Victoria West Aerodrome, the Blikkies Bar, the Calvinia Quads and corbelled-house life

Attention all passengers

On 16 June 1919, a certain Captain Nash came out to Victoria West and, in the company of the mayor and a councillor, inspected a site just outside the little Northern Cape village.

He reported that the “sandhills between the bushes” were a bit hard and it would be nice if the council could have the area softened and levelled out. Thus was born the concept of an “air service station” that would put Victoria West on the world aviation map. It was a perfect refuelling spot for the aeroplanes flying between Cape Town and Johannesburg.

By 1926 the Victoria West Aerodrome was servicing the South African Air Force and the Imperial Airways (granddad of British Airways) on its Cape Town-to-London route. There was a miniature arrivals/departures hall and a dinkum flight control tower that overlooked the delicious vastness that is the Upper Karoo.

During the heady Wool Boom era of the early 1950s, local farmers’ wives would climb aboard a South African Airways Douglas DC-3 and go globe-trotting with a shopping list of note.

Old clippings will tell you that the job of replacing torn windsocks was assigned to the man from Bester’s Garage in town.

Although it lost its international status in 1967, Victoria West is still on the radar. All craft flying between Cape Town and points north routinely check in on the old aerodrome’s navigational beacons.

The Blikkies Bar

I’ll bet you’re wondering just what Old Speckled Hen – Strong Fine Ale tastes like. Well, I couldn’t really say. But I do know there are a couple of empty Old Speckled Hen beer cans up in the Blikkies Bar in Carnarvon, Northern Cape.

Here’s the skinny on Old Speckled Hen: At the MG car factory in England, employees used an aged model as a runabout. Over the years it was somehow covered in flecks of paint, so they nicknamed it “Owld Speckled ‘Un”.

That’s where the Morland Brewery originally got the name for its brown ale in 1979, when it was asked to craft a special beer for the 50th anniversary of the MG factory. Eventually the brewing company followed with Old Crafty Hen, Old Golden Hen and Old Hoppy Hen. But if you want the Real McCoy, so to speak, you just ask for “The Hen”.

I could go on, as I sit here in the Blikkies Bar gazing soulfully at thousands of beer cans collected from all over the world: London Pride, Watney’s Strong Pale Ale, Younger’s Tartan Special Bitter, Harp Lager, Buddles Bitter and so on.

A couple of bikers from Cape Town have just wandered in, complete with helmets, leathers and badges. Do you think they’d buy me a beer if I told them the Old Speckled Hen story? Let’s give it a bash.

Life in a corbelled house

Here’s a survival challenge for city dwellers normally plugged into all the latest hi-tech gadgets: come out to the Hard Man’s Karoo and live like a trekboer for a year. No Woolies, no Builders Warehouse, no Starbucks and no KFC. Definitely no DStv.

First order of business: let the local water diviner find you a spot where a decent well can be dug.

Build yourself a corbelled house nearby out of flat stones and clay mud. Don’t forget to make the dome-stone removable so fire smoke can escape. And when you shape the windows, make them small so only your rifle barrel can fit through. That’s for home defence.

Build a “donkey” stove outside for hot water and set up a long-drop toilet some distance away. Make sure it has a nice view.

Hand-grind your coffee beans and, before roasting, crush in some dried figs. The flavour will astound you. For protein, hunt down and butcher a beast, stashing the fresh meat in the coolest place around: under the marital bed. Plant fruit trees, an interesting mix of grapes, quinces, apples, oranges, pomegranates and said figs. For something pretty to look at, what about a Heritage rose or two?

After dark, watch the finest TV around: Channel One, featuring the mesmerising flames in the fireplace; Channel Two, starring the astounding heavens above outside.

Soon you’ll be lean, mean and happily off-grid.

The Quad Squad

Just imagine being one of four identical boys and growing up in the Faraway Karoo between Loeriesfontein and Calvinia.

Think of it from the Dad’s sheep-farming point of view: “Wow! Four more little workers in the business; Damn! Four more little mouths to feed.” From the Mom’s corner: “Wow! Four handsome sons to bring home four lovely wives one day; Damn! How am I going to burp them and rock them to sleep all at once?”

In fact, when JPP Lombard the Dad heard the news on a day in 1951 that four fresh-born baby boys were coming home with Hannie (his wife, their Mom) from a nursing home in Calvinia, he thought the nurses were playing tricks on him.

Their two daughters, aged eight and four, clapped their hands and shared this expression of delight: “Two for you and two for me!”

The early lives of the Karoo Quads are recorded in great detail and a lovingly arranged diorama in the Calvinia Museum. DM

For more stories on life in the South African Heartland, get the Karoo Quartet set of books (Karoo Roads I-IV with black and white photographs) for only R960, including taxes and courier costs in South Africa. For more details, contact Julie at julie@karoospace.co.za