Hayward’s Rovos Combined Article
Written by Rob Fyshe

“A steam engine is like a moody woman. Today she is like this. Tomorrow like that. You get good coals today. Tomorrow you don’t.  Jy kan hulle nooit verstaan nie.” Gert van Vuuren’s face is tanned and furrowed with coal dust.  He has to he shout above the scrape of Arno Grundling’s shovelling and the clanking, hissing pistons. He grips the worn brass vacuum brake with a rough hand smudged with axel grease. His eyes slit against the swirling smoke and the spiralling embers.

The ancient Class 19D steam engine thunders on like a wild, snorting demon through a forgotten, nondescript siding near Pretoria. Today the coals are good and the sun is shining.  He yanks on the whistle. A piercing shrill drowns the clatter of metal. 

The post Second World War era 44-seater, twin-engine aeroplane drones in over Polekwane International from Livingstone in Zambia. Glinting propellers arc the yellowing sun as Geoff Kingsborough in the left seat banks left over the dun African bushveld. The engines thrum evenly as the plane banks again into the breeze at the end of the long runway. Geoff chops the throttles; the tricycle under-carriage bumps onto the runway and the refurbished old Convair howls gustily under full reverse thrust. The hatch flops open and a man with green, narrowed eyes and the demeanour and manner of an athlete dances down the steps. “Hey guys,” Rohan Vos yells bending under the nose to open the cargo hatch, “let’s give a hand with the luggage. The train’s waiting.”

Three hundred kilometres south the sun sinks into the folds of the Magaliesburg and dark, variegated shadows tag the ancient valleys. A man standing on the lip of a steep krans scans the rugged veld, relishing the solitude. Peter Hayward turns to survey the ‘canvas accommodation tents’ merging with tufted grass and dark outcropping rock. Paraffin lamps hyphenate an irregular avenue along the contour of the koppie. He turns again and flips the draped canvas entrance to a row of large ‘Gin’ tents pitched on the slope of the rolling hill. Silver cutlery and crystal goblets glint in the glimmering light of candelabras at each end of a long table of white, crisp linen.

“This country around us here was last safaried more than a 100 years ago,” says Peter, “what you see here is what the earlier pioneers saw then. Tomorrow we move on and you won’t find a trace of our existence.”

Peter Hayward; English gentleman from Johannesburg. Rohan Vos; Afrikaner gentleman from Cape Town. One owns vintage aeroplanes and steam trains. The other a luxury mobile safari outfit. The result of this combustion of opposites is a joint Rovos Rail/Haywood Safari adventure aimed at the corporate market. Go on a ‘bosberaad.’ Reward your top ‘boytjies.’ Re-discover Africa. Charter Rovos Rail to a wilderness destination and then experience the secluded thrill of an authentic Hayward Safari; improbable luxury. Gracious, imperial excess. These two gentlemen are bringing you something really different.

This is how in I dine in flickering candle light on white linen in an African wilderness. Then, stepping from one anachronism to another, I rock to the gentle ‘clickety-clack’ of an Edwardian train.  Breakfast is served in the old 1929 varnished teak dining car with an astonishing view of a cold, cascading waterfall.

The younger Hayward pitched tent-towns in the Namibian desert for international film crews and cantankerous film stars who desired air-conditioning, hot bubble baths, and seven course meals. Today, business has evolved. “Find any place in the wilds of Africa and we will set up our tents, hot showers, soft beds and candelabras and serve you a seven course meal. We can mobilise and cater for groups of 40 or more in 36 hours.”

 “We set up a safari camp in the St Lucia Estuary recently. We were the first ever permitted to do so,” Hayward explains between sips of dark coffee. “The day after we packed up, worried Parks Board officials came to inspect the site. They wanted to check if we had damaged the environment or left rubbish behind. They couldn’t even find our campsite. We had to show them where we had set up our tents. There wasn’t a trace. Sure, the grass was flattened but that was all.”

Vos is a ‘natural born’ entrepreneur. “The hell with it, I’m buying a train,” he told his alarmed bank manager. The decision sent shivers of fright through the poor man. But, as the lank and lean Vos explained to the jumpy bank official, “I have one life.” He wanted, he elaborated, to rediscover travel on the continent of Africa in the old, gracious way, on a train. And, that was that.

Shrill, squabbling ‘mossies’ nest and chatter in the date palms along the platform of Polekwane station at sunset. An electric generator in the utility van at the head of a string of green, varnished passenger coaches, drums quietly and sedately. This is Rovos Rail’s ‘Pride of Africa.’

A class 34 diesel-electric locomotive barks blue exhaust haze into the night sky. A ‘shunter’ swings his lamp to motion the driver over the last elbow length of moulded steel rail. With infinite gentleness, the behemoth backs up to hook the lead coach ... closer, closer, “nog, nog, nog, stadig… ” ‘Ka-chung!’ the heavy steel buffers nudge and embrace; absorbing the momentum of tons of steel. 

On this trip to Pretoria via Tzaneen and Hoedspruit, train buff Helmut Lange from Hanover, Germany, grins. “Our dream,” he explains with an absurdly boyish grin, “is to travel 15 of the world’s dream trains in 15 years. Rovos is number 11, the most luxurious so far.”

At 20h00 a fleeting, echoing blast. Murmuring diesels bellow black, coiled energy, and with a gentle roll of thunder ease the train into the night towards Groenbult. The sense of motion is imperceptible, just a tremor through the floorboards as the multiple bogeys roll out of the station. Steel flanges shriek and squeaking pig-iron brake shoes mingle with clinking, clanking buffers -- clickety clack…clickety clack. The driver blips the throttle; the symphony has begun.

The dark varnished mahogany in your luxury bathroom en-suite reflects the soft yellow glow of a reading lamp above the queen-sized bed. A moth floats in through the window you’ve opened to catch the scented breeze. You hear faint voices murmuring from the suite next door. You feel encapsulated by comfort and isolated from the maddening crowds. You smile as you fall asleep… clickety clack.

At Groenbult near mid-night the train rests for the night. A gentle night breeze murmurs through the vents and the slats of the sleeping train. The stillness is so profound you hear the grass rustling alongside the track, and a solitary cricket serenading the winking stars.

Piet Swanepoel is the new driver the next morning for the Tzaneen leg. The passengers still sleep as he blips the siren and eases off…. In dark and silent carpeted corridors hostesses, waiters and barmen -- Roberta, and Anzelle, and Annali and Hennie and Glen and Wiets are cleaning windows and buffing the dining car. Seth in the utility van drops a bundle of linen into the ‘Speed Queen.’ Caroline irons a crisp white table cloth. Ilsa, the chef and Sarah, her assistant crack eggs for scrambled eggs… tickety tack, tickety tack.

Marijke Lingsma on coach 4507, in the ‘Mzilikazi’ suite is from Holland. She and Marija Struiker-Boudier, her younger sister, are travelling through Africa. “We are looking for new memories,” she explains wistfully. The sisters are restless, caught in middle-age quandaries and conundrums.

George Christofides on the ‘Cullinan’ works in television. He’s travelling on ‘The Pride of Africa’ to rediscover his soul. “The TV industry sucks you dry,” he explains.

Yvonne Furrer and Alaine Lanz on the ‘Kudu’ live in a valley in Switzerland. She is on the train to learn about Africa. “Here it is like a zoo for us,” she laughs, “we have no dangerous animals in our country.”

Shirish Desai, his three civil engineering partners and their wives on  ‘Nellmapius’ are celebrating the ‘American Dream.’ “We all come from Gujarat, the same province in India. When we immigrated to the USA in 1960,” he recalls, “it was skimp and survive. Now we have a company and infrastructure so we can do things like this.”

At six the next morning the weather at Waterval-Onder has turned. The sky is clear. Rona Erasmus, the train manager, sighs. An excursion to the Cheetah Rescue Project near Klaserie the previous day went well (except for that little spat between the Germans and the Dutch). Ah, well, today we arrive home she reflects: the last day of a good trip. ‘The Pride of Africa’ rolls on, clickety clack.

Head into Uncharted Territory

To Rovos Rail across Africa into the awaiting arms of a grand safari mistress, Hayward's the 120 bed luxury safari camp, has to be one of the last great African safari experiences. For a group, convention or staff team-building excursion, you can charter Rovos Rail (from 42 to 72 people sharing). Then you can overnight, on board, en route to any one of Hayward's exclusive safari destinations. Hayward's offer exclusive safaris in the Kruger Park, Greater St Lucia Kwa Zulu; Tzaneen; Upington/Augrabies; Pilanesberg and as far a field as West Coast, Richtersveld, Namibia and Botswana. You can also experience 2-3 nights in the classic 19th century Hayward's Safari Camp (min. 40, max. 120 persons, sharing). Hayward's arrange all shuttles, activities, entertainment, conference and team-building programmes, and guided scientific interventions depending on region. You can return from your destination with Rovos Air -- a short 1h30 minute flight landing at the all-new Lanseria Airport. Rovos Rail also operate regular schedules to Cape Town, the Garden Route, Vic Falls and Durban (with Rovos Air links to other destinations). The trains and aircraft are available for private charter and undertake special annual and bi-annual extended trips -- the most famous of which is the 13-day run to Dar Es Salaam.