THE RIVER OF REMEMBRANCE

I drop my backpack and it hits the ground with a thud. Having just climbed almost 6km in a decidedly upwards direction, I’m finally standing on top of Komsberg, looking over the Moordenaars Karoo towards Laingsburg where we began our hike six days ago. I’m not sure who the alleged murderer was that gave this valley its name, but I’m convinced it’s the hill I just climbed…

The Buffels River and her tributaries stretch out below, carving deep, dry arteries into the land. In the rare event of rain, which occurs mostly in the summer months, the river will flood. It’s mid-September now and the riverbed lies empty and waiting, much as it was almost 40 years ago on the day of the Laingsburg flood.

My sense of time is warped; the Karoo has an uncanny knack of overwhelming frivolous concerns with the immediate present. My life in Cape Town feels like a lifetime ago, although it was only last week when I locked my front door.

DAY 1/12,5 KM

Swimming with the Shosholoza Ladies

I’m on my way to hike the Buffels River/ Moordenaars Karoo trail. Everything I will need over the next six days is packed into a 50 ℓ ammo box – from spare socks and plasters to my down pillow and a bottle of red wine. It is a slackpacking trail after all; 90 km of trekking up the dry bed of the Buffels River to its source