A ROAD TRIP BACK IN TIME Cradock to Durban
The air is thinner at 2 590 metres, not quite elastic enough to contain sound so a shout escapes your lips rapidly, ricochets off the cliff then leaps and skips from rock to rock, down the long slope until it’s absorbed by the pastures far below.
Summiting Naudé’s Nek Pass in the Southern Drakensberg meant we had nowhere else to go but down, and descent meant sinking back into the real world, so we lingered.
Down there we were rats on the treadmill; up here we were Leo and Kate on the prow of the Titanic. I spread my arms wide but stopped short of shouting, ‘I’m king of the world!’ The scene didn’t lend itself to cliché.
My wife Sarah and I had left Cape Town a few days earlier, taking a
