Khotso, Pula, Nala. The official motto of Lesotho wishes Peace, Rain and Prosperity upon this tiny mountainous country. We had come here in search of adventure, solitude, wild fish (of course) and to find out how fitting their slogan really is. A beautiful pair of Gurney’s Sugarbirds had waved us out of our homeland while we trudged steadily along the treacherous Sani pass, dodging the not-so-4x4s rattling and squeaking downhill. After stamping through the world’s calmest customs, an eery lunar landscape greeted us, complete with chilly wind gusts and gasping high-altitude air. A foamy cappuccino hit the right spot at the very touristy Afri-ski lodge before we continued to set up camp at Oxbow Lodge, nestled snuggly between the rugged mountains next to the upper Malibamatso river.  

Following the river course here provides endless opportunity for an off-the-beaten-track mission.  Hiking and fishing up the valley, we did not encounter a soul during the whole day. The deafening silence of the mountains was punctuated only by the ubiquitous sound of Lesotho – that of goats and their cowbells high up along the rocky ridges. We raised a few obliging wild rainbows from the chilled river. We swam in the crystal pools, enjoying the sun-basking afterwards almost as much as the water. While lunching on cold braai leftovers we looked upon a pastoral scene of endless mountaintops, tumbling streams and swaying grasses. In that moment, the world seemed content with itself. Khotso.

Despite a few normal African challenges, such as tedious petrol-searching detours, wet firewood by the metric tonne, and navigation with questionable confidence, we arrived on the outskirts of Maloraneng village the next day. The plan was to spend the afternoon fishing the nearby Khubelu river. As with all good plans, it all got swept away with one of the Mountain Kingdom’s famous afternoon showers. Donning a transparent camo-yellow poncho, Simoné did however manage to land her very first river trout that day. Happy days!

A Lesotho trip simply needs to include a visit to the Katse Dam. We made our way there through a series of semi-off-road trails that made the trip all the more memorable. Marvelling at the imposing landscapes, waiting forever for stubborn road-donkeys, and taking roadside breaks to drink scalding coffee laced with sweet condensed milk were only some of the highlights. Following another rained-out fishing stop, we set up camp overlooking the mighty impoundment in all its glory. The setting was truly remarkable, as was the potjie that night, and what was probably our only dry campfire of the whole trip. 

Meandering through the countless mountain passes (i.e. all roads) burns enough fuel to quickly come to terms with an important truth of African travel: Fill up wherever you can. Such a truth becomes ever the more profound when one discovers it is embarrassingly tricky to remove one’s own fuel cap. Teething issues of spoilt travellers… Another detour brought us to a hilltop overlooking the Mohale Dam further South. Yet another sudden thunderstorm engulfed us here, with the confines of the Jeep being very welcome amidst the lighting, wild gusts and sweeping sheets of rain. The storm’s aftermath left us a beautifully clear and fresh late afternoon to tease the yellowfish in the Senqunyane valley, with all things cleansed and dripping wet. Pula.

The Maletsunyane river and waterfall formed the last part of our journey. We camped at the tranquil Semonkong lodge and explored the river nearby. It was here that we awoke to profuse mayfly hatches, had sundowners with the local Bald Ibis colony, and tangled with feisty brown trout of above-average proportions and fierce nocturnal hunting habits. We DIYed our own way down to the bottom of the falls – not something for the faint-hearted. Casting a sinking line into the deep mysterious pool surrounded by a thunderous and misty spray, hoping to glimpse one of the fabled monsters that live here, is an experience second to none. With feet dangling in the icy water, we enjoyed a most extravagant streamside lunch of thick marbled steaks and feta-filled butternut. We napped it off with a visiting Piet-my-vrou providing a lullaby from the nearby shrubbery, before braving the climb out. 

It is not only the rugged mountain landscapes, remote watercourses and sense of wildness that makes Lesotho special. Its people are warm and friendly, particularly in the rural areas. They work very hard, but will always smile and wave at passing visitors, seemingly content and pleased with the humble piece of land they tend despite the obvious hardships. We also became acquainted with some of the ever-present animals wherever we went. Choppies the bell-ringing sheep, Vlooitjie the pap-eating dog, Dourette the nuisance chicken and Hansie the ganster gansie – we salute you all!

Lesotho is the kind of place that challenges you and keeps its secrets well hidden. Despite its economic challenges, it is richly blessed with the most majestic mountains, a welcoming people, lush green valleys, unspoilt waters, and wild-spawned trophy fish. Prosperity is sometimes all around us if we just take the time to look. Nala.