Tent Travels: Baviaanskloof – and an abrupt end to road trip

AFTER a fairly long absence, it was was good to be heading back into the Baviaanskloof, the Eastern Cape’s first World Heritage Site and one of South Africa’s most precious natural treasures.

Soon after entering the kloof the windy road squeezed itself between two towering red outcrops of twisted, tortured rock, following the course of a sandy little stream.

It was a perfect spot for a coffee break and a little walkabout to look at the vegetation, the ‘kloof of the baboons’ is one of Mother Nature’s most wonderful rock gardens, the harsh terrain home to an amazing assortment of succulents, aloes and other hardy species.

We were hoping to spend two or three nights in the ‘kloof of the baboons’, a deep ravine sandwiched between the Baviaanskloof and Kouga mountain ranges. It stretches some 250km from Patensie in the east to Willowmore in the west. The entire mega-reserve planning area is about 500 000ha, nearly half of which is under the direct control of Eastern Cape Parks.

This amazing kloof is a patchwork quilt of farmlands, villages and pristine wilderness, of rivers and streams and deep indigo pools, of dramatic mountain passes, craggy mountainsides, ever-changing vegetation, rugged roads and lush green valleys.

The parks board and private landowners in the greater Baviaanskloof area are working together to preserve their precious natural and cultural heritage, helping to pioneer the revolutionary public private approach to conservation that seems to be taking root so well in South Africa. On a previous visit we had spent a night at a lovely campsite on one of the farms whose owners were part of this exciting development and we were hoping to find the guest farm once again.

We planned to enter the pristine wilderness the next day, This is the stunning heart of the kloof where untouched nature reigns supreme. The roller coaster of a road running through the wilderness area – and over some awesome, 4X4 only, mountain passes – is a public thoroughfare, but anyone wanting to overnight or even picnic in this section would need a permit. We’d booked to spend at night at Rooihoek, one of two basic campsites (no showers, no running water, just a couple of long-drop loos) within the wilderness area.

After our tea break we meandered slowly onward through the rugged terrain, the strata at times so warped and twisted it looked as if a giant hand had given the mountains a hearty shove. The ever-changing scenery offered green and pleasant farmlands interspersed with harsh, rocky outcrops. At times the rocky slopes were almost devoid of vegetation. At other times they were awash with flowers.

Eventually, we reached the farm campsite for which we’d been searching and it was even prettier than we remembered. How happy we were to have found it. Quickly, we set up camp, erecting the rooftop tent we use when we are just overnighting, then we went for a lovely walk.

The sun was low in the sky when we returned and I decided to finish preparations for a quick supper before settling down for a sundowner. I’m not quite sure what happened next. Perhaps I was rushing a bit but I suddenly found both my feet entangled in the cord of our camping light. I tripped and fell forward and slightly downhill and I felt my upper arm colliding violently and painfully with the sharp edge of the bakkie’s open door. Ouch! Initially my arm felt numb, but even before the feeling returned and the pain set in I knew this was serious.

If I kept my arm still it wasn’t actually as sore as I would have expected a fracture to be, but looking at its unnatural angle, Bill and I both knew I’d broken my upper arm. My husband is a very down-to-earth, practically minded person who is just amazing in emergencies. After reassuring me and making sure I was comfortable he set about calmly packing up our camp. The farm owners were sympathetic but were rather vague about medical assistance. They didn’t know of any doctors in Uniondale. Their doctor was in far-away Oudtshoorn.

We decided to head to Uniondale to see what assistance we could find there and were advised that our best bet would be the Mediclinic at George. With my arm comfortably and fairly painlessly resting on a pillow we continued on our way over the mountain passes to George, another 110km away. Now that we had a definite plan we were amazingly relaxed, even regretting the fact that night had fallen as we’d travelled part of the route before and knew it was very scenic.

When we reached Mediclinic George we knew we’d made the right decision. The doctors, nursing staff, reception staff and radiologist were all so very concerned and just so nice. I wouldn’t have received more prompt , efficient and kinder treatment anywhere in the world. The upshot was that after receiving expert care and plenty of advice and information about my options, I left the hospital wearing a block of concrete. Actually that is a bit of an exaggeration but the plaster cast wrapped around my upper right arm fracture was truly massive.

Relieved and exhausted after my little misadventure, Bill and I found accommodation in a resort in George where we sadly acknowledged that our road trip had come to an end. We left early next morning and reached our home on the KwaZulu-Natal South Coast not too long after dark.

Our journey had ended but, for me, a new one was just beginning. Up until then I had never really suffered any serious injury or illness and the long, drawn-out healing process, overseen by yet another wonderful doctor, was a journey of life lessons. I am a very impatient person and, boy, a broken arm teaches you patience. I am also not very good at asking for or receiving help or favours and I had to learn how accept, with grace, the assistance and kindness from family, friends and colleagues, on which I was totally dependent.

Bill had the worst of it. He had to acquire cooking skills, act as my chauffeur, take me shopping, help me dress and even wash my hair. You can’t believe how helpless and frustrated I felt at first. However, it soon became obvious to me that there was yet another life lesson to be learnt. Annoyingly every time I felt a little sorry for myself I was never able to wallow in self-pity in peace, for there was always someone worse off than me. A colleague, slightly older than me and single, had also broken her arm. She’d needed surgery and her recovery was much more painful than mine. How she coped without a kind, considerate husband at her constant beck and call, I just don’t know.

All things must pass and – as my kind, wise doctor had assured me it would – my arm healed and my block of cement was eventually removed; in time for Christmas, when I could hug, unimpeded, my two visiting grandchildren.

I’ve often been asked whether the abrupt end to our ‘Filling in the Gaps’ trip didn’t spoil it and this brings to mind one of my brother’s favourite Doctor Seuss quotes: “Don’t cry because its over. Smile because it happened.’

Our ‘filling in the Gaps’ road trip was absolutely wonderful and even if it was shortened a little we’d done and seen so very much and we’d both had so much fun. We had travelled through sections of five of South Africa’s nine provinces, visited countless lovely dorpies, villages and towns and met many charming people. We had enjoyed such diverse and wonderful natural beauty, discovered two lesser-known little provincial game reserves and we’d been privileged to be able to set up our tent in no less than six of the 19 magnificent South African National Parks that our beautiful country boasts.

Once again, we returned home filled with admiration for Sanparks, a truly wonderful organisation. Each of the six parks had something unique and special to offer and all of them were so amazingly well managed. They all offered their guests five star facilities and service and they all left me feeling proudly South African.

Sanparks also managed to round off our ‘Filling in the Gaps’ trip with a rather wonderful postscript. Having to cut our journey short we’d had to miss out on one of our very favourite national parks, the gorgeous Mountain Zebra near Cradock. It was with a heavy heart that Bill telephoned the Sanparks booking office when we got home, to cancel our Mountain Zebra stay. It was just a day before we were due to take up our pre-paid booking, so we didn’t expect any reimbursement.

The Sanparks employee to whom he spoke listened sympathetically.

“Don’t cancel. You’ll lose your money. Just postpone your visit there.”

So that is what we have done. We plan to spend the Easter long weekend at Mountain Zebra, in this way completing our ‘Filling in the Gap’ itinerary, then we’ve booked into Addo Elephant National Park for the next few days, as a ‘Filling in the Gaps’ bonus. I’ll keep you posted!