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Never shy of hard work, this little community became self sufficient with wheat and rye, nuts, peas, beans and vegetables. Their cattle and goats provided meat, milk and butter. Oranges, figs, apricots and grapes grew readily and wild honey was collected and made into beer and honeybush leaves made a fragrant tea. Life was sweet. Income Tax In HellFor more than 130 years the community had little contact with the outside world, except for trading excess produce with merchants in Prince Albert which involved a lengthy donkey trek. Lenie Marais became doctor and midwife using herbal remedies to cure most ills but in 1946 a man with lockjaw (tetanus) needed more help than she could offer. A Doctor was summoned from town but the treacherously steep footpath known as 'die leer' - 'the ladder' put him off coming again. The stock inspector was quite used to this path as he was obliged to visit every two months. However, in town he was heard to remark that 'getting there was hell' and this spawned the nick-name 'Die Hel' which the locals objected to most vehemently. When Mr Mostert, received a tax return addressed to him in 'The Hell', he promptly sent it back, angrily scrawling on the front, 'Do people in Hell pay income tax?' Before a road was constructed into the valley there was only a wide track on the valley floor linking the farms. A philanthropic or misguided donor gave a Gamkaskloof farmer a motor vehicle but as there was no road into Die Hel, it had to be carried down bit by bit. Its remains sit by the road as a reminder of older and stranger times. The Valley Emptied OutIt was not until 1962 that a road was forged into the valley. Sudden access to this once hidden enclave brought destruction to this community. Curious children left and did not return, and their parents gradually followed. The valley emptied out and in 1991 the last active farmer sold his land to Cape Nature Conservation. The old cottages remain and some have been renovated for visitors. There is still no electricity or heating and adornment is little more than it ever was - a crochet bedspread. Guests are offered no more or less than those who used to live here, and you soon realise that this is all you need. It is ironic that the bumpy road used by the community to leave this place, is now being worn smooth by townies coming back in search of the peace and solitude cherished by its earlier residents. This road now only leads to Heaven, not Hell. The author of this article is Carrie Hampton - she can be contacted on email: carrieh@iafrica.com | 
