Drakensberg Weekend 2

This weekend eight of us went up to Sani Pass in the Southern Drakensberg on the border of Lesotho (pronounced le-su-tu). We drove up Friday after class so that we could be there early Saturday for our tour. We drove almost entirely in the dark (and fog at some points) so we had no idea what the scenery was like until the next morning. Many people walk along the roads and highways in South Africa even at night, so we had to drive especially carefully because every so often it seemed like a person would just pop up at side of the road. When we got to Underberg (the last town before Sani Pass) at about 8pm everything was closed except for the gas station so we made a dinner out of chips and ice cream. Finally we made it to the backpackers, Sani Lodge, which is definitely much more like a hostel than Inkosana Lodge, the last place we stayed which is more resort-y. In the morning we had breakfast with five other American girls in our EAP/Rutgers program who incidentally came to the same backpackers on the same weekend.

After breakfast we started our tour by 4x4 up to Sani Pass and over the South Africa-Lesotho border. The lodge we stayed at is located about 20km from the border. The pass is only accessible by 4x4 on a dirt road, so we got to ride in one of those crazy Indiana Jones-ish Land Rovers. Into the Land Rover we squeezed the eight of us, our guide, and Sarah from Sweden who is traveling in South Africa for five weeks on her own. Since Sani Pass is the only border crossing for hundreds of kilometers, there are even special 4x4 minibus taxis that make the journey a few times a day. Lesotho is an independent kingdom situated on a high plateau entirely surrounded by South Africa, so it is very dependent on South Africa for resources not available within its own borders, which is a lot. We stopped at a now abandoned trading post built by some British in the early 20th century. At that time, and up through the 1970s, Basotho shepherds would come down the pass (a journey that took between five days and three weeks) with wool or mohair (primary exports of Lesotho) to trade for just about anything. Now the pass is accessible to certain kinds of big trucks, so the shepherds no longer have to come down the mountain by foot with their animals. Along the way we took a drink at the "Fountain of Youth," saw some baboons, and made some other random stops because it didn't take long for our guide to realize that Amir is crazy and has lots of schpilkus (for example, we stopped so that Amir could get out and break an invasive tree). We were lucky to have a clear sunny day, so the scenery was stunning. In that area, South Africa and Lesotho are separated by a watershed boundary. Basically, whatever rain falls in Lesotho eventually flows to the Orange River which flows to the Atlantic Ocean, and the rain that flows to the Indian Ocean is in South Africa. Or as our guide put it, if you pee off the cliff, you are peeing into South Africa. After many hairpin turns and a stop at the border post, where Lauren got hit on by the border police, probably because few black women come through that border as tourists, we made it to Lesotho (I now have stamps from three continents on one page of my passport!). Besides the schnazzy Sani Top Chalet with its "Highest Pub in Africa," entering Lesotho was like stepping into a time machine. The difficult border crossing has left Lesotho very much isolated from the western world, unlike the cities of South Africa. The part of Lesotho that we saw is very rural and looks more like what many people imagine when they think of Africa. Most Basothos (in the rural area, I should point out--there is an urban city on the other side of the country) live in rondavels (thatched-roof huts) with no electricity or running water. It is above timber line, so there are no trees growing up there. Instead, people use a type of weed and cow dung for fuel. Almost all boys become shepherds around the age of 13 (sometimes as young as 9). They all dress similarly with a wool blanket and some sort of cap--sometimes from animal skin or embellished with feathers. As we rode along, some small children would run up to the vehicle asking for sweets. Because most people use horses for transportation, most of the vehicles that go by are filled with tourists. Our guide discouraged us from giving them things unless we took a picture of them (in which case there would be an exchange) because just giving aid when a person can help themself creates a culture of expectation. So we didn't give away any money or cookies, but we did exchange some apples for pictures. After another stop in which Amir got out to run uphill alongside the car at over 10,000-foot altitude (crazy), we stopped for lunch and a few of us hiked up the hill so that we could view the highest point south of Mt. Kilimanjaro. It was maybe only a quarter-mile walk with a gentle incline, but at the top my lungs felt like I had just sprinted a mile. While stopped for lunch, Lauren received marriage proposals from two shepherds (she was very popular that day). One of them even thought that she was Zulu and was trying to speak to her in Zulu. On the way back we stopped at the home of a woman who runs a little shop out of her rondavel. There we got to try some bread baked in a pot over a cow dung fire (very good actually) and some beer made from maize and sorghum that is fermented for a couple days. The woman has a cute two-year-old daughter who is used to having tourists around so she is very photogenic. Her other five children are away at boarding school, the youngest of which is five. As we were getting back in the vehicle there were some shepherds nearby trying to sell us fish. Instead, Lauren bought a crazy woven hat right off the head of one of them. Apparently the grass used is readily available so they can go home and make another one easily enough. We then had a quick stop at the "Highest [Commercial] Pub in Africa" before heading back down the hill so that we would make it back into South Africa before the border closed at 4pm (we made it with about two minutes to spare). On the way back we saw some more baboons and some cool eagles and vultures. Even though we weren't walking around much we were all exhausted from the day and had a relaxed evening at the lodge.

The next morning after breakfast, I went on a hike up to a nearby ridge with Jacob, Amir, and Stina from Norway. The rest of the girls went straight to a waterfall down the road. The hike was pretty short (about an hour) but had a good bit of elevation change so it was a good workout. It was also very steep coming back down so my thighs are quite sore right now. From there we walked onto the property of the Sani Pass Hotel which provides access to the waterfall. We all agreed that the hotel reminded us of stereotypical images of apartheid: a bunch of white people lounging by a nice pool, hotel rooms with thatched roofs to remind you you're in Africa, and black workers in the background taking care of the grounds. I'm happy to say that most of South Africa does not provide this image anymore. We finally got to the waterfall, which was about 25 feet high and gushed into a deep pool below. The rest of our group were relaxing on the rocks to the side of the pool when we got there. To get down to those rocks we had to walk a few hundred feet downstream and climb down the hill a bit. I then took off my shoes and left my pack at the edge of the stream (which I'm glad I did because I slipped a couple times). To get back to the waterfall I had to walk barefoot along the slippery, rocky stream, climb over some boulders, and finally swim about 20 feet. A couple people tried swimming under the waterfall, but it was very powerful. Amir stayed in the water too long and got, what seemed to be, some hypothermia because he had trouble getting back. Luckily he quickly recovered after a few minutes out of the water. Climbing over the rocks was definitely more challenging for me than the steep hike earlier in the morning. Aside from lingering worries of contracting schistosomiasis, swimming to the waterfall was overall a great experience and once again tested my strengths. After walking back to the lodge, five of us headed back to PMB, while the other three and Sarah stayed back to go horse riding. This trip to the Drakensberg was very different from the one taken two weeks earlier, so it is impossible to compare the two. Both have been amazing experiences that I would recommend to anyone looking for some adventure.