Still Wandering - Gatsrivier Guest Farm

With dust billowing in our wake, we made our way from the Tankwa farm stall back onto the main road (a 70 km detour, I was told) to continue our meanderings in search of peace. The road north grew quieter, and farmsteads grew fewer. In the Karoo, sustainable farming can only be practised on vast tracts of land. Fences ran for many kilometres before there was a turn as we climbed ever upwards onto the escarpment.

Butch drives the Honey Badger, which makes me the navigator, gate opener, and clerk of works. There are many gates to open. At first, my cold, stiff joints rebelled at the stretch as I slid down painfully from my seat, and again when I stretched up to pull myself back into the truck. By gate eight, my muscles had warmed enough to ease the descent when I had to alight from my carriage. Most barriers I encountered used different opening and closing mechanisms. Some slipped open quickly; others had to be manoeuvred and coaxed to release the “blou draad”. Every gate protested and screeched as I pulled and pushed, dragging them open. 

We reached our destination at the Gatsrivier Guest Farm by midafternoon, just in time for coffee. Pieter and Marlize, the friendly managers, welcomed us warmly and showed us around the charming farmstead, setting the tone for a memorable stay. There are twenty well-spaced campsites, each offering privacy, and, because of COVID-19, guests are kept at a safe distance. Our private ablutions were a surprising luxury, making our stay even more comfortable.

After showing us around, we were left to our own devices. Within two ticks, we had our chairs out, tables set up, and lockers open. The kettle was whistling before we knew it. With a cup of hot coffee, we sat down and surveyed our surroundings — we couldn’t be more pleased.

While Butch set up, I slipped off to suss out our immediate surroundings. From a distance, I could hear the Gats River flowing, and I followed it until I came upon a series of gentle waterfalls. Rivers in the Karoo are seasonal and often flow only during flash floods, rushing down at an alarming rate before subsiding and dwindling. This river was unusual, especially since it had flowed for more than a week previously. It’s a reminder of the Karoo's surprising beauty, inspiring awe and curiosity about this unique landscape.

Nightfall slipped in gently, with no significant drop in temperature, so we sat out, legs outstretched, soaking up the warmth from the fire pit long after a spectacular orange sunset. We dined on a simple Mushroom Stroganoff, followed by flambéed bananas for dessert. Afterwards, we played a couple of hands of Rummikub, then retired to our books and a film. My hot water bottle warmed the cold sheets, and our little heater did a marvellous job cutting through the chill.

Lately, it’s been unusual for us to lie in late. The Karoo air was working its magic, and we only stirred at 9h00. After morning coffee and rusks, we set off to explore the farm roads on our bicycles. We hadn’t saddled up since March, and much to my horror, I was as nervous as hell. My leg had only just recovered from my January tumble. I was not going to have a repeat performance on a rocky road in the Karoo. Butch made a flask of coffee, which we enjoyed sitting on a log on the riverbank after a 90-minute ride. 

Karoo birds, unaccustomed to humans, went about their business, unperturbed by us, pecking at seeds and grubs, their calls baffling us. We did manage to identify a few: Bokmakierie, Cape Bunting, Cape Crow, Common Fiscal, Red-faced Mousebird, Pale Chanting Goshawk. Not bad. We heard the Sunbirds' calls and the distinctive wing-flapping of Karoo chats, but again couldn't identify them. We wished we had Rachie there, who only needs a few notes to recognise them.

Once a thriving sheep farm, this place must have had numerous outbuildings, homesteads, and kraals. Today, only the bare bones - bricks and stones - remain, creating an intriguing landscape to explore and ponder. My curiosity was piqued as I ran my hands over the weathered stone and decaying wood, imagining the lives of the former inhabitants. I often wonder what stories these ruins could tell if they could speak, revealing the secrets of a bygone era.

While Butch enjoyed an afternoon nap, I explored the veld, clambering over rocks and rock-climbing the embankments and koppies—an expedition to observe how the plants have recovered after the good rains. Karoo flora comprises many species of aloe and succulents. New growth is sprouting on almost every bush. Interestingly, I found a few plants showing triumphant regrowth in full colour. Some early bloomers are already flowering, especially bulbous plants. Ferns and mosses, nestled and protected by lichen-covered rocks, were beginning to show themselves too. Brightly painted faces of Bokbaai Fygies will carpet the slopes and gullies in a fortnight, I’m sure.

We made an early start on supper: a Middle Eastern lamb shank tagine-style potjie (recipe to follow) and my favourite Sago Pudding with caramelised citrus segments and vanilla ice cream. Two hands of Honeymoon Bridge rounded off the festivities.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t stay any longer; I would’ve stayed in a heartbeat, but my car had an appointment with the panel beaters. Don’t ask; you’d be surprised. After a leisurely breakfast, we packed up and slowly made our way back to Worcester.

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A few times over the weekend, we met and chatted with the farm owners, Anet and Hennie. A delightful, well-travelled couple who understand exactly what our travel dreams and bucket-list ideas are. They captivated us with riveting stories from their recent trip to Uganda and Ethiopia. What an adventure they had! Hennie tried his best to dissuade us, but alas, he couldn’t. We’re going as soon as we can.

It would be amiss of me not to compliment them on their efforts to provide guests with excellent accommodation.  Our campsite was spotless and well-appointed, with braai equipment, a bundle of wood, and ground cover ready for our dining table—plus high-pressure running water on-site and in the bathroom.  

Bathrooms are a dead giveaway in my book. An unsatisfactory shower experience immediately sends my star-o-meter crashing. Be prepared to be wowed by the luxury bathrooms at Gatsrivier. The hot shower spray, like needles, warmed and massaged my back. Not even the walk, with all my paraphernalia in tow, put me off. I eagerly trotted off to our private bathroom every day for the hot solar shower. 10/10 on TripAdvisor, it will be! 

There are no scullery facilities, so do take your basin and kettle to boil water, or a bucket to fetch hot water for crockery and cutlery.

Congratulations, Gatsrivier Guest Farm; you have created an oasis in an extraordinary location, with outstanding facilities and a marvellous management team. Thank you for your hospitality. We certainly hope to return one day. For non-campers, there are cottages too. Play parks for the kids have been built, and they’d love them. I can see them on the jungle gym and cycling along the tracks. If there’s water in the river, there should be swimming holes too; the sheer, polished rocks are perfect for sunbathing. Like lizards, one could bask in the sun.

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Karma has a way of always bringing one back down to earth after a high, doesn't she? On Monday evening, my Dad phoned to tell us that my brother, a high-risk healthcare worker, had been diagnosed with COVID-19. We are devastated. Please wear your mask out of respect for others. It's the right thing to do.

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We found Gatsrivier Guest Farm on the iOverlander app and enquired via WhatsApp.