Welcome to Lesotho - now more picturey

We are holed up in our thatched-roof rondavel, as the summer skies completely open up on us. Welcome to Lesotho.

The drive from Jo'burg was eerily similar to a drive through eastern Alberta or western Saskatchewan. We don't think of South Africa as a farming nation, but the fields and rangeland south of Jo'burg appear as endless as they do in Iowa, with a foothills-like geography.

As we approached Lesotho, the terrain started to become more interesting, with ridges and mesas in the distance. Soon we were driving through those mesas, and watching the storm clouds build on the horizon: the horizon we were driving towards. Occasional lightning. Yikes.

 

Entering Lesotho was quick and relatively painless at the major border crossing at Maseru (the Capital city). So quick and painless we are pretty sure we skipped a few steps, like officially leaving South Africa, or Customs, or something. Crossing the border you are dropped right into Maseru. We arrived just after 5:00, and apparently the Chinese-owned textile factories that finance the town had just completed a shift change for the day, meaning it was rush hour. Fortunately for us, everyone else in Maseru was walking, so although the mass of humanity commuting by foot was spectacular, it wasn't a traffic concern.

 

The same can't be said for navigating a roundabout when you are sitting on the wrong side of the car, with the shifter on your left, the cars entering from the right, and you having to stay left...who has right of way again?

The landscape of Lesotho appeared spectacular, from what we could see between the closing clouds. Then began the unholy shitstorm: torrential downpour, thunder, lightning, the whole works began just as we pulled into our lodging. So far the thatched roof appears to be keeping the driving rain out, but we have not even braved going back out to the car to unpack our bags. And our lone light flickers with every thunderclap.