Ten Rural Bars You've Probably Never Been To

Ruby Tuesday I order a Tipo Tinto, meaning island spirit, the local rum, and fall hopelessly in love with this quirky, unpretentious bar at Ruby’s Backpackers on the far flung island of Ilha de Moҫambique some 2000 km north of the Mozambican capital of Maputo. It's tucked into the heart of Stone Town on this historic island which was settled in the 8th century and is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site because of its amazing coral rock buildings and architecture. What a powerful sense of history.   www.facebook.com/pg/RubyBackpackers/about/ 

Happy mercado You must pay for the cold Dosh Em (fabulous signature Mozambican beer) but the ukulele tunes are free at this small baracas in the mercado in Bilene, southern Mozambique. Bilene is a happy, shabby lagoon 'n seaside town an hour plus from Maputo. I don’t know why, but I just love this mercado so. It makes me want to laugh and drink rum, sing songs, slap my thigh. It's a warren of stalls selling food and drink and stuff. People gather here to haggle, trade, gossip, drink beer, watch soccer and sell just about anything from cashew nuts to cell phone covers. www.mozambiquetourism.co.za

Name of the game The Hang Over Bottle Store and its adjoining beer garden is a fabulous place to have a few G&Ts if you happen to find yourself in the middle of the market in Likoma Island in north eastern Malawi. Which I do. The island is charming and lapped by the waters of Lake Malawi, lake of stars. The Malawian gin - Waragi - is clear and strong. And Likoma Island is a great address. To its north is Tanzania, to its west Mozambique, east, Zambia, and all around, Malawi. ww.malawitourism.com

And Englishmen Even though my ship has still not come in, I always love coming to this bar with its neon sign and beautiful wooden counter at Mad Dogs Café near Hoedspruit. In my years of travelling between Limpopo and Maputo, I stopped here often, either for an early coffee or a late afternoon vino depending on whether I'd come down or up the escarpment through the Strijdom Tunnels above the Olifants River. This is a classic traveller's pit stop. www.bluecottages.co.za

High on beer This is Colin Ntshangase, a cricket loving Zulu and the brew master at Hops Hollow which is at the top of the Long Tom Pass in Mpumalanga. Colin recommends the Mac’s Porter ale which he tells me he formulated with women in mind. He says it has a “malty creamy fullness, smooth as silk”. Hops Hollow, outside Mashishing, claims to be the highest brewery in Africa - it’s 2150m above sea level. www.hopshollow.co.za

Wild horse grooves We day trippers beat a steady path up the steep pass to the eccentric misty village of Kaapsehoop in the mountains outside Mbombela. The Bohemian Groove Café is the soul spot here. Kaapsehoop was once a gold rush town - for about ten minutes -  and today is famed for its wild horses and lovely walks, as well as a cast of interesting local characters, bistros, bars and fabulous people. www.bohemiangroovecafe.co.za

Change your relaxing style We take the road to Vutuwangadzebu, deep in the heart of Vhembe district in Limpopo, and end up high in the rural villages apparently very far away from everything. So it’s completely fabulous to find a cold beer and some surprised looking locals at the Speakeasy Entertainment Hub. Don’t change your lifestyle said the billboard outside, change your relaxing style. Yebo yes. www.nightjartravel.com

Ten green bottles I am very impressed by the wall of green Jagermeister bottles that forms the display at Biker’s Rest bar in Graskop, on the Panorama Route in Mpumalanga. In case you didn't know, Jagermeister is a digestif made with 56 different herbs. And this is a real biker spot, like pub and grub like, with flags and paraphernalia and stuff so don't expect craft gin or canapes.

Another roadside attraction The crazy Toeka se Dae is on the R516 to Bela Bela, off the N1 to Limpopo. The décor is wacky - corrugated iron walls, road signs turned into tables, a bright orange Shooter Bar. I have a tequila. The waitress' name is Bella from Bela Bela. She had another late night she said and recommended the freshly baked bread from the deli. www.toekasedae.co.za

  

I know I had a beer here once because I took this picture. It was en route Carolina or Piet Retief or somewhere in the wetlands regions on Mpumalanga, details sketchy. I love this mural on the walls of the Kuyawiso Tavern. I am also struck by the similarity in style to the mural below which is from a bar in northern Malawi. 

The Relatives of Fabulousness

I could bear my self-pity no longer. I needed to get away from Heartbreak Hill and into loving arms. So I pointed my little white car, Princess, in the direction of Tzaneen and headed down the dizzying Magoebaskloof Pass to have lunch with my aunties and uncles at the Nut Village.

Reasons to be cheerful 

It’s a beautiful, soulful drive and luckily for me, they live next door to each other, so it’s like two for the price of one: One roast chicken and a bottle of wine gets you two momma bear hugs and two avuncular cuddles, on tap. Plus, jackpot, they also have wine. And both uncles are called Mike, so that’s one less name to remember after the wine.  The Nut Village – its real name is the Macadamia Retirement Village – sits calmly and quietly on the banks of the Tzaneen dam and has gorgeous gardens, indigenous trees and a host of extraordinary characters including my fabulous rellies. I always sign into the Nut Village as the Ministry of Fabulousness, and I always cite the reason for my visit as: G&T. 

And it’s always so good to lunch with the aunts and uncles. 

Billo Tooley

We all stem from one Billo Tooley who came farming in Agatha, near Tzaneen, in 1904 and begat the wild Tooley clan who are still alive and kicking and doing everything from politics and cheese making to brewing beer and having their hearts broken. There is strong ancestry and deep love; never a shortage of gossip or wit. I never met him, but Billo Tooley was a strong and handsome (ahem) man, they tell me. He married twice – once to Muriel Frances who started this particular Tooley branch that I lunched with; and then second time to my grandmother Elsie Margaret whose branch and lineage I’m afraid, is unquestionably madder.  Oh dear, that’s me. 

My grandmother Elsie

But I love my aunts and uncles stories. Depending on their moods and the weather, they regale me with tales of avocado farming and the perils of growing cucumbers in subtropical climes; the goings on at the old tennis club and how they found the biggest mashatu tree in deepest Africa. They tell me about how they once took ten children on a flatbed truck to camp in Mozambique for a month, how my mother once hung naked from a tree with my godmother Jean Solomon, how that lot lost everything and that bunch turned out disastrously, how so and so married twenty times and how one aunty once left her baby behind at a party. Mostly we just love each other and love each other’s company. I draw deep from ancestral wells when I lunch with my aunts and uncles at the Nut Village. I leave them with a fuller heart and belly.

The road to the rellies

They are older and wiser people, they have known deeper, greater life and they ease my broken heart, up my humour. They impart love and wisdom and the sense of this lovely quote I found from author  Louise Erdrich that: "Life will break you. You have to love, you have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree (or in our case an avocado tree) and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could."

Someone bring me a river, a hippo and a G&T please

The Lowveld bush is my happy place. If I could right now, I’d be deep in the bush with Darling, a cold G&T in hand, cruising slowly with all the windows open, perchance to spot an impala under an ancient fig or a pod of hippos basking in the sun like giant aubergines.

Hippos like giant aubergines in the sun 

Living in Limpopo I have been blessed to be able to disappear into the Lowveld bush in between all the madness, and as that good old-fashioned bushwhacker TV Bulpin wrote: “There is nothing quite like it anywhere else on earth. There is a sense of a presence brooding over this wilderness, imparting to it an indefinable character and allure.” This presence he says, embodies all of our longing for adventure, discovery and exhilarating freedom, and is the most unforgettable thing about the Lowveld. Yebo yeah. 

Some of my best soul moments have been seeing the creatures of the bush. A very muddy terrapin in a puddle in the Kruger, a wild dog puppy with satellite-dish ears in the Klaserie. A leopard that simply slunk across our path in Garonga, a hippo dancing at dusk at Ntsiri, a herd of elephant crossing the Timbavati river road in Kruger. And the trees and the rivers, the sunsets, the sunrises, the smell of woodsmoke. 

Sleepy buffalo calf x

Loved for its bushveld spirit, the Lowveld includes the Kruger Park that stretches down from Punda Maria in the north all the way down south to Malelane near the border of Mozambique and Swaziland. It includes the luxury private reserves like Sabi Sands and Mala Mala and the humbler provincial reserves and parks; the Limpopo Valley and the meeting of the borders of South Africa, Botswana and Zimbabwe….where it seems like the elephants an baobabs will never end, although we all know the sad truth that humanity seems ever hellbent on destroying the wild and its creatures. And thank you for the places where they are at peace. 

Pregnant rhino x

I need this virtual reflection of the bush after a befok crazy year in which I packed up the old family farmhouse, packed up dad who went off to Hermanus, packed up myself and packed, many, many suitcases and went to Jozi countless times, New York, Hawaii, Malawi, Ilha de Mocambique, Thailand, and Maputo twice.

Muddy but determined terrapin x

And as the famous South African rhino conservationist Ian Player said, the wilderness is a place of reflection. It's by considering the wilderness as a whole system that one starts to find its real magic. Everything in the bush is interconnected – from the slenderest grasses to the biggest trees - and the more greater the connection the more powerful the amazement. 
Bring me a river, a hippo and a G&T please someone…

Soul spot of note - the Timbavati River Road in the Kruger