A monastic lifestyle down at Milkwood Glen

Milkwood Glen: A relaxed environment.

In a post I wrote elsewhere on this blog almost a year ago, I said the time had come to release a society that “desperately tries to repress anything it does not understand and that does not follow today’s economic rules” (an American astrologer’s words in quotes). I have my own path to follow, I declared.

Well, I meant what I wrote, but I had little idea about the direction in which my path might lead.

Since then, Estelle and I have moved from our timber cottage in the forest to a house bought by my son at Milkwood Glen, about five minutes walk from the sea at Keurboomstrand, near Plettenberg Bay. This is a beautiful verdant place with, as the name implies, plenty of milkwood and other trees. Trees, shrubs and flowers flourish here. We do miss our forest walks with the dogs (and sometimes the cats, too) and we miss the calls and sightings of the wonderful variety of birds, including the regular chatter of low-flying Knysna loeries. But being on the edge of the ocean brings within easy view a new collection of wildlife, most notably whales and dolphins.

Wide open: Keurbooms Beach with Robberg on the horizon.

One late afternoon recently, when the sea was like a pond, a large shoal of fish appeared to be moving across the bay and seabirds plunged at it with abandon. At the same time, in small groups all over the bay, dolphins were also feeding freely. When, like small children, they had had enough and were full of energy, they did loops out of the water and surfed the breakers in a frenzy of pure joy.

Yesterday evening we had another surprise show of pure glory. As the sun set on Robberg peninsula, across the bay from us, a dead-calm ice-blue sea met a pink sky as the breakers rushed gently to shore. The colour of the distant Tsitsikamma mountains was a sharply defined deep blue. Berg wind conditions clear the air and bring the environment into sharp focus, retouching it with magical colours.

We returned to the beach this morning and the sea was as calm as it can be, softly ironed by the gentle north-westerly. But this time nature provided additional delights. Two whales wallowed serenely a couple of hundred metres out. An ocean safari boat soon arrived with a full load of red life-jacketed whale-watchers. But it was not an intrusion and must have provided those tourists with the kind of experience that is beyond description back in London or Berlin. The colours of the boat and the life-jackets reflected brightly in the still water as the whales showed a leisurely fin here and an unconcerned tail there. Back on the beach, the tide had strewn a million intricately detailed shells and we collected pockets full as we walked.

In the man-made past year, of course, the recession has bitten deeper for many of us. We resist, but it persists. Estelle is working some nights at the rehab in Plett and at the vet shop and surgery some days. I still have some newspaper work (and a very small pension), but, in Estelle's absence, I am now quite largely engaged in house-husbandry. Yes, house-husbandry, as in househusband instead of housewife. It’s an occupation which for some reason I don’t seem to mind too much and I even take some pride in washing up (it could simply be a socially accepted form of obsessive-compulsive disorder), hanging up the laundry, sweeping the patio and shopping for groceries. I try to approach these tasks with what Buddhists call mindfulness, which teachers say can be interpreted as “unconditional friendliness” towards what is happening in the present moment, and appreciating it for what it is, without judgment.



Buddha: He likes cooling off in water.

 I also walk Buddha our Newfoundland dog around the village. He is much loved here because, like his revered namesake, he is unconditionally, and uncontrollably, friendly. Buddha loves to carry bags of any description, so when you come across a family who have just moved into a holiday house for the weekend, and are busy unpacking their groceries, Buddha charges up, desperate to help carry. The sight of him, because of his black coat and large size, can be quite alarming, but shock soon turns to unconditional friendliness. Buddha also loves to cool off in the water, but prefers pools to waves.



Birthday hike: Estelle on Robberg on the eve of her 60th.

 When you add to my domestic activities reading, writing and daily meditation, you come to the conclusion that I live a pretty monastic lifestyle which, in spite of earlier ego-resistance, I am now learning to accept. A cutting in my little book says “transcendence arrives when you embrace the life that is given”.

Many people in this area are familiar with the financial struggle which can follow making a commitment to this most beautiful part of the world. It seems to breed a toughness and self-reliance – a kind of battle-hardened acceptance which lies side by side with a love of doing your own thing in a lovely place. If your fridge or TV needs attention, you don’t book it in for repairs with hundreds of others, or, better still, buy a new one. The repairman, who you know from the old days, comes to your house and fixes it with good humour and goodwill, and you pay him an undeniably fair sum in cash. And the appliance works better than ever.

Anyway, to get back to the point. My situation is such that I have been forced, or rather provided with the opportunity, to look at things differently. It’s all about perception. I’m learning to find “greater joy, deeper peace, more certain wisdom and more loving relationships”, in the words of an eminent spiritual teacher. But, of course, I’m still a student with common weaknesses.



Concert time: Charley and Anna with Missy.

 My daughter Melissa and her husband Charles live on a farm on the other side of town. Charles, a horticulturist, is the son of legendary veterinarian Andre Reitz whom I have known since the days when I bred Aberdeen Angus cattle in the area with my late father-in-law. Charles and Missy have provided us with delightful twin granddaughters who are sure to teach us plenty in the coming years. And we hope to teach them something, too. And apart from providing us with a home, our son Alex continues to inspire us with the work he does in the world of wildlife (and human) conservation and the almost weekly updates on the new and exciting opportunities he draws to himself.

I still write travel stories, as you can see below, but these days I prefer going to the many interesting South African destinations rather than doing long hauls overseas, even in business class and staying in fancy hotels. I cherish the memories of some of my overseas travel, but my tastes have changed. For example, thanks to Alex and his network of associates, in August we are going on a walking safari as a family with my brother and his wife, our children and their partners, in a remote part of Ngala private game reserve, staying in a tented camp complete with ranger, tracker and cook. Alex is a veteran ranger and professional tracker himself, so when we get into the bush we should know exactly what we’re looking for, and at.

KwaZulu-Natal's perfectly preserved historic battlefields fascinate and overwhelm

Solemn sunset: A mass grave at the place where British
soldiers were killed by Boer shelling from across the valley.

Looking down from the rocky heights of Spioenkop in KwaZulu-Natal, the view across the aloe and acacia-dotted valley below is spectacular. The large Spioenkop Dam on the Tugela River to the south lies tranquil in the late afternoon light. The landmarks immortalised in history books - Twin Peaks, Aloe Knoll, Conical Hill, Green Hill and Tabanyama are all around us. Our guide, Omri Nene, a gentle young actor, relates the events of the Battle of Spioenkop quietly, holding our little party – my brother Philip, British father and son Mike and Thomas Crozier, and me – spellbound. From time to time he breaks the tension with a broad smile and a giggle as he returns to another of the comical blunders on both sides in the conflict.

General Sir Redvers Buller, VC, commander of the British forces in Natal, was attempting to relieve a British force in Ladysmith besieged by the Boers during the Anglo-Boer War. He delegated control of his main force to the indecisive General Sir Charles Warren, who had at his disposal an overwhelming number of infantry, cavalry and field guns. On the other side of the Kop were the Boers, totally outnumbered but well armed with modern Mauser rifles and a few other guns.

Omri told of the bayonet charge by British soldiers when they eventually reached the top in thick mist on the night before the main battle. A Boer picquet of 15 men were resting behind a low wall of rocks until they were alerted by the chilling rattle of multiple bayonets being fixed before the charge. One of the Boers failed to escape as the soldiers caught up with him and bayoneted him, his body left lying on the hard ground among the scattered brown rocks. His solitary grave marks the spot where he died.

The next morning the Boers began to pound the British position, shelling them and putting down a storm of rifle fire, initially from the adjacent plateau of Tabanyama. Meanwhile, Commandant Hendrik Prinsloo of the Carolina Commando captured Aloe Knoll and Conical Hill with less than 100 men, while about 300 burghers, mainly of the Pretoria Commando, climbed Spioenkop to launch a frontal assault on the British position. A furious fight at the crest commenced, with heavy losses on both sides.

In the end, after a bloody, gruelling and desperately confused battle – one that would become notorious in British military history - both sides departed from Spioenkop. Interestingly, a number of the world’s future leaders were there: Winston Churchill, Boer leader Louis Botha, who would become the first Prime Minister of the Union of South Africa, and Mohandas Gandhi who organised an ambulance corps for the British army.

Today, as the sun sets and a chilly wind finds its way into our warm clothing, all there is to remind us of the dramatic events of January 24, 1900 are the white stones of mass graves and disconsolate memorials, most of the names inscribed on them being those of brave young Brits in their early twenties and younger. Young Thomas Crozier makes extensive notes from some of the memorials to take back to his wheelchair-bound granddad in the UK.

That morning we had visited the spot along the railway line near Colenso - site of an earlier battle - where the unstoppable young war correspondent Winston Churchill was captured after the derailment of a British armoured train. His later escape from Boer captivity was well publicised and at Spioenkop he was back, commissioned by Buller as a lieutenant in the SA Light Horse regiment in recognition of his exploits. Here he made himself useful as a kind of self-appointed scout and courier, riding hither and thither, keeping Buller informed of events.

History preserved: Three Tree Hill Lodge is a haven for
Boer War history enthusiasts.

 Today, on the other side of the valley, on a rise among the acacias, more or less where General Warren’s HQ had been, is a beautiful place of refuge named Three Tree Hill Lodge by virtue of its location. Proprietors Simon and Cheryl Blackburn (formerly of Singita Private Game Reserve and Kwando Safari Experience), both of them seasoned safari guides, share their knowledge and experiences with guests in the lounge and dining areas over farmhouse meals. Their easy-going style is what the Three Tree Hill experience is all about. The lodge has a marvellous little library of historical books and a large collection of historical photographs all over the walls - an attraction in itself. A portrait near the dining room table shows a fresh-faced young Winston Churchill gazing down benignly.

Omri was never far away, serving drinks and joining in the conversation around the table. He grew up in a local village and studied theatre at the University of KZN, later serving as a community liaison officer for the university’s drama department. He has performed at the Grahamstown Arts Festival and travelled to the US to play Macbeth in a production in Detroit. Coming to Three Tree Hill Lodge presented an opportunity to learn history and hone his skills as a raconteur, he told me.

On the day of our arrival we took a leisurely hike with Cheryl and her dogs alongside the game reserve adjacent to the lodge, with beautiful views of Spioenkop and the surrounding veld, stocked with game. It is a little-known and virtually undisturbed official conservation area.

Accommodation at the lodge is in attractive cottages with views across the valley. I was delighted by the green-painted historical-style corrugated iron structure of the cottages, with a timber finish inside. They are unusually user-friendly and comfortable, without the pseudo-luxuries found at some more pretentious lodges. Fugitive’s Drift, which we visited next, follows the same formula of luxurious but uncluttered comfort with a strong historical feel.

We travelled to Fugitive’s Drift via Ladysmith and Dundee, stopping to view the exhibits at the Siege Museum in Ladysmith, all of which were of much more significance after our previous days’ experiences than would otherwise have been the case.

Arriving at Fugitive’s Drift, we were given a warm welcome by our affable and now well known raconteur and tour guide, Rob Caskie, and we soon found Nicky Rattray, widow of David Rattray, in relaxed mode among the other guests. Rob had long been an associate of David Rattray, the world renowned speaker on history, particularly the Battle of Isandlwana and Rorke’s Drift, as well as Zulu cultures. David was a Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society and lectured internationally.

Chilling tale: Rob Caskie keeps visitors to
Rorke's Drift enthralled.

That afternoon a long-standing intention of mine was fulfilled when we found ourselves at Rorke’s Drift where, in what is virtually a yard between the hospital (now a museum) and a storehouse (now a church), the terrible battle between a small garrison of British soldiers and about 4000 Zulu warriors took place when the Zulus attacked the fortified mission station. Rob’s rendition of the story of the battle was enthralling, with frequent and powerful use of the Zulu language, as well as gruesome details you don’t find in regular accounts of the story which has been popularised by more than one movie.

Rorke’s Drift was defended by 139 British soldiers (a number of them seriously ill in the hospital), who inflicted serious casualties on the attacking Zulus and successfully beat them back after a long and terrible night’s fighting. But some of the most harrowing action took place in the hospital, whose thatch roof was on fire. A few soldiers were assigned to defend the hospital, eventually saving a number of patients at great personal sacrifice as the relentless onslaught by the Zulus continued to hammer at the tiny building.

Some commentators have suggested that 11 Victoria Crosses was excessive for such a small group of soldiers simply defending themselves against attackers, but looking around that tiny and now perfectly peaceful piece of ground with a stone cattle kraal next to the church, one can understand what a desperate battle it must have been.

Because of the time of our arrival we visited Rorke’s Drift first and Isandlwana the next morning, when in fact the battles took place the other way round on January 22 and 23, 1879, respectively.

Big battle: Isandlwana was a battle rated as one of the
greatest military disasters in British colonial history.

Isandlwana was a battle rated as one of the greatest military disasters in British colonial history. Again our group sat in folding chairs overlooking a beautiful vista on a glorious morning with the famous mountain lying like a sphinx to our left as Rob entertained us with the story of another dramatic battle. Again, the facts described in great detail. Again, Rob’s performance was a wonderful tribute to his predecessor. We were particularly impressed by the way he could remember every guest’s name and use it to punctuate his story most effectively.

Out on that slope, all that remain are scores of white stone cairns and other memorials. And Isandlwana, the mountain, remains unmoved by time or history.

See www.threetreehill.co.za and http://www.fugitivesdrift.com/ This story appeared in Diversions leisure magazine.

What is this thing called spirituality?

I first came across Joan Borysenko while reading a wonderful collection of spiritual essays called Handbook for the Soul, published in 1995. The words below are taken from her website, with her permission. For me this is a clear and comprehensive wrap-up of what spirituality is all about, and for me it is important that people—particularly those who are confused about it all—become familiar with this understanding:

The late French Jesuit priest and scientist Pierre Teilhard de Chardin said “We are not human beings having a spiritual experience; we are spiritual beings having a human experience.”

When we understand the truth of that realisation, a new world of meaning emerges. Trust in a beneficent spiritual reality with which we can cooperate enhances health, mood, and our capacity for what Plato called goodness. In this section you can access information on what spirituality is, how it differs from religion, what a mature spirituality looks like, and how you can use your soul’s compass to guide you on a path where the inner and the outer become one—where your personal spiritual evolution and purpose in life converge. When that happens, the answers to the two perennial questions, Who am I? and Why am I here? become one and the same. In the words of Ram Dass, that answer is “to love, serve and remember”.

What is spirituality?

It is important to distinguish religion from spirituality since while they may overlap it is entirely possible to be spiritual without being religious and vice versa. Spirituality is a commitment to a life of depth and compassion that connects each of us to a larger whole. It is predicated on the development of a contemplative life in the classic sense of contemplation: an open and curious examination of experience as it unfolds, moment by moment. This is also called Presence, and it is the basis of an awakened life based on guidance from the Source, in service to the highest good. Our personal spiritual development must ultimately serve others for it to be an authentic unfolding of the heart of spirit in action.

Interspirituality

While different faiths developed through specific prisms of culture and contexts in space and time, there are universal spiritual principles which are fundamental to all of them. Interspirituality is the common ground, where all of the wisdom traditions meet. Interspirituality is committed to finding the spirituality both within and beyond religion. What ties us together is a shared desire to connect with the Ground of Being in a way that fully respects our differences. The challenge is to embody what is most true and real for us without seeking to convince or convert others. Our intention is to delve deeply into the perennial interspiritual philosophy of guidance and discernment so that we may become more fully present and capable of clear, compassionate action in the world.

Spiritual growth

Spiritual growth is a maturational process through which our potential for full humanness, the ripening of all our capacities in an integrated way, can be realised as our birthright or true nature. The methods through which we cooperate with the indwelling spirit—which is always moving us towards growth and freedom—are generally thought of as spiritual practices. One of the most profound practices is the willingness to engage with the questions that arise in the process of daily life.

Why are we here? Are we fulfilling life’s purpose? What is evolutionary intelligence trying to express through us? In this time of global change and uncertainty, of spiritual indirection, people are asking these age-old questions with renewed curiosity. There is a thirst for meaning and purpose—a dawning realisation that happiness is not a commodity that can be bought with a gold card.

Fulfilment and joy arise naturally from the capacity to be present to life as it unfolds and to listen for—and discern—the best possibilities in any situation, with informal, enlightened, compassionate action.

The importance of inquiry

Inquiry is a heuristic process of discovery that is driven not by answers, but by dwelling in the deep questions that arise in our lives. In this sense, it is an open, rather than closed, form of learning: open to the truth that can reveal itself directly from authentic questioning. Inquiry requires living in the spirit of openness, curiosity and respect, increasingly mindful of what it is in us that may limit or restrict our willingness to stay with our experience as it unfolds. Deep spiritual inquiry and open-hearted sharing require an atmosphere of trust. Deep learning, a vibrant, unfolding spiritual journey and spiritual transformation are best facilitated not by the top-down provision of dogmatic, final answers, but by dwelling together in the fundamental and deep questions that arise on the journey.

See www.JoanBorysenko.com

Learning and preserving the ancient art of wildlife tracking



Keen to learn: Pokkie Benadie (second from left) and students track
a rhino and calf at Samara.

 The invitation by my son Alex to visit the only wildlife tracker academy in South Africa at Samara private game reserve near Graaff-Reinet was irresistible. We had heard the step by step progress over the months and I had visited Samara for part of a travel story before the academy’s first students arrived. Everything was now in place and it was time to go and see for ourselves.

Lessons start early at the SA College for Tourism Tracker Academy and when my wife and I arrived to join a tracking session one of the students, Robert Hlatswayo was waiting to guide us to the tracker group which had already gone into the bush. Neatly turned out in the academy uniform, Robert was clearly a motivated young man, keen to show us how it’s done. Alex and resident trainer, Pokkie Benadie were supervising the group of four – out of an intake of eight - as they set out to track a rhino female and her calf.

Pokkie is a modest, instantly likeable man with a firm handshake and a ready smile. He is a native of the Karoo, the product of more than 30 years’ experience at the Karoo National Park and a certified master tracker. He started out looking after his father’s sheep and trapping jackal and caracal which threatened them. By age 16 he was able to identify the tracks of all the local wild animals and follow them through the bush.

With Alex and Renias Mhlongo, both veterans of Londolozi private game reserve in the Lowveld, and both senior trackers, Pokkie makes up the team of trainers who are passionate about imparting the techniques and ethos of professional tracking.

Like Pokkie, Renias grew up tending his father’s cattle in the Lowveld and the responsibility was great. His father was a traditional man who was jealous of his herd and sternly intolerant of any dereliction of duty. So, when cows went missing in the veld, there was only one way of dealing with the problem – tracking them down.

Alex and Renias started out as a ranger-and-tracker team at Londolozi, taking mostly wealthy overseas guests on game drives and introducing them to the African bush. Early on, when Alex was still a rookie, they were looking for tracks in a dry riverbed when Alex was charged and knocked down by a leopard female which had a cub nearby. Renias kept his cool and virtually saved Alex’s life by quietly giving him the right instructions as the leopard stood menacingly near, with Alex’s rifle flung out of reach. It was a pivotal moment for Alex and the two have been close friends ever since.

They have travelled overseas together, to London for example – Renias the village boy’s baptism of fire into the Western world – and to train American trackers to follow bears and other wildlife in Yellowstone National Park in the US. They also do a motivational talk together called The Power of Relationships, based on their mutual experiences.

Pokkie, Renias and Alex received tracker certification from Louis Liebenberg who has played a major role in re-igniting the ancient art of tracking in South Africa. He is the author of the seminal book The Art of Tracking and is the only known person to be working with indigenous people on documenting this deep knowledge of the wilderness.

After spending the first six months at Samara the groups of students move to Londolozi where they complete the year’s training with Renias.

All ears: Alex uses a special program to help
students identify bird calls

While walking in the veld with this group of students, we soon saw the enthusiasm and willingness to learn. With his neat military-green outfit and stick (which they all carry when tracking), Pokkie reminded me of an army instructor. But that is certainly not his style. The neatly rolled up sleeping bags and towels in the dormitories do indicate discipline, but these young men are taught to think for themselves. When tracking a dangerous animal in thick bush, for example, they have to make up their own minds whether to proceed or not. They are encouraged to “give themselves permission” to proceed.

Each of the four – Nathan, Robert, Tutani and Clearance – took turns in leading the group as it tracked the rhino and calf. There were some tell-tale signs of the animals’ passage, like fresh dung, but picking up and following the tracks – to the untrained eye simply semi-distinguishable smudges in the soil – is a demanding activity requiring close attention, stealth, silence maintained with hand signals, and constant vigilance. There were signs of apprehension as each individual took the lead, but witnessing the students’ dedication to the task was heart-warming.

We made our way over open ground and eventually to a largely dried up dam where the signs showed that the animals had been to drink and then left. We continued the pursuit - stopping along the way to identify birdcalls - through a dry riverbed and into some thick bush. I could tell by the breeze on my unusually bare legs that we were upwind of the mother and calf (a tip picked up from the bit of training received) and, sure enough, there was a sudden crashing noise of big animals in the bush ahead of us. We couldn’t see them, but they were well aware of our presence and made off again. Keeping this up requires some energy since while large and apparently cumbersome animals, rhino are nimble on their feet.

After about three hours, and opportunities to view other animals, including some beautiful eland, the big moment came. With Tutani leading the group, the two rhino crossed our view. We had found them, and the game was up.

Back at the academy we could relax with all the students, the other half of whom had been watching wildlife DVDs under the supervision of Janetta, Pokkie’s wife. She is delighted to be playing an active role at the academy, providing meals and general “housemother” support of the students, as well as conducting some of the lessons.

Pokkie is also intensely satisfied with the way things have developed: “It has always been my dream to teach these skills, and I am very pleased to be here. You learn a lot by teaching others, which gives you extra confidence.”

Alex had the last word: “Our aim is to empower the custodians of Africa’s wilderness to preserve the continent’s last remaining wild areas. Our intention is that our graduates will bring authenticity and accuracy to environmental education, anti-poaching, eco-tourism, data collection and conservation, all of which hold the promise of gainful employment for these young people.”



Home on the range: The Tracker Academy building.

This story appeared in the Sunday Independent and Weekend Argus Travel.

  





The highest calling available to a human being

When I returned to Cape Town from the country after going through a divorce, a friend of my ex-wife introduced me to the Emissaries of Divine Light. I attended Sunday morning services at which there were no prayers or hymns, only spontaneous expressions of personal truth by the leader of the group and anyone else in it who felt moved to speak. At one of these meetings I picked up a little booklet called Seven Steps to the Temple of Light written in 1936 by Lloyd Arthur Meeker. Among many other spiritual readings, this little book inspired and guided me for 20 years in the city before returning to the country, and my ex-wife, as it still does. As a newspaper sub-editor, the frequent use of capitalisation in the text worried me, but never enough to detract from the basic message that within us is the Wonderful One, which is the same thing as the Holy Spirit, the Higher Self or the Soul. The joy of the freedom I felt reading those words during sometimes difficult circumstances has never left me.

Below are powerful words which also come from the Emissaries:

At the core of each of us there is a being of almost inconceivable majesty and light. This is the reality of who we are. Most of us, however, show only short glimpses of that reality to our world. Many people harbour a deep sense of doubt and an underlying discontent about the direction of their lives. Those feelings can persist through any pleasure and success that may be enjoyed.

Is it possible for the reality of who we truly are to emerge in the world? Is there a way to use every relationship, every job—in fact, everything we do—as a means to let our inner being become more real to us and to those around us? Many would consider this possibility fantastic. Our culture and upbringing try to convince us that we are anything but radiant beings of light. Prevailing thought suggests that the future depends on technology, and that faster, bigger and stronger makes for progress. Meanwhile, what is most precious—the experience of what it means to be all that we truly are—is largely forgotten. People find themselves out of touch with their own power to move past the bonds of culture and hereditary influence.

For each of us, the future depends on how we respond to this essential question: In what do we have the most faith? The potential we have touched to express our highest and finest in every facet of life, or our attachment to factors based in culture and upbringing that hold us back from that? In the end, it won’t matter so much for us what our friends’ answers may be, or what answer is given by the political or spiritual leaders of the day.

Our own answer will be what brings either fulfilment or futility. And while our response in words may be important, our thoughts and feelings in every moment of our living are the ultimate answer that will set the course for our future.

All of the world’s great religions and spiritual teachings point to the potential for the transcendent reality of being to come forth in oneself. The actual experience of this—beyond belief or religious tradition—is the highest calling available to a human being. Our world’s greatest need is the spiritual leadership of people who answer this call.

Beyond the Flames courtroom drama




Hit and run: The Camdeboo region of the Great Karoo where
Boer guerrillas hid from British columns during the Anglo Boer War.

 
Below is an extract from the courtroom drama in my screenplay Beyond the Flames, loosely based on actual Boer War history (see picture below). It is on option with a producer in New York.


INT. COURTROOM -- DAY

Anton sits at the front of the table as Simon addresses the court.

SIMON

Your Honor, Mr. Potgieter was born in the Cape Colony before his family moved to the Orange Free State, where he became a citizen. He has worked as a journalist in Johannesburg and was employed at the Cape Town Chronicle at the time hostilities began. He was sent to the Free State to cover the rebellion there. He met and interviewed De Waal and then joined a British column to see the war from the British side, as a disciplined, professional journalist wanting to give the public a balanced view of events. We have brought his hearing forward in order that his suitability as a state witness in the case against Hermanus de Waal may be tested by the court. I submit that his evidence will be pivotal to the case.

PRESIDENT

Mr Watson?

WATSON

I have no objection, sir, if it advances the case against the accused, but the evidence led by my learned colleague should be watertight. All we have at this stage are the assertions of a man found under arms with De Waal, for all intents and purposes just another rebel who is now trying to get himself off the hook.

SIMON

Very well Your Honor, I would like to call Mr. Fred Hutchings, editor of the Cape Town Chronicle.


Hutchings is shown into the court and Anton stares at him, completely astonished. Hutchings looks around the room and catches Anton's eye. He takes the oath.

SIMON

Mr Hutchings, is the man at the table your war correspondent sent to the Orange Free State?

HUTCHINGS

He is.

SIMON

How long was he in your employ?

HUTCHINGS

He was transferred from a sister newspaper in Johannesburg at about the time of the outbreak of the war.

SIMON

As his editor, how did you find him?

HUTCHINGS

I found him independent-minded and capable, but I didn't like what I considered his pro-Boer sentiments and I didn't trust him. However, when the publisher decided he should go to the Free State, there was nothing I could do about it.

PRESIDENT

Mr. Simon, is this testimony for or against the prisoner?

SIMON

Apologies, Your Honour, we are getting to the point... Mr. Hutchings, were his dispatches from the front credible?

HUTCHINGS

Oh yes, they made good reading and sold many newspapers, especially the one alleging the imminent invasion of the Colony.

SIMON

(Aside) Which turned out to be accurate. Mr. Hutchings, are you aware that Potgieter's brother was in the same unit?

HUTCHINGS

Yes, I am.

SIMON

Do you think that had anything to do with his actions?

HUTCHINGS

I doubt it. Potgieter was never influenced by other people's opinions, I venture even his brother's.

SIMON

So, sir, you confirm that Potgieter was an excellent journalist, but that you continued to harbor distrust of him?

HUTCHINGS

Yes.

SIMON

So why are you here?

HUTCHINGS

His fiancée came to see me to plead for my support. At first I dismissed the idea with contempt, but then, with some consideration, I realized I had been mistaken - that this was a young man of great courage who was able to see both sides and put his principles before politics and prejudice, and was, after all, probably the type of person we will badly need in a newly unified South Africa when the war ends and Boer and Brit will have to work together. (Pause) Take his evidence seriously, he will tell you the truth.

Hutchings and Anton stare at one another.

A touch of Karoo, a taste of olives




Magnificent: The Swartberg Pass.

Finding oneself at 1500m above sea level in swirling mist, in a small car on a slippery, narrow gravel road with a sheer drop into the rocky unknown on the passenger side is not easy on the stomach, even after a hearty Oudtshoorn ostrich burger for lunch. I had driven over the historical Swartberg Pass before in good weather, but this was a little different.

In spite of our slow speed, before too long we passed Die Top, the crest of the pass, and were on our way down through the clouds to late afternoon sun-drenched sheer mountainsides of bright reds and oranges, greens and greys. The danger now past – and my partner Estelle’s grip on the ejector seat lever released - we pulled over to admire the stunning vista, allowing a few 4x4s with smiling, waving drivers to go past before making the final descent into the Great Karoo and Prince Albert.

The Swartberg Pass, a National Monument, with its steep zigzags and sudden switchbacks, is another masterpiece by Thomas Charles John Bain, the road engineer who built no fewer than 24 mountain roads and passes in South Africa during the 1800s. Begun in 1887, this one took six years to build with convict labour and is supported in many places by substantial hand-packed stone walls. No wonder the mortality rate among the workers was high.

Charming is too trite a word to describe the town of Prince Albert, named after Queen Victoria’s Prince Consort, Prince Albert of Saxe Coburg and Gotha. Unlike other such villages, it has not become overly commercialised or overtly fashionable. It’s too small and thoroughly historical for that. The supermarket is basic and the guesthouses, shops, galleries, cafés and restaurants are almost all too unusual to categorise.

Among the informal eateries, for example, are Café Albert, The Lazy Lizzard, La-di-Da farm stall, the Prince Albert Country Store and the Gallery Café, as well as the well-known Karoo Kombuis and the heartwarmingly old-fashioned Swartberg Hotel, where we enjoyed a tasty, well-presented lunch on the patio.

The town represents everything I find attractive about the Karoo, especially in spring when everything is fresh and green and blooming. The constant supply from the mountain gives residents apparently inexhaustible water via the leiwater system of streetside furrows which provide individual properties with a flowing, glittering stream of life for their plants in the rich soil.



Tranquil: Olive House on the outskirts of Prince Albert.

 What makes Prince Albert remarkable is its high content of beautifully preserved architecture - Cape Dutch, Victorian, Cape Cottage and Karoo buildings, 13 of them listed National Monuments. There is a set route one can follow to take in the beauty and historical interest of the built town, as well as other walks into the country.

Estelle and I were lucky enough find the perfect place to stay in order to get the full impact of this quaint semi-rural environment which is loaded with history: a 150-year-old cottage called Olive House, on the edge of the town. It belongs to resident Elaine Hurford, a freelance writer, communications consultant and estate agent with a passion for the beauty and vibrancy of her country and her town.

The house is spacious and comfortable, sleeping six, with two bathrooms, while at the same time providing an old world ambience, including a wood burning stove (as well as the electric equivalent and a microwave oven, if you prefer) and comfortable, down-to-earth furnishing. Sitting in the little dining room transported me to the days when one would have sheltered from the sun for a midday meal after a morning in the fields.

When I awoke on the first morning there I had a view of the real thing as I drew the curtains in the bedroom. As the sun rose, the next door farmer went about selecting some vegetables from the long rows flourishing near his house, tucked away in some trees, with the mountain backdrop as beautiful in the morning sun as in the evening.



Down on the farm: An Angora goat with newborn twin kids.

 Down a path along the edge of the farmer’s land we found a green camp full of female Angora goats – all heavily pregnant. One was in labour, with much agonised bleating. We watched as she gave birth, the little kid trying to stand up almost immediately. Within a short time others began to bear down and by that afternoon the camp was alive with newborn kids, mostly twins. Prince Albert is the centre of the mohair producing region of South Africa and is home to some champion Angora breeders. These animals were probably owned by one, judging by the quick and efficient matched marking and tagging of the kids and their mothers.

By mid-morning on Saturday Church Street was busy, with locals and visitors in and out of the shops, cafés and the Saturday market which offered plenty of local produce, including olives and olive oil, dried fruit, fresh fruit and other homemade delights.



Nearby is the Fransie Pienaar Museum which, like other small town museums, only more so, is packed with fascinating relics. It is named after the woman who started her collection on a farm in the district and later relocated it six times to accommodate its growth. It is now presented in the prominent house built by Jan Haak in 1906.

Being a Boer War history enthusiast, in the museum I soon found references to Gideon Scheepers, Deneys Reitz and Jan Smuts, all prominent Boer fighters who operated in the area. The story of the exploits of Scheepers has long fascinated me, and in a glass case below the photographic portrait of him taken in the prison at Graaff Reinet, is one of his stirrups. He was known for his dashing style of military dress and the stirrup appears to be of above average quality!

While operating against the British, Scheepers fell ill in the Prince Albert district with what is believed to have been appendicitis. Unable to continue on commando, he was left to his fate by his grieving men in a small house on a farm, where he was captured with alacrity by the British, nursed partially back to health, put on trial and later executed as a criminal at Graaff Reinet for trainwrecking, murder, arson and other charges. One of the protected houses in Prince Albert, the Doktershuis, was used at the time by a Dr Mearns who was summoned by Scheepers’ men to come and help him, but failed to treat his condition successfully.

In a separate room off the stoep of the museum is a fibreglass exhibition of the tracks left by a Bradysaurus – an animal about the size of a rhino - about 240 million years ago. The footprints were discovered in the Prince Albert district accidentally by Vivienne Muller in 1989 and confirmed by palaeontologists shorly afterwards.

 A highlight of our visit was being hosted to dinner in the restaurant at African Relish recreational cooking school by one of the partners, Jeremy Freemantle and his wife Di. The well-equipped school and restaurant, in central Prince Albert, offers a fun way to learn to cook in the true South African culinary tradition. It has an open-plan working kitchen which is designed for hands-on training and is easily accessible by visitors who can see the chefs at work. We loved the original fresh tastes of the dishes served, which are influenced particularly by the “heritage cooking” of the Khoi-Khoi veldkos from the area, as well as Malay, Dutch, English, French and Indian traditions. African Relish offers regular courses, and accommodation is available. It caters specifically for specialist groups, small functions and corporate team building – an ideal diversion for jaded city-dwellers.




Charming: The town has a high content of historical houses.

We took the easier, and equally scenic route back to the N2 via Meiringspoort with its spectacular cliffs and twisted rock formations (Vincent van Gogh would have flipped out in this place) via the beautifully maintained tarred road which winds along the floor of the gorge, crossing the Groot River 25 times in this gateway between the Little and Great Karoo. After emerging from the gorge you are welcomed by another lovely little historical village, De Rust, a recommended destination in itself, on the way back to Oudsthoorn which offers a whole world of Little Karoo attractions and places of interest.

Call Prince Albert Tourism on 023 541 1366.

This story appeared in Saturday Star Travel.