Oudeschip on a lovely cool day

It seems that rain always threatens when we do the hike from the Sandy Bay carpark at the foot of Little Lion's Head to the wreck at Oudeschip. Today we prepared to set off after a few early showers had passed and the outlook was good, and it really was only a passing thundercloud and a quick flash of lightning that caused us to don rainwear very briefly - I contemplated throwing away my hiking poles in case I became a lightning conductor but decided to risk it in anticipation of a whole new experience. The wind had not yet risen and it was truly the most pleasant weather for hiking.
The bottom track above the beach is rocky and narrow, with overhanging branches and some scrambling, and isn't everyone's cup of tea, and it was with some relief that we eventually reached the little peninsula overlooking the wreck that I can never remember the name of! A good few kilometres had been covered and a rest was welcome.
It was only after coffee that we found out that the route back was straight up the mountain to the jeep track waaaay up there. We craned our necks to see the track, but the slope was too steep and there was nothing for it but to put our heads down and place one foot in front of the other. Thank goodness for the pulling power of a pair of poles. Although I had to stop frequently to catch my breath, my legs didn't feel the climb at all, and I am constantly amazed by the progress I have made from absolute novice hiker to fit as a fiddle.
Hiking in this area is always approached with caution and as large a group as possible, although we have never had any incidents, but we passed three people at different times, walking their dogs unaccompanied, so it was encouraging to see that life does carry on. From a dizzy height on the track, we descended to the beach at Sandy Bay and made our way back to the cars along the seemingly endless trail through the bushes - I certainly wouldn't want to do that on a hot summer's day and was very grateful for the cool wind blowing. After 8km and plenty of uphill, I can still say it was a delightful walk and I'm happy to do it again.

Cloudscapes

Who could ever be bored while there are clouds in the sky? They are a constant source of beauty and wonder, ever changing shape as they scud across an otherwise blue sky. There is always sunshine and blue skies on the other side of a cloud. Clouds are sent to show us which way the wind is blowing, to bring rain to relieve a parched earth (sometimes too much) or just to give us shelter from a too hot sun. We have had the most unusual and incredible cloud formations over Cape Town of late, defying an amateur meteorologist's attempts to identify them! Best to just enjoy!

A fishy tale

I was given some fish today. While I am not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, unfortunately it did not come packed neatly in a carton with interleaving plastic to facilitate a quick toss in the batter and into the frying pan. No, what I received was more like a seafood sculpture. Three large whole fish had obviously been tossed straight into the freezer where they had wound themselves into a loving embrace which no man shall put asunder. These fish, tightly frozen together to form one big fish, cannot fit into my fridge because they are 3 feet long. I dare not leave it in the sink because I have visions of the cats chewing on it in the night. The only solution is to cut off the head and tail.

I place the frozen mass under the tap and run a gentle stream of water along the groove where they have fused together. Grasping a sharp knife in one hand and gripping a fish head with the other, I start sawing. After 10 minutes of concerted effort, success - the head is in the sink.  I chop off the tail at the other end and now have one tail-less fish and one headless fish stuck to a whole fish.  Still doesn't fit in the fridge. At last I am able to get the blade into a gap and separate the fish, take off the remaining heads and tails and put them in the fridge to thaw.  I mention that at this stage almost the entire kitchen is covered in scales and bits of sawn up fish and I have broken out in a light sweat. 

Tomorrow I will be able to descale, skin and fillet them and then, joy of joys, batter and fry them. You can only imagine what the kitchen will look like after that, with trails of batter running across the stove plates and bursts of oil popping out of the pan on contact with the moisture.  Of course, it will taste so delicious it will be worth the pain.  So thank you for your kind and generous gift, but please spare a thought for the poor fishwife next time you toss your catch so carelessly into the freezer. I'll pay you to clean it.

Never more appropriate!

Yesterday there was a question on a Facebook page - what film inspired you the most? - and it didn't take a moment for me to comment: "Shirley Valentine".

Watching her talk to the wall and being expected to make steak and chips on a Thursday struck a chord with me and I knew it was time to break out and be me.

Since I first saw this movie, I have regained my Self, done most of the things I want to do (still more to come!), followed my interests, discovered what my interests are, and learned that I can be anything I want to be. I may not have been to Greece yet (and strangely, I have no wish to go there), but the essence of the movie, the re-establishment of herself as a distinct personality with dreams to fulfil and adventures to follow, inspired me to not be satisfied with a life less lived.

If there is anything I wish for women who have so much potential but are never brave enough to break out of the rut,  it is that they watch this movie and realise that they can also be Shirley Valentine. I haven't entirely abandoned my responsibilities, although I do take off for Europe from time to time - and what it has taught me is that it has benefited everyone.

If you respect yourself as an individual and remain true to yourself, you are more likely to gain the respect of others and not be taken for granted. There is infinitely more that I still need to do, and any time I waver, I think of Shirley Valentine.

You can make it happen!

Plum Pudding Hill or bust

The strong southeaster that has been battering the Peninsula for a few days has subsided and so it was that today's walk from Rhodes Memorial to Plum Pudding Hill and then down to the blockhouse turned out to be much warmer than anticipated. Perspiration was profuse as we toiled ever upward before reaching the relatively friendly contours of the jeep track. However, loose rocks on the track spelled disaster for the unwary and a tumble or two were taken. Plasters were applied and gravel-stained pants dusted off, and we continued on towards the highest point of the walk, Plum Pudding Hill. There the southeaster was blowing a gale again and we didn't stay long to enjoy the view, rather preferring to head on down to the blockhouse for coffee and a snack!
There is very little flowering on the mountains at present and it was a good thing that there was nothing to distract my attention apart from a few mushrooms which begged a photograph, as the extremely steep track consisted of a surface entirely covered in loose gravel pebbles, rather like ball-bearings, and was extremely tricky to negotiate - I am prone to slipping easily and had two hiking poles which did help, along with taking sensible advice on how to walk down a slippery slope (put your feet down flat and take small steps). We were a very large group today and about 2/3 of them decided to stay in the shade of the huge gumtrees after the tricky descent, while a handful of us continued to the blockhouse.
The return route completed a circle and was slightly less arduous, but no cooler. However, as always, it was agreed that it was a most enjoyable and beneficial outing and that token whining was obligatory. We usually have pictures of the group in orderly lines, hiking the hills, or dotted like dassies on rocks eating a sandwich, but today's photos were somehow disorderly and a whole lot of fun!

Catching our breath at Cape Point

The Cape Doctor, our prevailing summer wind, is unseasonally battering the Peninsula this week, and contributing to the heavy rains across the country. We should be seeing the start of winter's cold fronts, but perhaps they will only arrive at the end of autumn to make sure we don't forget how to conserve our precious water supply.
Cape Point is the windiest place in Africa, we are told, with an average 35km/h sweeping its barren peaks and plateaus - as evidenced by the stance of the cedar trees at the Info Centre - horizontal! Today was strong, at 12m/second (I will leave it to the maths boffs to work that out in km/h) and heavy cloud hung overhead as we gathered at the entrance gate to the reserve. Down at Buffels Bay the sun was shining and we set off for Kanonkop along a slightly easier route than usual, winding round the contours of the ridges. We kept looking upwards and asking ourselves whether that ridge in the distance that seemed impossibly high and far away could be our destination, even though we have done this walk a number of times in fine weather. Perhaps the persistent battering of the wind in our faces gave us amnesia, but after plodding on for an hour and a half, barely getting to look left or right at the fynbos, we did reach the top of that impossibly high and far away ridge, complete with ancient cannon atop a rock.
We struggled to find shelter from the elements and huddled against the rocks to have our coffee break. It seemed that everyone was using up the remnants of Easter's indulgences, and pickled fish and hot cross buns were on the menu. I would imagine we are all bunned out now.
Kanonkop stands at 243m above sea level, and it is pretty much all downhill on the False Bay side, steep and rocky with quite a bit of clambering, and it took us a good hour for the descent. The wind was almost gale force on the sea side and there was quite a bit of leaning into the wind and against rocks to brace ourselves against it. The air was chilly and I even put on two jackets, although it didn't remotely match the wind chill recently experienced in Yorkshire. It was agreed that we hadn't walked in such unpleasant conditions before.
Having descended to the road, the steep 2km trek back up to the Info Centre where the cars were was not an attractive proposition, but there was nothing for it but to put one foot in front of the other and plod uphill. After a 7km walk over three and a half hours, we still agreed that it had been a good morning on the mountain!

A fishy feast

Quiet day at home, rustling up an impromptu lunch for my sister and brother-in-law. Always glad to have the opportunity to feed someone other than the immediate family; somehow makes it more fun to dig out the contents of the fridge. Being Easter, there was lots of fish (not for any reason except that it was the last weekend of the crayfishing season and people assume I want to clean fish over Easter), and so it was crayfish cocktail, flash-fried tuna with a balsamic cream and pickled yellowtail which I made yesterday that was sufficiently mature. A few salad leaves and plenty of avocados were all that we needed to accompany the simple seafood feast.
We won't see crayfish again until November, assuming that there is another recreational crayfishing season, and having eaten vast quantities in the 80s when we used to fish almost daily for our 'free from the sea' allocation, I didn't miss it at all during the 20 or so years we haven't had a small boat and bothered to go out for red gold. Today's crayfish were hauled in by my son, and his picture shows how idyllic the scenery was - glassy sea, early morning light with misty conditions rolling in. In days of yore, I would also be in the boat and many's the story I can tell of hair-raising experiences with He Who Can Fix Anything as captain. Among his many nicknames is McGyver, and experienced sailors will not travel the oceans without him on board. However, his appetite for risk on the sea does not always make the crew happy, although it does feed his sense of humour. Having said that, I also don't go to sea with someone else at the helm and so preferred to go hiking on Friday (always an excellent choice).
Years of experience in cleaning fish made short work of the yellowtail, but although not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, it would be wonderful one day to receive a cleaned, skinned and filleted fish from a friend!

Constantia greenbelts

Dawn broke amidst a breathtaking display of puffy pink clouds, heralding the cold front bringing rain later, but for the moment allowing us to revel in the beauty of an autumn sunrise in Cape Town. The variety of clouds changed constantly, and here in Kommetjie, right on the edge of the icy Atlantic, a fog soon rolled in to obscure the scene and send all the last-minute crayfishermen buzzing back to shore, nets full of red gold for a weekend feast before the closure of the recreational fishing season till November.
I set off for Constantia to hike through the green belts, and being Good Friday, there was no traffic at all. So much so, that I was able to stop off at Woolies to grab a snack for the hike, and even get a takeaway coffee at Red The Gallery nearby. A far cry from my usual adrenalin-filled drive to get to a hike on time in rush hour traffic!
It was surprisingly warm as we started off, due to the northeaster bringing heat down from the escarpment, and it was very pleasant to reach the tree cover of the Sillery trail. Many trees along the way were displaying their autumn colours, and every breeze sent leaves wafting down around us. We soon reached the muddy puddle that will fill up with winter rains and once again become the oldest dam in the Cape and little Kimba, one of the dogs accompanying us, dived in and immersed himself in mud, glorious mud, wallowing hippo-like before bounding out to rejoin a now nervous bunch of hikers hoping he wouldn't shake himself off! The mud stayed firmly in place and he and the other dogs careered up and down the trail, doing at least twice the distance of 8.5km that we covered.
Cyclists were everywhere, only one ringing a bell in warning, and the jury is still out as to who has right of way on this congested trail - I would think that, being mountain bikes, they can ride up the banks on either side. This is a world-wide bone of contention, and unlikely to be resolved.

As we crossed the hills of Constantia from green belt to road to green belt, the kilometres soon mounted and the many uphills doubtless will counteract the overindulgences likely to be experienced over this Easter weekend! A most enjoyable walk at any time of the year.

 

From Spring to Autumn

Cape Town is spoiling us today with just the most beautiful autumn day! After three weeks of spring in Europe, wearing two jackets every time I went outside and shedding them indoors, it's difficult to know what to wear here. I hear that it is around 18 degrees in Yorkshire today, which is double what I experienced, so I definitely missed out there and it would have been a treat to spend more time walking on the moors, but the wind chill was just too much for me and I felt permanently botoxed  after the briefest stroll!
While the Dales were a riot of colour with daffodils brightening nearly every patch of green, our autumn fynbos is more sedate, ushering our winter season in with gentle shades of pink and the vines are burnished bronze and gold before dropping their leaves to prepare themselves for next year's harvest.
Easter is traditionally the time when the season really turns and we start to get the first real rains of winter, but apart from a few showers this weekend, nothing is forecast for a while and I hope this is not an indicator of a dry winter. Although the water table rose slightly a few weeks ago, there has been little improvement and the JoJo tank didn't fill while I was away, being currently around 2/3 of capacity. The dratted mole threw out a few heaps of sand in my newly renovated garden, but our Malawian gardener worked his magic and all is pristine once again.
Tomorrow we are able to crayfish for the last few days (poaching of course continues unabated and unpoliced), and hopefully I will be able to share a photo of the feast. Failing which it will have to be roast lamb as is traditional - a bit sad to have seen all the lambs gambolling in the green fields of Yorkshire, unaware of their fate, but such is life.

A little bit of culture

Yesterday afternoon I headed out into the streets of The Hague in search of the Mauritshuis museum. Without familiar landmarks and not knowing which direction I was facing, Google maps was confusing, but after crossing the first canal and being undecided about the way to go, I looked up and saw a signpost for the museum. It was the opposite way to the one I would have taken, but sense prevailed and I followed the signs and in no time was outside the most impressive building housing the museum.
A special exhibition celebrating Rembrandt, Vermeer and other masters is currently on, and it was the prospect of viewing the Girl with a Pearl Earring that drew me there. This has to be my favourite painting (I did a copy a few years ago and it sold immediately), and it was such a privilege to see it close up, although behind a barrier not quite rivalling that of the Mona Lisa. I noted the important brushstrokes and hope to improve on my next version. They say you should copy 100 of the masters' works to become a proficient artist.
Blue skies overhead were replaced by dark grey clouds while I was indoors and, looking out over the canal, I could see that a sudden shower had wet the streets. I wandered around the old building in the area for a while (there were many guided tours going on around me), and had to stop to put on my rain jacket.  Hiking has equipped me with all the right weather outfits! But it wasn't raining. I looked at the gently falling flakes that didn't quite reach the ground, floating feather-like before my eyes. Snow? I later found out it was a very brief snowfall, but it certainly added to my list of new experiences for the day!
Out on another adventure now!

Keukenhof flower show

Spring in The Netherlands is synonymous with tulips, and having fortuitously found myself here in the right season, it made sense to head for Keukenhof to see the flower show. We parked on an enormous field and joined the enormous crowd of orderly and disciplined flower lovers. Everyone moved in a steady stream through the pathways of the gardens, keeping to the left as on the roads.
The colours and varieties of the tulips were way beyond expectations and the hyacinths with their heavy fragrance added another dimension to the displays. An entire pavilion was devoted to orchids and it was hard to believe they were real!
There were many different bulbs - narcissus, mascara, etc. - and it was definitely a sight not to be missed.
Although the sun was shining, it was a cool 6 degrees and even cooler in the breeze! Europe is not for sissies!