Being Gobsmacked By Beauty - Nieuwoudtville And Biedouw Valley

In the grand scheme of things, three OMGs in one day aren’t that bad, but you see, I’m not that sorta gal. But then again, I’m known to have a mouth on me. My expletives were utterly spontaneous; what my eyes saw, my mouth exclaimed before my brain had caught up.

My most vivid memory of this two-stop trip was the extraordinary change in colour as we came round the mountain and off the Botterkloof Pass, where the escarpment turned pink with kilometres of shocking pink, magenta, and cerise, making it a truly unforgettable sight. 

Nieuwoudtville lived up to its promise as the flower (a bulb, but allow me a bit of poetic licence here) capital of the world once again. Not only was the village’s Main road a kaleidoscope of colour, but ladies dressed up, wearing traditional bonnets that protected their faces, had set up stalls serving local takeaway treats such as Vetkoek, skuinskoek, pancakes and a host of other lip-smacking tasties. A festive air greeted us. We pulled in at the fuel station to fill up with diesel, giving me my first chance to capture close-up pictures of a patch of daisies on the pavement. In private gardens, fruit and almond trees were covered in blossoms in shades of pink, white and cream.

Lunch, we decided, would most definitely be among the Namaqualand daisies and some early-flowering bulbs, and NOT indoors. Katsterte (cats’ tails) had pushed their heads up and towered above the daisies, swaying gaily in the midmorning breeze.

As is our custom, we unpacked our table and chairs. We brought out the bright Tofo tablecloth and sat down with our drinks, enjoying our delicious hotdogs and tomato "smoor". Passers-by didn’t bat an eyelid; it’s not unusual to see tourists taking pleasure in their surroundings in springtime.

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“Make haste while the sun shines” was precisely what we did after lunch, and soon we lumbered off to see what the afternoon held in store for us. Fallow farm fields were ablaze with vibrant colour all the way to the iconic Matjiesfontein farm, our intended overnight stop.

Colour carpeted the landscape at Matjiesfontein.  We spent hours tiptoeing through the daisies, identifying and photographing them, and pausing to enjoy nature's abundance.

After setting up our campsite, Butch unstrapped our bikes. We rode along farm roads, enjoying the saturated colours of the sunset and the deepening hues of the buds closing for the night.

With the quiet hum of a generator in the background, we listened to the chatter of Cape Weavers as they built nests, the fussy females inspecting their mates’ labours. The occasional male was rebuffed, all the while frenetically swizzling, collecting leaves and sticks.

A Namaqua mist descended upon us as soon as the lights came on. Butch would not have to braai in the cold. We had a delicious soup, specially prepared and frozen for the occasion. With mugs of hot milk, we crept under our feathers and enjoyed a chocolate bomb as silence fell. Man and mouse, exhausted from a busy day.

The Honey Badger is a conversation starter, and wherever we go, someone inevitably comes calling with stories of their overland adventures or their desire to live the dream. While I showered, Butch had the chance to chat with our camping neighbour. My sympathies go out to him; he had to stop travelling in his motor home because of physical frailty, but his wife assured me she’s delighted with their Oz tent and 15-inch blow-up mattress! Good luck folding that tent, given our experience with the pop-up.

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By all accounts, the weather would be inclement. We resumed our trip on the dirt roads and mountain passes, traversing three passes into the Biedouw Valley for lunch. These were Botterkloof Pass on R364, Klipfonteinrant Pass on R364, and Hoek-se-Berg Pass into the Biedouw Valley.

Whoever said, “every landscape captures the imagination with its unique splendour,” was 100% correct. Sometimes barren, often stark and mostly inhospitable, the unforgiving Namaqualand opens up in spring to celebrate with gratitude after a kinder, wetter winter.

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The Biedouw Valley, which I thought I’d seen before, surprised me again with its breathtaking patchwork of orange, yellow, ochre, white, and green, an experience I highly recommend to anyone seeking natural beauty. 

Instead of rolling through nonchalantly, as I’d anticipated, we had to stop. Every few metres, we kept going until we reached the valley, where we stopped for our picnic lunch. We sat in chairs and took it all in. There’s no other way to do it.

After lunch, with tummies full and our whistles watered, we waded through a sea of blooms.  We sat for a selfie in a bare patch. My head swivelled in non-stop rotations. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

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When the sun began its dip behind the mountains and long shadows closed the buds, we trundled off for a coffee at the newly erected pop-up coffee shop on van Der Merwe’s farm, sprawled in the valley just below the foothills at the southern end.

Queues were long as we snaked our way to the counter; the delightful owner told us she’d realised there was a need. “On Sundays,” she said, wiping a lock of hair off her forehead, “when we’re sitting on the stoep gazing up at the valley, and a tourist stops to ask me for the use of my facilities, when you know, I would never do the same when I go to town. Then I grin and bear it and “knyp” (pinch) my bladder all the way back to the farm. That’s when I realised I could make money from this,” she said in her delightful South African brogue.

Good for her. Three ladies run the counter, and it seems they never stop as “tourists” buy jaffles, coffee and tea, chocolate cupcakes (my favourite), fudge and an array of other treats. Butch, who doesn’t do “shopping”, returned to the truck while I browsed for a souvenir. With a recommendation to head east along the road to Enjo Nature Farm, where we’re sure to find a campsite, we set off. I promise myself I’ll have another chocolate cupcake when we return.

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Enjo Nature Farm has a following and an unblemished reputation for the perfect getaway in nature. We secured the “emergency” campsite. Under a canopy of trees, we parked our Honey Badger. The light was still good enough to untie our bikes for a quick ride along the gravel road.

To stretch my aching limbs, I took a slow meander along the path to the centre of the labyrinth for quiet reflection. My heart was overflowing with appreciation for the beauty, serenity and pure awesomeness of our day in the countryside, without any setbacks!

The site has serviced cottages, three (I think) 4 campsites, an emergency campsite on the property, a small honesty shop at the main house, and free Wi-Fi. Although we didn’t find the ablutions a problem, having only one facility for all campers seems limited.

On one of my walks, I caught up with a little boy, sporting an oversized red T-shirt and a cloth sunhat, who was a font of information and didn’t stop chattering the whole time he showed me around. He said his favourite thing in the world was living on a farm. Farmer, I thought, would be his vocation. He soon agreed he could be “whatever” because he knew everything in the whole world, anyway. I agree wholeheartedly.

His youthful spirit of adventure was so refreshing and inspiring. He had la joie de vivre in bucketloads. I'd never burst his bubble, but I'd give him another 60 years...

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We agreed it would be wise to linger longer, but time wasn’t on our side. At Enjo Nature Farm, you can relax or be energetic. There are two dams and many walking and mountain-biking trails, or, like us, you can stick to the main dirt road. Farm animals roam freely, and pets are welcome too. Guests are required to recycle.

Although I didn’t have a chance to check out the cottages, I would say they’re well-appointed and ideal for a self-catering stay. By the looks of things, they’re also in high demand, so early reservations are essential.

We thoroughly enjoyed our short stopover and our early-morning bike ride, and I'd certainly like to return for a longer stay.

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Like any old horse, our trip was ending, and our nose turned after leaving Enjo.  A last-minute coffee at the Pop-up coffee shop did the trick.  The day warmed, and the daisies turned their faces toward the sun. We clambered back into the truck and headed off up the pass and over the Pakhuis Pass to Clanwilliam.

Whispers on the wind say enthusiasts have been promised an extended flowering season this year.  I urge you to visit Namaqualand.  You have many travel options. Day trips or a more extended stay are what you should decide on. There’s always space for a last-minute bed at the inn. See my blog http://maricha.co.za/blogs/post/spring-shenanigans-and-daisies-with-honeyed-hearts for tips and tricks.

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Did you know? Yellow represents happiness, optimism, inspiration and summer. Those who like yellow are attracted to what’s new and modern. Pale yellow can bring a sunny feel to a space without being overwhelming to the eye.

ENJO NATURE FARM:

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Flipping through my photographs and memories, I'm continually reminded that amidst our chaotic lives, fears, and insecurities, our natural world continues to do exactly what it's intended to do.  Where human intervention is limited, nature flourishes; where we scar the earth, nature will heal it.  I am in awe, inspired and afraid; none of us can be left unmoved or unhumbled by the sheer magnificence of nature.  On our trips, we always see "the small things" and concur that they will inherit the earth.  "We must tread softly on this earth." John Varty warns.