Ignorance is not bliss

There is no excuse in these times of Google at your fingertips to be uninformed on any subject known to man. Misinformed and disinformed, maybe, but definitely not uninformed. There is a plethora of people who have information to be imparted and shared with the world at large, and it is easy and free to get it out there. The difficult part is to lead people to that information.

Those who seek information will eventually find it, but the majority of the world's population resides in a comfort zone of being told what to know, rather than going to the inconvenience of finding out for themselves. Mental apathy appears to be the new disease.

We should be constantly questioning what we are told, looking at both sides of every story, digging for the truth. Instead our youth follow the inane utterances and pathetically shallow lifestyles of so-called celebrities, and aspire to be like them. There are some celebrities who can be celebrated, it must be acknowledged, for being outspoken about meaningful issues and concern for the less fortunate, but there is no doubt that more people know who Kim Kardashian is than Mother Theresa (a comparison put out on Facebook, and aptly so).

Those who do question and reject the mainstream version, who are widely read and constantly seeking, have to bear the brunt of a society that has been led to believe that the version of history, ancient and current, and our origins are the unassailable truth, and are dismissed as being less than suitable to converse with, and just completely wrong. So many people who have so much to share hold back simply through fear of losing their jobs, their friends, their credibility and even their family, such is the ostracism of 'normal' society. And yet it is those 'normal' people who have the most to fear: the loss of their idea of what is real and what life is really all about. That must be why they are so adamant that they don't want to hear a single word against what they believe in.

The trouble is, perhaps it is just what the world needs.

Torrents in the ravines

Over the weekend, around 60mm of rain fell in the mountains at Kirstenbosch, so what better place to hike today than up to the waterfalls in Skeleton Gorge and Nursery Ravine? Having never been to either, and having always glanced askance at the signposts pointing relentlessly upwards on previous walks, I was amazed to find myself striding unconcernedly up the very well laid out path that led up from Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens towards the jeep track and eventual link to the contour path. How one's perspective changes after a year's hiking!
A fine mist soon bedraggled my appearance, but as is often pointed out, we are not there to look glamorous, and the synthetic mist jacket made for uncomfortable perspiration - it is difficult to decide whether to get wet from the inside or the outside. Nevertheless, the strenuous climb ensured enough body heat to make no difference and I eventually draped a small towel over my head to catch the moisture - some dreadfully unphotogenic photos resulted, and I won't inflict them on you! Lucky there are no mirrors up a mountain.
The low cloud meant no views, which would doubtless have been spectacular, but our attention was focused on the torrents of water tumbling down the ravines - perhaps the most we have had in some years and an absolute delight to the eyes and ears.
The walk along the contour path reminded me that it had been hewn from the cliff face and the sheer drop to the side was only camouflaged by thick vegetation - the sculptured lawns and landscaping of Kirstenbosch was very far below! The Nursery Stream was impassable and so we retraced our steps along the contour path and descended to the upper reaches of the gardens, meandering through the proteas, strelitzias and general greenery at a leisurely pace - a gem of a walk, about 6km and 500m elevation - great for the heart and soul!

Bertie's Balcony

One might be forgiven for thinking that winter in Cape Town consists of cloudless, windless, spectacular sunny days, as our hike today was again in such conditions. Rain seems to occur between hikes and for that we are truly thankful! The parking lot at Silvermine was crammed with cars and it looked as if the mountain would be overcrowded, but of course that couldn't be. Our very large group (two combined) set off at quite a pace down the jeep track towards Silvermine waterfall - forgetting that the return trip would be a long, gradual uphill slope at the end of a long, fairly strenuous climb up to Bertie's Balcony.
I've done this walk before, on a much hotter day, and it was a pleasure to have cooler temperatures as there is no shade along the 8km route. Early Spring has not arrived at this part of the Peninsula, and there was very little to see in the way of flowers, with just the many large mimetes displaying their striking red bracts before the appearance of the white flowers. Sugarbirds and redwing starlings were very active in the branches, and numerous LBJs flitted around, unidentified. A treat was to see a rock thrush perched high above the path, peering down at our straggling line as we eventually made it up to our destination, a shallow overhang with views across towards Table Mountain. Whoever Bertie was, I can understand that this might have been a favourite haunt.
The trip down was easier than up (not always the case!) and we detoured across the stream at the edge of the waterfall, enjoying the gushing of a crystal clear mountain river bringing life to its flood plain further down the Fish Hoek valley. Strangely, we only passed one runner - perhaps evidence that the area is still not considered all that desirable for small groups and singles. However, we put that from our minds and had the most wonderful walk in these stunning surroundings - free for all to enjoy, dogs too!

Elsie's Peak Traverse

Today we scrambled around the Elsie's Peak traverse from the Glencairn side. It was a short hike (2km) but felt like the equivalent of our normal 5-7km outings, and lasted nearly as long! We were in the shadow of the mountain, it being still winter, and so the long grasses brushing our legs left us damp but undaunted, and the three dogs accompanying us soon had clumped fur - I think they rather enjoyed it. This section of the traverse has not been used for some time, as the Fish Hoek side is preferred, but there is a section where a ladder is needed (it has disappeared after someone fell down) and a belly crawl - not favoured by our group! So a little bundu bashing through thick vegetation on a damp and slippery, rocky path made for a bit of a challenge. I slid sideways down the slope into the coleonomas after my boots (obviously not suitable for gripping rocks) gave way on a slant and much guffawing ensued as I disappeared like a tulip being pulled underground by a mole, with just my pink hat visible in the bushes. I wasn't the only victim, and many slips occurred. There will be a few bruised bums tomorrow.
Our destination was the shallow cave below the mast on Elsie's Peak, and there is no doubt that the scrambling was worth it. False Bay stretched before us, a smooth surface with even swells, little fishing boats, a kayak or two, and a whale that passed silently at the foot of the mountain, barely breaking the surface but clearly outlined in the clear blue water. Sunlight diamond-dappled the bay and we were happy to relax in the clean (apart from what must have been bat droppings) ledges of the cave, pretending we were the first inhabitants of this peninsular paradise.
The walk back was just as arduous, and punctuated by echoing reports of rifle and hand gunshots from the disused quarry just below us, which is now used as a shooting range. It was comforting to know that we were very high above the action! It was also fortunate that the dogs were unfazed by the loud noise.
As we reached the fork where the path continued up to the mast, a small mutiny took place and it was agreed that lunch was on the menu rather than another hour's hike! These things happen!

Can Spring be far off?

Yesterday was one of those days that lead you to believe that Spring is about to burst forth, and the late afternoon light and gentle southeaster turned thoughts towards warmer and longer days. Those dark mornings and early night-times do little for my enthusiasm to get on with the day or even extend it. The thought of an evening event in winter when darkness has fallen by 6pm is anathema to me. But things have changed! The sun's perceived journey back south can be clearly marked every evening as it sets behind a different part of the skyline. It seems to have suddenly gained momentum as if summer can't wait.
The clear skies have yielded unhindered views of the stars and the steady shift of the Milky Way can be tracked by observing the position of the more well-known constellations - Orion rising in the east in the early morning, Scorpius dipping head first into the sea on the western horizon around 4am and the Southern Cross lifting higher in the south, now visible over the roof.
Twilight brings an extended glow with the absence of cloud cover and the rich oranges and violets are a joy to behold. I couldn't exist without a vast open sky to look up to, gazing out into eternity - the very act of looking without identifying any object (an empty mind) is enough to restore the soul.
Mango and Biggles must be enjoying the warmer weather as they spend the sunset hour up on the roof, chasing each other boisterously (reminiscent of the baboon troop that so loved my roof) until exhausted, finally jumping down onto the balcony in search of a supper that they didn't have to hunt. They definitely have Spring fever! 

 

Sirkelsvlei, Cape Point Reserve

The plateau around Sirkelsvlei was devastated by fire a while back and has been closed to hikers while the veld renewed itself. It has now been opened again and we were indeed privileged to be able to traverse this area yesterday after a night of good showers, clearing as the day progressed into another gorgeous late winter's day of sunshine and cool breezes from the snow-capped peaks on the other side of the bay. Signs of spring flowers to come and renewed growth of fynbos that only thrives after the heat of a fire were all around - a field of yellow moraea like daffodils, striking foliage of mimetes, a handful of babiana on the lower slopes - a promise of a spectacular display within the next few weeks.
The climb up from the carpark at Olifantsbos is fairly steep but brief and once the plateau is reached, an extremely pleasant and easy walk to Sirkelsvlei takes about an hour and a half. The vlei itself is fed by a perennial spring and the photos show it at its lowest level. It is a true oasis in the surrounding low scrub and a lovely place to rest on the rocks that provide perfect perches! Rocky outcrops of sandstone have been weathered over the millennia into fascinating shapes that grip the imagination and are evidence of the relentless effects of the prevailing winds that batter the Peninsula. I love rocks!
We saw two species that occur only in that area - another of the wonders of the Cape Floral Kingdom - and a creeping pincushion and another as yet unidentified by me! So difficult to trace when no book has 9 800-odd colour plates!
At almost 9km and around 4.5 hours, this is a long but not strenuous walk for the moderately fit and highly recommended by me.

The beauty of the Helderberg Nature Reserve

I've never been into the Helderberg Nature Reserve before, and so today was an eye-opening experience, as we hiked through untouched fynbos - proteas, sugarbushes, pincushions, ericas - all above head height and coming into bloom in a full spectrum of colours from dark green to white to palest dusky pink and rich dark pink. Surrounded by soaring peaks and sheer cliffs, recently dusted with snow and still carrying its chill, we were serenaded by sugarbirds, prinias, robins and gorgeous orange-breasted sunbirds. It was a paradise. 
In the distance, False Bay lay quiet in windless conditions, green and blue patches as clouds drifted overhead and the occasional splash of white along the rocky shore below Clarens Drive, that most marvellous of scenic drives that winds along the eastern flank of the bay from Gordons Bay to Pringle Bay. Cape Point lay in the misty distance, with the familiar outline of the southern Peninsula mountains tracing the skyline back to Table Mountain.
Several trails crisscross the Reserve, allowing hiking for all levels of fitness with the same spectacular views, and allowing us an always appreciated break from the madding crowd. Although treacherously slippery in places, the paths are easy to negotiate in good hiking boots and with walking sticks to steady as you slide, and I would highly recommend this area for those seeking soul food.

  

Why we keep old cars

Once upon a time, I had a Golf. I had it for 10 years and then sold it as I had acquired another car, but this is the story of why I kept it for so long:

It had nothing that could go wrong. No electric windows, no onboard computer, no air-conditioning, no power steering, no airbags. Just a basic car. Very nippy but the drive is like a tin can on wheels. When you lifted the bonnet there was plenty of room to put your arm between the engine parts - a far cry from my old Beemer which was wall-to-wall engine.  However, the sound system was fantastic and made up for the lack of driving pleasure.
 One day as I idled in the rush hour (now there's a misnomer) traffic going up Wynberg Hill, I noticed steam coming out from the sides of the bonnet. Aaarrgghh!  A quick look at the temperature gauge showed nothing amiss, so I hung in there until I eventually reached the parking garage in Claremont. As I turned off the engine, it was as though I had flipped the release knob on a pressure cooker.  Steam blasted out from every available exit of the engine and a large puddle formed underneath the car.  I decide to leave it to cool and go off to work to ponder my next move.
  Later I eased over to the nearest garage (I thought it would be a good place to leave it) and parked under a cool tree before opening the bonnet.  A quick call to my husband (aka He Who Can Fix Anything) to summon him to the scene - in the meantime, I got a bottle of water from the garage shop (for me, not the car). While I waited, I stuck my head into the engine compartment to see what I could see and (I kid you not) immediately noticed a hole in the bottom of the engine block which looked as though a bolt or suchlike should be there.
 He Who Can Fix Anything duly arrived and I pointed out the apparent defect. "Oh, the welsh plug has corroded." What a team!  He sent me off to the nearest motor part dealer to buy a new plug. Living dangerously, I bought two. They cost R8!
 In a few taps of a hammer and a refill of the water, I was on the road again.  If I had taken it to a mechanic, I'm fairly sure I would now have a new cylinder head, water pump and radiator!

Pipe track ramble

Another sparkling winter's day on the mountain! A light southeaster brought the odd cloud to the southern Peninsula with showers, but we were walking along the pipe track above Camps Bay and only had a spit and a spot as we finished our walk. The clouds were cottonwool cumulus and snowy white, reflecting in the glassy sea below, where ships passed on the distant horizon and small fishing boats were visible as their wakes parted behind them. The deep shade of the Twelve Apostles kept us cool as we made our way along the easy gravel track from Kloofnek, with the odd ascent and descent as we passed through the ravines separating the buttresses. Strangely, there were no streams except in the first ravine, and the rocky river beds further on were dry - our rainfall is still way below the average for winter and drought lurks still. Further on the path becomes very rocky and you have to tread carefully to avoid a twisted ankle or worse, and old wash-aways have necessitated diversions that are narrow and slippery when wet.

The pipe track was built in 1887 to service the pipeline (still there, with newly installed valves and other equipment all along the track) bringing water from the Disa River on Table Mountain's Back Table through the mountain via the Woodhead tunnel to Slangolie Ravine (not for slouches!) and eventually Molteno Reservoir on the front slope in Oranjezicht. One can only marvel at the work done in those early years, without modern machinery, in this rocky terrain with sheer ravines.

It was a popular walk today, with a number of other hikers (more like runners!) overtaking us along the way, and not being seen again for the duration of our 3-hour walk, but they were about 50 years younger than us! We met a German man who was passing the time before his flight home - he thought a walk along the pipe track would be a fine idea before sitting on a plane a few hours later! Casual longs, a good shirt, normal shoes - dressed for travelling, not hiking, and no water or backpack - a sensible man who doesn't waste a moment, it seems.

The flowers are really starting to appear now, and in a few weeks we will be in for a treat at Spring shows off on the mountains of the Peninsula. In the meantime, we are enjoying warm winter walks under blue and white skies - a little bit of paradise!