A Karoo Odyssey

This article was written in about April 2000, but not published.

One of South Africa’s great natural wonders, the dolorite columns at the Valley of Desolation.

A FOUR-DAY, 1000km round trip through the Karoo left me convinced that the area offers scenery unparalleled anywhere in the world.

And the Valley of Desolation, near Graaff-Reinet, is truly an Eastern Cape tourism treasure.

We left Port Elizabeth in pouring rain and arrived mid-afternoon at the Cradock Spa, with its sulphur springs, just outside the town.

Here we cooled off with a swim in the large outdoor pool, before transferring to the indoor pool – to warm up again.

Scaly-feathered finch

In perfect weather, a braai using the facilities provided at our comfortable, fully furnished – and inexpensive – cottage, enabled us to take in the clear Karoo air. In nearby trees, the unfamiliar (to us) sociable weavers provided ornithological interest, along with a scaly-feathered finch, yellow-throated sparrow and African hoopoe.

Cradock’s main claim to fame is Olive Schreiner, whose book, The Story of an African Farm, was based on her life on a local farm. Olive Schreiner House in Cross Street illustrates her story.

But the dominant sight in the town, towering above other splendid old buildings, many in the Cape Dutch style, is the 1866 Dutch Reformed Church, which is similar in design to St Martin-in-the-Fields, next to the South African High Commission on Trafalgar Square in London.

Unlike its illustrious English counterpart, however, the stone-work on the Cradock church is largely unsullied by pollution.

Mountain zebra magic

Two mountain zebras enjoy the lush veld after rains at the Mountain Zebra National Park.

The next morning we set off early for the Mountain Zebra National Park, just 23km outside Cradock. Dew drops nestling in a myriad spider webs created delicate tracery patterns in fences along the roadside as we approached our destination.

Paying a mere R10 per adult and R5 each for children for a day visit, we first stopped at the information centre to pick up a map of the various drives available. We were also delighted to come across an acacia pied barbet, chirping merrily in a nearby tree.

We essentially wanted to see the famed mountain zebras, which the park saved from virtual extinction after it was established in July 1937, starting with a population of just five stallions and one mare.

Today, thanks to the acquisition of neighbouring farms, and the inclusion of the zebras on them, 200 to 230 mountain zebras populate the park, with about 20 others being translocated annually.

By the early 2000s some 1 100 had been re-established in recognised conservation areas and on private land.

While this is a wonderful conservation success story, the mountain zebra – which is distinguished from the more common Burchell’s zebra by the absence of shadow stripes – remains among the rarest mammals in the world.

The 14,5km Rooiplaat drive, we were informed, was the area where the zebras were most likely to be spotted. A tarred road took us higher and higher up the mountain, offering ever more spectacular views as we navigated between massive boulders.

But no sign of a zebra.

Then, finally, on a vast, pristine grassland plateau, we saw a herd of about half a dozen, grazing peacefully. As we journeyed slowly onwards, many more of these magnificent animals were spotted, along with hordes of springbok, blesbok, black wildebeest – with their ungainly gait – and eland.

We came across a huge red hartebeest dozing in the sun on the side of the road, just metres from our car. As he ambled off, we saw several young springbok perform their unique jumping act, with legs outstretched and heads bowed.

Clapper lark

Among birds spotted in the grass and scrub were sabota and clapper larks and a chestnut-vented titbabbler, while a pallid harrier soared overhead.

Returning to the rest camp, we took a short 30-minute walk during which we got our first sighting of a red-eyed bulbul, among other birds. After a tasty and inexpensive lunch, we headed back to Cradock.

Teebus and Koffiebus

Teebus and Koffiebus, near the farm Spring Valley, west of Steynsburg.

Our next destination was a farm just to the west of Steynsburg, near the northern border of the Eastern Cape.

The farm, Spring Valley, has been in my wife’s family for generations, and driving up from Cradock there is no mistaking your imminent arrival. The harbingers are as large as life and as old as the hills – the adjacent koppies known as Teebus and Koffiebus.

But things were different in the Karoo this time, compared to previous visits. It was already autumn, but the normally arid countryside was a sea of swaying grass. We had to negotiate several pools of water before arriving at the farm, which three months earlier was in the grip of one of the worst droughts in years.

Here our hosts, Bill and Colleen Elliott, provided us with the kind of hospitality for which South African farming families are famous.

Bill drove us around a sheep farm turned into an oasis by the rains.

Ironically, it was two devastating lightning strikes, last December, which initiated the transformation. The first killed a couple of his sheep, while the second struck a tall tree right next to the house, with a huge branch falling harmlessly a few metres from the roof.

From then on, the formerly black-scorched countryside turned an emerald green as the dams filled – and the farmers smiled again.

Bill enlightened us on the various Karoo bushes and grasses which are the staple of his flocks, while also pointing out the spoor of several buck and hare species. Birds spotted included red-billed quelea, common quail and the redheaded finch.

The next day it was time for our odyssey to continue. Our journey west took us between Teebus and Koffiebus and more breathtaking mountainous countryside, to Middelburg, and then south to Graaff-Reinet.

Picking up a local map in the “Gem of the Karoo” – which has more national monuments than any other town in the country – we set off along the edge of the still almost-empty Van Rynevelds Pass Dam. There was no entry fee at the Karoo Nature Reserve entrance to the Valley of Desolation, one of the most impressive natural phenomena in South Africa.

A well-maintained tarred road winds through Karoo vegetation ever upwards – your ears “pop” before you reach the top. For yes, the Valley of Desolation is a misnomer – it is actually at the top of a mountain.

Declared a national monument due to its geological and scientific significance, the valley consists of piled dolerite columns stretching hundreds of metres into the air. A large cluster of these rise from a valley carved out of the top of the mountain by volcanic and erosive forces during the Jurassic Period, between 190- and 150-million years ago.

Spandau Kop

A silhouetted Spandou Kop seen from the Valley of Desolation above Graaff-Reinet.

The first glimpse one gets of the area is from the toposcope look-out point. This offers a panoramic view of the historic town, encircled almost entirely by the Sundays River, with the splendid 1886 Dutch Reformed Church dominating the latticework of roads. To the right, Graaff-Reinet’s most famous landmark, Spandaukop, hogs the skyline, with the plains of the Camdeboo spreading out into the distance.

A row of outjutting crags, which resemble bottom teeth, led to the naming of the awe-inspiring Tantjiesberg, which can be seen in the distance.

A couple of minutes’ drive up from the toposcope, we stopped the car at a parking area and followed a well-laid-out path up to a point overlooking the valley itself. Wow! When you are up there among those dolerite columns, where each precariously balanced boulder must weigh hundreds of tons, you realise just how small and vulnerable we humans are. And children especially.

With that vertigo feeling almost beckoning you to tumble down into the depths below, we had to remain constantly on the look-out for crevices which could gobble up a wayward waif.

Pale-winged starling

While we never saw any of the famed black eagles soaring through the air between the cliffs, we did hear the low bellowing of baboons, and caught sight of flashes of cream on the plumage of pale-winged starlings as they rode the thermals.