Small Towns, Big Hikes & Unexpected Rhinos: My Mpumalanga Trilogy

So, in what can only be described as a tragic burst of over achievement, I had somehow managed to plan three alternate weekends away — all in the same general neck of the woods: Mpumalanga. My new home away from home. My spiritual GPS has clearly been hijacked and now defaults to either Machadodorp or Carolina.

I’ve stopped resisting. Resistance is futile. And honestly, what even is free will at this point?

I virtually travel every weekend from Johannesburg to the North West. But that is different. This? This is a full-blown overnight commitment. This is car snacks, shared ablutions, and, if you’re not lucky enough to sleep alone, someone snoring like an angle grinder two feet from your skull.

But I’ll say this — Machadodorp and Carolina have just enough chaotic charm to keep me coming back. Three hikes. Three weekends. Three very different personalities.

We’ve got Wathaba in Machadodorp, and Kranskloof and Doornkop over in Carolina. And while Wathaba has never quite left my heart — or my mind, honestly — this latest one at Doornkop? was... not half bad.

Would I have known these places existed three months ago? Not a chance. But are we surprised I’m now basically a part-time resident? No. No, we are not.

Oh, and there’s a fourth weekend away coming up. But I’m not even going to talk about it.(Not because I’m ashamed. But because at this point, even I think I need an intervention.)

Now, no, I’m not going to launch into some trail-by-trail analysis. I simply cannot, in good conscience, repeat myself again. If you’re desperately craving the granola-crunching, blister-popping details of each hike, feel free to click on the below links. This is not that post.

https://hikinghag.wixsite.com/the-hiking-hag-1/post/machadodorp-day-2-dear-wathaba-i-think-i-love-you

https://hikinghag.wixsite.com/the-hiking-hag-1/post/machadodorp-day-3-wathaba-should-we-trail-or-should-we-go

https://hikinghag.wixsite.com/the-hiking-hag-1/post/kranskloof-weekend-officially-off-the-grid-carolina-edition

https://hikinghag.wixsite.com/the-hiking-hag-1/post/doornkop-fish-and-wildlife-reserve-weekend-three-hikes-one-hag-zero-regrets

What I am going to talk about is the delicious in-between—the weird and wonderful pit stops that have started to feel oddly familiar.

These stops have become part of the ritual. Part of the charm. A bizarre breadcrumb trail leading to yet another weekend of sore joints, communal snoring, and questioning all your life choices in the best way possible.

Trip 1: The Hog Pub & Grill — “Stop vir ’n Dop”

On our first trip, my hiking buddy for the weekend and I passed a sign that read: "Stop vir ’n Dop" as we entered Machadadorp. And naturally, we did what any responsible adults would do — we followed the cryptic roadside summons straight into the unknown.

Because honestly, who doesn't take life advice from a vaguely suggestive sign nailed to a fence post?

That’s how we stumbled upon The Hog Pub & Grill — a little piece of tranquility camouflaged in plain sight. Cozy. Unpretentious. The kind of place where the beer is cold, the regulars have assigned seats, and the barman probably knows your blood type.

We didn’t eat there, but we did linger long enough to soak up that small-town energy — the kind that makes you want to trade in your Wi-Fi for a wood stove and start calling everyone “Oom” and “Tannie.”

It was everything I love: quirky, charming, and just a touch odd. The kind of place that feels like it’s seen some stories — and if those bar stools could talk, they’d probably spill more gossip than the entire town’s WhatsApp group.

Oh — and there’s also a charming, immaculately maintained little church.

The town, like many small towns, had its fair share of run-down and dingy corners, alongside bits that were quaint and charming. For me, the charming bits always win. ALWAYS.

But let’s be honest — even the scruffier side of these towns never feels as grim or soul-sucking as the so-called hub of our country… Johannesburg. Sorry, Joburg. But also… no.

You see, with small towns in South Africa, it’s not about the size — it’s about the energy, the charm, and the people. There’s a kind of magic in their simplicity, a quiet pulse that hums beneath the rust and the cracks. And somehow, it always steals my heart.

Trip 2: Milly’s N4

Visit number two, we fully embraced the Milly’s experience — both ways. For those who don't know, Milly's is a beloved stopover destination located just off the N4 highway near Machadodorp. It was Easter weekend the first time, and the queues? Home Affairs-level. Soul-draining. And I don’t queue unless it’s for my passport or my actual survival. Lines are for the weak and the unprepared.

So this time around, my hiking bud and I met part of the group at Milly’s. And once you’ve elbowed your way past the boerie-fueled masses, it’s actually a solid stop. We all grabbed breakfast—mostly trout, of course, because Milly’s is kind of legendary for it.

Great dam views. Loads of benches for casual loitering. A kids' playground to release the small feral creatures. Clean bathrooms and the adjacent farm stall is stocked with homemade goods, fresh produce, and local delicacies, making it a perfect spot to pick up gifts or snacks for your journey. 

Also? Mugg & Bean. Say what you will, but it never lets me down. Sometimes, all you need is a reliable cappuccino and cream and the comforting illusion of civilization before hurtling back into the wilderness.

Trip 3: Alzu Petroport

Now, the third trip… oh, the third trip.

Thanks to the group of batty banshees I caught a lift with, we made a stop at Alzu Petroport in Middelburg.

Now, the driver mentioned something about “animals at Alzu.” But this is a man with the driest sense of humour known to humankind. So, did I believe him? Of course not.

Animals? Off the N4? Sure, Darryl. What’s next — elephants at Engen? Maybe a rhino serving lattes?

Well. I had to eat every single one of my doubting words. Because yes, you can actually see animals from the petrol station. It’s like if Kruger Park had a cousin who majored in tourism and minored in convenience retail.

And unlike Kruger — where you drive for hours hoping to spot something larger than a suicidal pheasant — Alzu actually delivers. Rhinos, zebras, antelope, ostriches…  All just hanging out by the waterhole like it’s a casual Sunday on the Savannah.

There are multiple restaurants, a very swanky convenience store, and some incredibly realistic animal sculptures that I initially assumed were the main event. They were not.

Needless to say, we stopped there again on the way back. I’m now a believer.

In conclusion: I don’t know what kind of cosmic deal I’ve inadvertently signed with Machadodorp and Carolina, but they’ve claimed me. And honestly? I’m not mad about it. Not really.