Taste of the Wilderness
The Ivory Route extends some 2000 kilometres through the Limpopo Province in a great arc. Fixon Hlungwane, the province’s director of eco-tourism development, first had the idea of creating a wilderness and cultural route after reading T.V. Bulpin’s book, The Ivory Trail.
It tells the story of legendary hunter Cecil Barnard, or Bvekenya (the man who staggers), as the Shangaans called him, who made the Limpopo Valley his home at the beginning of the last century.
The Limpopo River was a natural migration route for elephants, and later a trade route. Long before settlers arrived on the scene ivory, slaves, gold and other goods were borne up and down this artery, connecting the interior with a vast Indian Ocean trading system. The stone citadels of Mapungubwe and Thulamela were nodes on this ancient ‘highway’ and form part of the trail.
The Ivory Route aims to give visitors a taste of the wilderness as well as the area’s rich cultural heritage, such as San rock art, archaeological sights and Venda crafts. It’s all about back routes and remoteness, and you can get horribly lost. So it’s best to have a registered guide with you. We had Klaas.
Thrilling 4x4ing
Our short-wheel-base Pajero had left Nylstroom and the greytop N1 far behind. We were paused in the sparse shade of a thorn tree in one-horse Vaalwater waiting for Klaas. I had my 17-year-old niece, Sannie, with me for the first time alone on a long trip together. I figured the Ivory Route and Limpopo’s wilds would be critically tested against the lures of MTV, the mall and nightclubs.
Klaas Boonzaaier drew up in his Ford double cab, stepped out and introduced himself. Bush hat, khakis, rugged face - a man of the north. “Let’s stock up on some provisions here and then head into the Waterberg,” he said.
In coming days we’d find Klaas to be invaluable. Apart from being instrumental in setting up and running the Ivory Route, he was forever stopping to chat to locals, giving lifts, discovering what was new in the area. He also had an uncanny knack of finding hidden roads, long-forgotten tracks and overgrown paths through the bush, making for some thrilling 4x4ing.
Our Pajero was hungry for dirt and Klaas soon obliged. We followed his vehicle through Kwalata, Lapalala and Touchstone – all game-rich private reserves within the Waterberg Biosphere.
We reached Masebe Game Reserve in the late afternoon, the koppies basted in golden light. A winding track found us at Ntubu, a tented camp set in thick bush. As darkness fell, so the cold seemed to leak from the ground. Sannie found the “bucket-shower contraption” in her tent curious but “pretty cool” once she’d figured out how to use it.
We sat beneath a weeping boer-bean (Schotia brachypetala) and, as the temperature plummeted, pulled our camp chairs closer to the fire. That night we’d sleep fully clothed . . . each in two down sleeping bags. “Ja, he was a legend in the bush,” said Klaas, placing the pot on the coals for after-supper coffee. “Bvekenya came from the south, from Knysna. He grew up with tales of forest elephants and the wild adventures of hunters. When his father’s farm went bust after the Boer War, he decided to try his hand at ivory.”
By Justin Fox