We got up bright & early and got on the trail towards Blyde River Canyon – apparently the third biggest canyon in the world which promised stunning views across the mountain Valley masquerading as the Scottish Highlands. There IS a very Scottish feel to the area because lots of Scots signed up to work in the mines and you can find references to Jock at many places of interest around the area.
We stopped quickly in another little tourist town called Graskop where tourist coaches drop people off in pristine safari type clothes with cameras round their necks so they can buy African arts & crafts before getting back on the bus. We had a breakfast of pancakes – big in the area probably because of the Dutch influence – and then started the trail up the canyon road. It was largely deserted. We got the impression we were the only people travelling around independently which is nice in one way because you get places to yourself but on the other hand it’s a bit sad if it’s because people can’t be bothered to physically go and see things of natural beauty anymore. It’s really not expensive to travel around and stay in South Africa – maybe it’s its reputation of not being safe. I can see the razor wire everywhere around white land owners’ properties, but I haven’t seen or felt any signs of danger yet.
It was a beautiful, scenic delight driving up through the canyon roads, stopping at various view points along the way, getting the chance to trail through some African rainforest, wondering at the birds, monkeys, chameleons and other assorted wildlife, gazing in awe at the rich, velvet red soil underfoot, peering into the ravine where the canyon begins its journey, then following the river trail up into the mountains which are carved and sliced straight through the middle by the force of water and nature.
The view point reaches its crescendo at the top of the trail with a breathtaking leap down into the gorge where a lake sits serenely at the foot of the canyon worshipping
Three Rondavels – massive rounds of rock with grassy tops. If you ever fancy having your breath taken away, do pop along one day and have a look. It’s an amazing natural wonder which leaves you feeling quite insignificant and small. I quite like that in a landscape.
We completed a loop with a quiz stop off in tacky, touristy Pilgrims Rest. Don’t go there – no, literally, don’t go there – and dodged the pot holes back to Sabie where we had a meal in The Wild Fig Tree. Simon enjoyed a Springbok Shank and I feasted on crocodile and warthog kebabs with Impala carpaccio… All the animals we were hoping to see alive at the Kruger National Park the next day and where we could really feast our eyes on some wildlife,
In the meantime we went back to the 70s as a magnificent storm blew in with forked lightning cracking overhead, rain driving against the car windscreen and the wind scattering leaves and trees around. I moved a tree branch from the road on the approach to the 70s Lodge and we bedded down for an early drive into Kruger.
I wondered if it would be anything like West Midland Safari Park…
Mags Winthrop Blog 