Lesotho Motorcycle Travel Blog: The Kingdom in the Sky

Published: February 1, 2026

Little Lesotho — the Kingdom in the Sky — is country number two on our Africa adventure. We set out in search of the highest pass we can find. Turns out it’s tougher than we expected…

This travel blog recounts our motorcycle adventure through Namibia on our round the world journey. To read more stories from our travels check out Our Adventures

Motorcycle Travel Blog Lesotho

By Andy Davidson

Mad or Nomad: Round the World Motorcycle Traveller

Morning commute

Wrapped in a blanket and armed with a flip-flop for an ice scraper, I shuffle towards our motorcycles. Snow blanketed them overnight and the frozen film of ice on the seat takes a few whacks to crack. This could easily be a chilly start on my old M4 morning commute. But no – we’re in Lesotho. Who knew it snowed in Africa?

I scurry back inside, where Alissa’s tugging on two pairs of socks. We snub out the fire and gear up. Our little Honda CRFs roar into life immediately – pumping misty plumes into the bitter morning air. They’re battle hardened to any conditions now. We’re at high-altitude and below freezing, but they don’t care. Last year they were conquering 5,000-metre-high tracks through the Bolivian Altiplano. A dusting of African snow is nothing.

Motorcycle Travel Lesotho Mad or Nomad — It's a little nippy in the mornings.

Place of smoke

We putter through Semonkong town. By the time we’ve dipped into a few muddy puddles and dodged four donkeys we’ve already shaken off the shivers.

Balaclava-clad horsemen ride into town, trading their wares for grain at the market. Everyone is draped in blankets and women huddle around large cooking pots filled with morning stew. Steam billows into the air and little crackling fires heat the wooden shacks lining the muddy streets.

Semonkong, which means ‘place of smoke’ in Sesotho, feels like an ancient settlement cloaked in a mystical haze, veiled from the world.

We quietly slip out of the fog, leaving the town in our mirrors and kick it up a gear towards the mountains.

The Kingdom

We entered Lesotho a few days ago and in eight years on the road, it was our easiest border crossing. Smiles, a few jokes, an explanation that it’s actually pronounced “Le-sue-two”, a quick stamp and we’re welcomed into this tiny African enclave.

Lesotho lies in the Maloti section of the Drakensberg Mountain range and is known as “The Kingdom in the Sky”. It’s the only country in the world to sit entirely above 1,000 metres. Its lowest point (1,400m) is the highest minimum elevation of any country in the world.

And that’s why we came. Our hearts belong in the mountains, it’s our favourite riding and we’re excited to explore this peaked kingdom.

Start smooth

Lesotho’s sealed roads are surprisingly good – and almost empty. Long stretches of well-laid asphalt twirl through the country and you can ride the length of it on them without touching gravel if you want. They’re full of curves, beautiful views and mountain passes – any sports tourer would feel at home here.

We enjoy it while we can, flying around bends and stretching our CRFs’ legs. But, most of the time, we’re riding one-handed. The sheer amount of waving is relentless. Beaming children sprint to the roadside to wave and we always slow down to wave back. It’s easier to just keep it slow and ride with one hand – and it’s worth buying an arm support to prevent tennis elbow.

Highland life

Eventually, we leave the asphalt behind. We came for the mountains and the only way to get to the top is to go off-piste. At first the off-road tracks are easy, dotted with sheep and shy youngsters who run away scared as we approach. We stop often to say hello, share food and shake hands – especially with young children who spend their days alone tending flocks.

Villages appear out of nowhere, stone-walled homes with fireplaces built for the cold. Some are so remote, perched high and far from everything. Life looks hard, yet the smiles are constant. The higher we climb, the more the tracks demand of us and the people and homes start to disappear.

Riding high

We stay in a rondavel and huddle around a fire at night to study our map. We want to see how high we can get and spot a faint line linking two mountains – elevation 3,200m. That’s the one.

The CRFs start off strong on easy gravel tracks. We keep momentum as the trails begin climbing higher, passing the last few villages until locals wave us down, confused at the direction we’re heading.

We soon see why. It starts to get tricky; the front wheels have a hard time staying down as they bounce over big rocks on steep inclines. We keep our weight forward and the throttle steady. Then the unexpected happens – the sun comes out. It beats down hard and for the first time since entering Lesotho, we’re sweating. Shepherds roll up their blankets and strap them to their backs with their balaclavas stuffed in their back pockets.

The constant concentration and continuous climb have us dripping and stripping off layers – Alissa now back to a single pair of socks.

We splash through river crossings until we hit a deep one that looks dicey. Just as we take a deep breath, a shepherd holds his hand up in the air, then motions for us to watch his donkey as he slaps its behind so we can follow the shallowest route through.

What goes up

Alissa’s been quiet for the last hour. It slowly dawned on her that we’ve been climbing upwards all day… And that means we’ll soon be going back down. Her riding nemesis is loose downhills (and sand). The declines start off fine, but quickly steepen until we hit the big one. Alissa looks at it and her bike lays down instantly.

Sweating and exhausted, we face a rocky technical drop. It takes time to psych up: stay relaxed, keep your weight back, lean harder on the rear brake, and feather the front – careful not to boil it, you’ll need it for the next hundred drops.

The downhills eventually level out, but we’re not out of the mountains yet. We continue east, closing in on the next range until we reach three thousand metres and the sun vanishes.

We start climbing again, but this time it feels like we’re clambering up staircases into the sky. We finally reach the top floor and it’s covered in snow. The wind whips at our sweaty backs sending chills down our spines. We layer up and plonk down on the ground to take it all in. We made it… to the top of this incredible lonely kingdom in the sky and it takes our breath away.

Worlds

Lesotho doesn’t just feel like another country, it’s like another realm. One high up in the clouds that everyone below just… forgot about. It’s a tiny enclave surrounded by its huge neighbour, but it has its own powerful identity, wonderfully friendly people and out-of-this-world riding. Go, you’ll love it – just pack an extra pair of socks.