The evenings riding took me to the Robbers' Pass, a twisty pass leading to the restored mining village of Pilgrims Rest. The road was dark and covered in thick mist, and suddenly there was a herd of cows right in front of me! Luckily the tyres took grip and I managed to evade them. The cows were left mooing surprisedly as I twisted my throttle, speeding into the village.

I found the Royal Hotel (Tel +27-13-768-1100, Web www.royal-hotel.co.za), founded in 1873, from the village Uptown and booked a nice Victorian styled room. After an adequate dinner in the hotel restaurant and some beers in the Church bar I set in for the night.

In the morning I found a nice gravel road following the Blyde river from Pilgrims Rest to Bourke's Luck Potholes. Soon my clothes were covered in splashes of thick red mud as I blasted along the empty road. Sight of two baboons running across the road in front of me and disappearing to the bush raised a thick smile to my face. Finally, I was in Africa!

In Bourke's Luck the gas situation was starting to look alarming, and as the township didn't have a petrol station I decided to turn south, following a tar road to the nearest bigger town. After filling up I consulted the map and headed for the kingdom of Swaziland, a small monarchy situated in the border of South Africa and Mozambique.

After some nice riding on twisty main roads, sometimes spotting signs like hippo warnings I stopped in Barberton for a fill up. From there I took the Saddleback Pass, a challenging 43 kilometer gravel route winding its way across the Drakensberg mountains. There was no other traffic on the road, and I spent most of the time riding inside a cloud, struggling to keep the bike on correct course on the more challenging parts of the route.

In Bulembu I had my first African border crossing with a motorcycle, which proved to be a very easy experience. I was asked for a 5 rand road tax in Swaziland, but otherwise had none of the problems we had had crossing the border to Lesotho.

The roads turned a lot better in Pigg's Peak, and I continued riding among the hilly scenery to Mbabane, the capital of the kingdom. As Mbabane didn't look very interesting, I rode on to the nearby Ezulweni valley (Valley of Heavens), famous for its holiday opportunities. On the entrance to the valley there was a huge crafts market area where I was able to find a a traditional smoking pipe made out of ebony.

I quickly spotted a sauna facility (Swazi Spa) on the side of the road and made the decision on staying in Swaziland for the night instead of pressing on for the Indian Ocean. After checking in to a nearby Backbackers Hostel I went to check out the sauna.

Swazi Spa is a collection of whitewashed beehive huts located near some natural hot springs. The spa package cost 50 rand for unlimited time, with the ability to order beverages as needed. The actual sauna was made in Finnish style, except for the fact that visitors were not allowed to throw water on the rocks, leaving this task for the sauna attendants. The sauna was filled with Swazis, making me the only foreign visitor. During the several rounds of sauna and cooling off outside, I had several interesting conversations, ranging from "Our king has 11 wives and so doesn't have time to govern his country" to "If Adam and Eve were Chinese, we would still be living in Paradise". Apparently the Swazi culture is a mixture of local traditions and the Christian religion.

Not surprisingly I was the last visitor in the sauna, and spent a while chatting with Tulil, the Swazi girl managing the Spa. Following her suggestion I went for an excellent curry dinner in the First Horse restaurant. After dinner I took a short visit to the Why Not disco, but not liking the atmosphere returned to the hostel where I shared some beers and chat with the guy running the place. The most concrete outcome of the evening was learning the Swazi word for beer, "Chuala".

After a mosquito-ridden night I went to see the nearby reconstructed 19th century rural Swazi village. As I had worked in similar historical re-enactment projects earlier I was interested in how things like that were handled in Africa. The employees didn't seem too enthusiastic about their job, and so the whole experience was quite cheesy. However, with the same ticket I was able to enter the national park surrounding the village.

There were numerous baboons and a kudu antelope hiding in bushes. The very beautiful twin waterfall was easy to find following the signs posted on the road. As there was nobody in sight, and so signs strictly prohibiting it I waded across the river and went for a refreshing swim in the pool beneath the falls.

After the national park I continued my way back to South Africa. When stopping for an ATM in the Royal Swazi golf resort I passed the royal motorcade, completing my short visit to the kingdom.

In the morning we broke the camp and packed Rudi's car for the return trip. We discussed the route for a while with a 4x4 bus driver, but his only advice was to leave the Matebeng pass in southern Lesotho for goats. The gravel roads in the Lesotho highlands are rugged and twisty, broken with occasional stream or even a stone wall. We rode through several passes connecting valleys of breathtaking view filled with countless rondawels of the Basotho villages. Road signs were nonexistent so we had to navigate by checking distances of intersections with GPS and guessing which of the roads would be the right one. Only places marked with signs at all were the numerous primary and high schools, full of uniformed students listening to a lecture outside.

Every now and then a Basotho hut would bear a white or yellow flag, indicating to passersby that they would have something to trade. Apparently yellow flag meant the availability of beer but the meaning of the white flag was left unclear. It would anyway have to be a commodity useful even in most rural areas, as some huts we had seen in the high mountains had also flown that banner. Some guesses included milk or gasoline.

After hours of driving and a gas stop in a village where our tank was filled using an empty Coke bottle we came to Katse dam, the main point of the Highlands Water Project providing most drinking water and some electricity to the central South Africa. Near the dam the roads changed into good tarmac, to our big disappointment.

We had tried unsuccessfully to buy ice from several places along the road for cooling our beer. When we stopped to a view point to take some photos of the dam, a fierce hailstorm started solving the problem. As the hailstones were very big we ran to shelter, listening to the very hard drumming sound they made against the tin roof of the visitor centre. After the worst hail had subsided we got outside, and started collecting the hailstones into our beer cooler. As the hailstones were quite dispersed and were being melted by the rain we couldn't get the cooler filled before having to drive on. After driving for a moment we came to a canyon where the hailstones from the cliffs had collected into larger piles. Laughing, we jumped out of the car to collect them. Then we noticed a larger pile laying miraculously on the other side of the road for no apparent reason, enabling us to fill the cooler easily. "Ice from heaven", we decided.

As we drove on, we noticed that the local shepherds were quite prepared for such weather, as most of them were wearing construction helmets. The hailstorm turned into a most amazing thunderstorm, with lightning striking continuously around us for over an hour. We passed into the lowlands using the extremely beautiful Mafika-Lisiu Pass, and crossed the South African border at Ficksburg.

We drove for a dinner in a nice Italian restaurant in Clarens and camped for the night in the Golden Gate National Park. Arriving next afternoon to Johannesburg provided a very striking contrast between the ancient Basotho huts and the tall modern office buildings of Jo'burg.

In evening we went for a very nice dinner in a better-quality South African restaurant, enjoying exotic dishes like Kudu antelope.

Full moon was shining, there was distant thunder illuminating clouds over the hills, and the area was filled by sounds of frogs and night birds. Rudi made us some traditional South African stew on the fire in a big round potjie kettle, which we enjoyed with some excellent local stout beers and red wine.

After dinner we fetched some African drums and enjoyed the combination of drumming, cuban cigar and some songs from different places. I sang "Murheellisten laulujen maa" and Andrea some tango from Buenos Aires.

In the next morning we had the final discussions related to the Midgard training and started packing for the trip. As in South Africa normal stores can't sell alcohol we had to take a quick visit to a liquor store to get the required camping bottles.

With all the hassle involved in preparations we were able to leave only around four, after having to return to the house to leave right doors open for Justice the gardener.

We took a quick stop in Johannesburg to get a road map of Lesotho and joined the friday evening traffic heading south on N3. We reached the Midlands in dark, heading for a backpackers' inn on the foot of the Drakensberg mountains. The gravel road in the hilly terrain was very twisty and we passed lots of Tolkienesque place names, including Hobbit's Hut and Rivendell.

It was midnight when we reached the inn, and staff was sleeping. They had left a note for us to help ourselves, and after some discussion we decided to skip the dorm room and set up tents on the front yard.

In morning we drove to the nearby town of Underberg for some supplies. We found a nice small camping store where I was able to get a leather safari hat to keep the correct appearances. After the California-like Pretoria Underberg had a really African feel to it, streets filled with people, market stalls and minibuses.

On the way to Sani Pass we stopped in The Himeville Arms pub for some local Pale Ale, but the place was unfortunately out of it. After a quick tanking stop we started the ascent up the pass.

Sani Pass is the most famous mountain road in southern Africa, and driving it is only allowed for real 4x4 vehicles. The scenery was quite breathtaking, with the jagged edge of the Dragensberg escarpment above and rolling hills below, with an occasional stream or waterfall. The South African border check point was located in the first part of the pass. The border officials had some issues with Toni's working permit but otherwise we were able to get through easily.

On the top of the pass we got to the mountain plateau opening above the escarpment, with the Lesotho border post, some native round houses built of loose stones, and finally Sani Top Chalet, the highest pub in Africa (29°35'08 S, 29°17'14 E. Tel +27-33-702-1158, web www.sanitopchalet.co.za).

The Chalet is an inn built in the beginning of the sixties for adventurers entering Lesotho through the Sani Pass. The place had the feeling of a classical ski lodge, with all the old photos, skiing equipment on the walls and comfortable sofas arranged around fireplaces.

Toni went walking on the Drakensberg ridge to get some photos while we sat down for some of the Pale Ales we had previously missed in Himeville. While Toni was out a quite sudden hailstorm came from behind the mountains. Anticipating his wet and cold return we ordered him an Irish Coffee and tried to make the fire in the fireplace bigger. He came back smiling to our big surprise but still seemed glad to get the warm drink.

Because of the weather change most of us decided to stay in the Chalet's dorm room while Rudi and Ryan set up their tent to front of the inn. In the dorm we met Bo, a Dane who had left his job in an IT consulting company in Denmark two years earlier to come eRiding in the rural Lesotho. Our group was quite surprised to meet a fellow eRider, and the rest of the evening went comfortably around a nice dinner swapping stories about working with NGOs or life in Lesotho. During the course of the night we managed to drink the Chalet out of the Pale Ale and switched to Maluti, a local beer brand.

In the morning we started sorting our gear for the hike ahead, and discussing potential routes with the innkeeper. We didn't have any maps of the area, and the only ones the Chalet could provide were large wall-sized ones. The innkeeper drew us a "treasure map" of few lines about the route to mount Thabana-Ntlenyana, the highest peak in southern africa. the lack of a real map was not a problem as we had a GPS navigator and were able to estimate the coordinates of the peak from one of the maps. As a precaution, Toni also took some digital photos of the map. I bought a nice dark wooden walking stick for the climbs.

Everything sorted out, we left the inn around 11am. We decided to climb the first mountain on our way for the scenery value instead of walking around it as the innkeeper had advised. The ascent proved to be much more difficult than assumed. While the others had been more acclimatized in Pretoria, I had really some issues with getting enough breath on the high altitudes. However, the sight from the top was certainly worth it, with endless hills and mountains opening to all directions.

Above the first mountain it became clear that regardless of their bare look, the mountains were filled with life. Huts of the rural Basuthu people were scattered all around the valleys, and the mountain sides were full of sheep and horses grazing under the watchful eyes of shepherd boys.

We met the first Basuthu shepherds on top of the mountain. The shepherds were all dressed in the traditional dress of a loincloth, woolen balaclava hats, gum boots and a blanket worn on the shoulders in fashion reminding of Scottish kilts or Viking cloaks. Apparently with this gear the shepherds would be able to survive in the harsh mountain weather all year round.

The shepherds were very curious of us and our hiking gear, and were happy to give us instructions and pose for photos, even though we didn't have a common language. Some of the shepherd boys knew English phrases, mostly limited to the greeting "good morning". We tried to learn some Suthu language from them but lacking common vocabulary it proved to be too time consuming, limiting our communications pretty much to sign language, place names and the local OK, "sharp".

After the first mountain we descended to a nice river valley where we had a short break for light lunch and filtering more drinking water. There were many horses grazing nearby, and some donkeys came to drink from the stream very near us.

We continued our way on top of the next mountain, and saw that there would be yet another valley before we would actually get to climb the sides of Thabana-Ntlenyana. As sun was getting nearer to horizon we decided to camp near the river on the bottom. It took a while to find a reasonably dry position. When we were preparing to set up tents three shepherd boys came talking to us, and explained that we couldn't camp there, as there were diamonds in the river. After offering to dig us some for ten rands, which we declined, the boys agreed to show us a place where we could sleep. The place was a nice small hill (29°29'59 S, 29°16'26 E) between two streams with a magnificent view to the nearby mountains and valleys.

While we were setting up tents more shepherds came to watch us. While communication was difficult we were able to share some laughs and information. They seemed especially amused about my walking stick, and tried to swap it for one of their shepherd sticks. Most of the shepherds left when we started making food, but one younger boy stayed, starting to ask us for stuff, like "give me your watch". Obviously we didn't give him anything, and his attitude made us a bit wary as we were in a very remote place, surrounded by only some Basuthu settlements.

Bo had told us a story on the previous night about some Peace Corps volunteers who had been set up by their guide and mugged in the mountains. We made some precautions like stuffing all valuables to bags that could be easily picked up should we need to flee the spot. We mostly discounted this as paranoia, however, and continued spending the evening around some rum and sherry as the night kept colder. The weather was very clear and it was easy to see a huge number of stars, and the shape of Milky Way and two other galaxies. When we finally crawled into our tents we noticed that some frost had accumulated on our bags. We fell asleep listening to singing from the Basuthu hut on the hill above us.

We woke up quite early in the morning. While we were breaking the camp one of the older Basuthu shepherds came down to us, playing an improvised violin built out of steel wire, some branches, horse hair and an oil can. He seemed to take artistic pride in both his self-made instrument and ability to play for an international audience.

After the concert we started ascending the mountain side. After a two hour climb, we reached the highest peak south of Kilimanjaro, Thabana-Ntlenyana, 3482m (29°28'10 S, 29°16'15 E). We took a long rest on the top, taking some pictures and sun bathing. I smoke some pipe and Ryan prepared us a bowl of vegetable curry. Five Basuthu shepherds came up to talk with us, and we prepared some cheese sandwiches for them. When we started our descent from the mountain two of them asked us not to go to the nearby valley, as their sheep were grazing there.

Bypassing the valley we walked to the edge of the Drakensberg, to a beautiful spot (29°29'39 S, 29°17'63 E) on top of a river valley opening the view towards Durban and Indian ocean. We could easily see Underberg and Himeville as small settled areas far below. We decided to try some geocaching, hiding some German Euro coins under a rock pile and taking down the coordinates. The coordinates would later be published on the internet so that somebody else could find the same stunning place. Geocacher would then try to find our Euro cache, take the coins and replace them with something else of equal value, enabling others to also seek the place. Apparently there are hundreds of similar caches around the world, all with stunning places out of typical hiking paths.

On the way back I was feeling quite exhausted and could almost feel the presence of beer back at the Sani Top lodge. When we finally arrived there the first sip of Pale Ale tasted unspeakably good, after going up and down mountains in the dry and hot Lesotho highlands. We had some more beers and a nice dinner of chicken curry. After the dinner we set up our tents and sat for a while in the dorm with some Tasmanians discussing abseiling and sharing a bottle of Salmari, a typical Finnish liquor.

We ate outside in the dark but candlelit backyard of the group house. The roast proved to be excellent, coupled with sweet potatoes in chili sauce. After meal we spent the evening lounging outside, enjoying some Amarula cream liquor and talking about Open Source, NGOs and the state of the world.

In the morning we went to walk the dogs with Ryan and walked around the residential area of the hill. The hill was filled with huge houses of very interesting architecture and seemingly endless pools and garden paths. It was very easy to feel the presence of the country's colonial past.

Training continued on wednesday, as usual interrupted by some electricity shortages and an afternoon thunderstorm. The Pyrenees dog that had attacked me the other day had apparently been nearly hit by lightning as a pup, and so was terminally afraid of thunder, almost ready to jump through a window the get inside.

When the training was over we headed to Johannesburg on Rudi's 4x4. Despite all the talk of crime very little of it was visible on the streets, except "Armed response" signs on the gates of many industrial and apartment areas.

We visited the group's old commune apartment near the university to pick up Andrea who had went earlier to arrange her Lesothoan visa. The commune was populated by volunteer workers from all around the world, and while it was almost empty at the time of visit it was easy to see how hectic the life in such place must be.

The evening's main event was visit to a native drum show Drumstruck, which was held in the very nice looking New Market Theatre. Everybody in the audience was given an African drum, and participation was required in many spots. The show was very well arranged, with an excellent combination of drum rhythms, African songs and theatrical parts. At places the atmosphere of having the whole theatre, audience included beating on their drums in unison was quite hypnotic. Certainly something to remember.

When the show was over we continued to a traditional African restaurant next door for a nice meal of Umnqusho (?), a stew of meat, beans and spices. The place was filled with all kinds of colonial memorabilia, from old kitchen utensils to maps and photos. We tried to start the meal with some dried worms in piri-piri, but unfortunately the restaurant was out of them.

After dinner we drove back to Pretoria listening to the same African drum tunes from the show on a CD and discussing the upcoming presidential elections in South Africa, among other things.

The luggage finally arrived after the training in thursday. Apparently they had tried delivering it earlier but had messed up with the address and didn't call because the phone number was Finnish.

Tonight we're planning on spending the evening barbequing around a fire on the hill, enjoying the scenic view and African night sounds. Tomorrow there will be only some hours of training and then we leave on the road trip to Lesotho.

After this it was quite pleasant to get to the lot warmer Paris. The six hour wait at Charles de Gaulle airport was tedious, with the whole terminal apparently asleep. Luckily I could waste the time by working on some training slides and reading the book.

The long flight to South Africa went well, and Air France food proved to be better than expected. In the morning skies were clear with vast, dry desert area opening below us, with small villages with their airports scattered around. Flying over Johannesburg showed the dual structure of the society. Townships of tin huts were lying right next to upper class neighborhoods with their golf courses and tennis courts.

On the airport I heard that my luggage had never left Helsinki. However, Air France promised to get it to me on the next day. Ironically, this was the first time in eight years I was traveling with anything else than just cabin luggage. I had had vision that this would be happening on departure and had taken my laptop and digital camera into the cabin so this wasn't a catastrophe.

Toni from Ungana-Afrika was waiting for me at the airport and drove me to their home office commune near Pretoria. The group is living in a guarded and walled neighborhood in large stone building on a top of hill, surrounded by some woods with antelopes and a nice swimming pool. We ensured that I could connect my laptop to their network and went to shop some lighter clothes for me so I wouldn't boil in my Finnish winter attire.

Although filled with very unsafe looking minibuses, the traffic in South Africa seems quite civilized when compared to some east european countries or the US. Traffic light areas were filled with street vendors and windshield washers. Apparently the number of carjackings and car thefts is very high in the country, and the local insurance agencies run very special forces like high tech car rescue operations, spotting the stolen vehicles using GPS locators and helicopters. Accordingly, car insurance in South Africa for a month costs the same as a year in Helsinki.

When we returned to the group house the two Pyrenees guard dogs of the house were waiting for us. As they had already met me, they seemed quite pacified. However, when Toni went to park his car and I stayed on the front yard, one of them decided I was an intruder and attacked me. With some of the old fencing reflexes I was able to avoid getting more than some scratches before Toni dragged the dog away. Apparently strange people are OK in the house only if they come from the inside.

Once inside we gathered the Ungana-Afrika staff and went to a Mongolian barbeque for the dinner. The barbeque was arranged so that you could collect your own plates from a large number of different meats, vegetables and spices, and have it barbequed. The food was very good, and everybody overate, so we returned to the group house to recover and check that everything was working before the next morning's training session.

The next day opened with final preparations, with training participants arriving around 10 am. The actual Content Management training went quite well, with everybody achieving the objectives for the day. There were two interruptions, first by a power outage and second time by a lightning hit to the house. However, as most participants had laptops and wireless cards we were able to form an ad-hoc network and continue working. In this day of high tech it was cool to see how easily forces of nature could still disrupt work.

For tonight the plan is to roast venison on the backyard of the group house, and enjoy some South African beers. It still remains to be seen if and when the luggage will actually arrive.