Limpopo 17 December 2025

Baobabs, Sand Roads, and Puddle-Jumping

We woke up to incredible weather, and by 7 am, we knew it was going to be a hot day. Today was meant to be an easy ride, maybe 160km, but turns out we had a whopping 317km ahead of us to get to Ellisras. One unusual aspect of this town is that very few people actually associate it with coal mining, which is the reason it exists. Most will link it to wildlife farms, hunting or the South African Air Force.

After rolling out of Zvananaka, we jumped onto the N1, the main highway heading towards Zimbabwe (Beitbridge). No surprise, it was super busy. Within two minutes, we were stuck in a long queue, crawling along at 30km/h behind a massive truck. FYI, Beitbridge is a small village in Limpopo province that is ‘linked’ to Beitbridge, a small village in Zimbabwe, by the Beitbridge border crossing.

When a 4×4 Tries to Share Your Snot-Sized Gap

Now, the slow pace is fine, but the real drama starts with the idiots who think the rules don’t apply to them. I always keep a safe distance with Putin because our stopping power is basically a piece of snot on an ice cube. Naturally, Mr. 4×4 Cruiser decided this safety gap was left specifically for him to push into. Oh well, there’s no fixing stupid; we just have to be patient and wait for the “Darwin awards to be handed out”.

Baobabs and Back Roads

Luckily, we were only on that chaotic road for a short time before turning off toward Alldays, a small town known for 2 things: the diamond mine and hunting. This new route was quiet and lined with amazing Baobab trees. With their thick trunks and short branches, it looks like somebody planted them upside down; you can spot them for miles. Want to know why they are still standing? They’re useless! The wood is fiberous so it’s not good for furniture, and it makes for crap braai wood. But they are also very resilient and recover well from damage like bark stripping that would kill most other trees.

Just after Vivo, the real fun began: the gravel. We knew that the start and end of any gravel road are usually the worst parts, but this soon turned into a beautiful sand road. When Putin starts to snake from left to right, trying to stay straight, I’ve learned a long time ago not to fight it; you just need to keep a gentle grip on the handles and let him do his thing. We even managed a roadside brunch of boiled eggs and sausage.

Not the Red Baron

I’m ready, I prepared for this, it’s go time! Talking about getting some drone footage here. We’ve used the drone many times, but each time it’s a hassle. This time, I believe I’m ready with my specially adapted tank bag to keep the remote in place and a separate mount for the display. And this is how it went down:

We stop, I set everything up, calibrate the drone, get it in the air, and off we go. It follows us nicely as Putin snakes his way through the thick sand, then, after a few clicks, I notice that the camera view is not on us anymore. I stop and snatch the drone from the air like a real pro. Then it struck me – I never hit record! FFS! OK, let’s try this again. I hit the ‘record‘ button, but just as I was about to get going, I noticed something strange. The drone does not take up position as it would normally do, instead coming down and back up into a clearing between the trees. Before I could figure out what was happening, KABOOM, it went straight into the trees. I’m so over it now, I retrieve it, pack up and leave, almost losing my gloves that I left on the trunk. FYI, I did not press the record button but rather a button assigned to aborting the mission. In my defence, both are red.

Expert Mud Riders

All the recent rain had really done a number on the roads, creating sections so churned up by other vehicles that we had to slow down to a crawl. Then came the huge mud puddles. These are both scary (because you have no idea what is hiding beneath the surface) and fun (because figuring out how to cross them is a challenge). Our strategies included forging new paths through the bush, cautiously edging our way through, or, occasionally, just gunning it and hoping for the best. Since I’m here writing this, you know that all those methods worked out.

By the time we hit the tarmac near Marken, we felt like certified expert mud riders.

Although it had been a hot day, we saw lightning in the distance as we rode towards Ellisras. Soon enough, we rode straight into a rainstorm. We didn’t even bother stopping for the rain gear because the cold rain felt great and cooled us right down.

With 40km left, the rain cleared, and everything dried out quickly. Then came a truly special moment: passing the old SAAF radar station. I used to ride that road daily for months, 38 years ago, when I was part of the installation team for the Marconi/Plessey height finder, and seeing it now gave me a lump in my throat.

Food and Confusion, but separately

When we arrived, we needed lunch, so we went searching for a tea garden. Why a tea garden? Simply because we didn’t want to leave Putin, loaded with all our gear, alone. Even though we have locks and a security net, it’s not foolproof, so we prefer to eat somewhere where we can keep a close eye on everything. We found Casome tea garden at the Mogol golf club—great food and service, so we ordered takeaways for later.

Full bellies (and maybe a beer or two) made us lazy, but luckily, our guesthouse, De La Rose, was just a few robots away. When we got there, there was a little mix-up:

“Did you book today?” (not for today)

“No, weeks ago. My name is Anton.” (Showing her a booking confirmation).

“Oh, is this you?” (Showing me a text from a different person who booked today, named Eben).

“No, my name is Anton.”

“Eish.”

The Great Cake Caper (And Why We’re Sleeping In)

After checking in and getting ourselves sorted, I had a brilliant idea: a sudden, unstoppable mission to find something sweet to eat. I’d spotted a lovely coffee shop earlier, so I walked back down there with high hopes and a growling stomach. Total heartbreak—it was just after 5 pm, and they were already closed. I had to do the “walk of shame” back to our room empty-handed, which means no dessert tonight.

Returning from a closed coffee shop empty-handed is a bit like a bald man winning a comb—a total betrayal of the soul.

The good news is that tomorrow is officially a “short” day, so we aren’t in any rush. The plan is to sleep in, have a proper breakfast, and then slowly mosy on down to our next destination, Nylstroom. Just a quick side note: if your brain went straight to the Missouri Symphony’s summer festival when I mentioned ”mosy, you are a peculiar individual!