The Flow office really is a great place to work, but every now and then it’s refreshing to get out into the world.
Usually it’s only for a few hours, so a recent three-day trip to Limpopo, to gather material for Flow client South African Tourism’s digital offerings, was quite exceptional for me.
It wasn’t a holiday – I was constantly looking for photo opportunities and story angles, and there was little time to get things done, but it beat the heck out of being chained to my desk.
Accompanied by South African Tourism’s Erick van Zyl and encyclopaedic tour guide Janco Scott, who turned out to be fantastic travelling companions, I was in for a trip filled with discovery and unusual experiences.
It all began with a red-eye flight for Erick and me from chilly Johannesburg to Phalaborwa, which was already slightly steamy shortly after daybreak. Janco, appropriately dressed in shorts and open-neck shirt, was there to meet us.
First stop was the Hans Merensky Estate, a sprawling accommodation and conferencing venue. After a breakfast, we toured the estate, and I got my first good images: the crocodile- and hippo-infested water hazard on the golf course.
After a quick stop at the Amarula Lapa, the visitor centre for the producer of one of South Africa’s tastiest exports, we hit the road and drove to nThambo Tree Camp, a boutique lodge situated inside the Klaserie Private Nature Reserve, which forms part of the greater Kruger National Park. nThambo hosts only 10 people at a time, in five stilt houses.
It would be the first of many moments in the next few days when I would savour the magnificent quiet of the bush. It’s a silence that’s almost noisy, and it reminded me how accustomed we are to never knowing complete tranquility in the city.
After joining the guests – from the UK, and a honeymooning Swedish couple – for lunch, we drove to Pezulu Tree House Game Lodge, situated to the south-east of Hoedspruit. They have 10 tree houses, each immaculately appointed and each unique in its construction and decor.
What I really loved about Pezulu, other than the tree houses, was how dinner was served that evening: the entire kitchen staff turned out in the communal boma, and presented the delicious three-course meal to the guests. They didn’t just cook the food; they owned the meal.
The next morning, we had a long way to go – to learn the story of Modjadji, the Rain Queen, and South Africa’s only matrilineal royal dynasty. But first we stopped at a 2 000-year-old baobab tree near Gravelotte. I’d never seen one before, let alone climb into its hollow trunk; what a magnificent thing it was.
At Bolobedu, north of Tzaneen and the home of Modjadji, we toured the royal kraal with Moshakge Nerwick Molokwane, secretary to the Royal Council. He told us the fascinating story of the Balobedu people, how they came to be ruled by queens for the past 200 years, how the Rain Queen is identified and crowned, and the rainmaking ritual that she performs.
A visit to the area wouldn’t be complete without a stop at the nearby Modjadji Cycad Reserve. It’s a unique place, with specific climatic conditions that support the growth of cycads. It’s also the only place where a species of this ancient plant – named for Modjadji – can be found.
While the reserve’s facilities can certainly do with a refresh, a short walk through the forest on that misty day (we were on a schedule, after all) made up for any shortcomings.
From there we turned southwards, towards the Magoebaskloof and another establishment quite unlike any other: Kurisa Moya. Set in the second-largest pristine bushwood forest in South Africa (it wasn’t always like that, thanks to massive tree plantations in the past century), this is another place to lose yourself in the quiet.
Led by co-owner Lisa Martus and guide David Letsoalo (who is rated the best bird guide in South Africa), we tramped around the thick Afromontane forest for a while. Lisa told us that they had built the accommodation in such a way that guests would never run into each other. “We want people to feel alone in the forest,” she said – what a great approach, I say.
The sun was dipping as we headed towards the Soutpansberg and Makhado. We were on our way to possibly the most spectacular of our destinations: Leshiba Wilderness.
They say the best things in life are free, but I’m not sure. We had to work to get to Leshiba Wilderness, with Janco employing all his off-roading skills to get us up a bumpy track into the mountains outside Makhado.
By the time we got to Leshiba, it was pitch dark and we didn’t realise the surprise we’d get at daybreak. Leshiba was also the most remote place we visited – no electricity, and no cellphone reception. Bliss!
But that doesn’t mean it was rough and ready. Quite the opposite, in fact. The food was fabulous, my lodgings were lovely and the staff were a delight. And when we rose the next morning, we discovered we were in a place that is replete with the very best in Venda art.
The lodgings there, called the Venda Village, are built on what was an actual village, using local practices and decorated with works by celebrated artists such as Noria Mabasa, Thomas Kubayi and Paul Thavhana. I’ll confess that I’m an art ignoramus and had never heard of them, but I’ll never forget them now; their art is wonderful.
It was awful to tear ourselves away from this magical place, but we had a plane to catch – in faraway Polokwane. So we said our farewells, bumped our way back down the mountain and turned towards Limpopo’s provincial capital.
Janco dropped us at the airport, before heading for his base in Nelspruit; all too soon, Erick and I touched down in Johannesburg and said our goodbyes. I was ecstatic to be back in the bosom of my family, whom I’d missed desperately – but I won’t complain if the next trip takes six days ...