Phelwana

Ek en 'n vriend hier van Naboom wou eers die naweek Botswana, Makgadigadi toe, gegaan het. Die reën het egter ons planne gedwarsboom. Toe draai ons die fietse, twee KLR 650's,  se neuse Laeveld toe.
We planned to go to Botswana for the weekend. However, the rains came and we realized that a trip to Makgadigadi would be impossible. We turned the bikes, two KLR 650's, direction Lowveld.

Ons stop by Haenertsburg vir koffie en pannekoek. Dit sous behoorlik
We stopped at Haenertsburg in pouring rain for coffee and pancake.

Die grondpad tot by Phelwana het sommige plekke baie modder. So lyk ons na die modderpad.
The dirt track to Phelwana has some muddy and slippery stretches. Our jeans and shoes were mud-covered.

Skaars staan ons tente of die eerste diere, twee kameelperde, stap voor ons verby.
Soon after we pitched our tents the first animals, two giraffes, walked passed our tents.

Die kameelperde is net een van baie diersoorte wat ons die naweek te voet en van die fietse gesien het.
We saw so much during the weekend, on foot and while riding through the bush.

Sonja en Ronel, die twee vriendelike dames van Phelwana, het ek en Keat na ete met dié karretjie na ons kampeerplek geneem. Dit was te gevaarlik om snags te voet deur die bos die kilometer of wat soontoe te stap. Ons was skaars in ons slaapsakke toe die seekoeie naby ons gesnork het. Kort daarna die geroep van gevlekte hiënas. Vanoggend kwart voor vyf het die leeus naby Phelwana begin te brul. Wat 'n wonderlike nag met al die dieregeluide.
Sonja and Ronel, the two friendly ladies of Phelwana, took us back to our tents with this funny little buggy. It would have been too dangerous walking the kilometer or so back to the tents by night. We were in our sleeping bags only for a few minutes when the grazing hippos snorted close to our tents. Shortly thereafter we could hear spotted hyenas. Quarter to five this morning lions started roaring somewhere near Phelwana. What a privilege!

Sondag: Die reën is weg. Wonderlike sonskyn op die nat aarde. Ons groet Phelwana. Dit is "my" klein paradysie (www.phelwana.co.za). Keat se nuwe KLR staan hier voor, my swaargelaaide een staan agter.
Sunday: Gone is the rain. Golden sunshine on the wet earth. Phelwana is "my" own small paradise (www.phelwana.co.za) Keat's new KLR stands in front, my heavily laden KLR at the back.

By Gravelotte draai ons van die teerpad af om Leydsdorp met sy spook-in-die-kelder- te gaan besoek. Dié groot kremetart staan so 100m van die grondpad af.
At Gravelotte we left the tar road to visit Leydsdorp with the ghost-in-the-cellar. This big baobab stands 100m away from the dirt track.

Leydsdorp was 'n delwersdorp, gestig in 1891 en na W J Leyds, staatsekretaris van die Transvaal, vernoem. Elke delwersdorp moes sy drink- en kuierplek hê. Dis waar die Leydsdorp Hotel in die prentjie kom.
Leydsdorp, founded in 1891, was a diggers town after gold had been found in the area. It was named after W J Lead, state secretary of the Transvaal. In those days a digger needed a place to drink and eat and pick a fight. That is where the hotel enters the scene.

Hier is geëet.
The lounge.

Van agter die kroeg toonbank gaan die trap af onder na die kelder toe. In die ou dae is mense sommer binne 'n dag begrawe. Die hitte, jy verstaan. Maar soms het iemand ontydig doodgegaan. Ontydig soos vieruur die middag. Die grond was te klipperig, daarom het niemand daardie tyd van die dag begin om 'n graf te grawe nie. Die lyk is dan saam met die hotel se eet en drink onder in die kelder gestoor vir die nag. Dis waar die storie van die spoke nou inkom.
Behind the bar counter a staircase is leading down to the cellar. During those pioneer days the dead was normally buried within a day. The heat, you know. Sometimes someone died not according to the plan, like late afternoon. As the soil is really stony (still today) no one started digging a grave late afternoon. That had to wait until the next morning. The only cool place to store the body was then in the cellar of the hotel, with all the meat and beverages. Now enters the story of the ghost ...

Hierdie was die enigste oorskotte wat ons met ons besoek aan die kelder gekry het.
These were the only bodies we found with our visit to the cellar.

Skietlustiges het nie net in die delwerstyd die kroeg besoek nie. Die plafon is vol meer onlangse skietgate wat getuig van baie vogtige kuieraande in die Outback dorp.
Trigger happy cowboys not only visited the bar during those years. In the ceiling are many more recent bullet holes, proof of liquor filled evenings in this Outback town.

Glenn was een van die manne met 'n skietyster wat gerook het toe hy uit die kroeg gegooi is.
Glenn was one of those cowboys with a smoking gun when we was thrown from the bar.

Dit was 'n vlakvarkkop. Eers het hy in die bos geleef. Daarna het sy kop die muur versier. Toe het 'n klomp manne met wapens en vog in die bloed hom flenters geskiet. Dit was glo die eerste vark wat twee keer gesterf het om skietlustiges se lus te bevredig.
Once upon a time that had been the head of a warthog. First it lived happily in the bush. Later its head decorated the wall of the bar (big error). Then came the manne with the guns and blood in their alcohol streams and shot it again. Apparently it was the first warthog that died twice to satisfy the lust of some trigger happy modern time diggers.

Die einde van die rit vir die bus. Die modder het 1-0 gewen. Wat ons KLR'e betref, die modder het 0-2 verloor.
The end of the trip for the bus. The scrore 1-0 in favour of the mud. Regarding our KLR's, the mud lost 0-2.