Serenity in the Karoo

The R384 runs west from Britstown, straight as an arrow. On both sides of the road, the Bo-Karoo lies flat on its back. As far as the eye can see, it’s just drab brush, except for the odd image of a springbok quivering in the heat. It’s dry. The small patches of green that have sprung up after a brief burst of rain don’t make much of a difference. The fattest sheep you’ll see around here is that symbol of the animal on a triangular warning sign.

This stretch of land is for Karoo connoisseurs only. The die-hard fans. A stand of green pine trees and the white church steeple draw the eye from afar. As you get closer, a green sign welcomes you to Vosburg and its shady trees.

In the shade you drive past an old hotel, a coffee shop called Die Ketel, an impressive NG church building, the shop Ricks Karoo Winkel, a farmers’ co-op, houses with corrugated roofs and stoeps, and windmills alongside prickly pear cactuses and pomegranate trees. There’s one tarred street and a dozen or so gravel. And no litter. And almost no cars or people. It’s the last Friday in May, end of the month, but in Vosburg it looks like the end of the world has come and gone.

In front of Ricks there’s a slight commotion. A bakkie parks outside and the man behind the wheel