Camping in the Berg
Paul and I spent this last weekend in the Berg. We both needed a break and we thought we better do it now before A) the Easter high season kicks in and B) while it is still Summerish and green in the mountains.
So, taking a half-day on Friday, we headed up to the Mahai campsite at Royal Natal, in the Northern Drakensberg. For the record, Royal Natal is closest to the awe-inspiring Amphitheatre range of mountains, as you will see in some of the included pics.
Now I don’t come from a camping tradition. My family is more likely to enjoy a self-catering break down the coast where we just sit on the beach for a week. But camping at Mahai, I can handle. For one thing, going with Paul means super-organisation. Even though we don’t use the electrical camping sites, Kadac gas canisters mean we can cook without a braai, and have bright light in the evenings. More importantly, Mahai campsite has 2 major sells for me: Well-kept ablutions and access to permanently boiling water. A hot shower and a warm drink before bed are two of life’s necessities that I cannot do without.
Anyway, we arrived at the camp just before 5pm on Friday, so that evening was spent setting up our tent and preparing dinner. I am proud to announce that I made the braai, and cooked the meat, entirely by myself. Although, it did turn out to be a rather strange fire in comparison to those made by the Afrikaner men at the other side of the campsite. Although hot, at no point did it ever blaze up in all its flame-filled glory. It was almost possible to cook on it from the outset.
On Saturday morning, in bright sunlight, Paul and I headed off to do the hike to Sunday Falls. On the way we bumped into a large family who were heading the same way so we instead decided to go to the Grotto, where neither of us knew what to expect. It was a strenuous hike, exposed to the sun the whole time, but fortunately the incline was gradual (I especially don’t do well on steep inclines) and the 3 hour hike to the destination was worthwhile. It turned out that the Grotto is essentially a waterfall into a stream protected by overhangs and caves. Paul and I had our lunch there, and filled up our water bottles with ice cold Berg river water. I don’t enjoy water normally, but pure river water is so refreshing. Plus, there’s the appeal of the act of scooping out handfuls of water- it makes you feel closer to nature, and further from 21st century suburbia. The scenery on the alternate route back to camp was also worthwhile.
It really is beautiful up in the Drakensberg. I challenge anyone with a camera not to take at least 1 good photo there.
In the late afternoon Paul and I practiced our stone-skipping on and in the Mahai river. Bright pink legs and hands later, the most I could manage was 2 skips.
Of course, what would a camping trip be without Noelle managing to gouge herself with a knife? I succeeded doing that while cutting up meat for our Saturday evening stew. The sharp steak knife went straight into my left index finger; fortunately not too deeply but still in a well-used enough spot to be annoying.
On Sunday morning, the weather was a bit more iffy. A sudden bit of rain while we were dismantling the tent put Paul on edge. When it comes to putting up and taking down tents, and the maintaining of camping equipment, he has been conditioned by his parents and grandparents to the point of being neurotic. It took some convincing before he was satisfied that we shouldn’t just drive home that morning with everything thrown in the back of the Land Rover.
Fortunately the sun came out, so we did the short hike to Fairy Glen, finding a chameleon along the way (I haven’t seen one of them in years). It was my intention to boulder hop down the little Fairy Glen waterfalls, but at one point, where I was clinging to a ledge and looking down a 3m drop onto rocks, I decided to can the Tomb Raider act and just use the path back to camp.
In the afternoon we splashed around the Mahai river again (it must have been about 15 degrees Celsius) before packing the tent properly and heading home, past assorted little mountain dorpies and farm stalls.
But of course now it’s back to reality, which always sucks. Now to save up R25 000 for a really awesome European vacation next year sometime.
So, taking a half-day on Friday, we headed up to the Mahai campsite at Royal Natal, in the Northern Drakensberg. For the record, Royal Natal is closest to the awe-inspiring Amphitheatre range of mountains, as you will see in some of the included pics.
Now I don’t come from a camping tradition. My family is more likely to enjoy a self-catering break down the coast where we just sit on the beach for a week. But camping at Mahai, I can handle. For one thing, going with Paul means super-organisation. Even though we don’t use the electrical camping sites, Kadac gas canisters mean we can cook without a braai, and have bright light in the evenings. More importantly, Mahai campsite has 2 major sells for me: Well-kept ablutions and access to permanently boiling water. A hot shower and a warm drink before bed are two of life’s necessities that I cannot do without.
Anyway, we arrived at the camp just before 5pm on Friday, so that evening was spent setting up our tent and preparing dinner. I am proud to announce that I made the braai, and cooked the meat, entirely by myself. Although, it did turn out to be a rather strange fire in comparison to those made by the Afrikaner men at the other side of the campsite. Although hot, at no point did it ever blaze up in all its flame-filled glory. It was almost possible to cook on it from the outset.
On Saturday morning, in bright sunlight, Paul and I headed off to do the hike to Sunday Falls. On the way we bumped into a large family who were heading the same way so we instead decided to go to the Grotto, where neither of us knew what to expect. It was a strenuous hike, exposed to the sun the whole time, but fortunately the incline was gradual (I especially don’t do well on steep inclines) and the 3 hour hike to the destination was worthwhile. It turned out that the Grotto is essentially a waterfall into a stream protected by overhangs and caves. Paul and I had our lunch there, and filled up our water bottles with ice cold Berg river water. I don’t enjoy water normally, but pure river water is so refreshing. Plus, there’s the appeal of the act of scooping out handfuls of water- it makes you feel closer to nature, and further from 21st century suburbia. The scenery on the alternate route back to camp was also worthwhile.
It really is beautiful up in the Drakensberg. I challenge anyone with a camera not to take at least 1 good photo there.
In the late afternoon Paul and I practiced our stone-skipping on and in the Mahai river. Bright pink legs and hands later, the most I could manage was 2 skips.
Of course, what would a camping trip be without Noelle managing to gouge herself with a knife? I succeeded doing that while cutting up meat for our Saturday evening stew. The sharp steak knife went straight into my left index finger; fortunately not too deeply but still in a well-used enough spot to be annoying.
On Sunday morning, the weather was a bit more iffy. A sudden bit of rain while we were dismantling the tent put Paul on edge. When it comes to putting up and taking down tents, and the maintaining of camping equipment, he has been conditioned by his parents and grandparents to the point of being neurotic. It took some convincing before he was satisfied that we shouldn’t just drive home that morning with everything thrown in the back of the Land Rover.
Fortunately the sun came out, so we did the short hike to Fairy Glen, finding a chameleon along the way (I haven’t seen one of them in years). It was my intention to boulder hop down the little Fairy Glen waterfalls, but at one point, where I was clinging to a ledge and looking down a 3m drop onto rocks, I decided to can the Tomb Raider act and just use the path back to camp.
In the afternoon we splashed around the Mahai river again (it must have been about 15 degrees Celsius) before packing the tent properly and heading home, past assorted little mountain dorpies and farm stalls.
But of course now it’s back to reality, which always sucks. Now to save up R25 000 for a really awesome European vacation next year sometime.
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