Rural Transkei
Most of rural inland Transkei was low, rolling hills and plains, bisected by dry, coarse rills, streams and riverbeds. Open, unowned communal grasslands stretched out for miles. It was a larger-than-life part of the world, best not ventured into by the faint-hearted.
The vultures in Engcobo, for example, were the size of small aircraft, constantly scanning the landscape for signs of weakness and infirmity in man or beast. Falling asleep outdoors would not have been a good idea.
The most distinctive feature of the region was the scattered white huts or amakhaya huddled in small groups on the side of a slope, their triangular thatched roofs looking like oriental hats. I was never tired of the beauty.
Transkei was a beautiful part of the world, with enough lush forests and unspoilt golden beaches to occupy a cameraman for weeks. Steep cliffs, chiselled by waves traversing the Indian Ocean, contrasted with the snow-capped peaks of Lesotho, a country just across the Drakensberg.
Words and images by Treive Nicholas.