Day Nine: Where it ends and where it begins

I'll never forget the first time I saw Dingane's royal capital in a book from the the Voortrekker Monument in Pretoria: over 1700 huts and over 7500 people, all under his rule on the hill at Mgungundlovu.

It is in the bumpy hills of the Emakhosini Valley and it is a piece of land this country has managed to keep sacred. And by piece I don't mean farm. It's quite a drive from where I was staying but the fluffy green hills and quick glimpse of the ocean made it all worth it.

There is a multi-media center at Mgungundlovu which at first I was hesitant to visit but later very grateful for because it gave me a new insight into the Zulu culture and the beautifully rich history of this area. My tour guide Jabu Maqwase was, similar to me, at first hesitant to let me 'in' but then later warmed up to me as she listened to my story. The multi-media center is very cool, and gives a very interesting way to learn about history as opposed to your run of the mill museum, but I'm not going to go into detail about it because it's much prettier outside.

Although Dingane's kraal was burned to the ground, archaeologists have managed to reconstruct some of the huts. The whole place is so cleverly designed with the King's hut (10m in diameter) sitting at the top of the hill overlooking all the other huts, and the entrance towards the bottom of the hill. And the views from up there! I had such a special moment, with Jabu by my side, just realising where I was and how I had managed to trek all the way from Grahamstown to this spot just to feel the moment of clarity I felt right then and there. It was beautiful.

Across from Dingane's kraal is the Hill of Execution where, apparently, Retief and his men were dragged to and killed. There is a monument built there with the names of all those who died as well as grave for Retief. Whether it's real or not I don't know, but seeing it, and realising just how far he had to travel in order to get land, helped me get some closure as to how far I have trekked to understand my land. To learn about my history. About my identity. About my country.

I can officially say, that I am a proud Afrikaner, but my travels are far from over and my search for an answer about who I am will probably never be found. And I am okay with that. Because now I am happy, and the empty space in my heart is filled with all the beauty, kindness, interest, love, care, enthusiasm, and joy I have seen over the last few days.

Almost there, Emakhosini Valley, KwaZulu-Natal. 2013.

Some of the reconstructed huts in Dingane's royal kraal, Mgungungdlovu,

Emakhosini Valley, KwaZulu-Natal. 2013.

Piet Retief's grave at the Hill of Execution, Emakhosini Valley, KwaZulu-Natal. 2013.

Monument in honour of Retief and the men killed by Dingane and his tribe,

Emakhosini Valley, KwaZulu-Natal.2013.

Day Eight: Dodgy backpacking and vintage shopping

Last night was an interesting one for this confused traveller. After a free filter coffee from the Ultra-Stop in the Midlands I took out my little backpacker boekie and searched for a backpackers in Pietermaritzburg. Called them, and although the lady who answered the phone did not sound enthusiastic at all, and although my gut told me not to, I booked a room.

Eish.

This was my first time in a backpackers and I don’t know if all backpackers are like this but I am definitely not going back. Not alone anyways. I had a private room in the house, luckily, as there were seven or eight other people there too, half of them construction workers, two from Holland, and another few who I did not speak to. There was one bathroom with a toilet and one with a shower. The shower room was so small that you can’t have both the shower door and the door to the room open, so you basically have to get in the shower, close the main door and then close the shower door. It was awkward. There were pubes on the bathroom floor and men’s underwear hanging in both the bathrooms. OH EM GEE. Guess I had to experience it at some point. Oh ja, AND my room didn't have a key so I couldn't lock it. Needless to say my pepper spray was close at hand all night.

Anyways, creepy evening aside, I spent the morning in the Voortrekker Museum in town and learned a few new things about my man Retief and his Trekkers. For example, Pietermaritzburg is named after Voortrekker leaders Piet Retief and Gerrit Maritz and it was established as a township by March 1939. Also, the Voortrekkers used herbs and other natural medicines to heal the sick among them and each house had a ‘Huis Apoteek’ (home pharmacy) which had mostly Lennon’s pharmaceutical products. I totally rely on Lennon’s. The bergamot essence apparently makes your hair grow quicker.

The best part of the day was meeting up with a friend from Durban. It was soooo good to see a familiar face again and to be pulled back out of the travel haze I have been living in. Thank you Lauren! We did some vintage clothes shopping as well and I am now the proud owner of two new lovely items. Thank you Lauren!

Tonight I am in a very shmancy BnB in the beautiful Hilton and tomorrow I am hopefully heading to uMgungundlovu- the secret conclave of the elephant. It is where King Dingane’s kraal was and also where Retief’s gravesite is. My trek is nearing its end physically but emotionally and spiritually it will live on forever. There’s some yummy cheese for you to enjoy on this lovely Wednesday evening. 

Voortrekker/Msunduzi Museum, Pietermaritzburg, KwaZulu-Natal. 2013.

Church of the Vow. This church was built in commemoration of the vow made by the Trekkers before the Battle of Bloodriver, Pietermaritzburg, KwaZulu-Natal. 2013. 

Piet Retief as he came over the Drakensburg. Statue is in the Voortrekker Complex, Pietermaritzburg, KwaZulu-Natal. 2013.

Frankie and I outside a charity shop in Pietermaritzburg. Big smile after a good day :)

Day Seven: Graffiti, dirt, and dust

How Frankie has not signed for a divorce yet I don’t know. Today we had another dirt and pothole road adventure through the mountains. One of the things I did actually plan for this trip was to see a painting on a rock face at the foot of the Kerkenberg done by Piet Retief’s daughter, Deborah. The painting, well more like graffiti, is still there today and is of Piet’s name and the date of his birthday which was when Debs painted it.

Frankie barely made it up those mountains so I have no idea how the trekkers got up with there with their ‘home on wheels’. Once you eventually get up there, though, it is one of the most spectacular feelings you will ever feel. The Kerkenberg mountain stands proudly above you, so mighty, so powerful, and in the opposite direction are other smallish mountains, part of the Drakensburg I presume, which all surrounded by the vast open veld. Beautiful doesn't describe it. It’s more than beautiful. It’s unreal. I sat there for a while and ate my packed salad bun and wondered what the Trekkers did when they camped up here.

On my way to the klip, which by the way has no signs from the road telling you where it is, you literally have to take that random dirt road that leads up the mountain and hope that you are going the right way. While searching for the klip I found a huge sea of water called  the Sterkfontein Dam and right then and there I wished I had a group of friends and some food because it makes for the perfect picnic spot. On the one side you have a view of the Drakensburg and the other is of the hills and veld areas alongside the R57. It’s so peaceful J

Anyway, I know I originally said that my trek was ending in Pietermaritzburg, which is where I am now, but it is not done just yet. I still have a few more things to see, photos to take and stories to share. So keep reading. Prease :p 

The turn-off to the BnB I stayed at in Bethlehem, Free State. 2013.

On a random dirt road waving to my only friend- myself (haha). Somewhere

in the Free State. 2013.

Sterkfontein Dam, Free State. 2013. 

Dassie on a rock at Sterkfontein Dam, Free State. 2013.

Somewhere close to Bergville, Free State. 2013.

Pretty-ness, Free State. 2013.

At the Retief Klip, foot of the Kerkenberg, Drakensburg. 2013.

South Africa's first graffiti. Not really. Retief Klip, Drakensburg. 2013.

Kerkenberg, Drakensburg. 2013.

One of the 'koppies' you can see from Retief Klip, Drakensburg. 2013

Day Six: Feeling lonely in the Free State

Today was the first day of my trek that I felt lonely, tired, unenthusiastic, and just, bleh. I don’t know whether it’s because the two days off were too good or because I am feeling too much pressure, but it wasn't nice. Actually, no. The only part that wasn't nice was Winburg. That place just gave me the heebie geebies.

Winburg is a small town about 110 kms from Bloemfontein. It was important for my journey because this is where all the Voortrekkers met before splitting the land North of the Orange River between the five leaders (Gert Maritz, Louis Trichardt, Hendrik Potgieter, Pieter Uys and Pieter Retief). It is also where the Voortrekker Monument was originally meant to be built before it was ‘given’ to Pretoria. Lucky for me, a second monument was built in Winburg in commemoration of the Voortrekkers.

The symbolism of the monument is explained on a plaque inside: “The five columns symbolise the treks of the above-mentioned leaders. The lines extending skywards suggest the drive, struggle and restlessness of the Trek. The grouping symbolises the law-abiding community as well as the wagon laager and the concave shape depicts the wagon. The upward sweeping horns suggest not only the ox but the surge forward and upwards towards the higher ideals of independence and freedom.

The water bowl, linking the columns with five chutes, symbolises the faith of the Trekkers, and the outward flow of the water the spreading of the Christian religion and civilisation. Through the opening in the water bowl light from above falls on the bronze plaque in the courtyard, symbolic of the divine light.”

Pretty interesting, right? So why did this place make me feel weird? Honestly, I think it’s because the eyes of the people that I spoke to were just too blue to be normal. Like a see-through blue. It was creepy. And Natasha from the Winburg Guesthouse, who I chatted to in the hopes of learning something Trek-wise, freaked me out by telling me how she really doesn't enjoy living there. It’s really a case of ‘klein-dorpie syndroom’ (small town syndrome) and if you look out your window the whole town will know because that’s how small it is. It sounds silly, but my instinct told me ‘no ways dude, get out of here.’

So I did. And now I am in a weird BnB in Bethlehem praying for tomorrow. Okay, it’s not that bad. It’s just not as great as the previous few days. Luckily a wise and very handsome man said to me that it can’t always be awesome because then there would be no balance. Thank you Keenman. 

Voortrekker Monument, Winburg, Free State. 2013.

Voortrekker Monument, Winburg, Free State. 2013.

Looking up from inside the Voortrekker Monument, Winburg, Free State. 2013.

Retief's column of the Voortrekker Monument, Winburg, Free State. 2013.

Voortrekker Street, Winburg, Free State. 2013.

Day four & five: Platteland love

This morning I went for a jog on a farm just outside Bloemfontein and almost an hour ago I watched the sunset over this same farm. I love how when the yellow ball of life fades away everything changes: the sky swaps its golden glow for a modest pink and young blue. The time between the exit of the sun and the arrival of the moon is a special time, especially when you’re away from daily distractions such as television, internet, whatsapp, etc. There is an almost eerie kind of calmness in the air and only the sound of nature and cars in the distance can be heard. Ah, the wonders of the platteland!

I ran out of airtime and data last night so I took advantage of the being-in-the-middle-of-nowhere-ness. I retreated yesterday to PlaasCottage, a self-catering flat on a farm just outside Bloem and this is my second night here. It’s exactly what I needed after the busyness of the previous few days. We have a first draft of our article due tomorrow so I wanted to spend some time writing. And boy have I been writing!

I had lunch yesterday had an amazeballs place in Bloem called Oliewenhuis. It is an art gallery with a restaurant and has a place for picnicking as well as walking trails. How great? After filling up my tank I went on one of the walking trails, and although it wasn’t very exciting it was still nice to get my legs moving. Just outside the restaurant, in the ‘garden’ of the museum if you will, as well as in the picnic area, are sculptures by various artists as well as a carousel with sculptures on which you can ride. Haha, I totally went on it. People looked at me funny but I don’t care. Apparently the carousel was built to raise awareness for art in the country. I can’t really remember what the sign said because I was too interested in getting my money to the carousel man and getting on the strange looking horse thing.

The best thing about the art gallery, for me, was the sculptures of the sheep in the ‘garden’. There’s nothing particularly special about them... except for the fact that they were made by Wilma Cruise whose exhibition at the National Arts Festival this year unlocked my love for art! It was like seeing a new friend who I am really interested in getting to know but haven’t had the time to yet. Ah, Wilma Cruise makes amazing stuff.

In the afternoon I had an interview with a former Professor of Environmental Management and then I headed to this little piece of paradise where I am now. 

I am starting to get a clearer grasp on what it means to be an Afrikaner and also how the Great Trek implicated the rest of South Africa. Only starting though, I still have lots to learn and routes to follow. Till next time, au revoir!

Wilma Cruise's sheep sculptures at Oliewenhuis, Bloemfontein, Free State. 2013.

Jacob Mofammene guards the carousel on the weekends and works at the National Museum during the week. He can speak five of the official South African languages, Oliewenhuis,

Bloemfontein, Free State. 2013. 

Hoendie, the just one of the many residents at Plaas Cottage, Bloemfontein,

Free State. 2013.

An ostrich which didn't seem to like me at all, Plaas Cottage, Bloemfontein,

Free State. 2013.

Me trying to be creative, Plaas Cottage, Bloemfontein, Free State. 2013.

The only sheep that didn't run away when I approached the fence, Plaas Cottage, Bloemfontein,

Free State. 2013.

All from Plaas Cottage, Bloemfontein, Free State. 2013.

Day Three: Hello Free-State!

Every morning when I get in my car and hit the road, my head is a big melkskommel of stress, fear, doubt, and overwhelming uneasiness. I stress about how I am going to write my story, how I am going to find people to talk to, how not to get fat, etc. It lasts for about an hour and then the road sends a natural calmness over me. The road and the absolute beauty of our country.

After a not-so-healthy Wimpy breakfast in Queenstown I left for Burgersdorp to meet the van Schalkwyks. Philip van Schalkwyk and his wife (whose name I can't remember) work at Alberts Butchery on the Molteno Road. They did not have much to tell me so they sent me to the local museum where I was taken on a tour by Dalene Bredenkamp. Dalene is a born and bred Burgersdorpian and has worked as a secretary at the museum for 20 years. She also doesn't know much about the Great Trek but she took me outside to the back of the museum to show me a real ox-wagon. It is huge! I honestly don't know how the heck those voortrekkers managed up and down the rocky slopes of the Drakensberg and other mountains with such long vehicles! Strong and determined people they were.

I had lunch at a very cute coffee shop about 10m from the museum called Hagenhuis Coffee Shop. They have light meals, drinks, antiques, and crafts. Or what I call 'kakkies': those 'things' you don't need but buy anyways. There isn't a specific 'kakkie' item but I'm sure you'll know it when you see it.

I then drove on to Smithfield, which is about two hours from Burgersdorp (if you drive slowly and take photos of random things like I did), and is also where I am staying tonight (in a lovely Bnb called Bokmakierie Bnb). It's a big house with vibrant colours, a great collection of artworks by the owner himself (and others) as well as a whole lot of interesting looking, for lack of a better word, stuff.

Peter and Linda Retief, the owners, are a pair of wonderful people. They have interesting stories, great backgrounds, and really care about their town. Linda was born in Grahamstown and has lived all over, while Peter was born in Adelaide and also lived all over. Surprisingly, they are not strictly speaking Afrikaans, and Peter, similar to me, has is also confused about whether he is an Afrikaner or not. He believes that Afrikaners are really breaking new ground in music, art, and theatre. Afrikaans artists like Jan Blohm and Valiant Swart are often the inspiration behind his paintings.

I think these Retief's are perhaps famous in the arts world. I don't know. I just get the feeling. Especially because Peter told me that a well-known travel journalist is staying here on Tuesday night. And because he gave me two FREAKING AWESOME 'underground' South African magazines which cannot be bought in a shop, only from a contributing journalist. Hmm, where the hell am I?

I don't really care because I am so happy. And grateful. And I wish I could take out my eye-balls and stick them on here to show the world all they beauty that I have seen in the past three days. Happiness is this.

Side-view of an ox-wagon, Burgersdorp Museum, Burgersdorp, Eastern Cape. 2013

Front of an ox-wagon, Burgersdorp Museum, Burgersdorp, Eastern Cape. 2013.

Back of an ox-wagon, Burgersdorp Museum, Burgersdorp, Eastern Cape. 2013.

Dalene Bredenkamp in front of the Burgersdorp Museum. Dalene has lived in the

town all her life and likes the idea of shopping in a big town but wouldn't

move anywhere else. Burgersdorp, Eastern Cape, 2013.

Hagenhuis Coffee Shop. Burgersdorp, Eastern Cape. 2013.

Reid Street was renamed to Piet Retief Street in 1938 to honour the voortrekker leader

who was killed by Dingane in Natal, Burgersdorp, Eastern Cape. 2013.