Parys: The Free State’s Underrated Gem

My Weekend in Parys: Sorry, Harties… I’m Cheating on You

Firstly, Harties, block your ears.

Because - and I say this with love - while you’ve treated me well (mountains, hikes, weekends that felt like therapy), I’ve… found someone else.

Parys.

Don’t panic, it’s just a fling. Probably. (Maybe. We’ll see.)

If you’re new here — I’m that person who loves a small town… like unhealthy attachment levels of love.

I’ve always dreamed of ending up in one - you know, the kind where everyone knows your business and your Wi-Fi password, but somehow… it’s still okay.

Parys had been on my "must see" radar for years. I even planned a pit stop there for breakfast on last December's road trip, and the reactions were painfully predictable.

“Parys? Why?!”

“These small towns aren’t what they used to be!” They said, like I’d announced I was about to wrestle a pack of rabid wolves for my morning coffee.

But ever the person who sifts through propaganda (or people’s dramatic storytelling, I stopped there anyway.

And I knew then and there I’d go back for a proper visit.

Now, the small-town veterans warn us dreamers: “Just remember, healthcare isn’t at your fingertips, and Woolies might be a 45-minute drive away.”

Sure, sure. But between you and me — you’ll need way less medical care when you’re not living in a manic, angry, dirty hell-hole masquerading as a city.

And seriously, who needs Woolies when you have farm-fresh everything and a butcher who knows your dog’s favorite cut of meat?

So yes, I still dream.

And honestly? I’m this close to typing a small town into Google Maps and never looking back.

Parys: So Close to Johannesburg

When I told my friends I was off to Parys for a hiking weekend, their jaws dropped. “Wait, isn’t that in the Free State?” they asked — like I was crossing time zones and dodging border patrol for a 48-hour getaway.

“Yes, yes it is,” I replied, smugly.

Because now that the new me spends weekends traipsing across provinces in search of mountains to climb, Parys is basically next door.

It’s only 1.5 hours from Joburg, which is 30 minutes less than my regular jaunt to Rustenburg or Magaliesburg.

What To Do And Where To Stay In Parys

We stayed at Berakah 4x4 Adventures, just outside Parys.

I’d hiked their trail before (STUNNING), and had already bookmarked the accomodation for “future me.”

Simple, clean, and amazingly affordable.

So yes, leave your bougie at home. Berakah is rustic, relaxed, and gloriously unpretentious.

We tackled two Parys trails: Koedoselaagte and Thabela Thabeng.

Scenic? Check.

Challenging enough? Check.

Peaceful enough to make you consider selling your car  car and buying a goat

Oh, 100% check.

Why Parys Stole My Heart

People assume small towns are dangerous, dingy, and full of potholes and no water.

Hate to break it to you, but that’s literally our cities — just without the charm, personality, or a random stranger saying hello as you pass.

Parys? Oh, Parys is delightful chaos personified. Its main road is pure charm, lined with quirky little shops, friendly locals, and the occasional coffee shop spilling live music into the street.

The exact opposite of the soul-sucking concrete jungle we call “home.”

Well, that’s on a Sunday.

We drove through on the Saturday afternoon, and most things were closed. Why? Because priorities, that’s why.

Old-school, wholesome, “we have lives outside of retail hours” priorities. Honestly, I respect that.

Parys might just be one of South Africa’s most underrated small towns.

Oh, small town, come hither… paleeeeeeez. 

In the meantime, I’ve taken a gazillion photos - purely for emotional support when city life (with its healthcare, Checkers 60, and soul-sucking traffic) threatens to crush what’s left of my joy.