Tundavala is where the high plateau of Angola stops and drops 1,200 metres to the coastal plain. A paved road runs right to the rim, fifteen kilometres from Lubango, and there is no gate, no ticket and no shelter of any kind once you are up there. Nothing fences the edge either. The feature that gives the place its name is a split cutting back into the clifftop between two walls of stone. You can follow it out over broken ground until the rock simply ends. The updraught comes straight up the face, cold and loud enough to hear over the wind on the plateau. The last few metres are yours to judge.
From the lip the land opens, ridge stacking behind ridge into the haze. In the dry season the plain is not there at all in the early morning. Fog off the cold Atlantic pushes inland overnight and fills the lowland a thousand metres below the rim, so the far ranges stand out of a white floor until it burns off towards midday. The cliff faces west, which leaves it flat and shadowed at sunrise and lights it only in the last hour of the day. The rim empties late, the grassland behind it goes copper, and the wind off the drop turns genuinely cold within minutes of the sun going. The stone under your boots is about 1.79 billion years old, and the cliff in front of it is young, opened when Gondwana came apart and the South Atlantic moved in. Erosion has been driving the whole edge back from the coast ever since. One thing here is not free. The Angola Cave-chat nests in crevices in these cliffs, and it has been recorded at about eight sites on Earth. It works the rock faces and the broken ground below the rim rather than the open grassland, so finding it means scanning the ledges and waiting. It will not come to you.