Memories of long ago

Spent an afternoon of nostalgia listening to songs of the 60s on YouTube - a wonderful resource for calling back the past. So many memories of days long gone, when the sun always shone and we had not a care in the world except whether the boy we fancied would fancy us. Some of them are still around and I often wonder if they ever shared the same thoughts! Songs that I haven't thought of for decades popped up and in no time I had a long playlist ready for future longings for yesterday.

One such song was These Eyes by The Guess Who. Wasn't it a relief when pop groups dropped The from their names? I was instantly transported back to 1969, to one of the most memorable and soul-searing holidays dear Dad took us on. We drove up to South West Africa (now Namibia) with two other families for a three week tour of the country including the Etosha Game Reserve. The roads were still gravel, although excellent, and we met up with a family from Windhoek who showed us everything their beloved country had to offer. The fact that the eldest son was a student at Stellenbosch and all us teenagers immediately transferred from our parents' cars to his Kombi for the entire trip greatly enhanced our enjoyment, I can tell you! It was a road trip of note. But I'm getting sidetracked. 

Back in the late 60s we had just entered the era of cassettes and portable cassette players that plugged into the cigarette lighter in a car. Dad made a place in between the front seats of our spacious and very comfortable Morris Oxford for the cassette player and made his very own playlist. I remember one was the Beatles, but the two songs that have remained burned in my memory in association with that trip are These Eyes and More Today Than Yesterday by Spiral Staircase.

Compiling my playlist yesterday, I was struck by the thought that, no matter what generation you belong to, somehow we all manage to carry our music with us, in whatever mode that technology allows.

Staring into a starry sky

It's been too hot for sleep, or even to be inside on nights such as these - summer in Cape Town on the nights after of a new moon. From my balcony in the relative darkness of the seaside village of Kommetjie, the seeing is excellent and the Milky Way arches overhead in a brilliant display of billions of stars arrayed in clusters, in strings like pearl necklaces and singly, like diamonds in the sky, with here and there a fuzzy spot denoting nebulae, massive, immeasurably expansive clouds of gas and dust where stars are born and die.

Without the familiar patterns formed by the stars as seen from our solar system, Man would have had no means of exploring this planet on which we exist. Adventurers might never have returned from distant lands without stars to guide them, unless an inerasible trail could have been left on the way. Small ships may never have set sail without stars to navigate by, for it was long ago discovered by Man that the canopy of stars at night provided a constant source of reference to establish where he was in relation to where he wanted to be.

Close by the familiar and possibly most well-known constellation of Orion, the Hunter, with his belt of three bright stars and sword represented by the breathtaking Great Nebula, lies Jupiter. A small telescope will reveal the positions of the four moons, Io, Callisto, Europa and Ganymede, which can be observed changing their positions during the course of a few hours viewing, something quite remarkable to see in a universe where the distances are unimaginable to our fairly feeble brains. One can only imagine the excitement felt by Galileo as he noted these movements through his primitive telescope hundreds of years ago, wondering how he was going to explain these marvels to a world not receptive to a new concept of existence.

Rather like trying to convince people today that the chances of our being the only form of intelligent life in this vast universe is nil.  

Humid hike in search of disa uniflora

Our hike today was a repeat of January's, when we trekked to the Myburgh Waterfall along the contour path from Suikerbossie in search of disa uniflora. On the previous walk, we only saw three in bud, and today we were hoping to not be too late. Cloud cover and patches of mist made for a sunless but nevertheless humid hike and perspiration proliferated. It was a day without wind and the sea from Hout Bay across to Kommetjie was mirror-like, with not a swell breaking against the granite boulders of Chapman's Peak or even on the beaches. A large school of dolphins was frolicking out to sea and I stopped a few times on the way over Chapman's Peak Drive to take photos and chat to others who had stopped. A cluster of ski boats and one very large one were motoring around the bay in a kind of oceanic ballet - not sure what they were doing, but perhaps it was a send-off for a departed friend.
As always, the initial climb up to the contour path left me puffing and panting, but once we levelled off it was easy going, although the tall vegetation makes it one of the less scenic hikes.
We reached the ravine at tea time, and only a few of us braved the steep scramble and occasional crawl up to the waterfall, which still had a trickle coming down the cliff face, although more in the form of a rain shower than a waterfall. And there they were! Little clumps of disas - much smaller than you would expect and too far away for a good photo as they cling to the upper reaches of wet cliffs - one of the idiosyncracies of our marvellous fynbos, to have very, very specific habitats.
We were also treated to a sight of another very beautiful flower, perhaps of the amaryllis family - I am still identifying.
It was a very worthwhile hike just to see these flowers in real life. Perhaps next time we will go in winter just to see the waterfall!

Predicting the future

THE POST BELOW WAS WRITTEN EXACTLY TWO YEARS AGO. 

I read today that the average humidity in Cape Town is 73% and Durban 77%. Silly me, I thought Cape Town wasn't humid, but somehow the excessive heat we are experiencing each summer and particularly this one is making life quite uncomfortable for those who don't enjoy humidity. An advert for turning air into water sparked enough interest for me to investigate what it was about, and it seems like a great idea in the current drought conditions, but nobody wants to publicise the price of the machine. This leads me to believe that it is beyond the reach of the common man. So I won't be getting one of those right now.
In the meantime, the dam levels are down to 44% with restrictions in place that will result in many suburban gardens losing their bloom, so to speak; for most homeowners, the garden is a source of joy and beauty, a place where they can engage their creative instincts, and certainly a place that can devour a large amount of cash to keep it looking its best. But without water, no amount of money can ensure the plants' survival. So only the wealthy will be able to have gardens as they can buy the water-from-air machines while the ordinary man will dig up the lawn and plant drought resistant vegetation to keep the sand down when the wind blows.
All of this is simply my version of a worst-case scenario if the weather patterns continue this way, but word has it in meteorological circles that we can expect floods next winter, and so none of this will be come to pass in the near future. But it's food for thought on future planning of our water usage. I predict a jump in sales of water tanks and drilling of boreholes. Alternatively, an awful lot of brick paving. 

THE FLOODS DIDN'T COME TO PASS, WE SURVIVED 12% WATER LEVEL IN THEEWATERSKLOOF AND MY LAWN HAS BEEN REPLACED BY DROUGHT RESISTANT PLANTS. I THINK NEARLY EVERYBODY HAS WATER TANKS NOW, WE CAN ALL LIVE WELL ON LESS THAN 100 LITRES OF WATER A DAY, AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, WE HAVE REGAINED OUR ABILITY TO THINK OUT OF THE BOX AND LIVE UP TO THAT FAMOUS SOUTH AFRICAN ADAGE: 'n boer maak 'n plan!

Alphen and Diep River Trails in the shade

Yesterday we walked the Alphen and Diep River Trails, taking advantage of the leafy shade of the forest to lessen the heat of high summer. There was a large turnout as people returned from holidays, Summer School and possibly because it didn't involve a steep mountain climb. These trails are very popular as they are dog friendly, generally safe, horses can be ridden there, the forest is just lovely and streams run through them. Paths criss-cross the streams and the sunny patches are few, so I could discard my hat most of the time and enjoy the gentle breeze.
The Alphen Trail winds gradually up from Constantia Main Road to Rhodes Drive and Cecilia Forest, where we followed the mountain bike track through an avenue of cork trees, their bark fascinatingly convoluted and very photogenic. A short stroll up into the forest took us to a pine clearing with a soft bed of pine needles. I took advantage of the cushioning to lie on my back and watch the birds in the branches above me and enjoy the play of sunlight on the branches high above. I tried to take photos of the birds but they were too fast and I would only have got their legs and bellies anyway.
We walked on as far as Southern Cross Drive and then cut across into the downhill Diep River Trail. The stream was flowing quite strongly and the dogs had a wonderful time running up and down in it, then climbing up the muddy banks to shake off on our legs! Not many birds or flowers were seen, but we were walking steadily so perhaps didn't stop to look often enough. The circular route is just over 9km and took around 3.5 hours, but there were no strenuous bits and it was really enjoyable. The nice thing was that you could leave the normal single file format of a hike and walk in groups, having a bit of a chat at times, which adds an extra dimension to hiking.
When I got back to the car, I found that I didn't have my glasses - I can see well enough without them to not really notice when I'm not wearing them - and of course I had left them under the pine trees in Cecilia Forest! I was really annoyed with myself, as I had to go back to fetch them. Fortunately, my fitbit recorded the entire hike and I was able to pinpoint the exact place where we had tea. Even better, I was able to drive up there and park only 50 metres away. I ran up through the forest, aware of being alone and of the absolute silence around me. It took a while to find them, but there they lay, in a patch of sunlight on a bed of pine needles. It occurred to me afterwards that it could very well have been the cause of a fire if the lenses had concentrated the sunlight too precisely. Imagine that!

Not a corpse. Enjoying the birds and sunlight in the branches.

 

 

Visa vibes

I went to the company that arranges UK visas today. Despite the fact that I can trace my ancestors directly back to the 11th Century in Cornwall, a graveyard near London is full of their remains and a drinking fountain in South London commemorates an ancestor who championed the cause of temperance way back in the old days, the authorities require me to apply to enter the UK, at great cost. The forms were difficult to fill in online and I had to use my travel agent to complete that - a good decision to let someone else take care of all the details for a change - and I was given an appointment at the visa agents within a few days.
I set off armed to the teeth with paperwork - passport, old passport, letter of invitation, marriage certificate (that caused a stir as I couldn't imagine where to find it - Home Affairs of course, but I still have my old ID book and there it was neatly printed), wedding photo just for a laugh, utility bill, husband's ID, copy of bank account to prove I had funds, ID book, travel insurance and plane ticket. I arrived half an hour early and there were only two other people, although five counters were available to assist. Instant service, friendly and efficient. Their software had just been updated and they no longer need to take all the paperwork, just scan it in and hand it back.
The young lady told me all they really need is a passport, plane ticket, letter of invitation (in my case) and evidence that you will return home after the holiday. I asked what that was and she said the marriage certificate, utility bill and bank statement which somehow proves that you intend to return to your husband (I'm travelling alone). Well, that caused a laugh and I said it was certainly no guarantee. Of course, at that very moment my phone rings and He Who Can Fix Anything asks the usual question, Where are you? I hiss into the phone: At the desk for the visa. He says: At the vet? I hiss again: The visa. Him: What? Me: The UK visa!
I could just imagine the clerk thinking, he doesn't even know she's going! Turns out he just wanted me to buy light bulbs. The curse of the cellphone.
I told the young lady that that was the very reason why there could be no guarantee of a marriage certificate indicating that you are coming back! At least we all had a good laugh.
Now I just have to wait to hear whether I am allowed to visit my favourite and only aunt and uncle as they celebrate their 60th wedding anniversary. There was only one other couple after me so perhaps it won't be three weeks. I still have to apply for the Schengen visa to allow me (half German ancestry) to set foot on European soil.

Pipe track in the heat and wind

Today we walked along the pipe track from Kloof Nek above Camps Bay on the path across the Twelve Apostles (not all twelve!). I was hoping that the towering cliffs of  Table Mountain would provide shade on a day forecast to be 33 degrees, and we were due to start at 8 to avoid the heat of midday. I left home at 6.30 to give myself a headstart on the horrendous traffic snarl-up that we have to endure on the way to Sun Valley every day, but even this was too late and it took forty minutes to get past the reason for the traffic jam (we all know who and what but I am not going to go into that in what is supposed to be an enjoyable read - but later in the afternoon there were three traffic cops at the various intersections and some semblance of civilisation prevailed). I got to my destination at 7.50, feeling fairly relaxed as I still had time to put on my hiking socks, ankle brace and hiking boots. I did wonder why no one else had arrived yet, but enjoyed the view from the carpark under the cable way for some time - of course I had the starting time wrong, it was 8.30!
The sun was already beating down on us at the start and the steep uphill to reach the pipe track didn't help, but once the path levelled out and we were in the shade, it was very pleasant despite no breeze at all. The rest of the Peninsula, and the sea down below, were being battered by a strong southeaster.
I always enjoy this hike, being a little up and down and not strenuous, but particularly for the fantastic views both above and below. I love the rugged rock faces of the mountains, and the stories that go with the engineering achievements of the old days when the dams on top of the mountain were built and water piped down to the dams on the lower slopes above the city. And I never get tired of looking over the sea, which constantly changes in colour and texture, with ships and small boats plying to and fro as they pass the Cape of Storms. Speaking of which, as soon as we rounded the corner to Blinkwater Ravine, the southeaster blasted us with a vengeance and we were kept cool for the rest of the hike (or at least until we returned to the spot where stillness returned).
The shade didn't last for long as the sun just seemed to climb higher and higher very quickly, and we stopped many times for essential water breaks - never wait until you are thirsty; by then it's too late.
Lots of other hikers were enjoying the track, and it was a splendid outing despite the stress of getting there, initial and final heatwave, and strong wind in between. The variety is what makes it all fun! 6km/13 000 steps