Lesotho

I've made it across Lesotho. The mountains were spectacular and exhausting. I traveled through the center of the country, six days in the mountains and one long downhill right back into South Africa. In the mountains, the homes were round single rooms of stone with grass rooftops. Everywhere shepherds walked with animals. Wherever I was at least one was in sight. From high on the hills they would whistle and I would wave. People also walked on the roads and used donkeys to move goods. Through the mountains I was passed by a dozen or maybe 20 vehicles per day. The land was quiet and clean.

The villages varied between rural outposts of a few dozen homes tucked in among a thousand valleys and clusters of two to five homes positioned much more remote than that. Always near the villages was a spring, usually weak. The slow water tasted wonderful, sweet and fresh.

On one long climb a pack of 15 children chased me as I went. A six year old was the first to join in and for a half hour he stuck right by me. At the top everyone was breathless and sweaty, me included. It was at the end of the day and my legs were tired. I would have stopped sooner but that six year old looked to be on a mission to get to the pass in one go. I didn't want to let him down.

I spent a night with three shepherds. I was standing in the rain having a look around when one came by with cows and invited me to his home. They talked and laughed loudly in a language that sails across valleys. I stood with them around a small fire and ate goat. Wind whipped at the flame, taking embers up to scatter among the moon and the stars and the lightning.

2874 meters.

Nice view from an outhouse.

Goats!

Down from the mountains.