Ponies in Lesotho, Big Hole, Augrabies and on to Kgalagadi.

Augrabies Falls National Park

Ponies in Lesotho, The Big Hole, Augrabies and on to Kalagadi Transfrontier park

14 to 22^nd March 2011

After a fabulous run in the hills and a wealth of game including Eland, we farewell the red cliffs of Golden Gate national Park and arc around the kingdom of Lesotho, to enter via the capital Maseru. The border crossing is a breeze and I have to smile at the official’s total disinterest in the fact that, as a family, we are travelling on passports from three different countries. Maybe this will come back to bite us later though! We avoid Maseru and head instead for Malealea, about an hour towards the foothills of the mountains, where we are welcomed by the “Gates of Paradise Pass” which indeed provides a vista that is a taste of what is to come.

Horse trek in Malealea

Our delightful hosts allow us to camp next to one of the chalets as the campsite is full with “Contiki-type” over-landers and we are able to use all the excellent facilities. This place is a gem, calm, clean and colourful with a local band and choir performing each evening. We waste no time and give in to the girls pleading to go riding and set off on a two day trek the following morning. Our Basutho ponies are perfect with docile temperaments, which makes me feel a little bit happier about cow-girl Zara being on her own. The first descent and river crossing, however, had even Ilda and me gulping back a hint of anxiety, but the girls handled it, like the ponies, in their stride.

Zara with locals on overnight camp

The experience is unforgettable with panoramic views of Drakensberg-type mountains, numerous clear river crossings and lots of opportunity to interact with the locals as we pass through their villages. Sadly my Sotho is limited to “Dumela” which gets us an enthusiastic response anyway. We overnight in a mud hut with the locals and Margot and Zara defy linguistic barriers and are building forts and dams with the local kids in no time at all. A stroll around the village is rich for the cultural experience; an elderly ‘gogo’ inhales vigorously on her snuff and outlines the production process; another ‘mama’ leans over her black pots which steam with delicious concoctions which Margot pleads for instead of our stodge; herd-boys return home with their bell-ringing goats and cows and, while the women labour, the men chatter idly under a brush shade that serves as a chicken roost at night.

Bushman's painting

We return home the next morning via some exceptional Bushmen paintings which incredibly are about 23 000 years old and depict beautifully the life of these first settlers of Southern Africa. Back at Malealea our hosts invite us to braai with them and a rainy rest day is perfect for the girls to get back to school.

Basutho boy

Basutho hut at overnight camp

Back on the road we elect to head back into SA and west to Bloemfontein and get there late thanks to continual roadwork which plagues SA roads right now. The stop is worth it though and I am relieved to pick up my credit card and we visit the world renowned Oliewenhuis Art Museum which houses a fabulous selection of South African art. After a good coffee in the gardens we continue our sojourn west towards Kimberly where we camp for the night.

Margot showing distances covered from Mseleni to Kimberley

Kimberley Big Hole

An early start sees us first in the queue to visit the Big Hole which is the biggest manually dug hole in the world. The diamond rush in the late 1800’s triggered SA’s industrial revolution and De Beers is still today one of the leading diamond producers world-wide. The 800m hole is impressive and a viewing platform gives us a bird’s eye view but it is the short movie in a spanking new theatre and the underground mining experience with noise and blasting included that gets the girls vote. Margot and Zara now know that the 4-C’s of cut, colour, clarity and carat is what diamonds are all about. Good luck boys!

School at Golden Gate

We follow the sun traversing the Northern Cape and then following the mighty Orange River (a tributary of which we had crossed on our ride in Lesotho) to Upington. This is a part of SA that I have not visited and conjures up memories of military call-ups in the bad days. The country is arid but cultivation is rich along the river with miles of vineyards and is now Irish green. We refuel (at nearly R10 per litre!) and push on to Augrabies national park, so named by the Khoesaan people for whom “Aukoerbis” meant “place of great noise”.

Looking down towards the valley of the Orange River

This is familiar territory for me having been here in my varsity days when a white water kayaking trip nearly went badly wrong and watching the incredibly powerful, surging brown water made the hair stand up on the back of my neck

Augrabies Falls- 600 cumec's

The falls are staggering in their might and signs of the recent 6700 cumec flood abound with trashed viewing platforms and walkways and driftwood perched high and dry. Half the campsite is closed thanks to the flood carnage but we find a grassy patch under some trees where school can happen once again. Ilda does magic with the school programme and miraculously keeps the girls attention. They revel in the swimming pool with the outside temp at 35degrees Celsius and I enjoy a sunrise run along the Dassie trail with lots of rocks and river crossings and spectacular views of the gorge. A large troop of baboons prevents me getting to Arrow point but the walk onto Moon Rock for the sunrise is spectacular.

Orange river gorge at sunset

We once again squeeze everything into the Pathfinder and drive due north. The scenery is stark and so it is a relief to arrive at the Kalagadi Transfrontier Park which straddles Namibia, South Africa and Botswana. Rains have been good and so the grass is long which makes for difficult game viewing but excitement abounds in the campsite and there is talk of numerous cat sightings. We rise early for a spectacular sunrise and are treated to a large herd of soaked Springbok and sightings of the majestic Gemsbok with his sword like horns. Signs in the park point to camps nearly 250km away which reminds us of the enormity of this amazing wilderness. Tomorrow we dive to Nossob camp on the Botswana border about 150km away and from there on to Namibia.

Mighty Orange river at sunset

Sani Pass top

Africa travels start: (8 March to 13 March 2011)
Pietermaritzburg to Underberg and camping on the banks of the Umzinkulu River.
Ascent of Sani Pass into Lesotho and lunch at “the highest Pub in Africa!”
Traverse of Lesotho
Golden Gate

Tubing on the Umzinkulu River

Only moments after we had squeezed the last ammo box into the car did we notice engine oil dripping out the back of the car! Our oil container was firmly packed under a ton of baggage but there was no other option but to dig it out of the bowels of the vehicle and remedy the problem. This we did and we expected to find our medical kit swimming in engine oil but to our surprise there was no leak! Some skillful diagnostics from Ilda located the leak from oil container number 2 nestled discretely in the wheel hub on top of the roof and dripping vigorously onto the roof and running back to be deposited in a glutinous puddle at the rear end of the vehicle. Problem solved!

First Campsite on the Umzinkulu River

We set off from Maritzburg bidding farewell to Grandpa/Dad and headed west towards the Drakensberg Mountains. We set up our first camp in intermittent rain and were delighted with our new awning which provided superb shelter for us as we dined on roast chicken and sipped ice cold beer from the fridge, loaned to us with a multitude of other bits and pieces, from Guy and Leigh Henderson (thanks so much Guy and Leigh). The next morning dawned bright and sunny and, after fighting off our first animal attack in the form of red ants, that had actually bitten through the ground sheet of our tent and my mattress, we started with an invigorating plunge in the fresh Umzinkulu River before the girls sat down to their first morning of school on the road! What a setting; clean brisk flowing river, rolling meadows and rich green hills drifting off towards the spectacular mountains of the Drakensberg. (Thank-you Mark and Belinda). We couldn’t have asked for a better start to our trip with a wonderful horse ride, tubing down the river, lots of swimming and some schooling. It was a great chance to test all our gear and then we set off up Sani Pass to really test things.

Sani Pass Zigzags

What a drive it was. The pass is spectacular, climbing to 2865m up a rocky, serpentine, zigzagging, white knuckle rollercoaster that left us exhilarated and euphoric that our Nissan Pathfinder had passed this first big test. The bends are aptly named things like “suicide corner, reverse bend and ice corner” which I was relieved to see after the deed.

We then enjoyed lunch (a superb hot smoked trout) in “the highest pub in Africa” and set up our tents at the local backpackers which was very comfortable and even had our first hot showers in a few days.



A stroll amongst the local Basotho huts was both heartbreaking and joyful. The poverty and squalor is extreme with spartan stone huts, mud floors, no electricity and no hope of growing anything. Heat is provided by burning dried cow dung or heather type brush wood. However the girls played briefly with children making toys from bottle tops, scraps of plastic and molded clay and got a smile and then became engrossed in a game of “mancala” with a number of Basotho women and Margot helped preparing vegetables. It is this sort of interaction that we hope to nurture on our travels. The girls asked to stay on there! We were entertained that night to a thunderstorm that was palpable and dramatic, so much so that one felt the thunder vibrate through ones body and the lightning was blinding and prompted a bit of tent shuffling by the girls. We also got to meet our first “real”over-landers in Ruth and Ian who had driven from the UK all the way down the west of Africa in “Search of Thunder” as their blog suggests. We got some great tips from them and I’m sure they would have been delighted with their dose of thunder.

Sani Pass Basutho Hut

Girls playing "Mancala" with locals

Inglis Shadows

Basutho tribesmen

After a brief walk along the cliff edge at Sani pass we drove off into the interior and were awed at the vastness and beauty of Lesotho. (Ilda pronounces this Lesotto as in risotto!) The road remained epically rough and we were very happy to be in a 4x4 with good clearance. We passed Thaba Inhlanyana (Black Mountain) and the highest point in southern Africa at about 3300m and continued over two passes of over 3000m. The drive was rough but dramatic and the locals friendly but the begging became tiresome, probably a symptom of their desperate circumstances. Interesting sights included a ski resort called “Afri Ski” and a massive and ugly open cast diamond mine which, with water and hydroelectric power, make up most of the GDP.

We dropped off the highlands down an “Alpes d’Huez” type descent that the Tour de France would have been proud of and entered another world of lush pastures and ‘civilization’ and bought a bucket load of peaches from urchins on the road side. We slipped back into South Africa through a border post which demonstrated fantastically our inflated burocracy with large numbers of “officials” lounging about and one doing the crucial job of stamping our passports. A short drive took us to Golden Gate national park, so named for its dramatic sandstone cliffs under which we are now camped. Today was Sunday but school continued in a sense with a magnificent walk under the cliffs and discussions on rock strata and types and the girls using clay to make toys and draw ‘Bushman paintings”.

Echo Ravine- Golden Gate

The thunderstorms have persisted but fortunately predictably in the late afternoons so we have been prepared. Tomorrow we drive back into Lesotho with plans to do some pony trekking and visit the 200m Semonkong waterfall. From there we head west with stops at the “Big Hole” diamond mine of Kimberly and then on to the Orange River and Augrabies falls.

Earthquake, leaving Mseleni and Africa calling...

It has been a tumultuous week. Frightening, desperate, sad, happy, anxious, stressful, exciting. The 6.1 New Zealand earthquake had as its epicenter our little village of Lyttelton next to Christchurch. We listened in numb silence and shock to the dreadful news and watched in horror the grotesque images of the beautiful town we know so well. Buildings and lives shattered monuments and cathedrals no more and we wonder if it will ever be the same again. And yet out of bad comes good and the rescue stories, community spirit and incredible work done by my Emergency Medicine colleagues and other medical staff in Christchurch demonstrates the courage, resilience and determination of the true Kiwi. We felt relieved to have missed it but somehow sorry not to be able to offer help and to experience this incredible New Zealand spirit. Our thoughts are with you.

Here far away in Africa our lives too have taken a turn. I am now unemployed having completed my year at Mseleni hospital in far north Kwa-Zulu Natal. We packed up our Park Home into trailer and station wagon and drove off into the sunset! It was with mixed emotions that we left. My farewell from the OPD/ED staff was deeply moving with lots of singing and prayers, moving words, chips and coke for Africa and a massive cake with “Fair well Dr Inglis” written on it. The staff showered us with gifts and my words of gratitude were choked with emotion. Ilda and the girls were able to sing in French in response to their beautiful Zulu song. It has been a spectacular year in which we have felt deeply privileged to have been part of this rich community and culture. We have learnt so much about life, about wildlife, about medicine, about Africa and I feel more a part of this country than ever before. Numerous excursions into game parks, diving in clear warm water, camping on beaches and on mountains of the Rift valley, historical tours to Zulu war battlefields, trout fishing with my Dad, school old boy gatherings, running the Comrades, canoeing down beautiful rivers, trips to Cape Town to see our family, wonderful visits from friends and family from around the world, the girls running barefoot, collecting bugs and getting excited about stars. This year has exceeded all our expectations. Then there was home schooling in which Margot and Zara thrived and Ilda excelled and my hospital work that made me realize how much more there is to do and know.

Take my last few days in the hospital. This 55yo man is dragged into OPD by his family. They tell me he has vomited up a lot of blood. He is sweaty and ghostly pale. We place large iv cannulae and hear that he has been a drinker. I suspect oesophageal varisces and, as if to confirm this, he throws up another jug full of bright red fresh blood. I feel desperate as we lack the usual special throat tube or drugs to stem his bleeding and a surgeon is over 2 hours away. We give him blood and, as a compromise, I pass a urinary catheter down into his stomach, blow it up and apply traction in the hope that this may stem the bleeding. It amazingly seems to work and he is still alive when I return early the next morning. Enthused, I refer him on again to the surgeons who remind me that the mortality for this condition is nearly 100%. Despite this we book transport and prepare him for transfer. But the stats prove right and soon thereafter another bucketful of blood and he breathes his last. That same night I suture up a scalp. He has been assaulted by the “community justice” with a “knobkerrie” (a stick with a hard rounded end) and has an extensive occipital laceration. He is conscious and only requires sutures but the process is awkward because he is unable to roll over because of the handcuffs that tie him to the bed. In the morning I am desperate to get away to the morning rounds but one more folder catches my attention. Green folder means obstetric and ignore it at your peril. She is 36 weeks pregnant, a little restless, BP 160/110 and has leg swelling and protein in her urine. Pre-eclampsia is a dire obstetric emergency and we treat her and transfer her urgently to the Women’s hospital over 2 hours away.
My last day at work is memorable too. After routine rounds we start in the operating theatre. An elderly man who has smoked all his life has a rotten big toe and no pulses in his leg. His vessels are irretrievably clogged and we amputate below the knee. Even without tourniquet only one vessel spurts briefly, confirming his wrecked circulation. Then on to the ED, where we have a young man who is restless and short of breath. A chest x-ray shows a massive heart and we are able to confirm this on ecg and Ultrasound scanning. We place a needle into his anterior chest over his heart and straw coloured fluid gushes forth. We drain off two litres of pericardial fluid and start him on TB treatment. He feels so much better that he asks us to discharge him! And so I finish at this delightful hospital, hang up my stethoscope and walk out the door.

We hope to be back. Right now we are surrounded by ammo boxes, camping gear, piles of Mefloquine and Garmin’s “Tracks for Africa” as we prepare for our nearly 6 month voyage around southern and eastern Africa. The all important “carnet” for the car comes this week-end and so we hope to set off early next week. The plan is to head up to Weenan for a touch of 4x4 tuition and then on up to the Drakensberg and into Lesotho via Sani Pass. From there we will go west to Namibia, follow the coast and then turn right at Angola. Then through, what in my childhood was a war zone, the Caprivi Strip, and on to Botswana. After that as far north as Rwanda and then back home along the east coast via Tanzania and Mozambique. It all seems a little chaotic now but things seem to be coming together.

Carpe Diem

Inglis Family