Vrystaat

There I was chatting to Jane and she happened to mention the super moon.  Closest it's been in 69 years - seem to remember there's something about that number, it's on the tip of my tongue........... Was just staggering to the bathroom and boom there it was in all it's glory.  Can you see how big it was?

The following morning it was time to move on to the fair city of Bloemfontein, actually 20 k's north of it to the Riviera - and you thought it was on the Med.  It was there I learned that the biggest joke on the planet had been elected POTUS.  Reckon they deserve him.

Bloemfontein has spread around Naval Hill but it is still a 190 ha game reserve, albeit without much game.

What it does have is a planetarium (closed for renovations) and a dirty great statue of Nelson.

Have to assume that this is his satellite dish.

Lots of pretty little Wahlenbergia's, the local version of blue-bells in flower, not sure of the species..

Speaking of satellite dishes, sometimes 'n boer moet net a plan maak.  I'd had all sorts of problems getting hooked up on the first site I tried so planned to move to one slightly higher up.  I hitched up using the Beast's magic mover's but when I tried to reverse the bugger wouldn't budge.  One of the drive wheels refused to disengage, not matter what.  Fortunately the owner, Jacques, knew where the local Caravan & Camping workshop was so I shot into town.  They were unable to come to my assistance but very kindly told me how to back it off manually, which involves twiddling a knob for about 10 minutes - something I now have a lot of experience in!  When I finally got to the new site I still couldn't get the signal so had to call in the cavalry in the form of Jacques who had offered to help.  After about an hour of mucking about still no luck so we gave up and had a couple of brandies instead.  He promised to return next morning with enough cable to connect to an existing dish on one of the cottages, but I fiddled around a bit before he got there and this was the result.  Nearly took it down again after watching the Boks at Twickenham.

Went out next morning to find this beauty had popped open, believe it to be Ammocharis but not sure which species.

Next stop was a place Jo and I had enjoyed before, Aldam Resort overlooking the Allemanskraal Dam, massive 100 site camp, just how I like it - empty.

Camp scroungers include, would you believe WHITE-BROWED Sparrow-weavers, though they don't weave at all well, there nests are merely untidy bundles of grass, the inside is quite neat though.

The men's ablutions have been claimed by a pair of Greater-striped Swallows - not so much because they have smaller stripes then their Lesser-striped cousins, but are physically greater in stature.  A thunder storm soon after I arrived saw them collecting mud for the upside-down igloos they build under the eaves.  Having been in the Cape for so long I wasn't prepared for the ferocity of Highveld storms and one of those monumental flash-bangs had me leaping out of bed and slamming windows.

This was taken just before the crowds started arriving for the weekend, the spit of land on the left was a popular launch site and quite a number of people camped there as well.  On Sunday evening I did the sun-downer thing and indulged in one of my favourite past-times, watching other people work.  There was a massive storm front moving in and most of the crowd were packed and ready to leave when the heavens opened.  There's always one - though in this case four.  I'd watched them take the flysheet off the tent and assumed the rest would follow shortly but the two men were involved with what-ever and the ladies just stood and watched.  Even when the first drops started to fall there was no action but when the full torrent hit they were galvanized - into getting their boat out of the water!  A couple of huge gusts flattened the tent and the last I saw was the ladies, still in their bikinis, hauling sopping bedding out of the carnage

While atlassing some of the pentad outside the resort I stumbled upon a group of one of my all time favourites.  As a child I had an aviary and used to trap some of the local seed-eaters to stock it.  My friends all thought me mad to have such dull creatures, but just look at that face.  Here they're known as Baardmannetjies (bearded men) which I think suits a lot better than Scaley-feathered Finches.

As with most dams in RSA, after two years of drought this one is only half full but never-the-less covers a massive area.  The Freestate area in general is looking a lot greener than the rest of the country I've been through recently.

The nearby Willem Pretorious NR beckoned and one of the first things on show was another of my favourites, Sable Antelope.  Not quite sure what had grabbed their attention though as there are no predators in the reserve.

At one of the look-out points it's evident how flat most of the countryside around here is.

I saw a small bird fly into a tree and stopping to try and find it noticed a large bird.  A Brown Snake-eagle, several hundred kilometers out of it's normal range, which resulted in a Provincial Rarity Form landing in my in-box as soon as I submitted an atlas card.  And not more than a half a kilometer further along the road..............

.......... a File snake lying so still I thought it was dead.  It then slid under the bakkie and I had to get out to make sure I didn't run over it - missed opportunity there Mr Eagle.  No they are not venomous and this is only the third I've ever seen, so a real treat.

As mentioned most of the surrounding area is flat but there are a few hills in the reserve and most of them contain the ruins of iron age dwellings and kraals made purely from stone.  One of the few remaining corbelled huts has been restored and either they were very small or slept sitting upright.  I could barely get my head through the door.

Found this old fellow - they get darker with age - slowly walking back from the dam but it was so far away I couldn't make out what the white collar was all about.  Could be natural I suppose.

The camp filled up over the weekend and to escape the crush I took sun-downers to the edge of the dam and just sat remembering how Jo used to rave about Africanf sunsets.

In the last blog was a picture of a rather splendid poppy and currently in the Freestate our local, but not quite as gaudy versions are plentiful.  Papaver aculeatum or the (extremely original) Orange Poppy is only about 50 mm in diameter but still quite eye-catching.

Once you've sorted all the bright and colourful birds, it's time to tackle the Little Brown Jobs.  One that gave me an enormous headache is the Melodious Lark and I eventually renamed it the Malodious Lark.  I recall a least three trips to various parts of the country with Jo in tow to places where I was assured there were dozens, but never found one.  After Jo died I went to Kruger on a fruitless chase for a Madagascar Cuckoo and overnighted twice at Chelmsford, where I was bound to find them.  Two more trips to the highveld failed and finally, Niall Perrins gave me GPS co-ordinates for a stake-out near Pretoria.  On arriving at the place I could hear the bird, but it was a black speck in the sky doing a display flight.  20 minutes of neck craning finally saw it drop - straight into the grass.  Though I chased it for another half-hour I never got more than a glimpse.  Driving through a huge expanse of grassland the other morning I caught sight of a chubby little budgie sitting on a fence and no sooner had I locked bins on it, it's beak opened and off it went on a display.  That was immediately followed by a call just behind my right ear and backing up slowly - bingo!  And he just sat, singing his heart out not 5 m away.  Not very Melodious by the way but a lot better than his cousin the Monotonous Lark.  Finally a hesitant tick went to a big, fat firm one - better than a lifer actually.

Also around were Ant-eating Chats and this one positively demanded that his portrait be taken. Pretty dull until they fly and the white on the wings, which you can see a vestige of here, becomes visible, but top marks for posture, my old RSM would be proud.

The Great Trek

In the last blog I went on about a butterfly being a lifer - turns out it wasn't.  I sent a pic to Steve Woodhall, he came back with three possibilities and the only way to differentiate is to examine their genitals.  Promised to get porno shots next time.  Had to go into Cape Town to pick up a door seal for the fridge and when I arrived back the inside of the Beast was at 43 C.  The time came to take leave of Robertson and head across the forbidding Karoo.  Had to take a parting shot.

Worcester to Touwsrivier is all wine country and as in all other vinyards I'd seen the guys doing the spraying have absolutely no protection whatsoever.  Shudder to think what it does to them after a few years exposure.

Heading for a three night stay in the Karoo National Park the effects of the drought were really apparent as were other things.  The government instituted a charge for plastic grocery bags which was supposed to reduce litter.  Unfortunately the people it was aimed at are the ones who create the biggest problem.  I've seen the 'disadvantaged' buying a loaf of bread and paying another 40 cents for a bag even though it's already in plastic.  Consequently the Karoo now has plastic trees and bushes, particularly around the lay-bys.  On the upside there were any number of brand new "windpompe" which were always a trademark of the area but they began disappearing many years back in favour of solar pumps.

For the first time in many hundreds of years lions may be heard in the Karoo as they were recently re-introduced to the Park.  Unfortunately SANParks decided to ensure the safety of the guests and whacked a dirty great electric fence around the whole camp.  To keep the farmers happy, ditto the Park but needless to say one of the males decided to go walk-about and it took them 9 days to locate him.  As the trackers pointed out this was a baie slim kat (clever kitty).  As in the Kruger there are places where you may leave your vehicle as long as you remain in the "designated area".  Quite how they train the lions not to enter these areas is the burning question as there are no fences around them.  One of them, at the top of Klipspringer Pass, allows a view of a road worthy of the Bain's but built many years after their demise.

There are many different types of roof tent but the one my neighbours' had was of the clam-shell variety and watching them fighting with it provided a few quiet sniggers.  They were at least my vintage and had to use a rope and a walking stick to prise it to open and thereafter rigging the tent resulted in enough grunting and groaning to do a porno movie proud.

I've been telling anyone who will listen that raptors in general are in dire trouble and this park tended to confirm it.  With supposedly the highest concentration of Verreaux's Eagles in RSA, nary a one was spotted in three days.  In fact the only birds of prey seen were these two Pale Chanting Goshawks or PCG's as they're known in the trade.

Most of the Park was desperately dry and nearby Barkley East's water supply dam has been dry for 18 months.  Which doesn't stop park staff watering the camp sites - even those with no grass - during the hottest part of the day.  I watched one sprinkler, which was mainly watering the road, and by the time it had completed a full rotation the ground was dry again.  In fact the whole park was desperately dry with very little in the way of game.

While trying to get a pic of a Fairy Flycatcher, which are hyperactive at the best of times, this dear little Pririt Batis landed not more than a meter away and said "Me, me, me............."  The call is extraordinary with up to 60 descending peeps - must breathe through their ears.

Currently reading a book by Barrie Humphries or Dame Edna.  Though fictional, it's probably based on personal experience but I loved his description of a woman's surgically enhanced lips.  "They were so big she could have applauded loudly with them.  How she managed to smoke a cigarette was beyond me, it was the equivalent of picking up a string of spaghetti with a boxing glove".

My final night here was spent having a very pleasant dinner in the restaurant and the choice of music was..................interesting.  An instrumental version of It might as well be spring, originally sung by Doris Day or some such, came on and I could remember all the lyrics, including the line, "And I feel so gay in a melancholy way", which now has a totally different connotation.  The song was popular over 50 years ago and I can't remember what I had for breakfast - astounding.

Time to move on over more of the vast Karoo to Gariep Dam.  Of interest on the way was the road gang cutting grass on the verges - the fact that it hasn't rained here for years didn't seem to deter them.  A group of koppies named the Three Sisters is very typical of this part of the Karoo.  Even though the dam is only 50% full, it still covers a massive area and the Forever Resort perched on the banks is rather special.  Their luxury campsites each have a toilet/shower/kitchen block, a perk I hadn't enjoyed since Cederberg.  There was a flower festival going on when I arrived and the second generation hippies on the next site were a bit much, but fortunately were gone the following day.

This is one of the only hydroelectic generators in RSA but the main purpose of the dam, completed in the 70's, is downstream irrigation.  The village built for the 'privileged' construction crew, up on a hill overlooking the dam, still boasts some charming houses

Hot weather necessitated a dip in a huge pool and the presence of a pair of White-throated Swallows ensured a return trip with camera and sundowners, to get the perfect photo opportunity.  They were nesting under a nearby gazebo but thought the pool steps made a handy perch.

The purpose of this wild, cross country gallop - I mean 1200 k's in a week is more than I did all year when I started - was to meet up with my darling cousin Sue and her mildly eccentric husband Giles.  My original plan was to go up the West Coast and turn right at Springbok which would have meant I'd be in the vicinity of Kimberly in early November.  They had already told me they were collecting one of those trailers that fold out into a two-star hotel from Paarl, and were planning a visit to Mokala.  As I'd been there before, I knew there was no ways I could get Beast to campsite so decided to slum it in the lodge at Mosu.  This involved leaving the van at Broadwaters, a beautiful spot on the banks of the Vaal River near Douglas.  When planning the route I ill-advisedly used Google maps which finds the shortest, not necessarily the best way between two points.  So when I left Gariep, I traveled 50 k's in the wrong direction only to be confronted with the prospect of 90 k's of dirt.  No thank you, turn around and now a 300 k trip turns into 500.  Fortunately I had a night to recover before doing the 170 k's, the long way round but ON TAR to get to Mokala.  On my way to their camp I met a curious Red Hartebeest..............

...........and a bunch of Springbok.  It's noticeable that a large number of local, affluent families have an adopted black child, seems a similar thing happens here.  Although this is only an abbereation of the norm, it is indicative of Mokala's origins as a hunting farm because the black phase is rare and was selectively bred to obtain a higher price.  Consequently they are far more common here then anywhere else I've been.

As Giles commented, my timing was perfect, they were just cracking out sundowners as I pulled up.  See what I mean about the hotel.

Noticing a flurry of movement while enjoying a beverage, Giles then pointed me in the direction of these two who were engaged in a fierce confrontation.  Flashing orange bellies and blue dewlaps it was 'n titaniese stryd or Titanic battle of note, unfortunately my reptiles book was ditched some time ago so couldn't identify them, some sort of agama I imagine.

The camp is built next to a waterhole which contained a couple of puddles of borehole water pumped from a nearby well and the steady stream of visitors included a Grey Rheebok, something not often seen anywhere but really surprising in this drought stricken area.

While at Broadlands the previous night I noticed this monster but was so exhausted that I didn't investigate, so when I arrived and found it parked next to Sue and Giles, eyebrows were raised. Turns out it belongs to friends of theirs, Rob and Debbie and the fact that he owns 10 farms in and around Clarens probably goes some way to explaining the magnitude of the thing.  You'd get a pretty luxurious house for the same price I'd imagine.

Have to have the ag shame - a Ground Squirrel doing the cute thing.

SANParks have had their cheque-books out since Jo and I were here and have more than doubled the size by buying the adjacent property which was also a hunting farm so there are now three camps.  On the way to visit, I noticed these streaks and stopped to get a shot, which I couldn't manage through the windscreen so...........  Busted, I was out of the car and didn't even hear them coming and the next thing was a couple of very angry rangers in my face and it took a lot of "Very sorry sir's" to get them out of it.  There was obviously a lot of moisture in the upper atmosphere which meant every passing plane left it's mark.

Always a favourite, a Meerkat - I'm telling you guys there's something that-a-way.

The Lilydale Lodge is up on a cliff overlooking the Riet River and the surrounding area is so different to Mokala you'd think you'd moved country - shades of Serengeti

A Wartamatic lawnmower............

...........and game appeared more abundant with fairly large herds of Black Wildebeest...........

................and a magnificent Gemsbok.  Looks like a return visit will be necessary, preferably after a bit of rain.

Round Robertson

According to the blurb, Robertson is surrounded by 49 million vines - wonder who counted.  There are 48 wineries that produce 199 000 tons of grapes, each ton of which makes about 720 bottles, are we a bunch of pisscats or what?  A few months back I discovered a very pleasant colombar made by one of my favourite vinyards, Van Loveren, so imagine my surprise when I found the estate right on the doorstep.  Immediately bought half a case at a really good price.

Went atlassing along the McGregor road a while ago and came across what appeared to be a huge dune that had been carved away by a river - guess the sea-level must have been a lot higher once as it's now at least 80 km from here.

Stopping on the side of the road to have a "listen" I noticed a pair of Blue Cranes striding magestically across a field.  My attention was momentarily diverted and when I looked back they appeared to be dancing, jumping up into the air flapping their wings and kicking their legs.  Only then did I see the menacing black form that was causing the fuss.  A Verreaux's eagle was mantling over the carcass of a chick which it had obvoiusly just snaffled in front of the parents and they were trying to drive it off.  The eagle unable to take off with its' outsized prey and had to defend itself by spreading its' wings and lunging repeatedly, causing them to back away.  They continued to hover calling anxiously to no avail, then part two of the drama started.  A Secretarybird wandered in stage left and decided the eagles' prey was just what it was looking for and began a concerted attack.  Just for good measure a pair of Pied Crows arrived to see what they could scrounge.  This was all happening about 300 m from where I was parked so the photo isn't great, however the eagle eventually prevailed and I left it munching the unfortunate chick.

Another morning was spent up in the hills where I spotted a splash of colour in the field near an abandoned farm.  Closer inspection revealed a splendid poppy, cannot imagine where it came from unless the local dagga growers have decided to go into something a bit more hardcore.

A patch of fynbos was littered with these sunshiney daisies Euryops tenuissimus..

Other than vines there are large orchards where most of the trees are allowed some freedom but these peaches are trained to a ridiculous degree - they look like they've been crucified.  Went for a stroll around the golf course and noticed a group of workers in another grove.  Took a while to figure it out but they were "thinning out" and at least half the fruit was on the ground - guess the bees are too efficient.

Shortly after moving to the new site I noticed a little fairy ring of arctotis had popped up through the lawn - enter the men with mowers which left me cursing as I'd wanted to get a pic.  No worries mate, two days later they were back.

Robertson, like many other villages in this area has it's share of beautiful old buildings, this one particularly appealed - the date on the gable is 1869.

Between here and McGregor is Vroulikheid Nature Reserve situated in this magical valley.

I spent a couple of hours birding and while there I was delighted to renew my acquaintance with a Booted Eagle - not once but three times, though it was probably the same bird.  Though their plumage is variable they have a trademark, two white patches at the wing root that look like headlights when they turn.

The predominant tree species is Acacia karoo and one young specimen took self protection to the extreme.

The Wine on the River festival happened over last weekend and as the camp was totally full I'd arranged to leave the Beast in storage while I gapped to the Tankwa Karoo.  Between here and Worcester another of those "wow" moments occurred...............

................and again deep in the Karoo.

Accommodation was provided at the delectably quirky Gannaga Lodge and owner Johann greets all his guests with "Welcome to the middle of nowhere".  As the fourth generation of Visagie, he didn't have any interest in farming so sold off all but 20 hectares to SANParks, converted the outbuildings and became a publican.  He confided that most people in the Karoo will speak English if they have to: "But remember that it's not a second language, it's a foreign language".  As Saturday was busy he was joined by Rrrrobert, a retired judge from Edinburgh who has a house in Middlepos 28 km down the road and is pretty fluent in Afrikaans.  He spends six months a year "back home" and says by the time he gets back he's forgotten most of it.

A few kilometers along an atrocious road brings one to the edge of a gorge carved out by the Renoster River, not quite Grand Canyon but impressive, looking downstream..........
.

................and up. The Tankwa Karoo NP started out as a 14 000ha. farm and currently stands at 147 000 ha. as more and more farms have been added.  SANParks are still buying as the aim is to create a corrodor from here to the Cederberg Mountains to allow free movement for the leopard population.  There are only males in the Tankwa so they currently have to make their way across farms whose owners are quite trigger happy.

The Cape Clapper Larks were in full voice and really entertained with their lovely display consisting of a steep climb whilst clapping their wings, followed by a swoop back down while emitting a long drawn out whistle.

Five of the lodges rooms are in Oupa se Huis that grandad build in the 20's, my room was previously the kitchen.

Getting to Gannaga involves negotiating 140 k's of mostly good dirt road but the last 20 require a kidney belt, particularly the pass right at the end.

When stopping to take the photo above this little fellow came and settled nearby a Karoo Widow               and a lifer for me, hey bird lifers are extremely scare so I'll take what I can get.

A whole day was spent in a fruitless search for Burchell's Courser which was the main reason for the visit but I did end up at Oudebaaskraal Dam which is the largest dam in South Africa built with private funds but apparently SANparks wants to blow a hole in the wall as it's not "natural".

On the way back to "civilization" I very nearly ran over one of these magnificent creatures - a Cape Cobra.  Didn't have time to get a pic before it ducked so had to resort to the internet.