Eish!

OK game viewing is one thing, but this might be a bit close for comfort.............





In fact a closer look reveals that this elephant probably does NOT have the most honorable intentions towards the little Citi Golf! Don't you just love the look on the guy's face? And the fact that the girl is so rivetted by what she is seeing on that side of the car that she has failed to notice the trunk heading for her window behind her! A friend sent this photo by e-mail, so I don't know who took it, but well done whoever you are, it is priceless!!

Musi's Farm and Malealea Resort..... an inspiring success story

Sometimes, in the least expected places and circumstances, you come across people who touch you deeply and leave you feeling awed and humbled. Many people react this way in the presence of Nelson Mandela. I would love to have had a chance to meet him. However, when we were staying in Malealea, in central Lesotho, we went on a guided walk through the adjacent village, and to a local farm. And we had a similar experience. So I want to introduce you to the Musis, and show you what they have achieved on their little farm (about 4 and a half acres.) I feel really privileged to write this post, and share these picures with you.



To set the background, I need to tell you that the erosion of the soil is such a severe problem in Lesotho that even as a tourist, it is one of the prominent things that strikes you as you drive around. Deeply eroded gullies (or dongas, as we call them here) are everywhere, often looking like bleeding scars on the landscape, as the rich red topsoil is exposed in convoluted and fantastically shaped, strangely beautuiful ravines. Looking back over the photos I took of the great landscapes we saw around every corner, I see that almost all contain at least 1 severe gully. Look above the conical hut in this picture and you will see a deep one. I commented to Max several times along the way that it seemed as if the rich topsoil of the country was bleeding into the sea. It was disturbing to see, because in any country that relies on subsistence farming to feed its people, good soil is vital.

I have been waxing eloquent about the place, it is all so picturesque and feels like one has travelled back in time, but the reality is that life is very tough for these people. Even in a good year, it is a hand to mouth existence, and it just takes unusually heavy rains, or conversely a drought, to cause severe hardship.

Much of the erosion has been brought about by overgrazing. In many African tribes, a man's wealth is measured in the number of cattle he owns, and so this problem is common throughout Africa. One sees it often in areas where domestic animals graze so much of the grass that the roots can no longer bind the soil when it rains.

In Lesotho, which is nicknamed "the mountain kingdom", the problem is much worse, because the land has extreme slopes over so much of it, and rain therefore washes heavily down the sides, ripping the soil off as it goes.

Because I had been saddened by the extent of the damage, as we travelled through the rural areas, I was particularly interested when I saw a leaflet at Malealea about a local farmer who was working at reclaiming his farm. So we asked to go on a guided tour.

To get there, we went through a village (stopping on the way to see how sorghum beer and local wine are made. The grapes are bought, and stored for 2 days in a plastic bucket, with water and yeast. I asked why they didn't grow their own grapes, but was told it was difficult, due to the climate.)

We crossed some barren looking ground, with herds of cattle being moved around. They wore cowbells, and created incredibly melodic music as the different deep toned bells rang with their movements. In fact it is a sound that will always bring a warm glow in me as I associate it with this magical trip to Lesotho.

We went through some bad gullies, and again I was struck by the sad erosion. This is the land next to the Musi's Farm, and is how theirs looked 20 years ago.

But suddenly, we rounded a bend, and ahead of us was what looked like an oasis in the desert. The first thing I noticed was a grape vine on a pergola, I guess it particularly caught my eye because I had just asked about growing them here. Then behind it I saw the wonderfully built stone house. It was really chalk and cheese compared to the roughly built huts we had just walked past. The parallel rows of wonderfully cut and bevelled stones looked as if they had been built by a master craftsman. Here was someone who really took a pride in their work.

Our guide Solomon then introduced us to Albert, the home owner. Albert likes to test people. He just stood and stared at us. We looked around, as if to ask Solomon if we were expected there. He continued to say nothing, but took a few kernels from a cob of corn that had been roasted over an open fire, and then passed it to me. I thanked him and took a couple (YUM) and passed it back. It went on to Max, then Solomon. All this time, I was not sure if he knew why we were there, or if he could speak English. Only when I turned to ask Solomon to please thank him, and ask if we could see the farm, did he speak up, in perfect and fluent English, and welcome us!

He asked why we were there, and I told him how I had been really pained by the soil erosion I had seen throughout the areas we had travelled to, and that I had been excited to see the leaflet that spoke of his farm and the fact that he was busy reclaiming it. When he realised we were seriously interested, he told Solomon that he would guide us himself. Just then an elderly lady arrived and shook our hands. She introduced herself as Esther Musi. What a delightful woman, she was so warm and dignified and inviting.

I commented on the superb construction of her house, and she told us, with obvious delight, that it was built by her husband. He had hired some stone masons to build their house, and they made a start. Then they asked for an advance on their money, as they had to go and attend a funeral, and he never saw them again. He was so angry that he decided, if guys like them could build, so could he, and he set about building his own house. You can clearly see in the stonework where they left off and he began, because his work is so much better!

I would have loved to spend more time with Esther Musi, but at that point 2 other tourists arrived, and Albert told her he would take us around and she could talk to them. So off we went. At that point I didn't know what the relationship between them was. There didn't look like an enormous age difference, but then I have always been bad at judging people's ages. You could have knocked me over with a feather when he told me that she was his mother, and that he was 45 and she was 81! My gosh, I told Albert she put me to shame, I am always rabbitting on about how old and ricketty I am, and here was this amazing woman, still running her farm, prancing around like a mountain goat over rough terrain, and as sharp as a tack to talk to.

Esther is an educated and articulate woman. This may not sound like a surprising statement, but it is very unusual for a woman of her generation, living in her circumstances. I instantly liked and admired her, she is a strong minded woman. Apparently she was a teacher and her husband a motor mechanic. Albert too, although I did not ask about his education, is clearly a highly intellegent, articulate and well informed man.

The first place we went to was his Father's grave, which was very apt, as it was his father, Fanuel Musi, who had the vision and determination to start the project 20 years ago.

Standing next to the grave, Albert pointed down the hill, and across the valley to the land on the other side, and began to tell his story. One night 20 years ago, his father, who was already in his 60's at the time, wanted to go across the valley to check on his cattle on the other side. But heavy rain had washed a deep gully across his land and he was unable to cross. He went to Esther and said, with her permission, he was about to embark on a project to "put and end to this nonsense."

Albert was in his 20s at the time and recalls how hard they all worked. This is a family farm, and the whole family rolled up their sleeves and got involved.

The vision was to build dams of loose stone across the gullies, so that, as the rain ran down carrying topsoil, the water would drop the soil as it flowed through the stone walls, and do the work of filling the gullies. It was extremely hard work. There was no mechanical equipment available, no money to hire help, so the family had to manually quarry the rock themselves, cart it around the farm, and still continue working to earn a living at the same time.


Instead of most of the farm being a network of random gullies, one clear watercourse has been created, and planted with willows, poplars and other waterloving trees to bind and stabilize the banks.


Rocks held together with chicken wire hold the steeper parts together and prevent wash-aways.

And Fanuel Musi's wisdom did not end in the practicalities of reclaiming his land. He also knew that when a family labours hard together, it also needs time to rest. So once the really hard work of quarrying and carting the stone had been done, they worked together to creat a rest place on top of the rocky outcrop that had supplied the stone for the project. It is a wonderful spot, shaded by trees, with benches made of stone from the site, and appropriately enough, (I'll tell you why just now...) a great view across the valley to Malealea lodge.



In a land mostly devoid of trees, Malealea Lodge and Musi's farm stand out like oases in a desert.
As the years have gone by, more and more land has become available for planting and a careful choice of plants has meant that Albert is now able to provide everthing his family needs, and only buys sugar, and cooking oil now.


Fruit trees have been planted, including apples, apricots, chestnuts and peaches. (Albert, when you read the hard copy of this, that I am sending to Malealea, you will have to remind me of the fifth one, I have forgotten it!)

Here, he points out the bullrushes,

and explains how pillows are made using the fluff from their seed heads.

Sisal is grown, and the leaves sold to a company that uses the juice in face creams and cosmetics.

He points out the reeds that are grown in the watercourse, to supply thatching material for his family, and the surplus goes to the village.
Barley is grown to feed his cattle after they have worked hard drawing the ploughs, and vegetables are grown to feed the family.


Bear in mind when you look at all this that you cannot judge it through the eyes of those accustomed to first world farms that are run on huge budgets and with modern machinery. This was a subsistence farm, that was so damaged it could barely support 1 family, and it has been reclaimed and made productive enough to feed the family and start generating an income as well as jobs for others, with no capital whatsoever in the early years. As it began to generate an income, they were able to buy extra items to help the productivity, like this water tank, which is gravity fed from the water-course higher up, and in turn feeds a tap used to irrigate the good selection of vegetables. Crops are rotated regularly.


The farm now manages to produce a crop surplus and supplies the nearby Tourist Lodge of Malealea, with whom they have a partnership. At Malealea, they are a wonderful bunch. Instead of just raking in the bucks from their tourist venture, they are working hand in hand with the community to uplift the villages around them.

They arrange guided tours into the villages so that the people can earn money as guides, or showing how traditional beer and wine are made. Local pony owners are employed to take tourists on Pony Treks through the mountains, thus bringing Malealea an interesting and authentic activity to offer their visitors, and providing income for the pony owners at the same time. They ask visitors to sponsor trees, so that more gullies can be planted and reclaimed, and they are involved in health programmes and schools. They buy as much of the produce as possible locally for the restaurant at the resort.

That is where the Musi's farm comes in, they host tours of the farm on the one hand, and also supply produce to the resort.
Bouquets to you guys at Malealea, you are the sort of tourist operators who give the industry a good name, and who , as visitors, we are delighted to support!



It was really a privilege to meet the Musi family and see what can be done with a vision and a lot of hard work.


Albert's fondest dream is to own a small tractor, which would make life a lot easier on his land. We told him we are not in a position to help financially, but that we are able to spread the word, and would mention it, and if it is meant to be, someone who reads this will capture the vision and make it happen. I don't know what the logistics would be, of buying an old second hand tractor and getting it to him in Lesotho, but if anyone is able to help, I'd be willing to communicate with him or Malealea to set it up.

The question one is forced to ask is, if this is such a success, why is it the only farm in the area that has tried it? I can only assume it is the familiar "prophet not recognised in his own hometown" syndrome, but it would be wonderful if word of Musi's Farm got around and the lifeblood of Lesotho could stop bleeding into the sea!

On camping..........

Our recent trip to Lesotho took us to some wonderful parts of the country, but we had such a short time there that we barely scratched the surface of this fascinating place. One thing we hoped to do was avoid the more developed areas to the West, and try and see more of the rural areas, which are largely unspoilt by Western influence. So we opted to go to Mount Moorosi first.

It is in the South and the chalets there have only been recently developed. They are still comparatively rustic, which appealed to us. I have shown you the little stone backpackers hut we stayed in already, in the post about climbing Mount Moorosi.

Here is another view of them, is that not the most wonderful setting??!! At this stage there are only 4, and one of them is inhabited by Jerry, who is the guide. The inhabitants of these huts use the same ablution block as the campers, a little building with two loos, a washing up area and two showers, using water from a tank up the hill, and heated by solar power.

In addition there are about 3 en-suite chalets, which are a slightly less basic version of the huts, with their own bathrooms, but with less charm as they are built of cement blocks, rather than in the traditional way. There is also a house, with a kitchen, lounge, bathroom and 2 bedrooms. We loved the lack of electricity and phone signals, it felt like a real holiday, and made us feel that we were having an authentic taste of the country.

This is a view of Jerry, taken from the top of Mount Moorosi, overlooking the Lodge below. The little dots at the fork of the dirt road, which are the chalets, will give you an idea of how basic it all is and how high we climbed!

The backpackers chalets consist of a circular hut, about 4m in diameter, constructed initially of sticks, which are then plastered on the inside with a mixture of mud and cow dung, and on the outside have a layer of sandstone, with cowdung instead of cement.

There is a flimsy pine stable door and two small windows on either side, which open inwards and are held closed with bent nails. The old curtains are just hung across the windows with a piece of string held by a nail on either side.

As far as furnishing goes, it consists of two beds (the real bottom of the range inner spring type where the springs say "hello" to the ribs and hips all night !) two plastic chairs, and a home-made particle board and pine table.

The low roof is thatch, and in this case the floor was cement, but traditionally in the villages it would also be cow dung.

We had booked to go there as campers, but ended up staying in one of the little backpackers huts. To get the full picture about this, you need to read Max's entertaining post about how he was "traumatised" about camping, as a kid. This post sprung from much friendly banter between us... he is HOOKED on buying camping gear, but then is full of excuses when it comes to actually using it, usually revolving around needing perfect conditions for doing so! So eventually I said "you can only buy more gear when we have actually been camping!" Then my evil twin took over, and I proceeded to book us in here, in the mountains, in the beginning of winter ....... hehehehehe!

So anyway, it was decided, we would camp on this holiday, but only where we were able to stay for more than one night. The reason for is is that the saleman saw us novices coming when he sold us our tent. It looked great at the Kirkwood Festival, all set up on the lawn, spacious, with plenty of space on either side of the blow-up mattresses for other gear, and a little extra bulge at the doorway providing space to set up a table and 2 camp chairs if the weather is foul and you need to spend time in the tent. Double layer to keep the heat and rain out... high enough to stand up in... and all sorts of useful pouches and pockets for stashing things on the sides. All in all it seemed like a great tent....

BUT .... big BUT..... it is complicated to erect and must have more pegs than any other tent in the history of the world! We have only used it 3 times so far. (... He he, each night we sleep in it, Max divides the cost by the number of nights, and it is still more expensive than a comfortable Bed and Breakfast!!!) and each time someone has seen us battling and come across to help!

So to go through all this for one night is just not worth it, we need at least a day of respite in between! Because of this, the plan to camp throughout the holiday had already been somewhat diluted, because instead of spening 2 nights at Rhodes, near the Lesotho border, we took so long to get there that we spent two nights on the road, arriving at each village to overnight as it was getting dark, and there was no way we would have been able to get "the monster tent" up in those circumstances, so we opted for B&Bs, and I was more than delighted to let him off the hook!

This is our room the stunning Granny Mouse House in Hogsback, I forgot to take a photo of the Topiary lodge in Elliot, but it was a delightful and comfortable little log cabin.

So fast forward to our arrival at Mount Moorosi............. As usual it was getting dark, because we spent so much time enthusiastically stopping for photos on the way there. The campsite was pointed out to us... the patch of bare land you see in the photo above, between the wild flowers and the hut. It was mostly rocky bare soil, and unsheltered, and a freezing wind was sweeping down from the mountains as the sun sank fast below the surrounding peaks. We looked at the site, then at each other, and at the inviting little hut across the way, and I said, "shall we upgrade?" Max instantly agreed, and I was teased for the rest of the holiday for being the one who chickened out of camping!

We chose the little huts rather than the en suite chalets, because it felt like less of a cop-out. Apart from actually raising the monster tent (henceforth referred to as TMT) and blowing up the air matresses, we used most of our camping gear. By the time we had packed it all in, the place was very cosy (and I hope you will notice from the picture that I was NOT exaggerating when I said we have accumulated a ridiculous amount of camping gear!!)

It was wonderful there, we so enjoyed emerging the next morning in the freezing morning air, and sitting in front of our hut sipping hot coffee and watching the sun begin to rise over the mountains, it is one of those blissful moments I shall remember all my life!

Jerry took this photo for us as we were about to leave on the third morning... we had really grown attached to that little hut!

We then moved on to Malealea, driving via the rough but unbelievably scenic back road, will post some pics of that soon.

So, we arrived with enough time to tackle TMT, and set to it with vigour. A while later, a very kind gentleman, who must have been watching our struggles with some amusement, strolled over and offered to help. Eventually it was up, and we sat outside with great relief and satisfaction!

The neighbour came past to inspect it and cluck disapprovingly at our crooked results, but hey, we were just glad it was standing, we were way past caring about perfection by then! We spent two FREEZING and uncomfortable nights in the tent, defiantly resisting the temptation to upgrade into the wonderful inviting chalets nearby. By this time it was a matter of pride for both of us, and no amount of Antarctic air, deflating matresses or sloping ground were going to deter us! It was almost a relief when it was time to pack up on the third day!

Max was even remarkably cheerful about trying to fit all our stuff into the back of the bakkie, a task he normally finds a bit tedious!

And the neighbour stopped by again, just to make sure we were not leaving any of the huge array of camping gear behind! TMT remained firmly in the back of the bakkie for the remaining two nights of the trip, and the jury is still out on whether it will ever leave its bag again!

Skywatch Friday... racing the storm

On the way to Lesotho last week, and winter paid a visit!

Getting there.......... on the road again!

In a fit of enthusiasm to show you the splendours of Lesotho, I seem to have jumped right in with photos from there, so today I will backtrack slightly and show a couple of images of the actual journey to get there.... again just scratching the surface, there is still SOOOOOOOO much to see, but here is a start, the fascinating variety of landscapes we drove through, with the road as a common factor in this series, .... and please excuse the odd bug splat and reflection, some were taken as we were driving along! One thing we decided at the start was that, wherever possible, we would avoid the main roads, and stick to backroads, and preferably ones we had not driven before.

The backroad to Alicedale winds through typical bush found in the southern inland region of the Eastern Cape.

We shared the road with an interesting selection of vehicles, animals and humans along the way! This Taxi is in the charming little village of Alicedale.

We also decided that the whole journey would be the holiday, and not just the destination, so we did not rush, and whenever we spotted something interesting we did a detour to check it out. Like this strange broken down structure just outside Alicedale. Old aquaduct?

Of course one of the things about some backroads is that you have to hop in and out to open farm gates, luckily at that stage I was driving (I ADORE long distance driving, especially on bad roads) and Max got to be official opener and closer! But he was happy, it took him back to his childhood on the farm, so we were both in our element! Some of the roads cut through Game Farms, so we were also able to do a bit of free gameviewing along the way!

We finally got to the delightful little village of Hogsback, up in the mountains, for our first night's stop. Lots more about that later, it's a magic place that deserves a few posts of its own!

Leaving Hogsback on the back road to Cathcart.....

we averaged about 20km per hour on this road, not because it was bad, but because it was so stunningly beautiful around each bend that we KEPT stopping for pictures!

This has to be the most amazing time of the year to travel these roads, with the interesting skies and fabulous autumn colours.

It got cloudier and colder as we approached Elliot, for our next night's stop, and we even spotted snow on the distant mountains, but we were chasing the rapidly sinking sun, and had to find accommodation for the night before dark, so there was no time to stop for pix.

The next day dawned cold and very overcast, by the time we got to the top of the Barkly Pass, we were right in the clouds....

After the Barkly pass, heading towards Barkly East, it got quite stormy, and was really cold, but that gave the landscape a great brooding look!


The landscape changed around every corner, from spectacular sandstone formations.........

........To rounded formations with bare white rock gleaming through the grasses. We had still not seen the snow from the previous night, so we assumed it was these white patches we has seen glinting in the last light.

but then we rounded another bend, and there it was, snow, YAY!

From there we were heading for the hills, through areas scattered with rural villages...

...with the anticipation growing as we approached the Mountain Kindom.......

Until finally, there it was ahead of us.... Tele Bridge border post, and a short drive into a different world!