Fresh air and sunshine on the menu!

Due to the ongoing monitoring of the Lion's Head fire from a few days ago, our walk along the pipe track above Camps Bay was cancelled in favour of the jeep track from Constantia Nek to Kirstenbosch and back - a generally flattish, easy walk along the contours of the Newlands mountains with sweeping views and ample shade. Of course, no hike would be complete without a detour from the main path and today was no exception. 

We took the right-hand fork by way of a change and descended a little way into the forest before taking a sudden left turn - we were going to have a little heart-rate increasing exercise by rejoining the upper contour via a straight uphill under the pine trees! Years of leaf-shedding meant that the thick carpet of pine needles gave no grip as we grappled our way upwards, looping arms around treetrunks for support and occasionally leaning against them to catch our breath. The slope rose ever steeply before us, the horizon blue sky, but we soldiered on and eventually reached the jeep track again, to find we had barely reached the turnoff to Eagles' Nest - a detour of a few hundred metres that burned off many calories!

The rest of our hike passed uneventfully and extremely pleasantly, with mothers and children taking time off to walk in nature, and dogs and bikes in abundance. 

We passed towering silver trees fighting for dominance over remnants from the pine plantation - signs of a healthy fynbos population - and two strongly flowing streams coming down from the mountain ravines, clear and unpolluted and fed by the life-giving reserves held in these natural sponges.

With more restrictions on social events, we can only hope that walking in the fresh air will remain an option as the world comes to terms with another major disease that threatens to change our lives in unknown ways.

Ever upwards!

Very tall silver trees

Abundant water

Eagles' Nest not nearly as intimidating as before

 

My Kalahari Adventure Part 4

As we headed north, we passed through the small town of Williston, where surprising places exist: a restaurant with décor, food and service to match any establishment in a large city, quite out of keeping with the streets devoid of cars and pavements where the locals pass the time hoping for chance employment. The years of drought have been unkind to the town and relief in the form of food supplies and water for both animals and people has become necessary. The other surprise was the Williston Mall, closed for some reason (hard to fathom when tourism can surely be the only source of income at present) and looking quaint and quirky from the outside. Not glassy and glossy like a city mall, but it shows enterprise, a sense of humour and perhaps a little desperation. It was a shame we couldn’t stroll through. However, time and distance are pressing matters when travelling in South Africa, and we didn’t linger to see if a face appeared at a window.

Our first night stop was at Brandvlei – named after a farmer, Brand, rather than a burning lake – and our accommodation was the original farmhouse. Having used up our battery power with enthusiasm on the way up from Beaufort West, we searched in vain for a plug to recharge cameras and phones, but of course this house was built before electricity reached such isolated parts of the country (if at all) and a solar panel on the roof was attached to a plug socket dangling in the kitchen which supplied hot water. Thankful for small mercies, we prepared ourselves to deal with intermittent access to such luxuries and became extremely efficient and organised, using multiplugs brought from home at every opportunity. While the great charm of distant places is the lack of contact with the outside world, it does take a little getting used to.

Old photographs of the original farmer and his wife adorned the walls, and an antique telephone (wall-mountable, handset and cords) reminded us again of our easy lives.

We braaied on the stoep, relaxing in the last heat of the day and watching the Karoo sunset reflected in the old concrete dam filled by the windpomp, doubling as a swimming pool for road-weary travellers – not us; we took the dust of the day off in the showers that had been added the rooms to meet the facility standards required for hired accommodation. No such luck for poor Madam Farmer way back when.

The stillness of the night descended upon us and the vast canopy of stars lit up the sky with a billion pinpricks of light. And so to bed.

Matjieskuil aka Hawksmoor House

Yesterday our wine-tasting group visited a little-known (but surely deserving to be on the map) wine farm out on the Joostenberg - one of the earliest farms laid out in the 17th century as evidenced by the original title deed on display, signed by Governor Simon van der Stel in 1692 - Matjieskuil/Hawksmoor House. It is a working farm supplemented by the facilities of guest house, winery and function venue. The very hospitable owners are hands on and give an innovative and entertaining wine-tasting experience of their offerings, which are very palatable and affordable. The history - old and new - is imparted as part of the experience and makes for a delightful day out, not an hour from Cape Town.
These outings are a wonderful way to find places one would never imagine existed, most be situated on little hillsides and in valleys in close proximity to the city and larger towns, but so unobtrusively as to be unnoticed as you fly by on a freeway or nearby arterial road. A few entail a bumpy ride down gravel roads, but nothing requiring a 4x4, and upon reaching these sudden oases in a landscape of dry vegetation and the oppressive heat of the Paarl winelands, the lush surroundings amply irrigated from underground water, one is transported backwards in time. White gables and Cape Dutch architecture, thatched roofs and duck ponds, spreading branches of old oaks and hectares of vines contribute as much to the attraction of the Cape wine routes as the pleasure of tasting the fruits of the labour. This farmhouse, dating back to 1712, retains much of its original character and charm, and the tasting and lunch took place at a long table in the centre, with the doors at front and back open to allow the faintest breeze. A view through the heat haze to Table Mountain reminded us where we were, and also that back in the day one would have been able to see the cannon fired from the slopes of Devil's Peak to advise of ships arriving in the bay for trade. That would be the signal for the farmer to load up his oxwagon and start the long trek to Table Bay - a few days back then!
A quick tour of the venue revealed a place to be put on the list for any special occasions. One of the secret places that should be found. (Wine tastings by appointment wines@hawksmoor.co.za)

Photo: Inga Van Steijn Page

Photo: Inga Van Steijn Page

Hikers in the mist, no gorillas

Ah, the fickleness of the Cape weather! From heatstroke hot over the last few weeks, to a sudden drop in temperature with accompanying low cloud over the mountains, brought on by a strong southeaster (our prevailing summer wind). Our destination this morning was Bertie's Balcony, high in the mountains of the Silvermine Nature Reserve - our first hill climb in a while - and a breeze and cloud cover was something to look forward to. After keeping a weather jacket in my boot for weeks, I had removed it on Sunday to wear in a sudden squall and so was unprepared for the misty conditions ahead - everyone else was sensibly dressed, but after years of never feeling the cold, I still have to get used to a nip in the air.
The jeep track to Silvermine waterfall is familiar territory, and in the back of our minds the thought of the long haul back up at the end of the walk was never far away, but as we peeled off onto the track up the mountainside, we had to concentrate on our footsteps and the climb ahead. Gorillas in the Mist was a theme that came to mind as we wound higher and higher into the hills, the mist getting closer and drops of lifegiving water hanging from the tips of the leaves along the way. At this time of year, not too many flowers are out, but we were treated to scarlet splashes of tritoniopsis, one single large cerise Erica bush, and a carpet of tiny pink ericas (each bloom no more than 2mm across), as well as my favourite serrurias and Erica urna viridis - showing a very healthy population up on the Silvermine plateau.
The headwind made vision difficult with my eyes watering to the point where I would have appreciated built-in wipers and it was a relief to reach the shelter of the cave-like overhang after what seemed like a fairly short hike - an illusion caused by our not being able to see the distance to be covered! Although we were unable to see any view whatsoever, this is a favourite hike and we knew what was out there. After a rest, I really began to feel the cold and was lucky to have the use of a spare jacket from a fellow hiker. A lesson well learned.
We returned to the cars, unsurprised to find that our hiking trail was the only place on the Peninsula under cloud cover and that everyone else was enjoying a summer day, albeit windy!

Daily antics

Baboons continue their daily raids in the neighbourhood. There seems to be an established pattern, as they move from place to place starting with the local restaurants and reaching us later in the day. You would think they would be completely full by 3pm, but the lure of the always open doors of the neighbours and plentiful supply of available food (currently enjoying a pocket of potatoes) is obviously going to teach them where to go for easy pickings and a full tummy before bedtime. 

Since our slightly traumatic experience with a large male a few weeks back, the troop appears to be satisfied that there will be no food to be found on my balcony, in my garden or compost heap, and the last of the granadillas have been harvested by them even though they were green.

I have sent out a vibrational message (as I do with other things in life) requesting that they stay away from my garden, and it has been interesting to watch them walk along the perimeter, darting into the neighbouring properties for snacks. It seems to have worked - this vibe - and they have passed through quietly a few times without incident. This doesn't mean we don't have to live like prisoners - all doors and windows are firmly shut at peak visiting hour, and the excessive heat of the last few weeks has made this pretty unbearable - but things are much calmer now. 

If the neighbour would apply some common sense, their visits would be much more infrequent, as these highly intelligent animals can also learn where food is not easily found. One lives in hope.

Humid hiking again!

Convenient cloud cover kept us cool as we took the Tokai trail from the stone church near Uitsig wine farm this morning. Fearsome forecasts of temperatures in the upper 30s had again brought sense to the fore and our somewhat more strenuous plan for Oudeschip was swopped for a flat walk through the pine forest. What a stroke of luck, as it turned out that the forecasts were all correct (apart from those Norwegians again) and by the time we returned to the cars at 11.30 the temperature had soared to 33 and climbing.
You may think that this is getting a bit late in summer for such extremes, and you would be right, but today's heat was caused by adiabatic warming of the air descending from inland, bringing thunderclouds and a few unexpected showers over a few gardens in Constantia and Tokai, I believe, but only 3 drops in Kommetjie. This increased the humidity level and so, despite plenty of shade and cloud, it felt a little like Durban and caused us to trundle along the bridle paths with slightly less enthusiasm than normal. I think it safe to say that there are those among us who are looking forward to winter!
Even so, a good time was had with convivial company and the usual repartee that reveals age groups so well, and at nearly 7km in total, including the usual climb through the barbed wire fence, it was felt that a beer had been well earned!

Upwards and onwards - Alphen and Diep River Trails

We are still suffering from late summer heat here in Cape Town, and so today we decided against a steep and shadeless trek up to Oppelskop in favour of the verdant Alphen and Diep River trails where there is always the shade of a towering tree or three. The new parking layout (not that new, but relatively) means we can even park in the shade outside the Alphen Hotel and not cook in our cars at the end of a walk.

The trail is ever so gentle to start with and the gradual ascent along well-worn and much treasured paths where dogs and horses alike are exercised makes it an almost effortless walk despite being around 10km and a little over 200m elevation. The stream on the Alphen trail has dried up, but the Diep River continues to flow clear and strong, and a big clean-up is underway, with the channels being cleared of clogging overgrowth and fresh reeds being planted along the watercourse. We can look forward to a revived trail free from invasive plants seeded by birds and suchlike and hopefully a more abundant water supply further downstream.

We reached Rhodes Drive (so called because it was the road Rhodes took every day from Groote Schuur to Constantia Nek, to enjoy the expansive views across the valleys on either side) at the top of Hohenort Avenue and proceed through the gum plantation with its magnificent, arrow straight trees reaching to the heavens, and on through the avenue of cork trees with their soft, convoluted and immensely attractive bark (thank goodness for plastic corks) to Southern Cross Drive. A refreshing break under the pine trees revived us enough to make our way down the Diep River trail - all downhill from there - and get back to the cars just before our legs caved in! It was, despite the shade, a windless and humid morning, but as always a delight to be out in such beautiful surroundings.