My Kalahari Adventure #2

The Karoo has a magnetic beauty that pulls you back again and again – for me it is about the rocks and geology which show the upheavals the land went through when forming millions of years ago as part of the earliest landmass to emerge from the ocean. The road from Beaufort West leads us deep into dinosaur territory, where fossils of these ancient beasts are strewn across the landscape, identified by those who know when a rock is not a rock, and an excellent display of some examples can be found in the Karoo National Park just outside the town. The flat-topped buttresses so typical of the Karoo towered on either side as we ascended Ou Kloof and up onto the escarpment, stopping for breakfast by the currently dry riverside among the dolerite outcrops. These smooth and rounded boulders beg to be stroked, and their weathering over aeons has formed fascinating patterns to delight the eye. Our first bird sightings were made – I had no difficulty with the Verreaux’s Eagle perched majestically against the skyline before taking to the skies in search of early morning prey, but it soon became apparent that I was going to struggle with the Little Brown Jobs, as everyone trained binoculars and long lenses on targets I had no hope of seeing with my less than 20/20 vision (the left eye sees far and the right eye sees close, and both have varying degrees of astigmatism). I had to rely on movement to spot a bird, and so missed many an opportunity to tick off the list. However, birding was not my main motivation for the trip; a guided tour would be the only way I would ever get to explore the north-western areas of South Africa, and fulfil a longstanding desire to visit the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park. Karoo Birding Safaris hosted my dear departed Dad on a number of bird tours that he enjoyed so much later in life when he was unable to travel alone, and so it was without hesitation that I booked my seat on the adventure bus.

Venus Pool on a humid day

The walk along the coast from Buffels Bay to Venus Pool in Cape Point Nature Reserve ranks as a favourite for days when an easy hike is desired. A southeaster, cloud and temperature around 23 degrees forecast for Cape Town did not materialise - no wind until later in the morning, cloud cleared up mid-morning, high humidity - and it was a pretty perspiring party that trudged along the grass track etched by eland and bontebok on the False Bay side of the reserve. Without shade, we have to rely on the sea breeze to keep us cool, and with a barely perceptible drift of air that left only cat's paws on the sea to indicate movement, it was hard going at times. It's amazing what a difference wind makes to the quality of comfort, and the most arduous uphill hike can be undertaken without breaking a sweat in the right conditions.
It seemed that the animals were also feeling the heat and apart from two young male ostriches and a lone bontebok, the only other signs of life were three tortoises idling away in the lush grass that covers the slopes. The southeast wind brings plenty of moisture to this remotest part of the Peninsula, ensuring an ample supply of greenery for the animals, along with streams that seep down from the towering cliffs and gather in pools on the flat rocks that characterise the shoreline. An outcrop of black rock contrasts interestingly with the surrounding pale sandstone, another sign of ancient upheavals as the earth adjusts itself.
A couple of fisherman were angling from the rocks forming the seaward barrier at Venus Pool, but no sign was seen of any fish being caught, and I wondered if they would pop in at the local fish shop on the way home. The pool itself, probably around 3 feet deep in parts, had a good population of sea urchins, limpets and starfish, while some tiny silver fish and klipfish swam happily around, unaware that it would take a very high tide for them to return to the deep blue sea.
Some returned along the tar road higher up the slope, and the more adventurous rock-hoppers took the quite easy route along the rocks until they, too, had to clamber up through the long grass to the road. About 6.5km makes this a good bit of exercise in beautiful surroundings that restore balance to a busy life.

Bordjiesrif Tidal Pool

Venus Pool

Perfect to sit on!

Weather extremes

Throwback Thursday:  Six years ago, same weather! Not much changes, except no sign of the clouds today (2020):

After a meeting in town this morning, I wended my way to my favourite spot for restoring the soul - Kirstenbosch. There I had visions of lying on the lawn in the dappled shade of some ancient leafy tree with only the breeze providing a song on the wind. The first thing that went wrong was that there was no breeze - it was scorchingly hot with no respite from any direction. The next thing was the sound of a hammer and power tools - the footbridge over the little stream was receiving some attention from the maintenance team.

Not to be put off, I headed for the bench bearing a plaque in memory of my great-aunt and uncle where I planned to sit, only to find it occupied - that would be because it was in the shade! So it was off across the lawns to an isolated spot under the trees. Of course, the sprinkler system had just been turned off and the surrounding lawn and bench were wet. Still not put off, I flicked the pools of water off the bench and settled myself in to do a bit of reading.

Not five minutes into my book, a tractor roared to life behind a copse nearby, shot out onto the lawn with its mowing attachment and proceeded with lawn maintenance. I know it's a big garden and needs constant attention, but please could they put up a maintenance schedule at the gate so that we can see what to expect before paying to get in? It was even too hot to contemplate a cappuccino, so it was back in the car and off to the mall and some welcome airconditioning.

As I drove over Ou Kaapse Weg, with its panoramic view across the Peninsula, I could see an ominous bank of clouds moving up from the direction of Cape Point - a heavy fog coming in on the high level south east wind that was only blowing across the southern Peninsula. By the time I got home, the wind was gusting, but it was still too hot to walk. By late afternoon, the fog had moved in and it was time for my friend and I to take a brisk walk to the lighthouse. To the north, the sun shone brightly, but in Kommetjie it was gloomy and not very enticing, which was a great shame for the young couple from Denmark who were having their wedding photographs taken down at the rocks. How unfortunate that they chose the only place in Cape Town where the sun wasn't shining for the event. Hopefully they didn't notice.

The Leafy Hills of Constantia

Having recently explored a new hiking trail (for us, anyway!), and needing to slot an easy walk in between some fairly strenuous ones, we took to the Spaanschemat River Trail this morning in crisp, cool conditions. Something about the light and the scent of damp earth on a dewy morning turned my thoughts briefly to autumn, but this was soon dispelled as the light breeze became a zephyr and the January sunshine beat upon our backs. The tall trees that give this area of Cape Town the name of 'leafy suburbs' cast welcome shade as we followed the rather ill-smelling and damp path alongside the river (a mere succession of almost stagnant pools), but soon headed away from the M3 highway and turned towards the Constantia hills.
It was evident from the well-worn paths and wide track alongside the houses that this is a popular recreational trail, but apart from a few cyclists and a lone lady and her dog, it definitely didn't match the traffic of places such as the Alphen greenbelt or Newlands forest. Tall grasses in wild meadows, followed by vast sections of manicured field with views up to Constantiaberg, Vlakkenberg and Eagle's Nest made for a very pleasant but hot walk, until we crossed the very busy Spaanschemat River Rd and headed through the tarred streets of security-gated suburbia.
Our tea break was at the Kramat of Sayed Mahmud and we were a captive audience for the gentleman in charge of the gardens and tomb, as we had all sat down on a convenient shady wall. He gave a fairly lengthy history of the Kramat and various aspects of his faith and their culinary traditions - an affable fellow who was most welcoming. History lesson over, it was time to continue our journey to another place of great historical importance - Groot Constantia, the first wine farm established at the Cape. A stroll through the vineyards afforded more expansive views across the hills and a breeze blew up to cool our brows. After that it was all downhill, past the small cluster of restaurants and down the Sillery road back to Peddlars. Nearly 8km over hill and dale and a good bit of exercise for those not wanting to climb a mountain.

My Kalahari Adventure #1

(It has taken months to sort out the 6 000+ photos taken on this trip and now it is time to record my adventures!)


The forecast was for temperatures in the high 30s, but always a possibility of cold nights, so a mixed bag was packed for my great Kalahari adventure. This would be my first visit to the northernmost area of South Africa covered by the red sands of the Kalahari – the largest continuous stretch of sand dunes in the world – and I had chosen to combine it with a bird- and game-spotting safari to ensure that (a) I wouldn’t get lost or stuck in sand, and (b) would have companionship of knowledgeable people so that I would know what I was looking at. The dunes do not shift as in other deserts, but run in parallel lines roughly north-west to south-east, and the vegetation is regarded as savannah due to higher rainfall (relatively speaking) than a true desert. Years of prolonged drought have taken a heavy toll on the region and trees that have survived decades, even centuries, are dying despite roots reaching 60 metres to the hidden rivers deep below the parched sands. The once abundant plant life and the birds and animals that it sustained has diminished as Earth’s climate enters a phase of change, yet it remains one of the world’s wild places undeniably worth visiting to experience the reality of the struggle for life without that most precious of all nature’s gifts – water.
This was my second tour with Karoo Birding Safaris and I chose them again because of their vast knowledge of and love for this land, a lifetime's experience adventuring in the harshest of conditions and for Ralie being like another mother. Their unflappable good humour and ability to overcome any obstacle we encountered (fortunately very few, but their fireside stories were a delight!) made it a trip to treasure. I hope to pass on some of that knowledge, together with my impressions of this journey into the wild yonder, so that you will also want to set off on such an adventure and find yourself in that great silence.

A gentle stroll above the Atlantic Seaboard

The walk around the base of Lion's Head is one we do quite often, mainly because it is not too strenuous but still has its up and downs, and because it offers some of the best views of the Atlantic Seaboard. The forecast was for a cool breeze on that side due to a brief respite from the relentless near gale-force southeaster and a swing to the west, and it turned out to be true, even though the rest of Cape Town experienced a less than balmy 28+.
The signs of progressing summer were all there - dust-laden vegetation, parched leaves curling and turning brown, a carpet of fallen pine needles and gum leaves, and not a flower to be seen. Even the die-hard Port Jackson saplings were in distress and a carelessly lit fire would sweep rapidly through the tinder-dry grasses.
The path wound around Clifton and Sea Point just above the top level of houses, giving us ample opportunity to look down on the endless flat roofed glass and concrete boxes that only the very wealthy can aspire to - but we enjoyed the same views at no cost and under very pleasant circumstances without giving a thought to rates and taxes! A seasonal visitor from the north, a Steppe Buzzard, hovered just below us, taking advantage of the thermals to demonstrate his aerodynamic skills and we could only watch in awe at this very special moment. It's not often we can have an extended close up view of a raptor, particularly from above.
Further along, the human version of flying on the thermals was taking place in the form of paragliders running off Signal Hill and swooping rapidly down to the lawns on the Sea Point promenade. A poor second to a pair of wings, I'm sure, but flying nonetheless.
A little over 5km brought us back to the cars, after a most companionable hike to ease into the weekend.

Photo: Brian Moore

Photo: Brian Moore

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Photo: John Wright

Steppe buzzard. Photo: John Wright

No Cape Point for us!

It would have been foolhardy to attempt the walk along the narrow clifftop path to the Cape Point lighthouse in almost gale force wind, and the thought of leaning into it on the steep climb up to the old lighthouse made us wonder if there would be any point, and so good sense prevailed and our brave band of intrepid hikers headed down to Platboom for an easy beach stroll.
We took the shoreline track towards the Cape of Good Hope, a pleasant amble alongside stretches of flat rocks and sandy beaches, just high enough to avoid being sandblasted and low enough to be away from the bushy vegetation. We passed a flock of Pied Avocets, curved beaks pointed into the wind to make the most of their natural aerodynamics, but even so, the wind kept blowing them backwards across the sand and they had to scurry forward again to form a tighter group to withstand the onslaught. They are particularly pretty with their striking black and white markings being most evident with wings outstretched. They migrate from Europe to escape the harsh winter and return to breed when our winter sets in. To give an idea of their size and delicacy, a relatively stocky African Black Oystercatcher made a fine contrast against the flock.
The strong offshore wind attracted about 20 obviously seasoned windsurfers and a lone kiteboarder who streaked backwards and forwards over a considerable distance, far out to sea at unimaginable speed and only slightly slower shorewards. The word exhilarating was never more fitting to describe this sport and the levels of adrenalin must have been akin to bungee jumping! We sat for a very soul-soothing half hour on the rocks, watching the colourful sails - airborne over the waves on a rising tide - and perhaps envying their youth and strength just a little!
The sea was a translucent turquoise (the result of the prolonged offshore gale this week) and just magnificent to behold, with plumes of bright white surf splashing skyward against the rocks. There was no doubt that this alternative to a blustery battle above was infinitely better and there were no regrets!