Sounds of silence in Karoo scare away city-dwellers

IAM SPENDING a few days in the Karoo and enjoying the crisp dry autumn air. It has rained here on the farm, the dams are full and the grass is knee-high. There was an amazing variety of wild life on the side of the road as I travelled through the Karoo – springbok, steenboks, monkeys, baboons and hares everywhere.

Generations of careful veld management have changed the nature of the Karoo vegetation and there are all kinds of animals and birds we never saw here when I was a youngster – kudus, hadedas and wild pigs, for example.

The rain had washed away some of the road surface, exposing some rather nasty sharp rocks that required some nifty steering, but the brave little bakkie handled it all well and arrived intact.

One of the things that always takes a while to get used to is the night-time silence of the Karoo. That and the darkness.

City dwellers never actually experience silence or darkness. The nights are punctuated by city sounds – the rumble of a suburban train, the siren of an ambulance or police vehicle, the barking of a neighbour’s dog or the roar of a late-night motorbike.

There’s always the glow of a street light or the headlights of a passing car to break the darkness.

Karoo nights are so silent you can hear your heart beat and when there’s no moon the darkness is complete. At first it’s a little unnerving but by the second night I enjoy the deepest, most uninterrupted sleep in the world.

Maybe this is why I return to the Cape completely refreshed and ready to do battle with the slings and arrows of outrageous city life. The Karoo is not for everyone, though. Some neighbours converted one of their farm buildings into a cosy cottage and advertised it as a holiday rental.

The first family to book the cottage stayed only half a night and vanished, leaving a note to say they couldn’t stand the silence and had decided to return to the city.

I often wonder, when I hear my friends saying they long for the peace and serenity of country life, whether they’d actually enjoy it for long.

I think you have to grow up in the Karoo to appreciate it to the full.

I suppose that applies to almost anywhere. I know most Cape Town folk hate being in Joburg.

They find it brash and hurried and noisy and dangerous and they live behind high walls and electric fences.

My Joburg friends, on the other hand, find Cape Town too slow and sleepy for their liking.

There’s no sense of urgency in the Cape, they say. It drives you mad. This is all good news. If everybody liked the same place we’d be piled up three deep.

Last Laugh

The teacher was trying to explain farming to a group of Grade 2 pupils. “What do we get from cows?” she asked. “Milk,” said Mary. “Beef,” said Billy. “Cowhide,” said Johnny. “And what is cowhide used for?” A long pause, then Johnny’s hand went up. “Holding cows together?”