The old forts on Red Hill

One of my first hikes last winter was to the old forts above the Red Hill road, accessed from Da Gama Park, and it was Cleo's first hike as well. Then, the mountain was still recovering from a wildfire, and the landscape was bare except for the burnt remains of old protea bushes. Today there is quite an infestation of Port Jackson, which should be nipped in the bud, so to speak, before it takes over the natural fynbos again, but I doubt it will be actioned. But generally the new growth is proteas, and ericas, haemanthus and a multitude of sparse-leaved plants with lovely primrose yellow flowers stretch across the hills.
Cleo once again took her job seriously, clambering onto rocks and looking ahead for signs of danger, of which there were none except the ominous, heavy clouds foretelling the rain to come. The walk is easy and only 4km in total, but exceptional views await those who travel this path, and it is a constant source of mystery that the hills aren't alive with the sound of hikers. So much beauty so freely available should be taken advantage of by as many people as possible. Safety in numbers.
The rain fell from the sky as we reached the rocky outcrop where the forts perch, built by the British in the late 1700s, and apart from no roof, remarkably intact. Shelter was found under a rocky overhang looking over Simon's Town, and coffee and biscuits were greatly enjoyed, particularly by Cleo.
On the return journey, I remained convinced that we were on the wrong track, as I didn't recognise any of the landmarks along the way, and it was brought home to me that mountains should always be treated with respect. We sometimes concentrate so much on where we are putting our feet that we don't take enough notice of our surroundings. Fortunately I was proved wrong!