Recollections of a Rover “For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move; to feel the needs and hitches of our life more nearly; to come down off this feather-bed of civilization…” -Robert Louis Stevenson-

I am staring at water; a writhing, bursting body of it. The water of a valley nestled in the Drakensberg Mountains.

Bubbling liquid from a miniature waterfall cascades into a pool of delight. The hikers stoop to savour its purity after a wearisome walk. I can taste the story of the mountains as the stream soothes my parched throat.

The pool sparkles as if a thousand tiny crystals dwell within. We are surrounded by the rich colours of Mother Nature: emerald foliage, sapphire liquid, and ruby blossoms adorning the plains.

Best of all are the golden rays which the sun bestows on our fatigued figures, a safeguard against the sharp winter chill. Invigorated by this mystical fountain, we continue our journey, leaving behind an alcove of heaven.