Impressive clouds

The weather gods are being good to Cape Town. Despite forecasts of little rain this winter, clouds have appeared from unusual directions, not at all our normal cold front format, and heavy rains have fallen in the nick of time. In the Eastern Cape, where disaster seemed inevitable, dams are filling and some have even overflowed from torrential rain over the last week or two.
At home we no longer have space to store any more water except underground, where it belongs, as the jojo tank (5000 litres), subsidiary tanks (1500 litres) and more than 400 5-litre bottles are full and overflowing. The question is asked, where is all the water going to go? and the answer is, into the ground as it always has before we had to start preventing it from escaping from the drainpipes! We have become somewhat paranoid about wasting water now, and it is going to take a bit of training to watch it flow unhindered through the garden. It is even becoming apparent that some of us are finding a wet day inconvenient!
The clouds today were towering, puffy and bright white, but from their heavy grey bases a torrent fell. It must have been a real dampener for the tour group doing a circuit of the Peninsula in old motor bike/side-car combos! I don't know if their bright blue weather gear was sufficient to keep them dry, but who knows, some people enjoy that kind of experience and in fact some parts of the world only know wet weather. It is, after all, only water and we don't melt!
The only concern regarding water storage is that the groundwater level  has not risen above what would be the minimum at the end of summer, and I can only conclude that this is because the well was totally dry in March, something we haven't seen here in 35 years.

A breath of fresh air

A hectic week of administrative work has left me worn out and needing to hike! Sounds odd, but hiking rejuvenates the body and soul and is excellent for calming the mind when stressed or overworked. The thought of a 3-hour hike up a steep ravine is enough to blank the mind and all that you can think of is putting one foot in front of the other - slowly does it. So today's little stroll to the lighthouse - which used to be my only exercise and was quite exhausting - was a jaunt that cleared the cobwebs and pleased the eye.

Not a swell disturbed the sea, not a breath of wind rustled the trees. A perfect almost Spring day (23 September). The fishing fleet from Hout Bay approached from the north, evenly spaced little boats heading out to catch anchovy. In these times of environmental awareness, it is horrifying to think of them trawling up millions of bait fish, but nothing is going to prevent it and so I chose to enjoy the picturesqueness of the scene rather than focus on the purpose. 

Kommetjie never disappoints when it comes to capturing a scene, and I must have hundreds of similar photos to these, but the sky and light are always different. 

I went looking for the small patch where ferraria crispa emerges in Spring, and was pleased to find that many are coming out, although still far from bloom. The white daisies, which always spread a carpet of magnificence around the lighthouse, were closed due to the lateness of the afternoon, but pink vygies were brightly evident. A few scarlet 'pypies' swayed atop their delicate stems, and the bright yellow daisies with tough foliage to withstand the biting sea air defied the lack of sun and made a great show. Such a privilege to live here.

Memories of my youth

I grew up on the slopes of Trappies Kop, the mountain behind our family home in Clovelly, overshadowed by the much more impressive Clovelly Mountain stretching from Kalk Bay to Noordhoek, and today's hike to the beacon was a first for me.
When I was a child, this mountainside was our playground, with weathered sandstone boulders feeding the fertile imagination of youth, turning them into boats, cars, castles and such. We were always up there - not so much in summer, because of snakes - but winter was perfect. Perhaps that is where my love of rocks and mountains and scenery was born - you cannot get much more natural beauty than up there on the Flat Piece - where our property ended at the fire break and a natural plateau about 30m wide inspired us to name it for what it was! I hadn't been up there for a good 40 years, so it was quite an emotional 'call back the past' for me, particularly now that Mom and Dad are no longer with us.
Before the big fires of recent years, Trappies Kop was heavily invaded by alien rooikrans, to the extent that it was impossible to access the mountain beyond the Flat Piece, and hence as children we never climbed up there. So it was a tremendous treat for me to plod up the familiar path up to the Saddle towards Kalk Bay - the route we had taken so often when going up to the Kalk Bay caves as teenagers - Boomslang (never again!), Devil's Pit (never!), Oriad's Hall, Amphitheatre - with the mountain streams tinkling nearby. This time we turned right and began a very arduous climb, with many breathing stops, to the beacon in the middle of the summit. And how very worthwhile that labouring was, with views forever, and Fish Hoek bay at a very low tide, revealing a vast expanse of beach, and deep blue and turquoise sea across False Bay, complete with whales!
A puffadder was spotted on the way down, sunning itself after coming out of its winter rest and doubtless dreaming of a mouse. The dogs ran to it, barking, and we would not have seen it otherwise. I was happy my dog was not there! It slithered under a bush and ignored us.
What a delightful morning on the mountain. A windless, sunny, late winter's day in Cape Town. 

I could have stayed up there all day.

Spring Star Party

The Spring Star Party was held this weekend at Leeuwenboschfontein, up on the plateau between Touws River and Montagu further down, at a height of nearly 1 000m above sea level. We were a little earlier than last year, and September has seen a good deal of snow, much of which fell in the nearby Matroosberg just before the event. I camped in a very insubstantial tent last time, and readers may remember that I wore four layers of clothing in my sleeping bag, with two blankets on top, but still froze at 2 degrees C. Sensibly, I booked a chalet this time and was impervious to the 0 and -2 that we experienced! Not only was it freezing cold, it was also wet, with unseasonal and unusual rain from the west and south-east, so pity the poor campers. However, feedback was that they still had a good time, so perhaps seasoned campers are made of sterner stuff. Or their sense of adventure knows no bounds.
Despite the weather, we enjoyed two nights of intermittently clear skies and saw celestial objects that were both awe-inspiring and interesting. The many very knowledgeable and in some cases, brilliant minds that attend these star parties expanded our insight of the known universe and left us curious to know more. A large display of homemade and 'rescued' telescopes showed us that bits of old washing machine and pot lids can produce the same results as the expensive commercial telescopes - good to know that there are so many inventive and innovative people around. A number of talks were given to ensure that we received mental as well as visual stimulation, and these were thoroughly enjoyed by all.
A domesticated lynx frequented the campsite, rubbing itself against our legs like a large cat, but always alert for danger and slightly jumpy. Apparently reared by a local farmer and causing havoc with chickens and some domestic cats - one can only hope it doesn't suffer the fate of many other
'problem' animals. It was very special to be in its presence.
As always, the last morning dawned still and clear, promising to be a stunning day, but work beckoned and it was time to hit the road back to Cape Town, once the layer of ice had thawed on the car! As I crested the last hill out of the valley, I was greeted by a breathtaking view of brilliant white, snow-capped mountains along the horizon, at a perfect level for appreciation, before descending the escarpment once again and watching the car temperature indicator rise from 1 degree to 17 by the time I exited the Huguenot Tunnel, returning to the bustle of city life after a most welcome four days literally away from it all.
Thanks to all concerned in the mammoth task of organisation and execution!

Snow, sun and a burst of heavy rain in one photo!

 

Doing the daisies

Good rains up the West Coast brought the dazzling mass displays of wild flowers for which the area is famed into early bloom, and so those vehicle-bound visitors to the West Coast National Park may have been disappointed on Tuesday. The sweeping fields of nodding blue, white, orange and yellow daisies were conspicuously green. But we were going to hike on the 15km trail, so would be able to access the wilder parts of the park where the flowers hide among the fynbos.

The wind was fresh and a cold front loomed across the sea, but we set off in intermittent sunshine across a stretch of colourful blooms. It wasn't long before we warmed up and started to shed the outer layers and the strenuous climb to the top of the ridge got our old hearts pumping! Many stops were made to enjoy the views across the aquamarine waters of Langebaan lagoon on the one side and the gigantic waves crashing against the seashore on the other, with billowing spray evidence of the approaching bad weather.

Once out of the lee and on top of the ridge overlooking Jutten Island and Saldanha, it was time to put the jackets back on, but the temperature was still warm enough for the flowers to remain open and delight our senses. The wind kept the birds sheltering in the bushes and only a small herd of springbok and a few of the brown zebra that I think are related to the kwagga were seen, unlike previous years when large herds of eland were grazing.

The terrain changed all the time, from exposed sandstone flats to granite boulders to sandy tracks, each with its own floral species, very noticeably so. We stopped for a coffee break and later a lunch break near the sea, but the length of the walk doesn't allow for much rest time and we were all pretty tired by the end after a 7-hour hike! The rain held off until we headed back to town, where terrible weather conditions combined with the usual log-jammed “rush hour” traffic saw us only getting back home near 8pm. A long day after a 6am start, but so worthwhile. A truly must-do hike, but rather make a 3-day event at a nice B&B to avoid the traffic chaos.

 

Out and about, rain pending

As the days grow longer and our water tanks are full from recent rains, life seems to be returning - everything is green, spirits are lifted by the sunshine and general greenery, dams are filling and birdlife in the garden is prolific. Three times last year's number of whales are visiting our southern seas, so things are looking good for them too.
Tomorrow we head off at the crack of dawn, in fact before, for the West Coast National Park to hike through the flowers. As luck would have it, rain is predicted later in the day, and as we are no longer allowed to wish for no rain, we are pinning our hopes on a late arrival! The traffic nightmare means leaving home at 6am to get there by 8.30, so wish me luck.
Later this week, I head out to Leeuwenboschfontein for the Spring Star Party - last year I camped in a flimsy tent and somehow had forgotten socks. The day before, snow had fallen on the mountains nearby and every night the temperature plummeted to 2 degrees. The partygoers came to see if I was alive every morning, and I was, despite shivering wide awake all night in every bit of clothing I could find. On the last night, the temperature rose to a balmy 8 degrees and I had to throw off  my blankets!
Again, rain is forecast. The days in between all outdoor events are perfect early spring sunny days, but as soon as we need to be outdoors, rain is on the menu. That's what we get for all that praying for rain - we should have been a little more specific!
Further revelations will follow after these events, which I am determined to enjoy no matter what the weather turns out to be!

Last year at Leeuwenboschfontein!!

Along the Liesbeeck in a black bag

The walk from Kirstenbosch along the Liesbeeck River, which meanders through the suburbs of Bishopscourt, Claremont and Newlands, past the Josephine Mill and onwards to the Black River would be delightful if it were not for the tarred streets, traffic and vagrants living under bridges and subways, with accompanying foul litter and by-products of human habitation. However, this blog is not the platform for such discourse, merely pointing out why it is no longer on my list of recommended hikes.
The upper reaches through the greenbelt and Upper Claremont are beautifully tended by employees of the residents, who have made carefully landscaped banks of clivias, tree ferns, acanthus and other shade-loving plants, with rustic wooden benches and tiny picnic areas in clearings next to the still pristine river. It remains a secret retreat, not a public recreation area, and it is hard to believe that just above the banks the world of traffic jams and rush hour frustrations exists.
Yesterday was another day of drizzle and then sunshine, rather like the winters of old, and we sheltered briefly in an arcade. I was without a jacket, having been determined that I would not get wet, and a woman from a nearby office insisted that I take a plastic rain cover like others were wearing. Of course, I could not refuse and had to put it on. The result was as per the photo. It's always good to make people laugh! Under the black bag I had a travel umbrella in a pocket in front and my backpack behind, and was informed that I looked like Quasimodo - couldn't resist a simulated sideways stumble which fortunately was not captured on camera!
The entire walk from Kirstenbosch to Josephine Mill and back is just shy of 9kms and there was no mistaking that we had walked the distance! A flat walk is so much harder than a mountain hike, I find.