Venus Pool on a humid day

The walk along the coast from Buffels Bay to Venus Pool in Cape Point Nature Reserve ranks as a favourite for days when an easy hike is desired. A southeaster, cloud and temperature around 23 degrees forecast for Cape Town did not materialise - no wind until later in the morning, cloud cleared up mid-morning, high humidity - and it was a pretty perspiring party that trudged along the grass track etched by eland and bontebok on the False Bay side of the reserve. Without shade, we have to rely on the sea breeze to keep us cool, and with a barely perceptible drift of air that left only cat's paws on the sea to indicate movement, it was hard going at times. It's amazing what a difference wind makes to the quality of comfort, and the most arduous uphill hike can be undertaken without breaking a sweat in the right conditions.
It seemed that the animals were also feeling the heat and apart from two young male ostriches and a lone bontebok, the only other signs of life were three tortoises idling away in the lush grass that covers the slopes. The southeast wind brings plenty of moisture to this remotest part of the Peninsula, ensuring an ample supply of greenery for the animals, along with streams that seep down from the towering cliffs and gather in pools on the flat rocks that characterise the shoreline. An outcrop of black rock contrasts interestingly with the surrounding pale sandstone, another sign of ancient upheavals as the earth adjusts itself.
A couple of fisherman were angling from the rocks forming the seaward barrier at Venus Pool, but no sign was seen of any fish being caught, and I wondered if they would pop in at the local fish shop on the way home. The pool itself, probably around 3 feet deep in parts, had a good population of sea urchins, limpets and starfish, while some tiny silver fish and klipfish swam happily around, unaware that it would take a very high tide for them to return to the deep blue sea.
Some returned along the tar road higher up the slope, and the more adventurous rock-hoppers took the quite easy route along the rocks until they, too, had to clamber up through the long grass to the road. About 6.5km makes this a good bit of exercise in beautiful surroundings that restore balance to a busy life.

Bordjiesrif Tidal Pool

Venus Pool

Perfect to sit on!

Weather extremes

Throwback Thursday:  Six years ago, same weather! Not much changes, except no sign of the clouds today (2020):

After a meeting in town this morning, I wended my way to my favourite spot for restoring the soul - Kirstenbosch. There I had visions of lying on the lawn in the dappled shade of some ancient leafy tree with only the breeze providing a song on the wind. The first thing that went wrong was that there was no breeze - it was scorchingly hot with no respite from any direction. The next thing was the sound of a hammer and power tools - the footbridge over the little stream was receiving some attention from the maintenance team.

Not to be put off, I headed for the bench bearing a plaque in memory of my great-aunt and uncle where I planned to sit, only to find it occupied - that would be because it was in the shade! So it was off across the lawns to an isolated spot under the trees. Of course, the sprinkler system had just been turned off and the surrounding lawn and bench were wet. Still not put off, I flicked the pools of water off the bench and settled myself in to do a bit of reading.

Not five minutes into my book, a tractor roared to life behind a copse nearby, shot out onto the lawn with its mowing attachment and proceeded with lawn maintenance. I know it's a big garden and needs constant attention, but please could they put up a maintenance schedule at the gate so that we can see what to expect before paying to get in? It was even too hot to contemplate a cappuccino, so it was back in the car and off to the mall and some welcome airconditioning.

As I drove over Ou Kaapse Weg, with its panoramic view across the Peninsula, I could see an ominous bank of clouds moving up from the direction of Cape Point - a heavy fog coming in on the high level south east wind that was only blowing across the southern Peninsula. By the time I got home, the wind was gusting, but it was still too hot to walk. By late afternoon, the fog had moved in and it was time for my friend and I to take a brisk walk to the lighthouse. To the north, the sun shone brightly, but in Kommetjie it was gloomy and not very enticing, which was a great shame for the young couple from Denmark who were having their wedding photographs taken down at the rocks. How unfortunate that they chose the only place in Cape Town where the sun wasn't shining for the event. Hopefully they didn't notice.

The Leafy Hills of Constantia

Having recently explored a new hiking trail (for us, anyway!), and needing to slot an easy walk in between some fairly strenuous ones, we took to the Spaanschemat River Trail this morning in crisp, cool conditions. Something about the light and the scent of damp earth on a dewy morning turned my thoughts briefly to autumn, but this was soon dispelled as the light breeze became a zephyr and the January sunshine beat upon our backs. The tall trees that give this area of Cape Town the name of 'leafy suburbs' cast welcome shade as we followed the rather ill-smelling and damp path alongside the river (a mere succession of almost stagnant pools), but soon headed away from the M3 highway and turned towards the Constantia hills.
It was evident from the well-worn paths and wide track alongside the houses that this is a popular recreational trail, but apart from a few cyclists and a lone lady and her dog, it definitely didn't match the traffic of places such as the Alphen greenbelt or Newlands forest. Tall grasses in wild meadows, followed by vast sections of manicured field with views up to Constantiaberg, Vlakkenberg and Eagle's Nest made for a very pleasant but hot walk, until we crossed the very busy Spaanschemat River Rd and headed through the tarred streets of security-gated suburbia.
Our tea break was at the Kramat of Sayed Mahmud and we were a captive audience for the gentleman in charge of the gardens and tomb, as we had all sat down on a convenient shady wall. He gave a fairly lengthy history of the Kramat and various aspects of his faith and their culinary traditions - an affable fellow who was most welcoming. History lesson over, it was time to continue our journey to another place of great historical importance - Groot Constantia, the first wine farm established at the Cape. A stroll through the vineyards afforded more expansive views across the hills and a breeze blew up to cool our brows. After that it was all downhill, past the small cluster of restaurants and down the Sillery road back to Peddlars. Nearly 8km over hill and dale and a good bit of exercise for those not wanting to climb a mountain.

My Kalahari Adventure #1

(It has taken months to sort out the 6 000+ photos taken on this trip and now it is time to record my adventures!)


The forecast was for temperatures in the high 30s, but always a possibility of cold nights, so a mixed bag was packed for my great Kalahari adventure. This would be my first visit to the northernmost area of South Africa covered by the red sands of the Kalahari – the largest continuous stretch of sand dunes in the world – and I had chosen to combine it with a bird- and game-spotting safari to ensure that (a) I wouldn’t get lost or stuck in sand, and (b) would have companionship of knowledgeable people so that I would know what I was looking at. The dunes do not shift as in other deserts, but run in parallel lines roughly north-west to south-east, and the vegetation is regarded as savannah due to higher rainfall (relatively speaking) than a true desert. Years of prolonged drought have taken a heavy toll on the region and trees that have survived decades, even centuries, are dying despite roots reaching 60 metres to the hidden rivers deep below the parched sands. The once abundant plant life and the birds and animals that it sustained has diminished as Earth’s climate enters a phase of change, yet it remains one of the world’s wild places undeniably worth visiting to experience the reality of the struggle for life without that most precious of all nature’s gifts – water.
This was my second tour with Karoo Birding Safaris and I chose them again because of their vast knowledge of and love for this land, a lifetime's experience adventuring in the harshest of conditions and for Ralie being like another mother. Their unflappable good humour and ability to overcome any obstacle we encountered (fortunately very few, but their fireside stories were a delight!) made it a trip to treasure. I hope to pass on some of that knowledge, together with my impressions of this journey into the wild yonder, so that you will also want to set off on such an adventure and find yourself in that great silence.

A gentle stroll above the Atlantic Seaboard

The walk around the base of Lion's Head is one we do quite often, mainly because it is not too strenuous but still has its up and downs, and because it offers some of the best views of the Atlantic Seaboard. The forecast was for a cool breeze on that side due to a brief respite from the relentless near gale-force southeaster and a swing to the west, and it turned out to be true, even though the rest of Cape Town experienced a less than balmy 28+.
The signs of progressing summer were all there - dust-laden vegetation, parched leaves curling and turning brown, a carpet of fallen pine needles and gum leaves, and not a flower to be seen. Even the die-hard Port Jackson saplings were in distress and a carelessly lit fire would sweep rapidly through the tinder-dry grasses.
The path wound around Clifton and Sea Point just above the top level of houses, giving us ample opportunity to look down on the endless flat roofed glass and concrete boxes that only the very wealthy can aspire to - but we enjoyed the same views at no cost and under very pleasant circumstances without giving a thought to rates and taxes! A seasonal visitor from the north, a Steppe Buzzard, hovered just below us, taking advantage of the thermals to demonstrate his aerodynamic skills and we could only watch in awe at this very special moment. It's not often we can have an extended close up view of a raptor, particularly from above.
Further along, the human version of flying on the thermals was taking place in the form of paragliders running off Signal Hill and swooping rapidly down to the lawns on the Sea Point promenade. A poor second to a pair of wings, I'm sure, but flying nonetheless.
A little over 5km brought us back to the cars, after a most companionable hike to ease into the weekend.

Photo: Brian Moore

Photo: Brian Moore

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Photo: John Wright

Steppe buzzard. Photo: John Wright

No Cape Point for us!

It would have been foolhardy to attempt the walk along the narrow clifftop path to the Cape Point lighthouse in almost gale force wind, and the thought of leaning into it on the steep climb up to the old lighthouse made us wonder if there would be any point, and so good sense prevailed and our brave band of intrepid hikers headed down to Platboom for an easy beach stroll.
We took the shoreline track towards the Cape of Good Hope, a pleasant amble alongside stretches of flat rocks and sandy beaches, just high enough to avoid being sandblasted and low enough to be away from the bushy vegetation. We passed a flock of Pied Avocets, curved beaks pointed into the wind to make the most of their natural aerodynamics, but even so, the wind kept blowing them backwards across the sand and they had to scurry forward again to form a tighter group to withstand the onslaught. They are particularly pretty with their striking black and white markings being most evident with wings outstretched. They migrate from Europe to escape the harsh winter and return to breed when our winter sets in. To give an idea of their size and delicacy, a relatively stocky African Black Oystercatcher made a fine contrast against the flock.
The strong offshore wind attracted about 20 obviously seasoned windsurfers and a lone kiteboarder who streaked backwards and forwards over a considerable distance, far out to sea at unimaginable speed and only slightly slower shorewards. The word exhilarating was never more fitting to describe this sport and the levels of adrenalin must have been akin to bungee jumping! We sat for a very soul-soothing half hour on the rocks, watching the colourful sails - airborne over the waves on a rising tide - and perhaps envying their youth and strength just a little!
The sea was a translucent turquoise (the result of the prolonged offshore gale this week) and just magnificent to behold, with plumes of bright white surf splashing skyward against the rocks. There was no doubt that this alternative to a blustery battle above was infinitely better and there were no regrets!

Blowing a gale

(A few years back at the same time of year. Shows that every season's weather repeats itself!)

A gale just blew up out of nowhere. I was standing next to some pine boards propped against the house when suddenly they all fell on top of me. If I were elderly, I would have been squashed. This is how quickly the weather changes in Cape Town. Another pile of planks just blew over and a whirlwind of gravel dust has covered me from head to toe - I am chewing on grit as I write this.

We have been relatively spoilt by the windless days recently, with the southeaster backing to southerly and bringing very pleasant conditions. But the southeaster is back without warning, bashing the poor palm trees, and dragons are chasing each other over the crest of Chapman's Peak.

The wind is singing its own ghostly tune as it finds its way through the cracks around the exterior of the house, and the blinds have been sucked out through the windows - time to batten down the hatches for a while. The lid of the Weber has been snatched from its perch and clanged onto the brick paving, where it will echo as it rolls to and fro until I go downstairs to retrieve it.

The little birds must have their tiny claws in a vice-like grip around the twigs as they resist a buffeting by the gusts. I doubt whether they would have much control over their flight in these conditions. Even the seabirds are clinging to the rocks, beaks facing into the wind for least resistance. The sea has been whipped up from a glassy surface to frothy slashes of spray across the bay, the sunlight gleaming glass green through the rising face laced with foam from a spent swell.

It's wild out there!

In search of disa uniflora

The Cape Doctor is throwing everything he's got at Cape Town as he sweeps the smog and pollution from blanketing the fairest Cape in all the circumference of the globe, replacing it with a damp tablecloth of coolness to feed the thirsty fynbos.The lush but rather over-developed valley of Hout Bay receives the benefit of these summer clouds and the upper slopes of the mountains leading up to the Back Table still retain a little of the original indigenous forest to give an idea of what it must have been like here before 'progress' arrived and the wood was used for ships and other building projects. The once pristine streams feeding the Disa River have fallen victim to man's filthy habits and may never recover, but for those who are prepared to venture up the steep path next to Suikerbossie restaurant and make their way along the easy but rocky trail above the pine forest, it is still possible to go back to a place where the water drips steadily down a moss and fern covered rockface, where the beautiful disa uniflora may be found clinging to the upper reaches at this time of year.
Waterfall Ravine was our destination and seeking the disa our intention. The marvellous wind kept us cool as we negotiated the rocky track, with occasional gusts whipping hats from heads, giving us cause to pause and revel in the wonderful cloudscape across the sea towards Kommetjie. In places we had to scramble over granite boulders and a tumble of rocks from a long-forgotten landslide, and in others the soft sandiness put a spring in our steps and a second wind.
The ravine appeared to be dry and we wondered whether there would even be a waterfall, and after a rest on some well-placed rocks, with coffee and (believe it or not) a crayfish tail (mine), a few intrepid souls toiled up the steep bank in search of disas. There is an ancient pipeline and huge rusted valves from the days when this stream supplied water to the settlement, but now it consists only of a new looking aluminium pipeline secured by synthetic ropes (totally out of keeping with the environment) and is the reason for the stream not tumbling naturally to the valley. I have no idea if it ever reaches a destination.
The waterfall was indeed still there, but at absolute minimum - almost a haze of moisture drifting from high above - and the moss and ferns could very well be supporting a large population of disas, but we were probably a week or two too early and unable to identify the plants from leaves or even buds. Binoculars, zoom lenses and a great deal of botanical knowledge are prerequisites!
Undeterred, and still feeling rewarded for the effort of getting there, we returned to the rest of the group to regale them with tall tales of the number and beauty of the disas we saw. Of course, they didn't believe us for a moment.
The return trip is always quicker than the outward bound, and the descent through the pine trees always very peaceful and restoring. The final challenge was going down the steep track which has now been named Poop Alley, for the abundance of excrement left by the dogs exercised by dog walkers without poop scoops. But we made it, and will doubtless return for another attempt to say we actually did see the disas!

Incredible views from Noordhoek Peak

There can be few more rewarding hikes on the Cape Peninsula than the long toil up to Noordhoek Peak. With summer temperatures soaring, we anxiously scanned the various weather forecasts for a hint of wind or cloud to bring cooler conditions for today's hike and had as many variations as weather sites. So we gathered early this morning in the Silvermine car park to decide which way the wind was blowing, so to speak, and set off as originally planned along the jeep track with a small detour across a pleasant little ridge, re-joining the jeep track on the other side. To the right of us, the Amphitheatre trail loomed large, but good sense prevailed and we will leave that wonderful climb for a much cooler time of year, and we enjoyed up close views of the beautiful ericas, leucadendrons and watsonias that brighten the slopes in summer, being lucky enough to see a few Painted Ladies (gladiolus debilis) and a particularly magnificent specimen of the King Protea. They are by no means abundant, but it was good to note that there are many small plants hiding in the fynbos looking very healthy despite being too immature for blooms.
The slog up the jeep track required many water breaks to enjoy the unfolding views, and we were very aware of the need to drink lots of water to ensure a good morning on the mountain - dehydration is something you don't notice until it's too late - and the dogs were missing the streams that they normally wallow in on the way up. As we got higher, the wind picked up and the temperature stayed at a manageable level, with many of us sporting the neck cloths that are dampened and worn to stay cool (Christmas presents!). They certainly make a difference. The requisite jelly babies kept us going until suddenly the end was in sight and we crested the last rise.
Astounding views greeted us, and the pictures tell the story. Noordhoek Peak is a favourite hike for many despite being about 8km with an ascent totalling 330m. The incredible beauty of this place is an instant balm for the soul and the very reason why people make the journey in all weathers - it's worth it!
By the time we had neared the end of the descent to the car park, the usual summer cloud had cloaked the mountains from False Bay, up the Fish Hoek Valley and wisping overhead, ending a tremendous if tiring morning on the mountain on a cool note.

Cool comfort

The best place to be in this sweltering heat is an airconditioned car! I took the gap at lunchtime and headed into Cape Town from the Deep South - quite an adventure at this time of year - and was amazed that there was no traffic to speak of. Obviously everyone was at the beach and I wasn't on any of the coastal roads - clever move!
An entertaining dance between a Porsche and BMW amused me along the Blue Route. The usual assortment of cars hogged the 'fast' lane (is there such a thing in Cape Town?) and it was hard to make a decision, even in my Toyota, as to which side to choose to make good headway. A BMW in front of me wasn't quite up to scratch and as I was about to veer left, a shiny black Porsche shot by, hoping to squeeze into the gap in front of the BMW. However, things didn't quite work out and the Beemer, which was also one of the production run that left the factory without indicators, changed lanes inappropriately, leaving me in the fast lane and the fast cars in the slow lane. We eventually sorted ourselves out, and I could see that the slow lane was moving faster so stuck to it. By the time we got to the top of Wynberg Hill, the Beemer had changed lanes a number of times, the Porsche had got in front, and I was on the left. By the time we reached the top robots on Paradise Road, I was two cars in front of the Porsche and the Beemer had disappeared. So a Toyota still gets there in the end. (Don't misunderstand me - I used to drive a Beemer and loved it to bits, not yet got to the Porsche! I'm sure I would fit into the footprint quite neatly!)
The biggest danger on the road was a large truck that was doing 100 in the 80 zone in quite heavy traffic and tailgating everyone. Couldn't have had a tin of beans in the back, as I have never seen a truck go uphill so fast. He was also weaving in and out and seemed to be missing an indicator as well. He eventually peeled off at the N2 turnoff, just in time for us all to avoid a broken down construction truck half way up the hill in the middle lane! Incredibly, a traffic cop had put out warning cones and parked behind it - things often do work the way they are meant to - and no hold-ups ensued.
Traffic in town was barely noticeable as the January sales have hit the Waterfront and those car parks must have been jammed. I was on my way to sample some delectable delights at Yumcious! in the Cape Quarter.

Change of route

Yesterday I arrived at the Silvermine East gate in good time for our hike over to the Amphitheatre near Kalk Bay, and was met by a traffic jam of cars waiting outside. Although the gate is supposed to be opened at 8am, no SANparks official had yet arrived to unlock it. Much grumbling and mumbling about inefficiency and lack of service was wasted as none of those under discussion were there to hear, and we couldn't even contact them because this section of Ou Kaapse Weg is notorious for being the only part of the mountain pass without cellphone coverage. You don't want to break down along that stretch of road!
An earlier group of hikers waited an hour before giving up and going back down the valley for a much curtailed walk, while we decided to take the river trail on the other side, up to the Silvermine Dam. This was partly because of time constraints but mainly due to the increasing heat of the day, exacerbated by a late start. Sometimes a change of plan can work out for the best, and it certainly did, as we enjoyed a delightful ramble of just over 5kms through the little valley, accompanied by the babbling of the river at our side and many shady parts to keep the heat down. Our intended hike would have provided no shade whatsoever.
The gentle but steady uphill (meaning a gentle downhill) was just what was needed after Tuesday's quite strenuous climb, and a few lovely fynbos specimens and a dusky flycatcher looking down at us from the branches made for a perfect Friday morning.