The road

The time: late mid-August

The Place: South Africa

We had driven for hours, leaving the fresh greenery of the winter rainfall coastal regions and its rising spring behind us. We were headed not up the West Coast, famous for its spring flowers, but into the heartland, to the Karoo, and new vistas of dry mountains. It was a gamble, and I worried about the choice - we had so little time away, and for the Frenchman this was his very, very brief holiday in an intensely-pressured and taxing work year. It had to count. 

At last we turned off from the N1, and took Prince Albert Road (above) east towards the small town of Prince Albert, at the foot of the Swartberg. I was driving, and I was tired, but too stubborn proud to relinquish the wheel. As much as I enjoy driving on the open road it can be stressful when there are dozens of huge trucks* to pass at breakneck speed, especially in the beloved Landcruiser, a Turbo V8 who needs ample runway to come up to the requisite speed. Point her up a vertical rock track and she can climb it, she's as strong as anything, but if you sit on a truck's tail and then floor her nothing will happen. She'll ignore you unless she sees a hundred yards or more of  free roadway for her to build up her considerable speed. And this pisses off the cars behind you, hungry to scream north to Gauteng and its smokestack skies. So. Stressful. 

* truck in South Africa = tractor-trailer in the US

I'm digressing. 

So I was tired, and tired of being super-focused. And our destination, the Weltevrede Fig Farm beyond town, was still at least an hour away. Plus there were supplies to buy, first. 

Then the flowers appeared at the side of the road. It's a very good sign when I brake for flowers. It makes Vince smile. Instant tonic, right into the vein. There had been some rain, and an extra allowance, runoff from the tar,  had come to this dry soil. Flowers had germinated fast, as they must in this climate. We stopped, and pulled over, and walked on the side of the road in the clean air.

These are Arctotis leiocarpa, gousblom in Afrikaans. If cows eat them the milk turns bitter. 

Felicia namaquana (I think) on the left. Blou blommetjie - 'blue flower,' in Afrikaans.

Gazanias.

I felt better. Flowers were a big bonus. We had come for mountains. 

Soon, we would find them.

[An aside: these were shot on my phone, the Samsung Galaxy S7. I'm in love with its camera.]

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