A story behind our Image of the Week

Sir
On a lazy Sunday in September, we packed a basket with sandwiches and a coffee flask and decided to go to Chelmsford dam for the day.
At the entrance to the reserve, we saw a sign indicating the road to Normandien, and since everyone had heard of Normandien in their lives, but no-one I know had ever been there, we decided to explore the unknown.
Once we got through the settlement, we came to a T-junction.

Do we head back to civilisation, or turn right to Normandien Pass? Not knowing it existed – and always excited to explore the unknown – it was an easy decision.
Not often in my life had I been as surprised as that day. Looking far ahead into the distance, we speculated that the high, winding road traversing the mountain ahead, could not possibly be our intended route.
But as the narrow road climbed and winded, and we drove higher into the blue, it became apparent why the second highest mountain pass in KZN has had articles and essays dedicated to it.

After gradients and manoeuvres that we were totally unprepared for, we stood atop in silence, with only the whispers of the wind around us, sipping on coffee from tin cups, marvelling at the wonder we’ve just experienced.
However, being unprepared for this unexpected adventure, with no cellphone signal and Normandien Pass not to be found on my little cubby-hole map, we had no idea as to where we were, and how to proceed henceforward.
The only help was a sign reading “Normandien Pass, 1990m”, and this faded, forgotten sign which we photographed.

While I stood staring into the wide expanse, my father tried to make out what someone once thought important enough to have printed on a sign on top of Normandien Pass.

Maybe, just maybe, it once said: “Hic Sunt Dracones” (Here be Dragons).
Ria Erasmus