Lesotho

Tuesday 19th January 2016 – We awoke with no idea about how to get to Lesotho. With the car due back at 10am we squeezed in a quick visit to the tourist information office who informed us we could get a minibus from the main bus station to the border of Lesotho. We returned the car which had somehow made it through 14 days unscathed and took a minibus to the main bus station in the knowledge that the area can be a bit dodgy. Luckily we were sharing the back of the minibus with a couple of soldiers and on enquiring where the minibus to Lesotho leaves from the superior directed his subordinate to chaperone us. Thus we weave through the streets for the next ten minutes, passing an astonishing number of minibuses until finally we arrived at a ticket office where we purchased two tickets to Lesotho. How we would have found it on our own I have no idea. Once on the minibus we felt safe and enjoyed the hour and a half drive to the border. Crossing the border was a relaxed affair and before long we were in Lesotho, the self proclaimed Kingdom in the Sky. Accommodation in Maseru was expensive and as it was still only early afternoon we resolved to try to reach Roma, 40 kms away which turned out to be easier than expected when a local taxi driver offered to take us for 200 rand. Soon we were speeding through the countryside, our chauffeur chatting animatedly on his phone whilst negotiating sharp bends at speed. Arriving somewhat relieved we thanked our infectiously cheerful driver and checked into the Trading Post Guesthouse. Requesting a backpacker room, we were shown to a small, round hut whose tardis-like interior contained two beds, a wardrobe and a dresser. That evening we walked into town and enjoyed barbecued chicken while watching Chelsea vs Everton.

Wednesday 20th January 2016 – We wake expecting to go hiking in the hills with a guide but somehow he ends up escorting us and 2 Dutch couples to see some dinosaur footprints in the hills above Roma. Some cute kids, none older than six tag along with us. As we are about to descend again an old woman comes puffing up the hill carrying a large bundle of sticks. I offer to carry the sticks and she gratefully accepts, furnishing me with a cloth headband to rest the sticks on and we walk back to her hut in the village. On the way back Sidi, our guide explains the meaning of the coloured plastic flags flying outside of some of the buildings in the village. A yellow flag means local home brew from hops for sale, a white flag means home brew from sohgrum is available, a green flag is for vegetables and a red flag for meat. We sample some home brew hops, a murky grey liquid which doesn’t taste quite as bad as it looks. After a cup of tea with the amiable Dutch couples we hop into their car with Sidi and drive to visit the Kome cave houses, basically some 200 year old mud houses incorporated into a cave overhang. Sidi tells us about the cannibals that used to live on the next hill over and how they set up a sort of tripwire system to alert them when potential victims were passing by. A Basuto man with a homemade violin is playing music on the outskirts of a village we pass and we stop to have a bit of a dance. In the evening I buy some more of the local hooch and we enjoy a delicious evening meal at the hostel chatting to a lovely Norwegian couple.

Thursday 21st January 2016 – After an early rise and a remarkably straightforward minibus journey we arrived mid morning in Ramabanta. As we drove it was easy to see this truly is a land of shepherds and mud huts. In Ramabanta we had hoped to go fly fishing for trout but unfortunately the river conditions weren’t conducive. Instead we opted to go horse riding. Visions of galloping carefree across the Lesothan hills were quickly dashed. Nevertheless, bringing to bear our combined equestrian experience of about 4 hours we eventually induced our mounts into a grudging walk. Following our guide we rode out of the village and into the scenic hills. During a short rest part way along the trail Alysa fed her horse an apple and suddenly they were the best of friends, her horse leading the way while I trailed along behind. That evening we cooked spaghetti with onions and tomatoes and tired out from the day fell asleep.