IN Africa, rain is a blessing. In the Richterveld National Park, the 36 hours of almost non-stop rain we weathered there in September 1999 was nothing short of miraculous.
You see the Richtersveld is a mountain desert and the only true desert within South Africa’s borders. It receives a paltry average of about 70mm of rain every year.
In some years it receives no rain at all. Bounteous rain in this arid land is therefore a cause for wonder.
It was our first visit to the national park and we came prepared for plenty of hot dry weather. When we booked in at Sendlingsdrift the park was living up to its harsh desert reputation. It was a scorcher of a day.
The rocky roads and mountain passes in the Richtersveld are challenging, so we took our time, enjoying the dramatic scenery and the fascinating desert vegetation along the way.
We stopped to take a look at the Potjiespram campsites then headed for De Hoop camping area, alongside the Orange River, where we would spend our first night in the park.
Travelling there we came across a Nama shepherd with his flocks of goats, a strange sight in a game reserve.
Proclaimed in 1991, the Richtersveld National Park is jointly managed as a contractual park by South African National Parks and the local Nama people.
It is unique in that controlled grazing of stock is allowed within its borders. In this way, the park conserves the traditional way of life of the descendants of the pastoralists who arrived in South Africa from Botswana some 2 000 yearsago.
By the time we reached De Hoop, a chilly little wind had picked up and the weather had turned surprisingly cool.
Next morning, the mercury had plunged even further and while we were packing up to go to the next riverside camping area, the Richtersbrg, there was a splattering of rain.
The rain followed us as we wended our way along the rocky road to the Richtersberg camping area. So did the cold.
When we stopped to take photographs at the top of a pass we hastily dived back into the cab of our bakkie in search of warm jackets.
It was absolutely freezing out there.
By the time we set up our next camp in a sheltered spot near the river, it was raining in earnest and the wind was icy cold.
Out came all out winter woollies and we hastily put up the awning attached to our vehicle.
We used a square of canvas, tied to the awning to protect us from the biting wind and driving rain and soon we had a cosy little shelter.
Reasonably dry and warm, we spent a restful afternoon reading, watching the rain and fending off the charming little avian thieves who mobbed us any time bread or tomatoes appeared on our camp table.
The bird life along the Orange River banks, a green corridor through the dry desert, was absolutely amazing.
Later, the rain eased off a little and we went for a drive. We came across a Nama shepherd and his wife, sheltering from the rain in their bakkie.
They were thrilled with the rain and were quite happy to spend the day in the bakkie cab, watching the rain and solving the world’s problems.
The shepherd told us he and his wife had been praying for rain. There were two-year-olds living in the park who had never seen rain, he said.
As we drove back to our campsite Bill and I agreed that the discomfort was a small price to pay for the privilege of experiencing the miracle of rain in the desert.
It was only drizzling when we got back to camp and we were able to have a pleasant braai, huddled in the little shelter we had erected.
It was still bitterly cold so we retired early to our warm, comfy rooftop tent.
Soon after dark the wind increased and the rain started bucketing down again. It rattled our rooftop tent and shook our awning about.
Fearing the awning would be damaged, we braved the cold and pouring rain to climb back down and pack it away.
Wet and shivering we hurried back to bed where we eventually managed to enjoy a peaceful night.
It was still raining the next morning. In those days the camping areas offered absolutely no facilities (park authorities have since built ablution blocks) so we had a very cold, very quick, river-water bucket bath before packing up camp and heading to Kokerboomkloof, an inland camping area.
It was an incredibly scenic drive there via the amazing Springbokvlakte, flat plains surrounded by jagged mountains. Already, the vegetation seemed greener than when we arrived.
We took the long, scenic route to Kokerboomkloof and the rain had stopped by the time we got there.
However, it was still freezing, so we set up camp in a sheltered nook between granite outcrops.
Since that first visit, Kokerboomkloof has been our favourite campsite, although we do enjoy staying at the riverside ones, too.
Kokerboomkloof, with its sculptured sandstone shapes and boulders and the surrounding kokerboom-dotted plains, is too beautiful for words.
In spite of the cold, we enjoyed our last evening in the park. We found a lovely sheltered nook where we made a fire and cooked a big potjie, which we later washed down with gluwein.
Once again, it was early to bed and we enjoyed a restful night.
We packed up and left early next morning, heading back over the planes to the gate via the De Koei area.
The sun was shining brightly and the wind had abated, so we stopped regularly to walk in the veld and admire the rain-washed vegetation.
After the downpour the desert was in a celebratory mood and you could almost hear the plants growing.
We’ve been back to the Richterveld since then and have experienced plenty of the hot, dry weather we were expecting on our first visit.
However, I will never forget the miracle of desert rain.
