Nieu Bethesda had been hovering in my consciousness for a while when, on a road trip 15 years ago, we finally made it there.
We stayed in an old farmhouse just outside the village, which belonged to a sheep farmer who owned other properties in the area. It was a huge house with many bedrooms and we felt we could feel the spirits of the people who had lived there.
There was a brochure in the house showing us places to explore and eat.Many of the locals make a living by setting up little coffee shops or restaurants at their homes and you can eat the best Karoo lamb ever here.We decided to try Auntie Evelyn se Eetplek, where one could eat at little tables outside her humble abode or have her pack you a basket to take away.
 We had a fragrant and hearty Karoo lamb casserole with rice, potatoes, green beans, sweet pumpkin, a little side salad and a ginger sponge pudding with home-made custard - all for the price of R25.
She even had a visitors' book, which we noticed a few "celebrities" had signed.
The accommodation was equally ridiculously cheap.
As we were doing a road trip, we had to leave, but decided that we would definitely return to this little village.
We had both fallen in love and it was the first of many visits there over the following years.
THE OWL LADY AND THE LISTENER
The Owl House is the town's most famous tourist attraction. Seeing it is both a disturbing and fascinating experience. To me, it seemed Helen Martin was a clever and talented woman but a tragic and lonely figure too.
In the pantry, you can still see bottles filled with the crushed, coloured glass she used to decorate the walls and ceilings of her home.The lady of the house bustled into the dining room with this appetising dinner. She had no help that evening and was clearly a little stressed.
She asked my husband to carve that lovely roast. It seemed like a perfectly normal thing to do and was the first of many meals and teas we have enjoyed there.The next day, while walking down the dusty streets, we spotted a tall, slim, bearded man standing in the doorway of Egbert's Place.
He had a lovely, peaceful energy and we decide to go in. It is only a small place where he sells books, a few little gifts and also offers "light meals".Athol Fugard, the world-renowned playwright and author, grew up in the area.
He owned a home in the village, which he visited occasionally. Fortuitously, he was there once at the same time we were.
In cities we have high walls, but here there is only a garden gate where you can just lift the latch and stroll right in as everyone used to do years ago.
I suggested to my husband that we should go and meet the great man.
My husband demurred: "You can't just do that," he said. "Why not?" I asked.
We'd heard Fugard was a reclusive man, who was occasionally spotted taking long, solitary walks, so it did take some courage to go uninvited to try to make his acquaintance.
Nevertheless, we went.My husband cowered outside the gate, once again telling me we shouldn't be doing this. But I stepped through the gate and called "Hello" through the open door.Fugard himself emerged from the kitchen, a with a rope of boerewors in his hands a rather stern expression on his face.
He was cooking lunch and my courage was rapidly diminishing.
I told him I had come to meet him and shake his hand. I saw the piece of writing he was busy with on a type of easel in the lounge.
He allowed me to waffle on a bit and I said "Come and meet my husband."THE BEAUTY THAT MALGAS MADE AT THE OWL HOUSE
They say that behind every great feat is an unsung hero.
Sir Edmund Hilary would never have summitted Everest without Sherpa Tenzing Norgay, and Helen Martins would never have had her Owl House if it hadn't been for Koos Malgas.
Malgas was a labourer who essentially became her hands and, for the 12 years until her death, a co-creator in her art.
She would sketch her fantastical objects on bits of paper but it was Malgas who made them, filling her lonely garden with those scenes that today draw thousands of tourists every year.
Those same tourists will also find, across the dusty road from the house, a unique opportunity to take home a piece of "outsider art".
A small group of sculptors - every one of them claiming to be descended from and trained by Malgas, and who knows if it's true - peddle their own creations, inspired by the works of Martins and Malgas.
There are mermaids and owls and crosses and camels and other lovely cement-and-glass things.
And such is their enterprising spirit that, if you find yourself short of cash in this town with no ATM, no problem. The owners at Karoo Lamb, the restaurant just down the drag, will charge your credit card and give you the cash to load up your car with their wonderful dreams. - Elizabeth Sleith..