Hidden Karoo by Patricia Kramer and Alain Proust

I make no secret of the fact that South Africa's arid interior is my 'heartland'. My father was born in the Groot Karoo, and at times lived in little dorpies like Aberdeen, Hanover, and De Aar. During the holidays, when most sensible folks head to the beach, we head to the hinterlands, and the Klein Karoo, especially the area near Ladismith and Oudtshoorn, is high up on my list of favourite destinations. When Hidden Karoo by Patricia Kramer and Alain Proust landed on my review pile, I was immediately all grabby-fingered over the book. 

And for very good reason. On a long road trip through the interior, it is so easy to dismiss the landsdape when all one sees passing by in a blur of windpumps, scatterings of sun-bleached sheep, flat-topped koppies, and long stretches of what at a glance appears to be a Martian wasteland. Yet if you harbour a love the history of South Africa's dry hinterlands, or are idly curious and wish to know more, then this book will be for you. Those in the know understand that if you take the time to step off that highway, and spend a little time off the beaten track, you'll fall irrevocably in love with the land, its people, its nature, and its history. 

Hidden Karoo is not only informative, but it really *is* a beautiful book, filled with stunning photographs, bits of history and architectural detail, and plenty of information to get you planning your next road trip. The authors have divided the Karoo into a variety of regions, each of which is treated in a chapter, from the Tankwa in the west, the dry interior, and all the way east to the Camdeboo. 

South Africa's history is incredibly complex, the stories often painful when one examines the role colonisation and war played in shaping our nation. And by the same measure, we are left with a rich melange melding indigenous and European, in a way that is wholly unique and captures the imagination. Hidden Karoo takes you on a journey through time, to Loeriesfontein's collection of windpumps; ancient petroglyphs near Vosburg; British blockhouses of the South African War; outsider artist Helen Martins's Owl House in Nieu Bethesda... I can go on.

This book is a must-have for anyone who loves travel, loves South Africa, and wishes to dig a little deeper into some of the cultural and natural history of a region redolent with contrasts and ancient magic, and I cannot recommend it enough. 

Wild Karoo by Mitch Reardon

My friends know I'm one of those peculiar individuals who seeks solitude in South Africa's Karoo regions, so when the opportunity presented itself to review Mitch Reardon's Wild Karoo, I put up my hand immediately for a copy. This book is every serious lover of the Karoo's wildest dream come true, in which Reardon takes readers on an adventure that starts at the Bontebok National Park just outside of Swellendam in the Western Cape, and travels through the many (and varied) Karoo regions, including the magical Little, Great, Tankwa, Hantam, Namaqualand, Cederberg, Camdeboo and more.

My only complaint is that the book itself could have been elevated to the rarified status of coffee table book, because the current size simply doesn't do Reardon's stunning photography justice. Not only is the photography wonderful, but so is Reardon's writing, as he exquisitely and effortlessly evokes the landscape and its wildlife, as well as the people who live in these regions – farmers, game rangers, researchers. So while the immediacy of some of the interviews may lead to the content of the book dating somewhat over the years, I do believe that it exists as an important snapshot for the status of the Karoo regions at the time of publishing while also highlighting the delicate balance of the assorted regions.

Reardon weaves in snippets of history, from our past explorers and indigenous people in a way that is sensitive but also aware of the great impact that our species has had on the land. And believe me, there are some stories here that will make any ardent nature-lover weep and gnash their teeth – for instance the extinction of species such as the quagga and the blue antelope, as well as the great injustice suffered by the San. While there is currently much doom and gloom in terms of the environment worldwide, Reardon also paints a picture of hope – that here in South Africa we have people who are working hard to find solutions that will preserve our wild places for future generations. He argues most eloquently for the importance that these last refuges for wilderness hold for us, and that a dynamic way forward by building sustainable communities and use around the land is what we need. The truth is that our species has thrown nature's delicate balance out of kilter, and it is up to us to take up the challenge of stewardship.

Wild Karoo finds a permanent spot in my collection, not only as a source book for research, but also thanks to its inspirational nature. And now I'm already planning where my next Karoo adventure will take place. If you love South Africa's wild places and want to be inspired with a story that gives you hope that not all is lost, then this is it.

Goths on Safari: Day two

Received our wake-up call at 6.30pm this morning but the husband was suffering from the start of one of his infamous migraines again, so I abandoned him, had breakfast and joined the early morning game drive and an exciting but fruitless hunt for the lions, who'd decided to go to ground in a river bed.

And wow, what a morning, a rare spittling of rain pin-pricking my face as it can only in the Karoo, the mist shrouding the koppies and making everything mysterious. A good catch was the pale chanting goshawk, a raptor that appears to be very much in evidence here.

All I saw of Harry the hippo was a bit of his snoot and twitchy ears as he regarded us from his pond. No showing off for the vehicle today. But we did see elephant, a whole herd of them, which was a good sighting as they demolished the acacia thickets. As well as the three-month old baby ellie who gambolled a bit.

Enjoyed views across the valley with hot chocolate and very nommy home-baked biscuits before we made serious inroads hunting the lion. You'd think finding white lions is a fairly easy business since they're white. Well, more off-white, really. They're just tawny sans the pigment in the fur and they do a bloody good job blending in with the vegetation.

Back at the lodge to collect Thomas, we were then whisked off by Trevor to view the other accommodation offerings, which includes Gondwana, which is the more relaxed family lodge and Tilney, which has a more colonial air to it. Very pretty overlooking the Warmwaterberg but I must admit, I'm totally sold on Dwyka's tents.

Sighting of this drive: African wild cat at Tilney. I've never seen one in the wild so this was a first for me.

On the way back along the dry river bed, Trevor stopped so that Thomas and I could see one of the rock art sites. This area is not as rich in paintings as the Cederberg but a casual search on the ground provided me with numerous artifacts (which I left behind like a good little archaeologically conscious individual). I was particularly blown away by the profusion of Aloe mitriformis and Thomas made a good spotting of a type of Haworthia clump in a crevasse.

Next sighting: A herd of ten kudu right by the side of the road. Magnificent!

No sooner had we eaten a divine lunch (springbok carpaccio; potato with blue cheese dressing and skinny fries) washed down once again with La Motte Sauvignon Blanc, we were off again, this time on Trevor's next trip out to hunt lions.

Yes, we saw the white rhinos are called here but we drove right into a journey of about 13 giraffe, who regarded us with great interest while we watched them browse.

Then, off hunting lion and, this time we got to see the male white lion's rump as he lounged under a bush. He lay there and lay there doing absolutely nothing with Trevor assuring us the others weren't far away. Of course, when lions don't want to be found, there's not much you can do about it and you're certainly not going to climb out of the Landy to go look for them.

Enter Mr Jackal, who'd figured out the lions were lounging about due to having made a kill earlier during the day. Mr Jackal has never been one to work too hard for food when freebies are on offer, so he ghosted about Mr White Lion's spot until the big cat decided he'd had enough of this nonsense and bestirred himself to chase the canid... for a short while.

Then he got bored and lay down again.

Eventually we figured out nothing else very exciting would happen so it was off to the lookout point where I enjoyed an Allesverloren (all is lost) port while schnacking on almonds and cashews, taking in the big dry river bed and hills. We watched a large flock of springbok graze against the wind and generally just appreciated the space.

The Karoo is not the bushveld. You're not going to find the ginormous teeming herds you'll encounter farther north in Kruger, but it has a beauty all of its own. I am a Karoo baby. Half my family originates from this area, so I guess the land is in my blood and bones, and I'm at home here.

As far as lodges go, Dwyka is one I WILL return to. It has that rare blend of five-star luxury but chilled-out hominess that doesn't leave me on edge. Some establishments you enter and immediately worry about smudging the furniture. Not so here, and the staff are friendly but not invisible. They're people who fast become friends within the 48 hours of a visit.

So, my verdict: if you can spend time at Sanbona and want to really feel like you've escaped the city and all the madness, the Dwyka Tented Lodge hits the mark. My only regret: that I didn't sit still long enough to really steep in the Karoo stillness, but I'm walking away with a genuine Karoo wilderness experience garnished with the kind of hospitality this area is legendary for.

Five out of five, guys! **wink**