Driving 'The Beast' through Africa
Spring in South Africa
by Isabelle Demaeght, October 4th, 2025
After crossing the border, we settle down in a sparsely populated village called Kameel, dominated by enormous grain and corn silos. We can camp at “Kameel Rust & Vrede.” There we meet Jan and Jacky, seasoned campers who have lost their hearts to hard-to-reach places. They live for that rare, tangible silence that hangs in the air and give us some tips for future isolated routes and destinations.
In Botswana, in addition to washboard ( corrugated gravel roads), we also found sandy roads with slow bumps. The Beast had trouble with them – Adriaan suspects that the front shock absorbers have (also) failed. In Upington, Adriaan finds a 4x4 specialist. The drive from Kameel to Upington is long, so we look for a place to spend the night along the way. We never camp wild on private property, but all the land here is neatly divided into farms, which have miles of fencing.
We stop at the “Rooikar Padstal” (a typical South African roadside stall) where you can get both delicacies and (tile) wisdom. It's not actually a campsite, but we decide to ask anyway. The owner (Elna) allows us to stay on their own campsite: three kilometers from the main road. It is their private sleeping place during hunting season (on the grounds of the enormous farm). We meet her son Norman, a cheerful farmer with 500 cows and 2,500 sheep. Part of the flock has already been herded into a pen, waiting for a day full of farming rituals: branding, vaccinating, deworming, sometimes castrating.
When Norman sees our license plate, he grins: “I'll never travel. Why should I? I'm already in heaven here. All the nature, given by God.” Even the scorching heat in summer, with temperatures climbing above forty degrees, doesn't bother him.
We sleep among the suspicious cows. Adriaan tries to make contact, but the animals stubbornly keep their distance. In the morning, we feast on the delicacies in the padstal: I have a boerenwors, Adriaan a sweet South African koeksister. Of course, we also take a pack of boerenwors with us. Vegetarian? That seems like a strange word here – producing meat, slaughtering, marinating, grilling, drying, grinding into sausage, and eating meat are all familiar concepts.
In Upington, the Beast gets its new shock absorbers in a 4x4 shop filled to the brim. Among the shiny 4WD accessories, comfortable folding chairs beckon, and we decide to take one with us. After all, our old seats were left behind in Belgium because they were underused on the American continent. With a newly purchased book on South African flora and fauna and a pound of biltong (marinated, then dried beef), the seat is inaugurated that same evening at a wine estate on the banks of the Orange River. We venture into a wine tasting. We never imagined that there were so many vineyards in northern South Africa. Still, we don't buy anything: the red wine is too tannic, the white a bit flat—only the sweet muscat dessert wine appealed to us, but we never drink that on the road.
Next up is our first nature park: Augrabies Falls. A waterfall in the same Orange River, with an 18-kilometer-long gorge behind it. The sand flies are more numerous than visitors, so we buy mosquito nets to cover our heads. Ridiculous to look at, but incredibly effective.
The countries of southern Africa charge three different rates for access to their parks: one for residents of the country, one for neighboring countries, and the “normal” rate, which is double, for... us. We decide to buy a ‘Wild Card’ – one (hefty) bill, but now all national parks (and participating reserves) in South Africa are ‘free’ for us for one year.
We spend the night at Klein Pella, a 3,000-hectare farm. Adriaan is very lucky: (very cheap) dates in abundance. The farm is part of the Karsten group, founded by Piet Karsten. We drive around a bit: we see scattered date and grape plantations, a hybrid solar energy/generator power plant, grouped houses, refrigerated warehouses, and many water pumping stations (the water from the Orange River makes all this possible). Unlike many other places, we see that the employees (of color) are well taken care of here.
From Klein Pella, we end up on a 4x4 trail and find a unique camping spot in the bed of the Orange River (still). With a golden sunset at our feet, it feels like we are alone in the world. In the morning, a group of baboons ventures almost to our car. Because our bread and diesel are almost gone, we report to the inhabited world (called Steinkopf). The parking lot of the local supermarket is populated by beggars and shadowy figures who do not resemble the people who have lived here for thousands of years. We suspect Arabic, Southern European, and North African influences.
This brings us to the west coast of South Africa. This coast is rugged and little traveled, despite the panoramic views. During the last hour of driving, the temperature drops from 30°C to 15 degrees with sea fog. The ocean is not visible, and the “cold” drives us back inland. We spend the night by the roadside, unaware that we are actually sleeping on prohibited territory: this part of the north coast belongs to a diamond mine, accessible only with a permit.
In the past, these diamonds were mainly mined by De Beers, but now they are slowly selling off their land. The local population, who used to work for De Beers, are trying to get a piece of the action. Suddenly, my unease from yesterday falls into place. These people (or their parents) came to these diamonds a long time ago. When they find a stone, it usually disappears just as quickly. Addictions take its place. And then homelessness and so on.
Meanwhile, spring has arrived: a little rain has fallen on the desert in Namaqua Park. This is the signal for the plants that winter is over and they start to bloom. Never before have we seen such an exuberant variety of different flowers in a single day. Because the fresh south wind feels cold, we set up our under-tent – my favorite, because it feels more like our own nest and is warmer because we can cook and eat out of the wind. There, between a sea of flowers and the surf, we enjoy the silence and our spot.
We have to make choices along the way. It's impossible to see everything: we can't enjoy the sea and the mountains at the same time. That's why we drive back inland, through the Cederberg Wilderness, roughly in the direction of Cape Town. As the name suggests, there are rugged mountain ranges, jagged sandstone formations, and fields full of rooibos. The landscape is dramatically beautiful, almost overwhelming.
Adriaan chooses a farm with more than a hundred camping spots—something I would normally shy away from. We find a quiet corner, as it is still low season. We meet Eric, a Flemish man who has been living in South Africa for 27 years and is currently overseeing the asparagus harvest on this farm. He provides us with a bunch of fresh asparagus, a peeler, and real butter (we have our own eggs). And thus, that evening, we sit in our spot by a small river, under eucalyptus trees, enjoying an unexpected spring meal.
When we said goodbye to Belgium, Andries and Maitè gave us a voucher for a charming little train in Franschhoek that runs past various vineyards, where you can get off for a tasting or lunch. At eleven o'clock in the morning, the first glasses of wine are already waiting for us at the Rickety Bridge Wine Estate. Later that day, we visit Klein Goederust, a welcoming farm founded by Nomaroma Siguaqa, the first woman of color to start a vineyard in this region.
Meanwhile, Adriaan is concerned about the increasingly loud squeaking suspension of the Beast. He also thinks that the wheel bearing, whose play was eliminated in Angola, is now giving up. On Wednesday (September 24), we start on his Cape Town workshop shortlist. But it is Heritage Day, a national holiday. No one is working, and many have turned it into a long weekend. We find a parking space (parking a 2.5-meter tall car in a city is a challenge) and enjoy a generous portion of oysters at The Waterfront. We can't find a hotel with a high garage, but we do find a cozy guesthouse on the outskirts of Cape Town. We can't get to the chosen workshop until Monday, so we also start a long weekend.
I feel ‘young’ and fit enough to climb the Table Mountain. It's not on my bucket list, but it has been on my Africa wish list for a long time. Because it is one of the seven natural wonders? Or because it towers so impressively above Cape Town? My Adriaan is not keen, so I go alone (even though it is generally not recommended). The path is steeper and harder than expected, but step by step I get closer to the top.
Adriaan was going to take the cable car, but decides against it when he sees the three-hour wait and decides to have The Beast cleaned near the cable car station. I feel proud and emotional when I reach the top alone. I enjoy the view while I rest. Just as I am about to head back down, I discover that my wallet is still at the guesthouse. Checking my backpack three times does not help. Fortunately, Adriaan can buy a cable car ticket downstairs, take a photo of it, and send it to me. What a relief!
Because we have to wait until Monday for the garage visit, we drive the picturesque route to the Cape of Good Hope on Friday. A beautiful trip, including Boulder, one of the few penguin colonies in Africa. People from tour buses jostle for the classic photo at the sign. Later, we visit an impressive site in Cape Town: a hundred bronze statues of people (life-size) depicting the march to freedom. Centuries of racial discrimination, persecution, apartheid, and the struggle for liberation translated into bronze (and emotion). For a moment, we are not so proud to come from the Low Countries.
The center of Cape Town is mainly a “white” city. Apart from the performances at The Waterfront during Heritage Day, I see few people of color, except behind the cash registers of supermarkets, as cleaners, as waitresses, or as homeless people. Outside the city, we find depressing housing barracks or even slums. Inequality is the reality. Apartheid has been abolished, but poverty has not.
See more photos and the route taken.