Val stands tall

Few things are as spectacular to behold as a Highveld thunderstorm. It begins as a restlessness on the horizon. The brooding starts in the early afternoon with a wind that chases the clouds – high, high, into the pale blue sky, like a litter of Maltese poodle puppies, eyes closed, tumbling over each other to reach the last free teat. There’s an iciness to the stirring, and then, when the first deep rumble erupts, a dark greyness starts to enfold the white cotton wool and, before long, serious drama ensues: Lightning flashes. Seconds later, thunderclaps. Wind. And rain. Cats and dogs.

A scene exactly like this played out this afternoon in Val, the smallest hamlet in South Africa to have a postal code (2425). It’s not the first rain of the season–it’s already green in this part of the world – but it’s the first big rain, the type of storm that makes every farmer beam from ear to ear.

On the stoep of the Val Hotel, a few young chaps wearing shorts