As we made our way out, the rain swept in, and lightning let loose – it was quite the display.
Next on the list was Royal Natal National Park, farther north. With the sun attempting to shine, we managed to stretch our legs and hit some trails, spending a lovely day hiking to a waterfall. The previous rains kept most away, so we took our time, enjoying the scenery, snapping photos and splashing around.
After a few nights in the area, we continued north towards Tugela Falls. It is said to be the second highest falls in the world and a spectacular sight during the rainy season. After inquiring about road conditions and camping accommodations at a nearby hotel, we were told to proceed to the Sentinel car park, where we could stay in a hut at the trailhead. This seemed like our best option, as it would allow us an early start for the full day hike atop the amphitheater, along the escarpment, and up the chain ladders to the summit.
Sadly, my knowledge of the falls is limited to Wikipedia and the friendly folks on Flikr. We tried and failed – miserably. Looking back, I’m guessing the lady behind the front desk didn’t catch the part about our car being 2WD. That or she had never actually driven up the road herself, because if she had, there is no way she would ever recommend it. Nope. No way, no how.
After navigating the rocky terrain for several kilometers, we accepted defeat and turned around. The Polo was a trooper, but our anxiety levels were rising with every scrape, screech, and thump, along the bottom. With limited signs of life, receiving any kind of help, should we need it, seemed more like wishful thinking than reality. It’s a shame, because the area is simply stunning. The jagged peaks and vibrant shades of green are enough to make you stop and stare for hours… if only we had that kind of time.”
Leslie Peralta, “Pushing Our Polo Once More (Central & Northern Drakensberg)” — Soledad: Notes From My Travels