A little while ago I ventured to the Drakensberg for a week in the mountains, staying at the beautiful Drakensberg Gardens Golf and Spa Resort.
We hiked, we fished, we froze, we wandered, we golfed and it was absolutely wonderful. The day after we arrived it started to snow – just a light airbrushing of white, but it was my baby cousin Jack’s first experience of snowflakes. He was rather unappreciative of suddenly being thrust into the cold to experience the joy of frozen water and soon let his feelings be known, but the rest of us certainly enjoyed it. There is something about snow – it’s Christmas and cosyness exemplified.
My family love golf, so staying on a golf resort was a dream come true and every morning the boys whisked off for nine holes before breakfast. The highlight of our golfing experiences had to be when my dad almost whacked a hole-in-one, but as his ball landed on the green it was strategically picked up by a cunning baboon, who then proceeded to run back up the mountain, chased by my brother and unimpressed father. The irksome monkey eventually realised that my brother was not going to give up the chase and dropped the ball. Those there to witness the event swear he laughed before strolling casually back up the mountain to join his troop.
Trout fishing was another story. My boyfriend and my brother tried every tactic in the book – my brother even waded up to his neck in the freezing waters of the massive lake. They caught twigs, rocks and an exciting piece of seaweed – everything except an actual fish, some of which took turns jumping up all around them, in a carefully planned, mocking chorus. It was quite glorious to watch and they drew many spectators.
My boyfriend hooked a big rock on one of his casts and he had a crowd of about 10 70+’ers around him, offering ever-such-helpful advice about how to retrieve his hook. He took the running commentary rather gracefully, although the whites of his knuckles showed as he gripped the rod and the somewhat forced smile suggested that he was not altogether thrilled. He persevered for hours, long after it went dark and we all went home. One night he triumphantly returned claiming that he caught a real fish, although evidence was elusive and some hurtful parties remain skeptical.
Hippo pool is sadly misnamed, offering no actual hippos, but it did provide us with a spectacular viewpoint of the mountains, painted gold at dusk. There are numerous walks in the area and although we were rather lazy and didn’t take full advantage of these, we enjoyed our gentle evening strolls around the dam and the expansive golf course.
Here are some musings about the Drakensberg; a place which never ceases to amaze it’s visitors and residents with its diversity and phenomenal natural beauty.
The Drakensberg Mountains
Mystic mountains tucked up in a patchwork quilt
Stitched with time and aged with silence
The tranquil mismatch of imperfection blended
With the reminiscing ruminating of the sodden
Heavy tread of a thousand hooves of ancient cows
Doing as their ancestors did, in the time of the blue moon
When it is rumoured that the dish ran away with the spoon
Silence heavy as the rain, an old amphitheatre performing
Everlasting to an ever changing
Audience, different but the same,
Expression of wonderment, lost in eyes as blue
As the small pool which lies beneath the mountains steep,
Concealing deep within it perhaps a key,
In the patterns which flicker like snake tongues darting
Changing over rocks the deep speckled darkness of the unknown.
Tread softly; you know not who has gone before,
Or who will go after, be at peace with the not knowing
Let the tomorrow of today sleep within you
As you gaze out at the watercolour
Of colours running and seeping
Like tears streaking down the wrinkled façade
Of the ancient guardian of the lightest feather
In the foliage of an eagle’s expansive wing
As it circles higher in the airy whisper
Of the wind. Walk with you in grass illuminated
Hand in hand, speaking of adventures old and new
Sunshine spies in a last attempt
To save the day and defeat the night, but no
A sudden explosion of ripples across a lake
A shy moorhen returns to its chicks
As the golden haze fades, subdued crepuscular rays
Extending long fingertips, in promises long kept and sacred
Night falls and even in the starry starry night of an
Unfinished marvel of a man who had only one ear
The mountains stand untouched and silent
Watching as we turn
… and make our way home.
Find accommodation in the Drakensberg with Getaway Accommodation
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