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 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.