Open Writing

The first indication of change was the flat-topped mountain. Copper-coloured buttresses glinting in the morning sun, it focused attention. This mountainous ridge marks the change between the coastal plain and the colder, wetter Bokkeveld plateau.

Millions of years of erosion created the dry sandy plains that lie between the workaday towns of Vredendal, Lutzville, and Vanrhynsdorp. The old-timers claim the name came from the sound of wagons grinding over the pebbles forming the area known as the “Knersvlakte”. They say this sounds like the grinding of teeth (“tandekners”) but the origin is lost, and nobody cares any more.

Now these dry plains form a dramatic introduction to the floral kingdom on the high plateau. The steep climb up the winding pass must have been a strenuous journey 100 years ago, and today when one reaches the tiny village of Nieuwoudtville, it is disappointing to find so few amenities.

Largely overlooked by the rush of progress, this is a place where time has stood still. The few buildings in the village comprise a small and very basic hotel, a butchery, an under-stocked shop, and a stone church with an imposing steeple. These, together with a few secluded houses, form the nucleus of a once prosperous farming community. The only signs of activity come from "Indigo", the large gabled Victorian house converted into a craft and coffee shop.

If one visits the village after good winter and spring rains, the floral beauty and abundance is breathtaking, and botanists and flower lovers are happy to make the long journey. But accommodation is scarce and must be booked months in advance. So, if the winter is dry and the flowers fail, it can be a disappointing and wasted journey.

This year had been exceptionally dry and the lands stood bare and empty. Expecting tractor-trailer rides through perfumed fields buzzing with bees, enjoying the delicate and varied blossoms, our anticipation turned to disappointment. We left the tarred road on the outskirts of the village, and the overflowing ditches and slippery mud told their tale. The heavy rain we had encountered coming up the pass had done its work, and though today we would not see any flowers, some weeks later the fields would be filled with colour.

Driving on we reached a low stone barn where we found Lana van Wyk, the farmer’s wife. Her sensible alternative was a hearty farm lunch, very welcome on a squally, windy day. Soon the savoury smells of good farm cooking, a glass or two of local wine, a warm fire and a comfortable chair put us at our ease.

"Come into the warm, make yourselves comfortable" our hostess said, welcoming us as we entered. The small sandstone barn, cosy in the inclement weather, soon filled with chatter and laughter.

Soft lantern light brought out the charm of the unpainted walls and simple furnishings. The reed ceilings, hand-hewn joists and beams testified to the use of local materials and labour. Dried flower heads filled the empty feed troughs, a worn leather satchel hung from a nail; an old school slate lay on the dresser.

On the pine shelves a chipped enamel coffee pot and a battered colander alternated with coloured bottles of preserved fruits. The converted barn carried an unmistakeable aura of former times. Still, the unpretentious rough and ready lifestyle had a certain charm, while the surroundings gave a faint idea of life over a hundred years ago.

Sensing my interest, Lana said "Many years ago the "knegte" (as she translated it, the 'slave' of the farmer) became overseer. He was given this place to live in. He lived here happily for a long time. Later the barn was used as the farm school. The overseer lived in two rooms, classes were held in the middle room, and the horses waited in back. My grandfather said when classes were over they used to race home bareback."

Resuming her chat after serving the steaming bowls of barley and vegetable soup, she said, "Rather than let this historic old building stand empty my husband and I decided to convert it. We sell farm produce and light meals. Day visitors enjoy a change, especially as there is only the coffee shop in the village. Campers come in for a chat and a drink when cold and rain make tent life miserable; you know how people like to take things easy on holiday" she laughs.

The Van Wyks have also provided modern self-catering accommodation. Across the field, shining in the sunlight after the rain are several white-washed Cape Dutch farm buildings. Insulated against heat and cold under their caps of thatch, these two and three bedroomed cottages provide a comfortable alternative to tents. Matjiesfontein provides an ideal stopover for birders, 4x4 drivers, mountain-bikers, and hikers.