I was born in 1962, a blend of English invader and Boer pioneer. The Afrikaans, or my mother's side, goes back to a 17th Century Swedish freebooter who joined the Dutch East India Company and stopped in the Cape. After becoming Cape Governor and embezzling company gold, he was sent to a penal colony in Java. This is how we also have some Indonesian blood... What with some African adventures that followed later, I think I am a true South African.

The veld and wild places filled my childhood. My uncle's farm in southern Namaqualand was an eden filled with plants, birds, reptiles and scorpions, of which I had a huge collection, to my parents' dismay. I followed my uncle's labourers or their children on long walks, absorbing the vestiges of Khoisan (hottentot and bushman) traditions: edible roots and stems; how to hunt hares; how to call birds; and tracking. I had great friendships in that barefoot, dreamy time.

Growing older meant separation from people as well as desires. Apartheid did this. From then on I lived an urban existence, with urban aspirations. It all came back to me when I left school and was conscripted into the army, to fight a cruel war in Angola: Because southern Angola is the greatest wilderness on Earth, where war has kept out people and infrastructure. The place is empty of people. As my part in the war seemed to consist mainly of long silent hikes, I actually enjoyed it. Birds to die for. Sable Antelope staring back at you, unafraid.

It was only after becoming an architect, and practicing for a few years, that I realised I was on the wrong track. I bought this empty land in the Klein Karoo, and have been working to reinstate the full glory of nature. 

I also married Elisabeth. Together we work at it, and it is far from finished. Will it ever be? Liz is also an architect, and has been a bit surprised at my reinvention of myself. Since having our first baby she has started working free-lance again, but she is supportive of this enterprise and spends plenty of effort on it.  Her interests include wild flowers, as well as gardening. Walking through the veld with Liz always takes longer than I expect, as every plant is noticed and discussed.We love our food, and put effort into producing it. Whether venison from the wild, farmyard fare or fresh seafood fetched from a fishing village at the south coast, you can bet supper is a long, happy moment of the day."

Traditional sheep farming in the region has probably run its term. 200 years of grazing has impoverished the veld of its best plants. Not many farmers realise this, but with farms gradually becoming smaller, and with labour prices rising, stock farming has become unviable. All land not owned by governments or capital, must earn money. I see ecotourism as the only way forward for this marginal, economically inactive, yet environmentally wealthy wilderness.

Evan and Liz conduct the Homestay on a Farm in the Klein Karoo and Riding Arabian Horses in the Klein Karoo experiences.