We left Halls County House at 5am the day after Christmas, despite a futile plea from Janette for a couple of "real Americans" to try her breakfast hash browns. Despite her disappointment at our outright refusal, like a good host, she came out to say goodbye the next morning and wish us a safe trip before we got in the car and drove away never to return. Ah, nothing like the smell of a cigarette-soaked bathrobe in the morning. (What is an un-real American, I wondered as we drove away).
Lesotho
On this day we were on our way to Lesotho, a country completely surrounded by South Africa.
We were going there by way of Sani Pass. The road through Sani Pass is quite possibly the worst road in the world. I wouldn't even call it a road. More like a steep, rocky foot path that has been slightly widened. This is, in fact, what it is. This "road" climbs about 1000 meters in 8 kilometers. Somebody with lots of power in SA has deemed this road drivable only by 4X4 vehicles. (Aside: My favorite part about this sign is the double negative: "no vehicle that is not equipped..." Classic.)
We do not own a 4x4 vehicle. As noted previously, we own a VW Polo Classic with a 4-inch clearance. We drove said Polo to the police/border post where they exit stamp your passport and ask you a bunch of questions. The answers to these questions don't seem especially interesting to them. Kind of like an international DMV. So, how were we going to get up the pass? On our bikes, of course. It was a great idea. After being in the car for so long, I suggested it would be nice to "stretch our legs a bit". Right? Yes...sort of. The first bit started out fine. We were ready with positive attitudes, plenty of leg strength, oodles of time before the Lesotho border post closed, and a blinding ignorance of what lay ahead. Incidentally, this is what lay ahead: 
Probably best we didn't know that at the time. Let's go! 
About 1 km into the ride, the road got very steep, very uneven, and very slow-going. As 4x4 trucks passed us, the people inside inevitably stopped to (1) gawk ("Hey, somebody is biking up this! What?!? Where?!? Why?") and (2) cheer ("Hey, lookin' good! Almost there!"). Note: Please do not tell people who are biking up 8 kms of steep, rocky, wet terrain that they are "almost there" when they are not almost there. This sort of sadistic, twisted humor is not funny. Over the next 2 to 3 hours, the weather turned sour and our legs got tired. Oh yeah, this was turning out to be a great idea. But, eventually we made it. 
This was the third attempt to get Neil to fain elation at the top of the pass, but for some reason he couldn't muster up the energy to smile. 
Then, just as we topped the pass the sun pierced through the clouds to reveal the mark of humankind, i.e., the Lesotho border post and few scatters huts. 
Now we just had to find our way to the Sani Top Chalet. This wasn't too difficult since it was the largest structure atop the mountain and considerably nicer than the surrounding Basutan huts. 
What awaited us inside was the "Highest Pub in Africa". 
This would have been a most welcome sight if we (1) drank alcohol, (2) enjoyed the overly-chatty pub atmosphere, and (3) weren't more interested in finding a portion of the floor to lay down on and sleep for the next 12 hours. 
We barely maintained consciousness throughout dinner. OK, so I fell asleep over my vegetable soup (so warm and delicious!) while Neil made friends with strangers who asked if I was feeling alright. "Yeah, she's fine...I think. Just tired. She made us bike up the pass." "That was you? You two are nuts!" At this point, I was less interested in defending my actions than I was in locating a bed for the night. So, I let the attack on my sanity slide. Had we played our cards right (i.e., not been such penny-pinchers), we could have stayed in one of these luxury chalets complete with sheepskin rugs, wood-burning fireplaces, en-suite showers, and king-size beds.
Instead, we bedded down in the backpackers lodgings.
Complete with cement floors, picnic tables, 
shared bathroom,
and a shower that looks like it could be the main attraction in an "Atrocities of Our Time" exhibit. "But it's cheap...But it's cheap..." became my new mantra for the next two days. Besides, we wouldn't see any of this while we were asleep. 
The next day was incredible. On advice of the Sani Top Chalet owner, Greg, we got up at the crack of dawn (3:45am) to watch the sunrise. (Not such an amazing feat when you consider the fact that we were asleep by 7:30pm the night before.) 
The rest of the morning brought with it some light reading, 
travel documentation, 
and bird watching from the Sani Top porch overlooking the Sani Pass. 
After enjoying a relaxing and hearty breakfast at the pub's dining hall 
we headed out on a hike to Thabana-Ntlenyana - the highest point in Southern Africa. Luckily, the night before, Neil had arranged for a local guide, Adolf, to show us the way. He also arranged for a family from Cape Town to join us. (Boy, a lot can happen when you're sleeping over soup.) It felt as though this hike took us all over the mountains of northeastern Lesotho. 
Across rivers, 
along ridges, 
through soggy meadows, 
(with the occasional break for introspection and mediation) 
past blanket-wrapped shepards and their flocks of sheep and goats, 
all the way to the top... (hmm, this looks much more dramatic in person)... 
where you brace yourself for a stunning 360-degree view...and a constant, strong wind. 
Whew, that was fun! What's that? We have to go all the way back? Oh boy...
