1.1KM FROM CAPE TOWN,
SOUTH AFRICA
33.9215° S, 18.4150° E

After a couple of very, very cold nights, where we slept swaddled beneath our huge pile of duvets and blankets, the morning we were due to leave, the snow finally fell as the sun started to rise. Concerned about getting stuck in the middle of nowhere, we opted not to venture into the thicker snow areas. On the walls of Africa’s highest pub, we’d noted the newspaper clippings of stranded visitors who’d been snowed in at the very top in previous years, and with most of our wardrobe suited better for balmy Jozi, we decided not to risk it. But nevertheless, oh my goodness, it was breathtakingly beautiful! As we drove a little higher, the cold, which was tolerable a few meters down, became painful, and after much shivering and slow movements (altitude + slippery), we enjoyed the fresh white powder coating from within Lula instead. The icing sugar peaks rolled by and all was still, quiet and frozen, except for the brave shepherds and their animals with whom we shared the road. To think we have places like this in Southern Africa, so contrary to the traditional savannahs, is incredible! Where else in the world will you find everything from tropical shores, dense and beautiful forests, arid deserts, bushland full of wild and wonderful creatures, and high rising snow-topped mountains?

As we bade goodbye to Lesotho, fog began to roll up Sani Pass and soon the views disappeared into the white cloud. We greeted the tour drivers on their way up and confirmed that the next day indeed, snowfall was expected to be even more epic. We would miss it, but what an adventure it’d been anyway. Right at the very bottom of the rocky and treacherous pass, the road works had halted as the rain began to blow down in heavy-hitting sheets, which meant that the untarred roads were now sludgy and slippery. For a horrifying few moments, Lula lost grip, turned sideways, and slid uncontrollably towards the edge of a drop. Stopping just in time, we sat for a few moments and wondered if it was likely we’d see anyone else for the day, but sliding Lula sideways, we managed to crab our way out of a near accident. A moment, and a place we’ll never forget!

The route begins at 1500m and climbs to 2876m above sea level, and clouds, actually. It was obvious, after jogging backwards and forwards from the car (as videographers often do), that the thinner air was going to impact our stay, and make us move around at a much slower pace. The reward for our efforts were worth it though, because as we arrived at the Lesotho border, we were greeted by the officials – five very bouncy puppies, presumably belonging to shepherds, welcomed us to the very top of Africa’s highest mountain pass. We passed quickly through border control (I’m not sure they even saw my face, as I’d allowed the puppies to pile on top of me) and headed to Africa’s highest pub, where we booked in at the Backpackers for the night.

Surprisingly, Lesotho’s main road was recently tarred and beautifully smooth. What an incredible contrast to the even higher mountain peaks, the ochre and seemingly barren landscapes, and the stone rondavels of the local communities. Cars are scarce too, but the road was often busy with shepherds and their dogs, herding sheep and pack donkeys, so every now and then we had to slow down for the Sotho locals, all bravely facing the cold, wrapped in their traditional Basotho & Lekhokolo blankets. The way that men wear these traditional blankets is based on the traditional Kaross, an animal skin cloak although their transformation to “factory-woven textile” is attributed to King Moshoeshoe I.

Although we were keen to explore Lesotho, our timing was a little off. A mid week, mid winter, mid covid adventure meant that we spent most of the day close to the border, but that was quite alright, as Lula was chilly, and so were we. I’d have liked to see the Subeng dinosaur footprints that are preserved in sandstone and feature the prints of a variety of prehistoric animals which lived approximately 200 million years ago, but next time!

After a couple of very, very cold nights, where we slept swaddled beneath our huge pile of duvets and blankets, the morning we were due to leave, the snow finally fell as the sun started to rise. Concerned about getting stuck in the middle of nowhere, we opted not to venture into the thicker snow areas. On the walls of Africa’s highest pub, we’d noted the newspaper clippings of stranded visitors who’d been snowed in at the very top in previous years, and with most of our wardrobe suited better for balmy Jozi, we decided not to risk it. But nevertheless, oh my goodness, it was breathtakingly beautiful! As we drove a little higher, the cold, which was tolerable a few meters down, became painful, and after much shivering and slow movements (altitude + slippery), we enjoyed the fresh white powder coating from within Lula instead. The icing sugar peaks rolled by and all was still, quiet and frozen, except for the brave shepherds and their animals with whom we shared the road. To think we have places like this in Southern Africa, so contrary to the traditional savannahs, is incredible! Where else in the world will you find everything from tropical shores, dense and beautiful forests, arid deserts, bushland full of wild and wonderful creatures, and high rising snow-topped mountains?

As we bade goodbye to Lesotho, fog began to roll up Sani Pass and soon the views disappeared into the white cloud. We greeted the tour drivers on their way up and confirmed that the next day indeed, snowfall was expected to be even more epic. We would miss it, but what an adventure it’d been anyway. Right at the very bottom of the rocky and treacherous pass, the road works had halted as the rain began to blow down in heavy-hitting sheets, which meant that the untarred roads were now sludgy and slippery. For a horrifying few moments, Lula lost grip, turned sideways, and slid uncontrollably towards the edge of a drop. Stopping just in time, we sat for a few moments and wondered if it was likely we’d see anyone else for the day, but sliding Lula sideways, we managed to crab our way out of a near accident. A moment, and a place we’ll never forget!