A cool breeze welcomed me to a brand new day and the bright morning light fell through the tent window. Outside the birds were chirping and I saw a eagle overhead as I was putting on my running shoes. My legs felt like lead after the eight hours in the car the previous day and I was huffing and puffing up the steep incline that lead out of the valley and onto the dirt road that takes you to Nieu Bethesda. In the distance Compass Berg, towering out above the Karoo and behind me only vastness. I thought about the tribes that used to roam these plains, their knowledge of the land and the way they were hunted and killed, first by other local tribes moving through and then by European and British settlers. Their cave and rock paintings show epic hunting expeditions, Eland, Kudu and Elephant and the moon and stars. You can find these beautiful stories on the rock faces and cave walls everywhere in these parts, along with fossils, millions of years old. This is old country but no country for old men.
I packed some water and snacks and set out to explore the farm I'm staying at. I checked in at Ganora Guest Farm reception and I met the son of the owner named Louis. I big Karoo farmer with sweaty cap and red beard, skin turned to leather by the relentless sun. I was greeted with a firm handshake and friendly smile and he pointed out some landmarks along my route. The farm is huge and you could get lost I suppose but I could see for miles and anyway, there's always Compass Berg serving the purpose it was named after. I stopped after a few hours to drink some water and sit in the shade of an old poplar tree. A big tortoise appeared out of nowhere and disappeared without a sound. Ancient philosophers often explained that turtles carried our world on their backs and that the universe was just turtles stacked on top of turtles.Turtles all the way down I suppose.
I followed a jeep track over several mountains, turned a corner and stood head on to a magnificent red canyon snaking through the desert. In the distance herdsmen were sorting through a flock of sheep next to an old windmill and water troughs. I could hear their whistles and calls and the dust twirled around the holding pen. It was getting hot and close to noon. I made my way home and cooled off in the swimming pool while I put on some water for a well deserved coffee. I had a nap and tried to write a song. Nothing came. I decided to work and edit the stuff I had written prior to the trip. This place is inspiring but also overwhelming. Listening to James McMurtry led me to revisit lovers lost and places abandoned. I thought of the beautiful bartender on Merrill Ave and the way she ordered her coffee without cream or sugar making sure the barista got it right. I remembered the icy wind blowing through her soft brown hair and cigarette smoke curling through her long elegant fingers. I wondered if she ever quit. She always said she would like to. It made me smile, I have my doubts.
My neighbours at the campsite is a semi retired couple from Johannesburg and they invited me for some beers and dinner. Peter and Ansu have been on the road for two and a half months driving mainly dirt roads and camping wherever their travels and curiosity leads them. We talked about our families, the city and I listened while they shared some incredible stories of their time out on the road, the people they had met and the places the they have been. I love meeting people on the road. I love to hear the stories and I carefully file them away in that place where I keep ideas for songs and poems. Characters in this crazy adventure called life.
I had a little buzz on from the ice cold beer and retired to my tent with my mind momentarily at ease while the last embers of our cooking fire glowed in the desert darkness. Another great day in Africa.
JB