I tried to be brave and stick it out in Meiringskloof through the stormy weather, but I folded my cards early. On my last night there, I was lying in my tent thinking about sleeping, knowing a storm was blowing in, when I heard this distant rumbling sound. It grew louder and louder and louder, sounding like a runaway freight train hurtling its way towards me and my tent, and I just knew trouble was seconds away. It was super scary! And then it just stopped. And I heard the pitter, patter of light rain on my tarp roof and that was it. I felt relieved but also disappointed. “How do I test my tent setup, Universe, if you refuse to bombard me with hectic rain and send me running for brick cover, like you did before in 2021?” I think the Universe has decided I’m not worth scaring. Too much work for not enough reward. Of course you know how terrified I sometimes get, but please don’t let the Universe know. I hide it well. My poker face heart.
But that’s why it was my last night at Meiringskloof, because it was scary and I’m a big baby. The wind travels through the mountain gorge to make that noise, I now know. Still, it was time to pack up and go. The problem was, there were storms and heavy rains predicted for a week, within a 300km radius of where I was, so where was I to go? I decided to book myself into a brick tent near Van Reenen and shelter there for a bit. Van Reenen is my ancestral home, where my Dad’s family had a farm back in the day. My best holiday was the three weeks I spent there with my Dad and my Granny, without electricity and having to shower with a donkey and use a long drop. Not shower with a donkey. The shower used a donkey to heat the water. Not a real, actual donkey. It’s a wood-fired water warming setup. I know, I was also confused when I first heard about it. And the long drop was actually very cool. It faced the mountain, so it was a loo with a view, and often cows would come wandering past and give me that look that they give when they are not amused. I’d go for walks with my granny and protect her from the snakes we encountered. I always wanted to protect her by showing her how to run away fast and in which direction, but instead I’d just suggest we take a different path. She was probably doing the same with me.
I found a cottage at Oban Guest Farm outside Van Reenen and headed off there. As it turned out I had the option to stay on at Meiringskloof in one of their cottages, and there was another option nearby, but I had a strong feeling that Oban Farm was where I needed to be. And I was right. To get there I drove through Clarens and the Golden Gate Highlands National Park, which is a stunning area. My plans to have a quiet, relaxing lunch in Clarens were destroyed by some huge festival that was being held over that weekend, so I pushed on to Harrismith for provisions, but the roads were impossible to drive on in the town (potholes x 10000), so I kept my hungry self moving to Van Reenen and the half-way stop that I knew was there and would have coffee and food. When I got there it was closed. Shut for a major revamp. But, it was perfect, because hidden away at the back of the parking lot, behind the piles of gravel and bricks, I discovered a small Indian restaurant called Maharaj’s. Curry on a rainy day. Thank you Universe! I got chatting to the owner and it turns out that we share an existential angst around family having passed and feeling alone and what to do with the rest of our lives. Of course she has the best curry restaurant in the world (my tastebuds’ review), while I have a tent. I think though that we’ll both be ok.
Oban Farm has become an animal rescue and rehab farm, without Thea, the owner, planning it to be. She has such a big and generous heart that I’m not surprised that she is being asked to take in the hurt and abused animals. Usually one can feel the anxiety of abused animals, but somehow these Oban rescues seemed happy and content. There was William the 3-legged sheep, Angel the goose who has a wing deformity, and a host of broken but healing and happy souls, all curious and keen to interact. Within a day I felt weirdly very attached to the noisy geese, each with their own cheeky personality and story to tell (loudly).
The farm is also a retreat for healing, using various modalities, and Thea has a range of homeopathic remedies, made from plants organically grown on her farm. The few days I spent there felt so deeply healing and rejuvenating that I think the energy on the farm has some special qualities. On the one day I went for a walk in the rain and found myself walking almost in a trance. Slow walking, looking up at the leaves in the trees and down at the droplets on the blades of grass. Eventually I started to feel faint and I wasn’t sure if it was the energy of the farm or the old symptoms of my long-covid resurfacing, but my intuition feels that some purging of old, unwanted and stuck energies were being released on that walk. I’m going to return to Oban Farm soon to get some raw footage and images for marketing material that Inandre and I are hoping to put together for the various initiatives on the farm. It feels like something I’d like to contribute towards, especially since it’s located in the valley of my ancestors.
When I left Oban Farm to start heading up towards Johannesburg, I stopped at the Little Church (Llandaff Oratory), for coffee and cream scones yes, but also to leave a commemorative something for my Mom in the church garden. The last time I was there I left little wooden sculptures and stones for my family members who have passed, but I saw that the garden had since been dug up, and obviously the sculptures and stones were now gone. I thought about replacing them, but my feeling was that when I placed them there it was about symbolically remembering and honouring their lives, in that discreet moment. It was not to place a permanent “thing” to be revisited. I bought a cute duck figurine for my Mom-memory moment though, and I tried so hard to leave it in the garden, but I couldn’t, so I didn’t. She wanted to come with me. So, little Mom-memory duck is going to be travelling with me for a while, it seems.
