Yesterday, my sisters and I took our young cousin, who now lives in the UK, on a drive round Chapman's Peak in some rather inclement weather. She is a newly qualified geologist and had some interesting stories to tell of her recent trip down some of South Africa's gold mines - fascinating stuff. I have always been interested in geology and pick up rocks wherever I go in the world, but somehow have never done the formal stuff. So it was great to be able to pick her brains, something I do whenever I come across a friendly geologist.
I now know which part of the landscape at the lighthouse is the wave-cut platform and where the tumbled rocks have come from. I know why there are seams of hard quartz running through the sandstone and why some boulders have pebbles in them. I finally understand how the beautiful layered striata of Chapman's Peak came about.
We parked the car in one of the lay-bys and actually crossed the road - normally we just drive around on our way to town or some other destination, and after all these years of travelling that road, I have now touched each layer and felt it crumble beneath my fingertips. No wonder the road was built on top of the granite layer and not this soft and disintegrating formation.
The wind was strong, blowing in from the north west, and the swells far down below were long and deep, smashing in a plume of white spray against the granite, as they have done for millenia. We took a walk down to the view site, for more buffeting from the wind, again something we would never contemplate on an ordinary day, but we were doing the tourist bit. We were well rewarded by the sight of a kestrel hovering nearby, unbothered by the wind as it hung motionless over its prey.
A group of young people climbed through the railing and clambered down the slope to a promontory, completely ignoring the sign that warned them not to. In the past, people have been blown off the mountain by the downforce of the wind, but they apparently knew better. We decided it was time to leave before disaster befell anyone.
The view is one we can never tire of, somehow.
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