The Golden Gate

The Golden gate.

For all its wild appearance, & in your face nature, there’s actually nothing natural about Sterkfontein dam. It’s a beautiful, gigantic man-made bathtub. A massive reservoir of water, pumped in & out as required to produce hydro-electric power… Eish, bloody clever, these umlungus. However, the pass up & into the heart of the Free State beckoned… The Golden gate… Nothing man-made here, except for the ribbon of tar dissappearing into towering sandstone heights. Driving through the mountains is a very humbling experience. The well maintained road twists & turns through hundreds of millions of years of history. At times like this I envy the geologists, & wish I could read the ancient stories told in the huge, multi-coloured striations standing out like mountainous billboards. There’s a rest camp towards the Clarens end of the reserve, its nestled in the bottom of a canyon, all shiny & squeaky clean… Paved roads, perfectly symmetrical camping sites with trimmed edges… Mmmmm, nothing wild here. Not so lekker for Nyati, but, for tonight, it’s home. The receptionist asked what my residential address was, I told her, “NU 11399”. Hee hee, I love it.


2 thoughts on “The Golden gate.”

    1. Ha ha… No, she didn't, but I thought I was SO clever.
      Actually, NOW, I use it as a matter of course & it doesn't raise an eyebrow.
      As long as the box's ticked.

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