Nicol Grobler likes to have his first cappuccino of the morning on the verandah of the Richmond Café & Rooms overlooking the main street of his new hometown in the Northern Cape. It is the perfect vantage point from which to watch this Karoo dorp wake up. 

If he leans forward, Nicol can see all the way down the road to Magriet Burger’s bakkie pulling up outside Vetmuis Plaaskombuis, full of freshly baked rusks, ginger biscuits, venison pies and spinach quiches.  

Nicol raises his cup in greeting to Mossie Klaaste, the master builder in the purple cap, who just arrived at work. Nicol’s wife Klaradyn pops out briefly to offer more coffee. Her flour-smeared apron smells faintly of milk tart and lemon meringue.

Richmond, Northern Cape: The perfect view of Richmond’s Loop Street is from the Grobler’s Café and Rooms. Image: Chris Marais

Read in Daily Maverick: Moving to a small town: The pitfalls of platteland life

Next door is the Richmond Horse Museum. Nicol waves to Johan Tolken, curator and general history buff, arriving to open up the building. Originally from Lambert’s Bay, Johan never really meant to move to Richmond. He just came to help a relative fix up a guesthouse. But that was years ago. The Karoo and now this museum have crept into his heart.

Just then, Kevin McKey walks past. He and his wife Beth lived in Durban until he was headhunted for a high-pressure job in Johannesburg. Three years later he was retrenched. He and Beth decided to consolidate their assets and find a town where they could live more simply, and debt-free. 

Max Ndamane, leading the gardening service and ardent small-scale farmer cycles swiftly past, his spades, rake and lawnmower all packed in the neat little trailer that he made himself, attached to the back-wheel hub. He grins and nods a greeting at Nicol.

Richmond, Northern Cape: Max Ndamane is part of the warp and weft of this small town. He was a Mr Fixit, then ran a tiny gardening service, and now farms a small patch of land as well as mentoring other emerging farmers. Image: Chris Marais

Richmond, Northern Cape. John Donaldson and his dog Potlood (now late) at peak hour. John, who used to manage a small media company in Johannesburg, moved to Richmond after a visit to the dorp in 2009. Image: Chris Marais

Next out is John Donaldson of Richmond Books & Prints, padding across the road. John is a dead ringer for a Dorsland trekker, or a cowboy who has wandered off the film set, lean, bearded face shaded in a broad leather hat. The effect is totally spoilt by his ridiculous footwear – plakkies on tanned feet. 

Instead of a paint horse clopping behind him, there is Potlood (now late), a patchwork hound of no particular pedigree but boundless wisdom in every bone. 

John used to run a small media house in Johannesburg and visited Richmond in 2009. He didn’t intend to move here either but couldn’t resist buying some of the beautiful old houses that were going cheap. He sells books in the shop, but most of his transactions happen via the Internet. There was no need to return to the madness of Johannesburg so he stayed and learnt to use angle-grinders, sanders and e-commerce.

Nicol – originally from Ladybrand and then East London – says this quiet moment of caffeine and connection is one of his favourites in the day. It binds him to the town he and Klaradyn have called home since the end of 2015. 

Living together

There are many reasons people decide to leave the city for the platteland, but what keeps them in the countryside is the intimacy of life within a vast rural landscape, a sense of community. 

This was something that appealed immensely to Anthony Hocking, who moved from Johannesburg to Bethulie in 1983, after seeing an advert for a house there in an edition of Landbou Weekblad.

Bethulie, Free State: Author and hotelier Tony Hocking, who owns the Book Hotel, moved from Johannesburg in 1983, after seeing an advert for a house in Bethulie in the Landbou Weekblad. Image: Chris Marais

“I love being part of a small dorp. It’s three-dimensional and the pleasures are pure and undiluted. I can see South Africa more clearly. I can see issues develop. I know the people, the kids, who they’re related to.

“In a big town or city, people are connected in a daisy chain. This person knows that one, and that one knows the next, until you get back to the starting point. But in a small town, it’s like a cat’s cradle made of string. Everyone is linked to everyone else, and that knits them together as a tight unit.”

One of the first things this writer noticed when we came to live in Cradock was how many people waved to us in greeting. If it wasn’t a lifted hand, it was a courteous nod.

“Who is that?” Chris Marais would stage-whisper to me. 

“I have no idea,” I’d reply, as yet another friendly white bakkie passed by.

We thought the waving and the nodding and the smiling would stop when people became used to us, but it didn’t. This is what happens in small towns. You are seen and acknowledged. It was bewildering and refreshing after the city habit of avoiding eye contact.

The social life

Victoria Nance, formerly of Port Elizabeth and now co-owner of Dustcovers bookshop in Nieu-Bethesda, sometimes gets city-based browsers drifting in and wistfully saying they’d love to stay in such a village and not interact with anyone for weeks on end. 

“If you want to be a hermit and live unnoticed, don’t move to the platteland,” is her advice.

“You have a far better chance of being overlooked in a city suburb. The smaller the town, the bigger the social life. You’re expected to take part.”

Country people chat, kuier and get to know one another. It’s nothing like the cut-to-the-chase encounters of the big city. 

Victoria Nance, who runs the Dustcovers bookshop in Nieu-Bethesda, has advice for those who think they can move to a small town and remain anonymous hermits. Image: Chris Marais

Nieu-Bethesda, Eastern Cape: Many small bands love performing in towns like Nieu-Bethesda because of the kind audiences and sheer fun. Image: Chris Marais

Better value 

Another big reason people downsize to the countryside is cost.

With the exception of stylish coastal towns, most things are cheaper in rural areas – notably property. Rates and taxes are usually lower. So are insurance premiums. You can walk to most places in a small town. There are generally no malls where children and adults fritter away money; a rural life offers a chance to buy milk, meat and other foods directly from local farmers. Haircuts, manicures and services like plumbing, electrical and gardening are, on the whole, far more affordable.

This is what makes it possible for people to sell up and settle their debts back in the city, consolidate their assets and live on a smaller income. 

Where we live in the Eastern Cape Karoo, it’s common to see sacred ibises or black-headed herons flying above the main road. Cattle egrets and lesser kestrels roost in tall trees and steenbokkies forage along farm roads.

Liz and John Barrow from Johannesburg bought a house on the edge of Greylingstad for the price of a three-piece leather lounge suite, as she put it.  

The relocation process had its problems but the main value in it for them was the access to Nature. 

Liz wrote: “I go out of our gate, through a gap in the fence and I’m on the koppies with our two Jack Russells, able to walk anywhere I like, seldom seeing another person. The view from our bedroom is onto veld, rocks and trees. The jackals and Cape foxes call at night. The skies are enormous and we can see the sun and moon rising and setting without interference from buildings.”

Outside a country dorp, dirt roads with interesting animals spread in every direction. Stopping to greet horses or listen to the birdsong is a requisite part of country living. Image: Chris Marais

A Lesser Kestrel in Hanover, Northern Cape. In the platteland, one of the pure pleasures is being closer to nature. African harrier hawks often flap through trees, and herons or egrets fly above the main roads. Image: Chris Marais

The purest of country pleasures are free – wide open landscapes and fresh air. Image: Chris Marais

Food and generosity

Country kindness is also expressed through food. When we first moved to Cradock, our kitchen was unusable because of renovations. Our neighbours across the road (whom we didn’t know at the time) brought over roosterkoek, green fig preserves and biltong. Another family supplied us with braaied chops and potato salad. Someone else came over with a bottle of sweet muscadel. 

Suddenly it’s much easier to appreciate the seasonality of crops – apricots and peaches in spring and summer, quinces and pomegranates in autumn, oranges and naartjies in winter. The glut is transformed into jams, preserves and cordials but also given away. 

On the list of foods not often found in big cities is roosterkoek, which is griddle-baked bread. Image: Chris Marais

One of the great pleasures for kids at a braai – stokkiesbrood, or dough wound around a stick and slowly cooked over a fire. Image: Chris Marais

Over the winter hunting season, local soup kitchens benefit greatly, making meaty stews and broths. 

Jenny Ballantyne used to be involved in the Cape wine industry. Then she moved to Murraysburg with her partner Chris Barr.

“I go back to Cape Town to visit friends but after a while, I can’t wait to return. 

“I miss the clean environment, and knowing exactly who produces the food we eat – the free-range chickens, eggs, olives, cheeses and meats. I also miss picking the vegetables and fruits from my own garden.”

Garden gnomes

Living in a small town offers many other perks. 

There is something about the quiet that makes the most mundane things feel holy at times – like hanging out freshly washed sheets as blue cranes fly high overhead. 

Every day is Casual Friday here in the platteland, and people are also remarkably tolerant of garden gnomes. Image: Chris Marais

Local newspapers feature pensioners’ birthdays, wool prices and school sports. It’s considered unusual not to nap after lunch, especially on Sundays. 

Every day is Casual Friday. 

Pets and children are far better tolerated in the countryside than in cities. 

And no one mocks your garden gnomes. DM

‘Moving to the Platteland: Life in Small Town South Africa’ by Chris Marais and Julienne du Toit.

‘Road Tripper: Eastern Cape Karoo’ by Chris Marais and Julienne du Toit.

This is an excerpt from Moving to the Platteland: Life in Small Town South Africa by Julienne du Toit and Chris Marais. The authors are offering a two-book special of Moving to the Platteland: Life in Small Town South Africa and Road Tripper: Eastern Cape Karoo (illustrated in black and white) for only R520, including courier costs in South Africa. For enquiries, contact [email protected].