Up on the hill above the vineyards

A new hike for me today - Price Drive up to the silvertrees on the slopes of Vlakkenberg, overlooking the green and serene Constantia valley. We start earlier in summer to avoid the heat of the day, and last night we had a light drizzle and a southerly breeze with the odd cloud kept us cool most of the time. The trail doesn't appear to be used very often, as it is quite narrow in parts with encroaching bushes, and the occasional stripe of paint on a tree helped to keep us heading in the right direction. A large part of the walk is in the remains of a forest, with many huge, ancient oaks, and almost as many lying jumbled across the forest floor in various stages of decay, liberally decorated with fungi. We came across a most interesting specimen that I have certainly never seen, and this was identified later as the following: Octopus stinkhorn fungus, part of a large group of fungi called the Phallales. They smell absolutely disgusting and are covered in a dark slime on which flies love to feast. Luckily none of us sniffed the plants, but if we had known that they were disgusting, we may have just to experience it!

The sun got stronger as we left the shade of the trees, but the fynbos and young silvertrees, of which there are thankfully many, continued to protect us as we climbed steeply upwards. The raindrops clung to the vegetation, and looked particularly beautiful on the silky hairs of the silvertree, surely one of the most beloved of our indigenous trees. Another plant that dominated the trail was what seems to be a serruria, although I am not an expert in identification (nothing ever looks like the book), and many of them were dying, which is a cause for concern as the environmental conditions worsen steadily. 

From the highest point we had unparalleled views across the valley and Cape Flats to the far distant mountains, while below us the green, serried rows of vines creep ever higher as (apparently) the demand for Cape wines must be fulfilled. In a month or two the grapes will be harvested, the leaves will take on the gorgeous autumn hues, and then the slopes will be bare until next spring. 

A short, strenuous walk, to be repeated.