The Northern Cape is one of South Africa’s poor relations – a parched area where fair-weather friends happily descend during the flower season. Why not load up the better half and kids for a long weekend and explore the back roads of Namaqualand.

The mixed grill at the Boesmanland Guest House in Loeries-fontein is perhaps what the Israelites had in mind when they longed for the flesh pots of Egypt.

A gigantic saddle chop (I suspect it may be the whole saddle), a steak that would make a cowboy grin and a piece of wors as long as Bakkies Botha’s forearm.

It’s just what photographer Ruvan Boshoff and I need after a day’s drive out of Cape Town. As the food settles, we go over our basic plan one last time.

The following morning we’ll take the gravel road from Loeriesfontein to Kamieskroon, then make a wide arc through the Namaqua National Park and surroundings, before spending the night in Kamies.

On Sunday morning it’s straight off to Garies and then home again.

The nightlife in Loeriesfontein is not exactly exciting, so I go to bed early.

Throughout the night the church bell desolately chimes out every hour.

LOERIESFONTEIN | The windmill town

It’s only 9 am, but already the mercury is clocking in around the thirties. The reflection from shiny blades hurts my eyes as we stride towards a huddle of wind pumps lazily stirring the morning air – The Loeriesfontein Windmill Museum.

Many years ago Batavia in Illinois, America, declared itself the only place in the world to boast a windmill museum.

We’ll show them, the people of Loeriesfontein decided. After all, windmills had also made it possible for livestock farmers to survive in previously uninhabitable parts of South Africa.

So in 1996 the residents set to work with typical plattelandse fervour. Today nearly 30 windmills stand next to the tiny old Baptist church: a Dandy, a Hercules, a Climax, a Southern Cross, a Dempster… pumps that succeeded in keeping many a herd alive in their day.

It’s time to hit the road, but first I have to draw money. It’s a quick jog down the road, past pretty gardens, the co-op and a petrol station to the only ATM
in town.

There’s a long queue; the folk who’ve driven in from the outlying farms for “town day” also need money. The wait is quite a social occasion. There are greetings all round, a lot of chit-chat, and bickering about the afternoon’s Super 14 game.