Since we had some time before we were supposed to check into our next accommodation, we took in a little hike. Our legs were a bit sore by this time (why, I wonder?), so we wanted something mellow. The R10 map we purchased from the curio shop listed one hike called "The Meander"...no serious elevation gain, no boulder jumping, just rolling hills and 360 degree views. Perfect.
Yet again, Drakensburg delivers. This place is fantastic. A hike for everyone and every mood. After this little excursion, it was time to make our way to Halls Country House located along what the SA Tourism Association calls "The Midlands Meander" route. I think they've named the road this because it proceeds by taking a winding or indirect course around the Drakensburg midlands. Plus, it's fun to alliterate. Halls Country House
Four-star restaurant and accommodation. Looks promising!
The view from the front yard was nice. Unfortunately, it was too foggy to see much. But when it's clear, Giants Castle provides a lovely backdrop to this picturesque scene.
Here's a little history: The main house, originally conceived as a "Natal Veranda House", was built in 1904 for the E.A. Thompson, founder and headmaster of Weenen County College. Over the years, most of the verandas have been converted into living spaces. Now the owners call it "farmhouse quirky". Neither of us is sure what exactly that means.We got the Crested Eagle Suite. Very spacious.
So everything seemed nice. Everything on the up and up.But, we were, in short, duped.
One example. Here is how Janette and Brain pitch their place on their website: "Our deep rural setting and spectacular views mean seclusion, tranquility, and nothing more intrusive than the sound of a tractor in the distance or an owl hooting at night." Reality: Neil is awoken at 2am to a woman yelling into her mobile phone outside our "private" entrance. She didn't stop talking until 3am. Neil didn't get back to sleep until 4am. Luckily, his constant pacing up and down the room accompanied by unintelligible (but clearly angered) mutterings didn't keep me awake. Of course, not much usually does.
There is a long, sordid story behind our stay at Halls Country House. One that includes 48 hours of constant regret over not opting for a chalet in Giants Castle when we had the chance.
Suffice it to say that if you like to:
(1) be the only guests at a B&B and receive all of the overbearing attention that is usually distributed across 10 people
(2) be welcomed at the door by massive, white, hairy, playful dogs who have been romping around soggy fields all day
(3) eat dinner for 3 hours late at night while playing the "what America needs to do is _____" game with people who admit (in detail) to hating Muslims and lying to them when they inquire about accommodation to avoid the "hassle" of cooking kosher meals
(4) have cigarette smoke blown in your face by someone who utters "this nicotine addiction is going to kill me one day" every time he leaves the room to get another smoke so he can muster up the energy to answer your seemingly innocuous question: "How far away is Kamberg?"
(5) be in the company of hosts who are tipsy by 5pm and downright stewed by 7pm
(6) have a room that shares a wall with the bar where Brian kicks up the tunes round about 4pm and keeps them coming until well into the evening...yes, even when nobody is in there to listen
(7) be surprised by a bill that itemizes each course you ate for dinner...a dinner which you thought was included in the base rate
then Halls Country House is the getaway destination of your dreams.
Christmas Day
Our dreams were in pieces by the next morning. We felt we ought to do something to salvage the day. It was Christmas, after all.
First off, we drove to Kamberg. This was a slight detour from our plans. But Brian went on and on about its "world-famous San rock art" and the "sheer euphoria" we would certainly experience as we hiked up to the secret caves where these protected, ancient, paintings quietly reside. OK, fine. Sounds good. We're in. It's not that we suddenly became super interested in rock art, but more that we didn't want to have to tell Brian that we didn't take is advice when we had dinner with him that evening. We weren't sure what his reaction would be upon hearing such astounding news. And seeing some rock art could be neat. So, we drove about 2 hours south along the Midlands Meander...and yet another long, dirt road. By this time, I could hear the car groan with every turn of the wheels. Beautiful drive, though.
Let it be known that on Christmas Day the Kamberg Rock Art Center is closed. Tell your friends. We've already told Brian. He was stunned. (Frankly, I was stunned that he was stunned.)No matter. On the drive back from Kamberg we found a lovely little Anglican church and listened to the Christmas Day service.
We arrived a bit late and it was crowded. So, we huddled in the doorway with a group of local latecomers. The service was nice. The choir was hip. Each singer decked out in brightly colored shirts and sunglasses. I think it was the first time we've attended a church service in our hiking clothes. Oddly enough, we fit just fine. It was over too soon. Back to the road.By this time, we were hungry. And we had left early enough from Halls that we'd skipped breakfast. The only plus side of which was not having to digest nicotine-laced eggs. But trying to find a place to eat on Christmas morning in the KwaZulu-Natal midlands is difficult. Then we remembered there is an Ultra City about 1.5 hours north on the N3, one of the few highways in SA. (For those of you not hip to SA jive, an Ultra City is a massive gas station with other little shops connected to it in strip-mall fashion. It is entirely self sufficient. Once you enter, you never have to leave. It has everything...petrol, donuts, hamburgers, bumper cars, toilets, and free parking. If we could somehow manage to dismantle it, transport it to the moon, reassemble it inside something akin to Biosphere2, people could definitely live lunarly for a long, long time...) After scouting out the refreshment situation we decided to take our chances with the mangos we'd had in our cooler since St. Lucia.
Cathedral Peak
By this point, we had decided to re-visit our original plan to see Cathedral Peak, another popular spot in the northern part of Central Drakensburg. The drive was wonderful. We passed hundreds of homes (on lots that could sell for millions of dollars in the U.S) set admit vast, breathtaking landscapes.
Once at Cathedral Peak, our luck started to change. We (OK, I) managed to sweet-talk the guard at the gate who let us in the park despite it's being closed to day visitors like us. I don't know what I said. I don't know what he said either. Let's just chalk it up to a delightful result of a conversation being lost in translation...not an uncommon occurrence around here.So, here is what Cathedral Peak looks like from the top of Tryme Hill:
The little brownish bumps behind Neil in the background is a place called Didima Camp. You can book chalets there...incidentally, another option we could have secured instead of Halls Country House. Now, despite looking at every guesthouse, B&B, and self-catering chalet we passed with the kind of envy you experience when somebody orders a better-looking dish than you at a restaurant you've never patronized before, we had a good day. Seriously, it was fun.
See. Plus, we still had a soothing second-hand cigarette high to look forward to that evening.
