The essential store of knowledge of the Basotho culture is not only held with the confines of the Kingdom of Lesotho itself.
Since the early days of the 19th century, people from all walks of life and from all parts of the world have visited the country that was first inhabited by the San, before the arrival of the Baroa, the Nguni, the Griqua, the Kora and Barolong, the Asians and the Europeans. Many became attached to the country and those who moved on took with them memories at least.
Sekonyela, the son of Mantatisi, a Tlokoa group from the region, campaigned throughout Southern Africa with his heteroclite horde and changed the lives of the Nations he conquered, all the way up.....
Hissing along the flat dry sand roads of the Eastern Cape where rains have not come to rut and ruin the surface, noiseless bush rushes past with few interruptions and little flashes of subdued colours.
Long slim blue/yellow bands, winding through grey dusty scrub, crawl alongside their overshadowing hills, obeying orders to turn here and climb there. Never free to make the journey quicken.
Bright paint on dun walls and bravely contrasting wooden eyes and noses of the small dwellings who nestle together, their backs to the harsh sun and biting winter wind.
Harsh expensive lines of a brick and stucco church, stabbing diagonals and stretching limbs looking for the illusive celestial, laugh at the beggars and boozers sitting on it’s dirty pavements.
The first attempt of any enthusiastic observer, writer, photographer or inquisitive tourist at the discovery of Lesotho in the larger sense will inevitably lead to extensive travel. Days are spent rumbling along the gravel roads of the mountains and tearing along the fine tarmac roads of the lowlands looking for the special picture, the Basotho cavalier with Morokotlo hat, and wrapped in his black and yellow Sienna Morena blanket astride a fine bay pony. Or hours of driving the mountain road to see the large numbers of herds and herd boys heading out on their annual transhumance towards the summer grazing valleys in the Central Range.
Eventually the traveller seasons, or like a good wine, aerates once the cork is out.....