.
As the Karkloof Road lures me further into the conservancy area and I start to contemplate whether I’ve overshot it, I spot the sign for The Old Mushroom Farm. I allow my car to gently bounce down the farm road that leads to a collection of domed brick “tunnels” that have had a Cinderella-esque transformation from fungi to a foodie haven.
People are sprawled on picnic blankets on the lawn, a toddler is sitting outside a tunnel drawing on a pumpkin from one of the vegetable garden allotments, and a new arrival delightedly exclaims, “Hello Lily!” as she fusses over a young Dalmatian. There’s an assortment of soft toys strewn outside which I eventually deduce belong to the motley crew of dogs who ride shotgun with their owners at work or are holidaying with guests staying in the various accommodations. An easygoing sense of community pervades the fresh country air and, joyously, there is no concept of time. Life at The Old Mushroom Farm is more like hanging out at a commune.