Category Archives: South Africa

A collection of travelogues from my trips in South Africa, peppered with reviews and recommendations of accommodation, walking tours, restaurants and pubs.

Africa, South Africa

Travelogue: Kommetjie

KOMMETJIE

14-19 July 2022

Our friend Candy had signed up for a website where you get to house and pet sit in exchange for free accommodation. Although the website offers homes across the globe, Candy had specifically looked for a South African beach destination to get her feet wet, as it were. She had secured a prime booking in Kommetjie (on the peninsula to the south of Cape Town) for two months over July and August – and we had promised to join her to keep her company.

The perfect opportunity to join her in Kommetjie arose when Christian was nominated at work to host customers at an international rugby match to be played at Cape Town Stadium in the middle of July. As a relatively last-minute plan and with the surcharge in local flights, we were grateful that lockdown had established ”work from home” practices as the new normal, such that we were able to travel down on the red-eye flight on Thursday morning and book the last flight home on Tuesday night, making for a lovely long weekend.

Never a dull moment, I realised as we got to OR Tambo airport at stupid o’clock in the morning that I had shuffled laptop bags and hand bags to be travel-efficient and consequently had no identification with me! Taking a chance, we checked in for the flight anyway and went through security. 

It was a tense 20 minutes wait in the lounge, but fortunately I was allowed onto the flight by showing a certified copy of my ID that was stored in my cloud drive and could be accessed on my phone. Thank heavens for the Cloud!

We arrived in Cape Town to a grey and chilly day. Candy had helped us arrange a driver to collect us and he was waiting for us as we entered the airport terminal. Gordon led us to the van and while he loaded our suitcase, Chris climbed in the passenger seat and I took a row in the back for myself.

Unfortunately I did not get to see much of the view to our home for the weekend because I had a meeting scheduled for 9 o’clock. Luckily with mobile technology I was able to log into the meeting on my laptop, and perform business as usual.

Arriving at the house, I animatedly mouthed my “hello” to our friend and host, and settled at an outside table to seamlessly continue my meeting.

Half an hour later, with the call successfully completed, I was able to do a proper greeting and get a guided tour of our home for the weekend.

How lucky we were! Our digs was a delightful mix of old world charm, with an extended wing that made for more modern and spacious living quarters. Christian later did some online research about our house, which revealed that it was one of the original four homes built in Kommetjie by the first settlers in the early 1900s. Our house was built for the Seeliger family and you could still see their original modest square home, distinct for the stonework on the outside (which was now swallowed in the back half by the plastered walls of the add-on extension).

The morning was a game of musical chairs as the three of us moved from workspace to workspace as we required quiet, chargers, company etc.

Part of the requirement for Candy’s petsit was to look after the owners’ two dogs and three cats. This included walking the dogs twice a day, so I joined in a midday walk to break the day and get an on-the-ground sense of our setting.

With the house being right on the beach, we could either turn right out the front door into the little town or left out the front door and were immediately on the sandy shore of the beach.

Turning right we walked parallel to the beach and Candy pointed out landmarks of interest. Since she had spent many years there when her son was a baby, it was a very rich walking tour of the town and her personal history in it.

Reaching the lighthouse at the end of the main road we did a hairpin and joined the wooden boardwalk that ran along the length of Kommetjie beach. The dogs, so used to this trail, were allowed off the leash and left to wander freely on the rocks and sands on either side of the path. There were many locals doing the same and it was wonderful to see how peacefully all the animals and people shared this beautiful space.

What a treat to get such a good break in the middle of a workday. The fresh sea air did wonders to prepare me for the afternoon!

We three all completed a very productive afternoon, with colleagues none the wiser that we were not sitting at a desk in an office in a building in Joburg. 

Chris had suggested in advance that our welcome dinner should be a traditional fish and chips since we were at the coast. Candy, knowing the area so well, lined up a short driving tour of the coast for us to end up in Kalk Bay for dinner at the legendary Kalky’s.

Arriving to wild seals spontaneously putting on a show on the quayside in an effort to get some fish treats off the fisherman, we knew this was a legitimate once in a lifetime experience.

Kalky’s is a very humble order-at-the-window type eatery… But we could see what all the fuss was about when our generous portion of  crunchy hake and slap chips arrived.

Being a school night (and having been up since before dawn), we returned to our home to light the fire in the cozy lounge and enjoy a welcome glass of wine with an endless conversation with a good friend who had so much to tell us about our new location. 

FRIDAY

We were all working on Friday, so it was another seamless game of musical chairs all through the workday. There was the farmstyle 10-seater wooden table in the middle of the kitchen, the large antique desk in the lounge next to the fireplace and under the window overlooking the pool and the sea beyond, or the sunroom off the pool deck which married the weather-proofing of being indoors with the scenic advantage of being all glass on 2 sides. The wifi was strong throughout the property, so with a laptop and headset, you could choose the perfect spot to suit your moment.

Again I took time out to go walk the dogs in the middle of the day and again wished that it could be a daily thing! 

Concluding our day at our very reasonable 16h00, we took a drive up to Noordhoek  for sundowners at Cape Point Vineyard, which had been recommended to us by friends who had recently, coincidentally, moved to Kommetjie (which is quite a coincidence being such a tiny enclave), and had happened  to visit the Vineyard that afternoon.

Great recommendation! With super views of the on-site lake, the town beyond and the sea as its backdrop, we would not have had opportunity for anything like this if we were at home on this day. We took the barman’s recommendation and bought a bottle of their white wine speciality, which we paired with crayfish samoosas – and great conversation, as we giggled about good times and discussed all the things we wanted to do with the weekend.

Candy also had the inside track that there was a free wine tasting every Friday evening at a place called Furny’s, so that was a natural second stop on our tour. We got there at the tail-end of the tasting, but still sampled 3 or 4 local harvests, settling on our favourite and treating ourselves to a bottle of the same to wash down a portion of the arancini balls which Candy had had previously and praised so highly that we couldn’t not.

Having head nibbles at both of our sundowner venues, we had thwarted our own dinner intention, but we still popped in at Jake’s anyway to round off our trip to Noordhoek. 

Last stop on the way home was to Fishermans Garden, which was a few hundred meters from home and which we had passed on each of our dog walks, so definitely warranted poking a head in to see what it was all about.

Lovely to end each day with a few logs in the fireplace (which looks like it had been built with the original house) and quickly warmed up our space’, while we sipped on a bottle of Pinotage procured from the Vineyard on our way out earlier that evening. 

We were treated to some unexpected entertainment, when 3 otters took to our pool. They frolicked in and out the water and poked a curious nose through the bannister that separated the stoep from the pool. They looked like they were having a whale of a time!

SATURDAY

Christian was meeting his colleagues early in the afternoon so we had the morning to ourselves. We started the day with a run around our now-familiar neighborhood, of course with the dogs.  Running through town we went past the lighthouse and circled back for a hair-raising trail and a bit of a rockclimb down to the beach. The dogs were definitely more agile than we were, and their tails were wagging enthusiastically at their adventure.

Having worked up an appetite, we made our way over Chapman’s Peak to Hout Bay for another fish and chips meal at Fish on The Rocks. When in Rome!

The meal was massive, delicious and fresh. Again the battered hake was melt-in-the-mouth, and so well-complemented by the calamari rings. 

It was time for Christian to head off on his mission, which left Candy and I the afternoon to wander around the Hout Bay market on the harbour front, and then return to Kalk Bay to windowshop along the high Street, which was some thing we had decided to do when we had visited there on the first evening.

Candy was looking for a mirror for a DIY project as well as an antique backgammon set, so at least we had a purpose to our mission.

Popping our heads into any store that may produce the goods, we managed to come right with finding the perfect mirror in one of the many antique stores.  We had certainly sampled a fair slice of history in the stores we had visited!

Very pleased with ourselves, we celebrated with a cocktail at local landmark, The Brass Bell. Already filling up with patrons preparing to watch the rugby there, we were reminded that we had made arrangements for our friends who had just moved down to meet at our house to watch the game.

Fortunately nothing on this peninsula is very far away so we were back at home in good time to get the game on the telly before our friends arrived.

Kim and Brett were very excited to see us, not just as a reunion with me and to meet Candy, but also to get a look at our house, since apparently our road is a highlight of the small town and we were especially spoiled being the home directly on the beach front.

I can’t say we watched much of the rugby as the conversation flowed, with stories of back home and this new hometown for our friends.

After hours of stellar company, we made plans to continue the conversation at lunch together the next day and said our good nights. Not much later Christian returned from his day at the rugby,  which sounds like it had been quite spectacular at the stadium, and he had done another good job hosting his clients.

SUNDAY

We took another direction for more sightseeing, and made our way to Simon’s town, another enclave nestled against the shore, that had served as a naval base for more than a century

Our visit began with the Simon’s Town Navy Museum; not something I ordinarily would have thought I would enjoy but the exhibits we’re very easy to browse without too much intense reading or concentration, so it was quite some thing to take in so much history of ships that had been based or passed through this little town over time,

It was another beautiful day in the Cape, so our next excursion, a walk along the promenade to visit the penguins, was just perfect. The wooden walkway has a mesh fence on the beach side, and the penguins seem quite nonplussed at the steady flow of humans gawking at them, cooing at their babies and snapping photos of these flightless birds nesting, napping and posing.

By now it was time to meet Kim and Brett at a restaurant called Camels Rock in our neighboring town, Scarborough. 

Known for its hippie eccentricity, Scarborough was a mix of down to earth setting and rapidly-escalating property prices. Camels Rock represented this juxtaposition with a top class menu generously sprinkled with vegan-friendly options, in a simple courtyard setting with a stage for live music.

After a delicious meal (the curry menu on the specials board distracted us from a hat trick of fish and chips), we avoided the threat of the live jazz band – jazz being Christian‘s worst ever! – by putting in a visit to see Kim and Brett’s new home in Kommetjie.

Since the town is so old, we were told that many of the houses are fix-me-uppers or armadillo’s tails with extension after extension leaving a disjointed combination of living and sleeping rooms. Their home however had been purchased, renovated and flipped, so they were fortunate to acquire a modern, airy and spacious home without any of the inconvenience that renovations always require.

With both of them working from home and each having their own dedicated workspace, it was easy to see how they could trade the big city for their new location with a park on one side and the beach on the other side. The New World certainly accommodated promoting lifestyle without sacrificing any commercial ambitions.

Sad that the weekend was over, but pleased that we would still have work-from-anywhere for another day,  we closed the weekend in our cozy lounge, with our fire going, and our otters again happily frolicking in our pool.

MONDAY

We had been told that the weather in Kommetjie could be unpredictable and had anticipated a grey and rainy winter’s weekend. However, we had been treated to magnificent weather throughout. While a little chilly, which is to be expected in the very middle of winter, the sun had shone and we had every opportunity to enjoy our stay and all it had to offer.

It was a treat to get a run along the beach before starting work,  where I was based at the large wooden desk in the lounge and able to peer through the window at the rolling sea while listening in on my meetings and largely being a productive individual.

We had made arrangements with Brett to accompany him to town at 17h30 for the Kommetjie running club, which had an established trail that went up the mountain to the looking points and then down the other side through the town along the beach front and then meet at a dedicated spot, where we were told they would be a cooler box filled with beers waiting. Since Kommetjie is so small, nothing is very far away and Brett ran from his place to ours to pick us up for the run, which started just across the road from Fisherman’s Garden. 

The running group was a very loose arrangement with people starting as and when they were ready and running at their own pace. I sense that Brett was humoring us since he is very fit and an experienced runner, and now had localised knowledge of the area in this trail. He ran at a pace slow enough that we could continually ask questions, take pictures of the beautiful sunset and comments on our surroundings so it was more of a tour than just a run .

The trail took us almost past their house, so Kim joined us for the last section of the run – and of course the celebratory beers, which were exactly where they were anticipated to be.

For our last meal in our holiday town, we had agreed to try the Green Room, one of the three restaurants in what could only generously be described as the middle of town (which is essentially a handful of businesses around a traffic circle).

It was a good suggestion and we enjoyed a fiesta from the Mexican section of the menu. Washed down by the local shipwreck lager.

Sadly, being a school night, we had to throttle our capacity for having a good time. We treasured the novelty of being able to walk home, not just because it was safe to do so but also because we knew the place like locals by this time.

TUESDAY

It was bittersweet to take our little holiday dogs for a last morning walk  before starting the workday. Again we were treated to fair weather and fresh air which is a pretty good way to start a day.

With work eating up the whole morning we saw little of each other, now old hands at finding our preferred spots to execute our various work requirements .

Candy kindly was driving us back into Cape Town to the airport so we left at around 13h00 so that she could do the return journey without having to take on the traffic returning from the city to these small coastal towns which now had burgeoning commuter traffic.

With plenty of time to spare, we were able to relax in the lounge, grab some lunch, tune into afternoon meetings and countdown the last bit of our holiday before returning home.

It would have been too easy to seamlessly close the book. Arriving at the beginning of the queue to board the plane, I was refused entry  based on a digital copy of my identification! Panic!

With some heated interrogation, I ascertained that they would accept a print-out of my digital copy, and so began the hunt for a shop that would be prepared to print out my ID for me. 

Although it only took a few minutes, the queue had been processed so quickly that by this point Christian was standing at the entrance to the plane and negotiating as to whether they were leaving without us (which would require taking our luggage off the plane) or wait for me and my print out. Fortunately, the decision never needed to be made as the luggage shop had printed my copy. I went tearing onto the plane at the very last minute. What a nailbiter!

Africa, South Africa

Travelogue W.Cape 2: Robertson to Hermanus

WESTERN CAPE PART 2
November 2021

Tuesday began with a lovely venture through the vineyards and around the little dam on the Rijk farm. Incredible to start a day with the sun peeking over the mountains, the fresh smell of the dewy vineyards and the sound of absolutely nothing all around. And then a multi-course breakfast to boot!

With 105km to cover for the day, we drove through the town of Worcester and then used Michell’s Pass to descend into Ceres. Nothing caught our eye, so it was little more than a drive around town and then back over the pass to regain our route to Robertson.

Robertson is one of the bigger towns that we stayed in, and we had booked a garden room in Gubas Hoek Guesthouse in one of the established suburbs. It was very easy to find and we were pleased with our choice, taking time to rest and regroup on our patio after dropping our bags.

Even though spoilt for options in this rich wine-tasting country, we had narrowed our choices to the Top 2 we wanted to visit, thinking we would trade blitzing around the area for quality time to sit and enjoy. 

First was Van Loveren, which has been in the Robertson Valley since 1937, as a small farm gifted to Hennie Retief by his father and re-named after his wife’s ancestor, Christiena Van Loveren, who had come to South Africa in 1699 so establishing her family’s local lineage. From its humble beginnings and over 3 generations it has grown into South Africa’s leading family-owned winery. 

Known equally for consistency, innovation and award-winning wines, our host at the guesthouse also shared that the farm is very aggressive in securing the best from the region, either through buying the best grapes to be produced under the Van Loveren brand or under the up-and-coming winefarm’s own name but within the Van Loveren stable.

It’s impossible to miss the Van Loveren farm, famously marked with the rows of red Canna plants that line the road alongside all of the estate’s vineyards. Today the empire is run by the 3rd generation, Hennie’s grandchildren, four cousins who very fortunately happen to be a farmer, a winemaker, a lawyer and an accountant. They introduced the equally popular spin-off brand, Four Cousins, in 2000.

We thoroughly enjoyed the 2 sampling flights we ordered; a Cheese & Wine combo with 3 reds and 2 whites as well as a Taste of Africa Pinotage pairing with biltong, wors, dark chocolate and chocolate-coated coffee beans. A real sensory delight that prompted us to plan dinner at the Four Cousins restaurant that evening to see what else they had in store for us.

After quite a story and a tough act to follow, we headed off to Graham Beck. A far younger story, Graham Beck only bought his farm in 1983, with the ambition of making a world-class winery with a sparkling wine flagship. Fortunately, Robertson with its perfect climate and soil proved ideal for cultivating Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, two of the three Cap Classique varieties. Today, Graham Beck Cap Classique sparkling wines are one of the country’s finest as well as being a contender in the international wine arena.

From the looks of things and the fondness with which our wine-tasting hostess spoke, Graham (who passed away in 2010 at the age of 80) seemed equal parts liked and admired. His successes as an entrepreneur and pioneer on top of his dedication as a philanthropist earned him respect; his appreciation for the finer things in life are clearly represented in the elegant tasting room, where we sat perched on high stools at the tasting bar, with a painting of Graham and his pack of hounds keeping an eye on us.

We signed up for the Non Vintage Collection Tasting (for me, 4 for R65, wines blended from multiple years) and the Vintage Tasting Collection (R100, grapes blended from a single year) for Chris. The Vintage ones are “aged with extended lees contact (whatever that is) creating single-vintage bubblies more complex in style”, which basically means they are fancier, more expensive and we hadn’t tried them before.

The hostess poured us generous samples of each, into big crystal glasses. They were shaped like red wine glasses rather than champagne flutes which we thought was odd, so she poured us a comparative sample in a flute to demonstrate the difference. Remarkably, the sparkling wines smelt and even tasted quite different – and much better when served in the large rounded open glass.

All in all, I liked the Bliss Nectar Rose and Chris liked the Ultra Brut Vintage, so we joined the Club, ordered a few bottles of each and between the entertaining hostess, the generous tastings, the Black Friday special, free delivery and the waiving of the tasting fee because we had made a purchase, we had had a great time and got a pretty sweet deal.

Quite pleased with our afternoon and quite sure that our double-bill was enough for one day, we returned to the guesthouse to drop off the car and head to Four Cousins on foot.

It was still quite early so we detoured past a lively place called Bourbon Street that advertised Guinness on tap, so we thought we’d sneak in for a cheeky pint to add to the Guinness Index. At R43 it earned a #51 and since we posted it on Facebook right then and there and with a photo of ourselves, the owner saw our post and came over to thank us for the support, giving Christian a Guinness Cap and braces for our efforts!

He’d been so nice about it that we decided to continue to support the place for dinner and never made it to Four Cousins in the end…

WEDNESDAY

Tuesday’s indulgences had left a mark on Wednesday morning. We had a fantastic continental breakfast at our guesthouse and were on the road just after 11 which made our first stop, Weltevrede Wine Farm, impractically early to get back on the horse. Consequently, we just took a wander around the gardens, admired the vineyards, exchanged pleasantries with the hostess and returned safely and soundly sober to the car.

With no wine-tasting and only 64km to Swellendam, we arrived earlier than expected, so pulled into the Drosdty Museum. An open air museum consisting of several historic buildings, we walked across the lawn to find ourselves in the original Drostdy, built by the Dutch East India Company in 1747 as the residence and offices of the Landdrost of Swellendam. Outbuildings housed slaves, domestic animals and there was a wagon-house. It has served as a museum since 1939, with a fine collection of late 18th and early 19th century Cape furniture.

The second building was the town’s old jail, with a tradesmen’s yard in the back with little cottages housing exhibitions of a variety of artisans’ and craftmen’s tools and equipment.

The 3rd building was a house called Mayville, which was built around 1853 and was a blend of Cape Dutch and Cape Georgian detail. Furnished to represent the lifestyle of Swellendam’s middle class at the end of the last century, you can view each room to see what life was like for the average family back then. The garden was laid out in formal Victorian lines with a scattering of benches should you wish to proverbially stop to literally smell the collection of heritage roses.

The last building, Zanddrift, was an old Cape Dutch farmhouse that was relocated from Bonnievale and now served as a restaurant. A quick Google revealed it to be high-brow fine dining, so we would be giving it a skip and happy to admire from the outside.

Now in time for check-in, we drove (literally) around the corner to find our B&B, Berg View Guesthouse, so-named for its location on Berg Street, in turn so-named for its position perpendicular to the base of a very big and beautiful mountain.

Our guesthouse was charming, our host even more so and our welcome further warmed by the news that we’d been upgraded! Our home for the night was a tastefully-decorated cottage overlooking Berg Street, complete with a comfy couch on the stoep so we could admire the mountain and watch the day go by, if we were those sort of people.

Of course we are not, so we had no sooner dropped bags than we were off again on foot to go and explore the little town of Swellendam. 

A more picture-perfect town you have not seen! The walk down the main drag was like a slice straight out of time; easy to observe many of the more than 50 heritage sites in this small town. Most notable was a massive imposing church, largely unsurprisingly an NG Kerk. Swellendam is immaculate and seems like everyone in the whole town has recently painted everything all at the same time.

Completing a big loop and back at our cottage, we worked our way through the dinner option recommendations on the laminated card our host had provided as part of the Welcome pack. She had said that several of the restaurants were very popular and required booking ahead to avoid disappointment. On calling our first choice to make a reservation, we were very sad to find out that they had not survived the hospitality industry challenges of the past year and had closed at the end of November. We were a day too late!

We ended up at a gem though. Decorated as a beach-side restaurant, complete with sea-sand floors and whitewashed tables and benches, The Garden Shack offered a simple menu of seafood classics with a few chef’s specials. Advised that they were famous for their sushi, we ordered salmon California Rolls to start (something we seldom do) and could see what all the fuss was about. Very light and packed with salmon, we thoroughly enjoyed every bit. 

More along our usual lines, we packed in a hefty mains combo of crumbed calamari, battered hake and creamy mussels all washed down with a delightful Bonnievale Rose. Full to bursting we wished we could enjoy a walk home to settle the belly, but alas it had been threatening rain when we left home so we had driven.

THURSDAY

Getting very used to the B&B lifestyle, we pulled up a chair at the main house dining table just in time to be served the Full English breakfast we’d ordered when we checked in. With all the trimmings, juice and a pot of tea, we were better prepared for a nap than a 110km roadtrip!

Nonetheless, we packed the car and waved goodbye to pretty little Swellendam and were soon admiring the change of scenery as mountains became vineyards (is there anywhere in the Western Cape that doesn’t grow grapes?!), then the considerably less pretty Bredasdorp, and finally we got first glimpse of the sea.

The night’s stop was L’Agulhas coastal village and holiday resort, chosen for its claim-to-fame as the southernmost tip of Africa. Since we hadn’t stopped on our drive, we were a bit early for check-in so we went straight to the local sights.

The Cape Agulhas Lighthouse was first lit on 1 March 1849 to warn sailors of the treacherous Agulhas Reef, is the second oldest working lighthouse in South Africa and is the starting point for the walkway that takes you down to the monument that marks the southernmost point. The monument includes a marker that shows the meeting point of the Indian and Atlantic Oceans and has a 30m map of Africa that shows the direction of the compass, has indicative 3D topography and includes several African landmarks. Well done Agulhas National Park; well worth a visit!

With the culture portion of the tour concluded, we could set about finding lunch in the enclave of restaurants along the seaside. We chose the highest ranked on Google and were not sorry with our very fresh and crispy favourite, Calamari + Hake + Chips combo at L’Agulhas Seafoods.

We were once again very pleased with our choice of accommodation, the very lovely Tides’ Song. Our host gave us the guided tour through our brand-new spick-and-span apartment, right on the beach. They had really put in the effort to make us feel at home, providing a loaf of fresh bread (still warm) and a couple of beers in the fridge. 

No time for that though, we had to go to Struisbaai to meet Parrie the Manta Ray. Only 6km down the drag, we were very soon in Struisbaai Harbour. A beautiful natural harbour in an old fishing village, its little wonder that this is where Parrie has chosen to take residence. Having viewed videos on the internet, it seemed beyond belief that such as unusual creature would be so unfettered by the comings and goings of this working harbour, but true’s nuts, there he was.

Walking along the jetty, we didn’t have long to wait before seeing the dark shadow through the turquoise water. He floats about and comes right up the shoreline, skirting along the ramp where the boats enter the water. I walked around to get better pics and he was largely unfettered by me looming over him and was even game to flap his sides a bit. I’m sure it was more a case of him not noticing me than posing for the camera, but still. How awesome!

Having ticked all the boxes, we returned to our house for a bit of down-time. The view and the setting caught our attention though, so we were soon taking a long walk along the seaside, working our way back to the enclave of restaurants to find ourselves a sundowner. We found a tiny little pub with no more than 12 stools at the back of the Zuidste Kaap restaurant and had a couple of pints of the local craft brew, Saggy Stone, shooting the breeze with a local about all the appeals of small-town life.

FRIDAY

Our plan was to book-end our trip with reunions on either side. Today was the Kennedys turn. With the coastal strip all Agulhas National Park, we would be winding our way back inland for the 128km to Hermanus, stopping in Napier and Gansbaai to break the journey.

Not much to report about Napier, but Gansbaai was a little more substantial so we did a loop around the town and stopped in at the harbour for a fresh seafood lunch (the slappest slap chips you ever did have!) and then were on our way.

Hermanus seems to have grown a lot since I was last there, some 5 or 6 years ago (or it could just be the angle of approach since the last visit was also just an overnight pitstop). We met Nic at the Old Harbour Brewery where he works and were treated to a quick tour of the brewhouse and a couple of pints at the on-site pub, catching up on who had been doing what and how we’d managed the last couple of years.

We then went past the Kennedy home – brand-new, they had only moved in 3 weeks prior! – to collect Lizzie. 

Hermanus is a very active small town with all sorts of events and activities throughout the year. We were coinciding our visit with an Art Appreciation initiative called Artwalk where on the first Friday of each month the town’s 11 art galleries stayed open until 8pm and displayed hundreds of artworks pegged in clear slips on washing lines inside and outside their galleries. 

Browsers can collect any pieces they are interested in and deposit R100 per artwork they’d like to buy into the marked glass jars, to be donated to charity. According to Lizzie – an artist by trade and by nature – you could pick up real bargains, by well-known or up-and-coming artists or even by amateurs to whom you may not normally be exposed.

I happened upon one of Lizzie’s pieces outside the last gallery we happened to visit, so I bought it as a commemoration of our holiday and a small karmic token of all we’d been fortunate to see and do in the last week.

We rounded off the visit to the village with dinner at Fisherman’s Cottage. It was very festive with a marquee tent in the square and a live trio belting out classics. The Kennedys know a lot of people in town, so we had quite a few locals stop by our table for a drink and an introduction. 

It seemed fitting to have a final fish and chips on the last night of our holiday. Beautifully prepared, the chips were fried masterpieces and the massive piece of Hake like a meringue the way it crunched on the outside and then melted in your mouth! 

SATURDAY

The last day of holiday can be depressing when it’s all about packing and leaving so it was welcome to have a last excursion to see us off. 

Nic works a Saturday Market so we popped in to have a breakfast with him. There were so many delicious aromas coming from the food court that we were pleased to be in tow of locals to guide our choice and I was soon sipping on the most amazing hot chocolate while waiting on my French toast and mountain of free-range bacon.

Bellies full, we hit the road, with loads of time in hand so we could take the more scenic coastal road through Betties, Pringle and Gordon’s Bays back to Cape Town for our flight. 

Africa, South Africa

Travelogue W.Cape 1: Cape Town to Tulbagh

WESTERN CAPE PART 1

November 2021

Having had holiday hopes dashed in July when our ski trip to Lesotho fell prey to border closures courtesy of Covid’s Winter Wave, we were savvy to plan our year-end holiday early to be in advance of any summer shutdowns. Having enjoyed roadtrips in the Eastern Cape the previous November and then the Northern Cape in August, we figured we’d hattrick with a roadtrip in the Western Cape. Having done the Garden Route several times, we settled on an inland tour of Route 62 through the winelands; Western Cape Part 1 being Cape Town to Tulbagh and Part 2 Robertson to Hermanus.

With several of our friends moving to the Cape in recent years, we paired our holiday with a couple of  reunions en route.

CAPE TOWN

Landing in Cape Town on Saturday afternoon, first stop on Western Cape Part 1 was an overnight with the Hunts in Croydon, a suburb on the outskirts of Somerset West – and a very fitting start to the theme of the holiday since their estate doubled as a working wine farm, with homes set between the vineyards.

It was wonderful to reunite and catch-up on what we’d been up to in the last few years and who we’d seen recently, cross-pollinating our stories with what we knew about mutual friends’ status and getting the brief on the new friends we were due to be making that evening, with dinner plans already in place.

We spent the evening at a lively new Portuguese restaurant called Dias Tavern; it was the first time that anyone in our group of 11 had been there, so it was a trial run for all concerned. The food was great and the company better, and we were still there when the call of curfew came round and sent us home.

We awoke to a murky Sunday morning, which was great weather to work off Saturday night with a run through the vineyards in our weekend home, Croydon Vineyard Estate. It started to drizzle while we were out, but it wasn’t cold and the setting was lovely so it didn’t matter much.

Having worked up an appetite, we were ready to set off on our adventure.

PAARL

We didn’t have far to go on our first leg since Paarl was only 50km away, where we lunched at Cucina Giovanni’s on Laborie Wine Estate (based on the Hunts’ experienced recommendation). We were fortunate to get the last available table for the lunch sitting – and would surely have been completely out of luck had we not been so early!

The setting was gorgeous, even on a grey day. We were tucked into a table for 2 in the cosy restaurant and could view the vineyards through the window, with the mountains in the background looking like a painted backdrop. The pasta was incredible and the panzerotti and seafood linguini paired perfectly with the Laborie Pinotage.

Full to bursting we welcomed the sun breaking through the clouds for our afternoon excursion, a wander around Babylonstoren. Besides being one of the oldest Cape Dutch wine farms, the estate boasts beautiful fruit and veg gardens, set at the foot of the sublime Simonsberg mountains near Franschhoek. We ambled around the garden’s 15 clusters, comprising nuts, citrus, berries, bees, herbs, ducks, chickens, a prickly pair maze and a pofadder-shaped covered feature tunnel at the far end. 

The gardens are laid out such that gravity feeds water throughout, from a stream flowing through ponds and the 300 or more species in the garden are either edible or have medicinal value. There are harvests all year round that determine what is served in the 2 farm-to-fork restaurants.

Entertained and exercised, we were ready to get back on the road for the 25km hop to our home for the night, Wellington.

WELLINGTON

At the foot of one of the oldest mountain passes, the Bainskloof Pass, Wellington and its 62,000 inhabitants formed the centre of the Cape Winelands, producing grapes, fruit, wine and brandy. A charming small town, with a main road that still boasts the facades of buildings centuries-old, we drove from the Moeder Church at one end of the high street to the ‘Welcome to Wellington’ sign at the other end, admiring how clean and well-maintained it was.

It was also relatively bustling for a Sunday afternoon so, after checking into Cummings Guesthouse in one of the side-roads off the main drag, we sampled a couple of the pubs for a sundowner to round off our first day.

MONDAY

We started the day with a wholesome 5km run around the town, appreciating the view and the crisp morning country air. Our host at the B&B, seeing us return all rosy, was very impressed with our efforts and insisted I have an extra egg – on top of the 3 course breakfast she’d already laid out for us – “for energy”. 

We checked out and drove down to the main street to visit the Wellington Museum, which Google had recommended as “well worth the visit at the price”. For R10 we enjoyed a good half-hour of edutainment, learning all about the region, how it came to be and all the ups and downs that came with life over the last few hundred years.

In 1652, Jan Van Riebeeck and co. landed in South Africa, first of many. Surviving on stale and mouldy foods on the ships, by 1658 hundreds of vines and apricot trees were planted to service passing ships with fresh fruit, to which nutritious dried mebos and raisins were soon added. When the French Huguenots arrived n 1688, they were allocated farms in Wagenmakers Valley, particularly suited to the production of fruit, and this is where Wellington, the dried fruit capital of South Africa, was established in 1840 and named after the Duke of Wellington in honour of the Battle of Waterloo. 

The next win for the region was the completion of the Bainskloof Pass (29km with 11 bridges) in 1853, built by 300-400 prisoners between the ages of 18 and 40, mostly first offenders serving anywhere from 3 months to life. This allowed connection to the north and is a heritage site today.

Mentally nourished, we jumped into the car, headed 33km down the road to Riebeeck-Kasteel, one of the oldest towns in South Africa.

RIEBEECK-KASTEEL

Settlers in 1661 happened upon a lonely mountain and fertile vista, so named it Riebeeck Valley and established the sister towns of Riebeeck-Kasteel and Riebeeck West, which has birthed 2 Prime Ministers, Jan Smuts (1870) and Daniel Malan (1874). Farmers established themselves in the valley and in the 1900s the town was laid out around the existing church and what is now the oldest hotel in South Africa, The Royal Hotel.

With some 2700 residents, including some of South Africa’s most famous painters (drawn to the town by its picturesque valley), Riebeeck-Kasteel is often referred to as “Franschhoek 15 years ago”. It also has a great butchery and deli, where we picked up some dry wors and koeksisters for padkos.

Another 40km down the road was our final destination for the day, Tulbagh.

TULBAGH

We were quite underwhelmed by the town as we drove through; a line of the usual retailers overshadowing the smattering of historical buildings in between. The backdrop was breath-taking though and we were pleased that we’d opted to stay on a wine farm on the outskirts of town, closer to the pretty mountain range.

We had never heard of their wines, and had chosen Rijk’s Wine Estate & Hotel by the pictures on the booking site. They did us well and we were greeted with magnificent lushness of the green vineyards with a block of fresh white cottages, from where we could peacefully survey our surroundings. Sadly, Rijk’s didn’t offer winetasting on a Monday so we were forced to go out to sample the region’s fares.

We started with Twee Jonge Zellen, a very impressive wine estate offering tastings of their sparkling wine collection. Chris was in his element from the tasters while I gulped the view which was exquisite!

With an hour to go, we figured we could squeeze in 2 more quick tastings since everything was so close together. We chose Theuniskraal first, spurred by my connection having lived in a road of that name during high school. It was an unmemorable experience though, with no atmosphere in the tasting room, little pomp to the tasting itself and no stand-out wines from what we sampled. Flippenice was a bit better, with a larger range of testers and some (flippen)nice surprises of wines we’d seen but never thought to buy before.

We rounded off the tour (and Western Cape Part 1) with a beer-tasting (for a change of palette) at Obiqua Cafe, before returning to Rijk’s to enjoy the sunset from our patio before indulging in a wonderful local specialty, Bobotie, for dinner paired with our host’s homemade Pinotage.

End of Western Cape Part 1. Move to Part 2.

Africa, South Africa

Travelogue Northern Cape: Part 2

NORTHERN CAPE PART 2

03 – 07 August 2021

KAKAMAS

Having already spent our first night in the Green Kalahari belt in Keimoes, the plan was for our second day to be spent travelling to the farthest end such that the remainder of our trip would be spent winding our way back (slowly) in the direction of home.

This meant that Wednesday’s plan began with a visit to Augrabies Falls and had us sleeping in Kakamas.

With only 70km to cover and very relaxed hosts at Bezalel Wine Estate, there was no hurry to start our day. With the sun up and the makings of a lovely morning, it was very refreshing to put on our running togs and take a jog through the vineyards again while we discussed the finer details of the plan for the day.

We settled on a picnic at Augrabies Falls. And we already had all the supplies. Bonus.

On the road with our friends, Motley Crue (the audiobook into which we were now thoroughly engrossed), the time (and the endless bushveld scenery) whizzed by and we were soon at Augrabies Falls National Park.

We pulled up at the main building and – whether it was because of Covid, being midweek or just winter in the Northern Cape – discovered we had the place to ourselves.

Taking the winding path down to the gorge, it was a now-rare pleasure to be able to enjoy the open-air excursion mask-free. The Park has set up wooden walkways and viewing decks along the edge of the gorge and we walked end-to-end, able to admire the fierceness of the falls, the magnitude of the gorge and the scary drop between us on the overhanging viewing deck and the water so far beneath us.

Having done 2km along the walkways, we were ready for our light picnic lunch and enjoyed our sarmies, watching the little dassies sniffing and scurrying about the place, like chubby little Daxies.

The Kakamas Hotel was also directly on the N14 which runs from Upington to Augrabies so we’d passed it on our way through and, with the hotel being on the far side of Kakamas from the Augrabies side, by the time we checked in we’d had two passes through Kakamas which, thanks to boundless graphic signage, was enough to give us locals-level qualification on lay of the land and a very clear agenda. Wine-tasting and pizza at Die Mas.

The Kakamas Hotel for all its small town lodge charm boasted a 4-star rating, which showed in the efficient way we were managed from car to our ultra modern suite, with slimline admin consisting only of our obligatory Covid declaration form and the three little words everyone is always excited to hear: Breakfast Is Included.

Pausing ever so briefly to appreciate our pretty home for the night – from the gravel pathway across the shaded lawns down to the pond where the local gaggle was lazily sliding across the still waters – we were motivated to get back in the car and on our way to our next adventure.

Die Mas had come recommended to us by friends in Jo’burg, and lived up to the anticipation that had been set.

With Wine, Brandy and Gin tasting on offer, we settled (as the only customers, spoilt for choice) at a bench table at the outer edge of the grapevine-covered terrace to enjoy the beautiful sunshine and wonderful view, and ordered the white wine flight.

The chap serving us had no sooner poured into the tasting glass when a gust of wind came along and blew it right over! With no intention of wasting any more wine, we moved inside to an upright-barrel table.

Having thoroughly enjoyed the white flight, we ordered the red as well. While swirling and sniffing and sipping and critiquing, a couple of swarthy chaps came in and sat at one of the sets of table and chairs.

With awe, we watched as they ordered the wines, the brandy and the gin tastings all in one go. AND a Brandy and Coke long drink each for in between. They did a bit of swirling and some sniffing, but mostly slinging and giggling and having the best time.

We, meantime, had been served the bad news that the kitchen was not operating. So no pizza. But, when in Rome and all that, so we did a brandy tasting (seemed to be working for our neighbours) and ordered a bottle of Rose Pinot Noir instead.

The wind had died down so we moved back outside and enjoyed the start of sunset with the lovely local’s finest, pleased to see our super-tasters from inside leaving with arms laden with the cases they’d bought to take home.

An extensive Google to try and find a dinner alternative revealed a distinct lack of options. Not believing what we were seeing, we took a drive through the part of town that seeped inland from the N14 and despite finding schools, the usual handful of town buildings, a compact and neat suburb and after a brief foray into the local settlement, we found that Google had indeed been telling the truth.

Fortunately, our hotel had a restaurant, so we had a very pleasant poolside dinner with another bottle of Die Mas Pinot Noir for good measure.

UPINGTON

While our hotel was a pretty slice of the countryside, it was also right on the main road, which left nowhere to do our now-ritual morning run.

Good opportunity for a sleep-in and a hearty brekkie before the hop back along the now-very-familiar N14 to Upington.

We’d called ahead and arranged early check-in at our hotel, the Oasis, which soon proved to be a lot of value for our money, from the prime location on park-and-walk-anywhere Schroder Street, to the airconditioned reception to the access to the amenities at the Protea next door. And yes, Breakfast Was Included.

Since it wasn’t yet midday, we had plenty of time for a session in the fitness centre in the Protea. Chris opted to do weights and whatnot while he had access to the equipment and I filled the gap of my missing running partner by running along with the Olympics contestants on the telly in the gym. I did 2 sets of 3000m steeplechase with the world’s finest athletes, cheating a bit since I didn’t think the hotel would appreciate me leaping on the treadmill or splashing through the kiddies pool for authenticity of my virtual event.

Our pre-planning had uncovered a local offering called “Sakkie Se Arkie” that looked worth a try. The review promised a relaxing couple of hours of sunset cruise down the Orange River, which sounded about our speed. Showered and ship-shape, we prioritised going down to the jetty to book so that we would work timings around that excursion.

Fortunately we had taken the car purely because the Orange River Wine Cellars tasting rooms were 4km from the hotel or we would have felt very foolish driving to Sakkie Se Arkie, which we’d assumed as a turn of phrase when the Oasis receptionist had told us it was ‘around the corner’, but which turned out to even be understated since it was just on the other side of the Protea Hotel building!

Sadly, the cruise season had not yet begun (combination of weather and lack of demand) so there would be no Arkie for us. But there was wine-tasting, so all was not lost.

And neither could we be since the tasting rooms were literally on our road. Four short kilometres straight-straight down dead-straight flat-as-a-pancake Schroder Street.

We were very soon seated at a table at Orange River Cellars with a flight of 7 of their finest wines to sample; 3 whites and 3 reds of our choosing + a bonus red one that was new and being promoted.

We worked through the rainbow of generous tasters while lunch was served and then, with nothing else on the agenda, ordered a couple of glasses of our favourites and frittered away the afternoon, absorbed in the novelty of wine-routing.

We had hoped to get a pint of Guinness somewhere in the Northern Cape to add to our online Guinness Index. Some Google research had offered the promise of an Irish pub in Upington. And of course it was said to be on Schroder Street.

A few doors down from our home base, we had driven past it on our way out. It looked shut at the time, but we irrationally hoped it was something odd like small town hours or curfew-related restrictions or somesuch.

No such luck. On our return to our side of Schroder, a close up inspection revealed a note in the door that advised the pub was closed owing to lockdown and it was unknown when or if it would reopen. Equal parts sad for them and disappointing for us.

This only left the Red Ox for us for sundowners.

A complete surprise, the Red Ox proved to be a particularly shiny hidden gem. Upmarket enough to be associated with Sandton’s Butcher Shop or Rosebank’s Grillhouse, but with the added appeal of being riverside with spectacular sunset views over the Orange, our only regret was that we had eaten so recently since the delicious cuts on display in the counterstyle showcases and in the “Buy to Braai” fridges at the entrance were nothing short of mouth-watering.

We made do with sampling the local Kalahari Lager and Red Ox pilsner as it got dark and we planned our next day.

KURUMAN

When we had done our planning, we had only booked up until Upington, leaving the last couple of nights free in case we wanted extra time anywhere or got referrals along the way. Neither being the case, we were flying a bit blind, with the internet as our guide.

Scrutinising the route home, we made two decisions; firstly, to spend Thursday night in Kuruman (because we’d heard of it and there was a hotel in the same chain as the Kakamas Hotel that we’d so enjoyed) and secondly, to return home on Friday since the remaining distance was manageable and there was nothing else ‘must do’ en route.

Thursday morning began with a last run in the vineyards, accessing them by crossing the Orange on the bridge we’d seen from the Red Ox the night before, followed by a hearty breakfast at the hotel – a rare-pleasure buffet, carefully managed by the banqueting staff in line with rigid Covid protocols.

The only stop we made on the trip to Kuruman was at Kathu.

Established as an iron ore mining town, our limited view of Kathu gave us the opinion that although nice enough, there’s not a hell of a lot to see and do, so we settled for a quick visit to the local mall.

Leaving Kathu, it would appear that the town holds future promise with a lush looking country club and some adjacent residential development.

We did not hold a similar opinion of Kuruman which, sadly, was dusty and dilapidated by first impression.

When at check-in the manager at Kuruman Hotel warned us off the town’s claim to fame, the Eye of Kuruman, because of threat of vandalism and theft, the day’s fate was sealed.

We had booked a garden unit and it was right next to the pool so we did with our last afternoon on this roadtrip what we so seldom do on holiday. Absolutely nothing. And loved it.

Africa, South Africa

Travelogue Northern Cape Part 1

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NORTHERN CAPE PART 1

31 Jul – 02 Aug 2021

After a long year of ups and lockdowns and the bitter disappointment of a cancelled skiing trip to Lesotho in July, a roadtrip getaway was exactly what the doctor ordered. And, with international borders a challenge, the Covid virus still in a brutal Third Wave and a country recently ravaged with violence, where better than the most remote part of the country, the Northern Cape.

Knowing little about the region, surface-deep research revealed that we’d uncovered a hidden gem. Having thought of the Northern Cape as desert, we were delighted to find that it is also home to the Green Kalahari, a lush fertile strip along the Orange River with all sorts of unexpected and exciting things; most notably, a wine route!

Intentions set, we plotted a fun and relaxing week-long roadtrip. And having booked our leave at short notice, were in the car a few days later, heading off on our adventure.

The first day was the longest drive with 480km to Kimberley. A relaxed departure, good roads and traditional Wimpy pitstop had us at our hotel late afternoon, to enjoy the last of the sunshine. And to revel in being in short sleeves after having struggled through weeks of gruelling Joburg winter.

We’d picked the Protea Marriott because of its location overlooking the famous Big Hole of Kimberley, fancying drinks on the terrace while taking in the biggest hand-dug pit in the world… 

But a hole is honestly not much to look at, so we went to the Big Hole Museum (literally next door) instead. The Museum is housed in an Old Town reconstruction of the early buildings that sprung up around the mine and became the first beginnings of Kimberley.

The museum (and access to the Hole viewing deck) was already closed when we got there, but we were free to wander the dusty streets with its quaint collection of examples of the shops and offices that must have serviced the miners that flocked to dig their way to fame and fortune.

The experience includes an Old Town pub and grill, called The Occidental. Decorated like an old world tavern, but with the benefits of new world technology and a very modern menu, we settled into the sepia setting to spend the evening watching the Springboks play the Lions, while munching on delicious deep fried pork belly and rump strip nachos, washed down with the local Vokof craft beer.

SUNDAY

On Sunday morning we decided to do our own jogging tour of the newer part of town to build up to breakfast, so hit the roads on a winding tour that took us past sportsgrounds, university, schools and shopping centres.

A quick Google had revealed that a lot of coffee shops and breakfast spots weren’t open on Sundays and nothing much opened before 10, so we figured we’d squeeze in a quick walking tour of the old Victorian suburb of Belgravia to give Kimberley a chance to wake up properly.

We showered, checked out, and drove (no more than a few minutes) to Lodge Road to go and see the beautifully preserved building, some 130+ years old. 

Belgravia was a stark contrast to the modest suburbs we’d run through earlier in the morning, with manicured lawns and water features bridging pretty fences and the neat and sturdy brickwork that had so well preserved this slice of history.

Using the internet as our guide, we matched house numbers with significance, which centred mostly around the Oppenheimer dynasty. 

Unfortunately the museum and gallery were not open (unclear as to whether a Sunday thing or a Covid thing), which motivated us to get to the breakfast that had morphed into a brunch.

Good thing too, because when we got to the Crazy Horse to get their famous Full English (and then some) breakfast, we were initially disappointed to be told that they were no longer serving breakfast… 
But fate was on our side because this forced us to try a Kimberley special; crumbed and deep-fried rump drowned in cheddamelt sauce. Served with the most buttery mash. What a treat! 

The kitchen was not only epic but also super quick, and we were on the road again just after midday, heading towards Groblershoop for our Sunday night stay.

Driving the Northern Cape really was ‘the open road’. With decent highway slicing through the flat dry bushveld, barely any traffic and continuing the audiobook we’d started the day before (the story of Motley Crue, as told by the band members), the two and a half hour drive was almost relaxing. 

GROBLERSHOOP

As a pitstop to break the journey, we’d chosen Groblershoop for its remoteness, and a quaint little farmstay cottage overlooking vineyards and pecan nut trees on a working farm.

We were most pleased with our choice and were soon lazing on the deck chairs on the sunny stoep – exactly as we’d imagined we would be from the moment we’d seen the ad on Airbnb – admiring the lush lemon trees in our oasis garden, with the grey wintery vineyards as backdrop.

There’s really not much to report about the rest of the day, since we barely moved more than a few metres from the deck chairs to the bench table to play backgammon for hours while the sun set and the stars appeared on the pitch black blanket of sky.

On meeting our host, we had asked about running trails in the area. He’d indicated that we were welcome to run through the vineyards, which would lead us to the Orange River. So, since we’d awoken to a perfect morning, that’s exactly what we did.

We were fortunate to be exploring this part of the world at this time of the year because any sooner and it would have been too cold and any later too hot to have both a refreshing morning trot and a leisurely start to the day. What a novelty to be able to run in these surroundings and deposit ourselves on the riverbank (which looked remarkably like a beach!).

Also in no particular hurry – with our host having invited us to take our time checking out and to just leave the keys in the door (!) – we were able to take our time exploring the farm and still fashion a relaxed brunch from the things we’d brought with us in our cooler, planning ahead for our remote location and self-catering.

KEIMOES

Having previously inquired, we were expecting no-option self-catering at our overnight on the Bezalel Wine and Brandy Estate, so we broke the 130km-odd journey up with a quick stop at Kalahari Mall (which an inadvertent slip of the tongue had us calling it Calamari Hall from the get-go) in Upington to get a few supplies. Nothing fancy, just snacks and treats to see us through, with lunch to be the main meal of the day.

It was very easy to spot our home for the night, with a very conspicuous castle-like entrance on the main N14 road we were travelling from Upington.

We knew immediately that we’d chosen the right place when we were met at the door by an enormous chocolate-coloured dog, who took to us immediately and spent the better part of the afternoon bringing us things to throw for him to retrieve.

With the afternoon’s primary entertainment being a wine and brandy tasting, we prioritised getting a good lunch on board to line the stomach. For once we, never usually liking to be the only people in a restaurant, were grateful for the freedoms it allowed, so we could take off our masks and enjoy the garden and playing fetch like good humans.

With a hearty lamb pie and delicious springbok ciabatta behind us, we started our tasting at around 15h00. 

Martiens, the owner and 4th generation farmer on the Dyasons Settlement, narrated us through a captivating couple of hours, effortlessly mixing tastes of their wine, brandy and infusion products with education on how everything is made and colourful anecdotes of his family’s heritage and experiences.

There was lots to tell, bearing in mind his great-grandfather had started Bezalel Estate, having moved to the Kalahari from Johannesburg, where his grandfather had been the Bezuidenhout who owned the farm that included the current Bez Valley!

We walked away richer for the experience and with a selection of bottles of what was available for sale.

The area and industry had really suffered from the prohibitions of the last couple of years so we were pleased to be able to support local industry with such self-satisfaction.

We returned to our cottage at around 17h00, in time to crack open a bottle of the Colombard we’d just procured and wile away the sunset overlooking the vineyards and the tranquil little pond that completed the picture.

End of Northern Cape Part 1. On to Northern Cape Part 2.

Africa, South Africa

Travelogue Eastern Cape 4: Port Alfred

PORT ALFRED

02 – 04 December 2020

It was our decision to end off in Port Alfred – the closest big dot to the East London airport, from where we would need to depart for home on Friday – that our ‘few days in Kenton’ became a roadtrip of the Eastern Cape. Port Alfred was just that little bit too far as a homebase from which to satellite to the places we’d earmarked as of interest.

We’d had to make some big decisions and trade-offs to make everything fit, one of the more difficult ones being foregoing staying over in Kenton-on-Sea. We had rationalised that it was the most likely destination we’d return to for a longer stay and so comprised to a drive-through on this trip.

We left a murky Colchester behind and drove through a chilly and drizzly Alexandria to pause in Cannon Rocks to see what there was to see (not much; 2 canons and 2 anchors) and then emerge in a sunny Kenton-on-Sea. Quite a microclimate experience in only 80km!

We parked in town, did a bit of window-shopping (mostly of bakery and restaurant menus; can you ever really be too informed??) and walked down to the beach. Even though it was clear skies with the lightest breeze, the beach was empty. Maybe the inclement weather had been there earlier, maybe it was because it was a weekday and shoulder season or maybe Kenton does lunch or siesta in a big way. 

It was quite nice to have the Blue Flag beach to ourselves though.
Also nice to have taken the walk rather than drive down. Gave us time for a proper gawk at the big and beautiful holiday homes, choosing which would be ours should our ship come in.

It was then just a short hop (a bit like the Garden Route) to Port Alfred, where we had no trouble finding our accommodation, one road before a massive bridge and one road on from the main road. Even the navigationally-challenged like me could not but help find the place!

Wiltshire cottage was a little granny flat in the garden of the main house, on a road dotted with Wiltshire rental properties. Owned and managed by a lovely couple, we were warmly welcomed, given a tour and some great advice on what to do and see in the neighbourhood.

Not in any rush to go dashing out again, we enjoyed the comfort of our cosy lounge with an episode of The Crown, which had us hooked after the episodes we’d watched in the downtime enjoyed at our Colchester studio.

Sunset saw us taking a wander down to the beach – an easy walk and near impossible to get lost with beaches curling our neighbourhood on two sides – and along the beachfront to seek sundowners at The Highlander pub, opposite the St Andrews Golf Course.

With Prawns as the chef’s daily special, sundowners soon turned into a seafood feast, which seemed very fitting for our seaside surrounds.

Always a treat to be able to walk home from dinner and en route we smelled the most delicious aroma wafting from a heavenly restaurant that we resolutely decided would make for the perfect farewell dinner.

THURSDAY

With precious little to do on our last day, we started the day with a slow run around the golf course and along the beach. When we got back and were cooling off on our little patio, our host’s stopped to chat and gave us both advice on what to do for the day and an invitation to join them for a social in the evening.

Following their advice, we took a little drive down the coast to see the Fishriver Lighthouse. Even though tours had been cancelled because of the pandemics, it was still possible to drive right up to the lighthouse – and get some great pics from the prime location.

Our host, Roy, had recommended a roadside diner for our lunch. On arrival we found them mid- power failure and apologetic that things were taking longer than usual. We were in absolutely no hurry, so settled in at the beer garden at the back. It was worth the wait and our surf n turf and seafood combo were both excellent (in value and in taste). 

That left time to retreat back to the couch for a few episodes of  sensational series, The Crown, before taking Roy up on his invitation to visit his bar in the early evening, while Leanne was hosting her bookclub in the main house.

Popping across the garden with the last of our beers, we were greeted by a tableful of gents, communed for their ritual bi-weekly social. 

Roy had an impressive bar, walls lined with memorabilia that it had clearly taken a lifetime to collect. Beer bottles, Steins, framed pictures of important event… His flash guided tour didn’t do justice to the treasure chest of memories!

Roy also had a private library annexed onto his bar, with an enviable collection of hardcover books that concentrated on biographies and autobiographies; right up Christian’s alley so led to an energetic back and forth about which ones were best, which stories were believable and what gaps remained to be told of protagonists who were still alive and making history.

On completing the tour, chairs were added to the table for us and, as cameo guests to this clique, we were faced with the usual set of questions (where we’re from, what we do there, what we were doing here and for how long) and then were peppered with appropriate stories in response from group, who were mostly retired to Port Alfred from Joburg, Durban and CT.

They were great company and had it not been our last night, we might have been tempted to stay longer. But alas, it was, so we made a break for it and headed down to the beach for the sunset.

Of course, I’d completely misjudged the directions and so the spot we’d earmarked for sundowners was on the wrong side completely and already well into dusk by the time we got there!

No mind, we still had the restaurant to look forward to and so we made our way over there.

What a gem of a find! Only open 2 months, KC Italia was an intimate eatery with a very focused menu of no more than 8 pasta specials. A good thing too as we still struggled to choose from those limited options! In the end, the coastal theme drew us to the prawns linguine and the salmon tofe (fancy name for shells pasta). 

Able to see into the kitchen through the wide window connected to the dining area, we could see the chef working his magic and creating his masterpieces. It was very up our alley to be able to watch him swirling delicious things in the assortment of pans and scooping our steaming food into bowls, to be picked up immediately and served to us at our table seconds later. 

We had a long and lingering dinner, enjoying every bite of our meal. It was so wonderful I would have licked the bowl if I thought I could get away with it! And I said as much to the chef when he came out to check on us and he beamed, obviously thrilled at the sincere compliment.

His partner, the hostess, spent quite a bit of time chatting to us, excited by their impetuous decision to open the restaurant – post both of them being displaced by Covid closures – and optimistic for their chances for a busy December holiday period. She said that there was fortunately still consistent appetite for restaurant-eating in Port Alfred since there is a large retired community, who have been less economically affected by the pandemic.

A portion of that community were still having a whale of a time when we got back to Wiltshire Cottage. The bookclub had become a lot more audible and we caught snatches of the conversation and intermittent roars of laughter from the gents at the pub. 

With a plane to catch the next morning, we snuck into our cottage and popped on an episode of The Crown rather than getting tangled in the raging nightlife in our back yard.

Africa, South Africa

Travelogue Eastern Cape 3: Grahamstown & Colchester

GRAHAMSTOWN & COLCHESTER

30 Nov – 02 Dec 2020

Leaving Bathurst we travelled along R67 for a quick stop-in at Grahamstown en route to Colchester, where we’d be staying for the next couple of nights. It was just a short hop down the road and held the promise of lunch at the end of the journey.

Pulling into town, we paused at the 1820 Settlers Monuments, which we were expecting to be a single statue. It turned out to be a conference centre with a few statues, a small locked-up fort, a sundial and a very solid lay-of-the-land viewpoint for the town below.

Leaving the monument, we drove down and parked outside one of the many red brick buildings we assumed to be part of the Rhodes University campus, intending to explore the town on foot. It appeared that most of the campus was locked up with occasional signage stating the obvious, 2020 measures in place. 

We walked down High Street, noting the contrast of the elegant brocaded buildings with the modern street level experience, the usual collection of brands every town has (no matter the size) and how relatively easily reversible the neglect could be, to restore some of the town’s lost charm. 

When we’d asked a Grahamstown local we happened to meet in the Pig and Whistle in Bathurst the night before what he recommended for our sightseeing, he’d responded enthusiastically that his hometown highlight is the new curry den. On our loop back up New Street we spotted the very same. The Curry House. Large as life and definitely, by the smells of things, worth a try.

We ordered a pair of bunny chows with a giant samoosa to start and since Covid rules prevented the eatery from seating customers, we walked back to get the car, thinking we would drive to the Botanical Gardens and have a picnic of sorts.

Obviously, it turned out that the Botanical Gardens was right by where we’d parked the car so we drove to get our food and then back again (probably no more than a kilometre or two roundtrip). 

Botanical Garden is a bit of an oversell of a name – lest it create mental images of rolling manicured lawns or structured flowerbeds. Let’s say that ‘lunch in the park’ was a success.

We ticked off the last sight on the list, conveniently (and coincidentally) next door to where we were. The old Grahamstown Prison which now serves as a cafe and bakery. With only a handful of cells, the little prison has been delightfully converted with a themed private dining room in each of the cells, several tables in the open courtyard that served as an open exercise area for the inmates and the kitchen and (self-)service area in what was the guard house. Very quaint. And worth a visit for a meal from what we saw on display.

Having whipped around Grahamstown quicker than expected, Christian suggested that we overshoot our day’s destination to pay a visit to Port Elizabeth for a stroll along the promenade and an early sundowner.

Less than half an hour added onto our journey, it was a splendid idea and we were soon wandering along the beachfront in PE, with the bright sunshine balancing the chilly bluster for which the Windy City is famous.

Chris had spent some time in PE for work so was able to give a vague lay of the land and point out some landmarks. A lovely little big city indeed. Hard to believe we hadn’t visited before.

We rounded the tour with a quick toot at Barney’s Tavern beach bar, which was already buzzing with patrons even though it was mid-Monday afternoon.

Back in the car we retraced our footsteps to our next home, in Colchester. We’d been attracted to this sleepy little town since 2020 and its pandemic had robbed us of our plans to visit Colchester in the UK for a wedding in July.

We were wowed by our accommodation; a brand spanking new, immaculate and tastefully decorated studio that had the best of everything you’d expect – and all sorts of things you wouldn’t (like a sandwich press, a humidifier, an electric beater, Netflix etc etc). We also had a private walled garden (good for keeping the wind out) and a pretty little plunge pool.

We took a wander around our neighbourhood, knowing from the map on the booking site that we were on the Sundays River but not much more than that. Houses were built far from the riverbank with open pedestrian access so we were able to walk alongside the wide, sparkling waters that stretched and slowly ambled from the nature reserve on the right to the sea on the left. 

Being in a secured estate our explore was hampered by the electric fence perimeter, which was our cue to get the car and take a drive to view the other wildlife, at the local pub, Grunter’s. 

It was very quiet (it was a Monday evening after all) but we were pleased with our surf n turf dinner and happy to call an early night since we had an early morning ahead of us.

TUESDAY

Our early morning was to get into the Addo National Park while it was still cool enough to favour good animal sightings. With our nest literally across the road from the Southern entrance of the Park, we’d saved ourselves any additional early rising or unneeded car time. 

We were able to fashion a modest breakfast with our patchwork of supplies and the amply equipped kitchen and rolled into the park, determined that we wouldn’t leave until we saw at least an elephant.

The park issues a map with a checklist of animals each with a points allocation. Christian was thrilled when the first sighting for the day was his; a Dungbeetle scoring him 8 points. Things got tense when he then spotted zebra for an additional point. But, turning a bend that saw the brush give way to an open veld, I evened the scoreboard with not one but two elephants!

From there it was a landslide; kudo, elephants, eland, zebra, elephants, warthogs, elephants, buffalo, camels, ELEPHANTS. It’s a very rewarding game drive experience, getting saturation point of sightings within a couple of hours!

Smug from a very successful morning in the park, we retired to our studio where we enjoyed the rest of the day lounging around, able to relax because there was nothing else unseen or undone in this sleepy little enclave. What a great day.

Africa, South Africa

Travelogue Eastern Cape 2: Bathurst

BATHURST

29 November 2020

We left Hogsback and dropped our friends off at East London Airport. Then we drove along the coast as far as Port Alfred, where we turned inland for the 10 minute stretch to Bathurst. We had chosen to stay at the Historic Pig & Whistle Inn because it houses the longest running pub in South Africa and puts on a legendary Sunday roast.

Cutting it very fine for the kitchen’s published 3pm close, we called ahead to secure our roast (lamb) dinners and made it in the nick of time, pulling into a parking bay in front of the hotel with mere minutes to spare. There were a few tables of diners and drinkers being entertained by a live band positioned underneath the hotel’s sign on the wide curb.

The chefs had waited to plate for us, so we were served fresh piping-hot roasted goodness smothered in a rich gravy – and for that moment all was right with the world!

With a full belly we were newly excited to explore our surrounds, so without bothering to complete check-in or unpack the car we embarked on a self-guided walking tour of town.

Established in 1820, it’s hard to believe this peaceful little village on the banks of the Kowie River had such a turbulent start.

Established on the frontier, it was an area of fierce conflict between settlers moving northwards and African pastoralists and refugees from the Mfecane moving southwards.

The settlement was named after the secretary of State for the colonies at the time, a Lord Henry Bathurst, and was intended to be the administrative capital of the Albany Settler Country, but that was moved to Grahamstown because of its superior military position.

Bathurst is now renowned for its quaint and old architecture, counting among the visible relics – all on our short self-guided walking tour of the town centre – the oldest unaltered Anglican church building in South Africa (St John’s), the oldest functioning primary school and the oldest continuously licenced pub in the country, housed in the historic Pig and Whistle Inn, which is where we chosen to stay for the night.

The inn building was originally built as the Bathurst Forge in 1821 but converted into a hotel in 1831 and has housed endless guests in its first floor 10 rooms, with countless more guests “having a swig at the pig” or enjoying the traditional Sunday roast lunch as we had.

On finally checking in – a process managed by a local patron from the bar in the tender’s absence – we were escorted to Room 8, a corner room which overlooked the town’s main crossroad, and we were delighted with the hardwood floors, the old-world 4-poster bed and in-room basin (with the rest of the facilities shared and accessible from the landing).

Opening our windows we could hear that the Bathurst Arms across the road was rather festive so, after having an obligatory Guinness in the Pig and Whistle (to log on our Guinness Index), we made our way to see what was going on.

The pub was full to bursting, with an open mic style live music show drawing and holding the patrons. Some were more conventionally talented than others, but the small crowd cheered all gamely and sang along whenever the words were known. No doubt both the brave showmanship and the good spirits were fuelled by house beers sold in quarts.

Not particularly hungry, but spurred by the numerous mentions of the town’s epic pizza place, we rounded the evening off with a pizza to share at Pickwick’s seeing as it was across the road from our hotel. We could see what the fuss was about as we enjoyed our large, topping-laden cheesy nightcap.

MONDAY

Waking the next morning we filled in the gaps left on out on the walking tour from the previous day, with a jogging tour that would see us completing the further afield sights within an hour or so, on a wider 10km route.

First target was the Old Powder Magazine, which is the oldest building in Bathurst and was erected as a military supply shelter in advance of the establishment of the town. We headed off, thinking we knew where we were going but ended up taking a few wrong turns – easy to do when your destination doesn’t have a formal address and none of the roads are marked. Nonetheless, we found it and were pleased that besides the landmark itself, the position on top of the hill offered a worthwhile panoramic view of the surrounds.

From there we ran past town and up another hill to the Toposcope. This is a stone beacon that was built for land surveying purposes and still shows the plaques indicating which settler families from where were allocated which farms and what distance from the beacon. An open air and free experience that is a wonderful slice of history.

Running down the hill and back to the main road, we ticked the last box with a visit to the giant pineapple which, despite the rich history of this living relic of a town, is most often the first thing to be mentioned.

Situated on Summerhill Farm, the Big Pineapple stands three stories high with a viewing deck on top and a pineapple museum inside. At 56 feet tall, it is officially the biggest pineapple in the world and was built by members of Bathurst’s agricultural community in the 80s to pay homage to the prickly fruit as it had provided salvation to the farmers in the 1800s who had struggled to grow anything until they planted pineapples.

Completing the last dash home along the main road, we washed, dressed and packed up, ready to head to Grahamstown for the next adventure.

Africa, South Africa

Travelogue Eastern Cape 1: Hogsback

HOGSBACK

26-29 November 2020

Having last been to Hogsback for a surprise wedding – and having a truly fabulous weekend! – we jumped at the chance for a revisit with the then-bride and groom, Tim and Wendy, with whom we had shared many other travel adventures subsequent. This time to participate in The Hobbit Trail run race. It was supposed to be in April but with 2020 doing what 2020 did, Pandemic ‘n all, it had been postponed to the last weekend in November, which magically coincided with the happy couple’s 4 year wedding anniversary!

With much excitement, we headed to OR Tambo Airport and found it to be tumbleweeds compared to its usual bustle. With a life-saving Wimpy on board (it had been a mad breakfastless panic to finish off last bits of work in the morning and Covid measures meant no catering in the air) we were ready for our next adventure.

Landing in East London, Chris secured our chariot and we were soon racing off in our Toyota Corolla, blazing trails into the mountains that would be our home for the weekend.

On Tim and Wendy’s endorsement (they had stayed there before on a previous visit to Hogsback) we had booked Bredon Cottage, on the Applegarth Estate. Cosy and homely, our accommodation was equal parts immaculate and welcoming. Our lovely hosts had left a bottle of red wine for our arrival and put chocolates on the pillows. We were just short a holiday dog or two to complete the picture.

Being Tim and Wendy’s anniversary, it was a shoe-in to have dinner at The Edge, where they had been married. And their wedded bliss was perfectly paired with our dinner bliss over the oxtail-stuffed spuds and magnificent Impala shank.

With a fridge full of champers (from our ‘grocery’ shop en route) and a fireplace beckoning from our lounge, we eagerly made our way back to our cottage to enjoy our first evening in front of the fireplace, entertaining ourselves with the generous selection of retro CDs in our host’s collection.

Late November and mid-summer or not, we woke to a chilly morning, with the mist rolling lazily through the valley view from our terrace. Warm enough in the sunny spots, we basked and admired the panorama as the morning became the midday.

The only thing we’d scheduled to achieve on Friday, being pre-raceday, was to take a walk to find The Big Tree, a Hogsback sight-seeing staple which had eluded Tim and Wendy on their previous trips. Consulting a map, it seemed an easy ask with a trail that led from the Hogsback main road (which was the dirt road at the end of our driveway).

Wanting to preserve our legs, we drove to the start of the trail and then followed the existing signage to our destination. It was a taste of what lay ahead for us as the trail was a bit muddy from the cold and wet weather and we did a fair amount of slip-sliding along the path to get to the 800 year old, 36 metre high tree.

Feeling we’d achieved enough for one day, we returned to our cottage to relax for a while until heading out for the evening market at The Edge.

Being cool but clear, we went out early, with time to do the twists and turns of the Labyrinth and then stare out into the sunset at the edge of the edge with the breathtaking mountains and valleys.

The ‘market’, it turns out, was 4 trestle tables that sold baked goods, hot chocolate, gluhwein and such, so besides buying some fudge, we were quite commercially safe. And given the opportunity to try The Edge’s pizzas, which had been teasing us with the aroma of golden crisping cheese hanging in the air. Perfect carbo-loading for the sweaty Saturday that was to follow.

SATURDAY

Tim had signed up for the 38km trail run, which was way beyond our interest or ambition. He was due to start running at 8 so Chris drove him down while Wendy and I were only rousing, with plenty of time for our very-civilised 8am start.

Soon enough though, we were lined up at the start; a very respectably socially-distanced collection of milling athletes rather than the anxious cluster that is normally champing for the gun to go off.

There really was no point in hurrying though. With the slippery course that started winding steeply downhill along the narrow and muddy trail we had taken the day before to get to The Big Tree, along rickety bridges and tip-toeing on mossy stones in trickling streams, and up the mirror-image on the other side… It was a cautious and careful balancing act more than an attempt to set any records.

Breaking out of the canopy of trees on the other side, we were welcomed by what looked like an easy dusty downhill. It didn’t last long though and that downhill was matched by a very long and very steep uphill that had us puffing and panting and moving at hiking pace rather than a trail run race. The views were spectacular though and it was easy to see why this underrated race is so appreciated and evangelised by the runners who have completed it.

The last few kilometres were a bit more of a classic trail run experience, with a slightly quicker pace along paths with matted leaves that allowed for better grip and a collection of obstacles in the path that were more of a workout than a life threat.

Arriving at the finish line, we patted ourselves on the back for a job well done, coming in at 75th and 76th, which for us is a great achievement being first-time trail runners.

The event sponsors, Merrell trail running gear, did a great job of welcoming everyone as they came in, and giving out loads of spot prizes so almost everyone got something. As they said, with formal prize-givings being forbidden under Covid restriction they had had to be a bit more creative and had actually spread the sponsorship more evenly across all the participants. Having little to compare to, the smaller field of runners suited our novice skills better and we would have had a far more pressured experience if we’d had runners pushing to get past on the narrow paths.

Tim came in several hours later, sweaty, sunburnt and caked in mud. The longer trail had included a lot more challenging bits than ours – and Tim had stopped to enjoy a dip in a waterfall pond along the way. The runners in the longer races have to carry backpacks with thermal blankets, windbreakers, food and water and all sorts of other things in case they get injured and need to sustain themselves. I can’t imagine I’d have enjoyed having to do more than double the distance AND lugging a backpack!

We made our way home with intentions of refreshing ourselves and then heading out for dinner, but our spectacular view of Hogsback was so idyllic and the fireplace beckoning so we stayed home instead, clearing out the last of our supplies and recounting snippets of the epic day we’d had.

Africa, South Africa

Travelogue South Africa: Paternoster

CAPE TOWN & PATERNOSTER

21 – 24 March 2019

When one’s favourite band is paying one’s country a visit and their second show is not only in Cape Town, but also on a public holiday that can easily create a long weekend opportunity, one must jump at the chance! And so it was we found ourselves plotting, planning and booking a trip to the Mother City for the Rock on the Lawns 2019 festival.

With the mass emigration of Joburgers to Cape Town, we were never going to be short of playmates or offers of accommodation, but we decided it made more sense to book an Airbnb close to the venue rather than having to compete with a stadium full of people to get an Uber home. We were very pleased to find a B&B easy walking distance from the stadium and so booked 3 rooms for the Joburg contingent; for us, Mich & Ian and Anna.

Since they had arrived the day before us and had a rental car, we were very fortunate to have a welcome party to collect us on Thursday morning when we landed.

We headed straight to the B&B in the hopes we could check in and dump bags. Although it was close to midday already, we had no idea if they would allow the early arrival – or in fact were expecting us at all – as since the initial booking a couple of months earlier, the host had gone quiet and not responded to any of my messages asking for early check in, then – thinking that maybe they felt awkward declining – asking if we could just drop our bags, and finally just asking for confirmation they were expecting us. We had only paid the R749 required from Airbnb and had asked for 3 rooms, so were fully anticipating being turned away or (possibly worse) having 5 of us share a double room!

But there was no cause for concern. When we finally found the place (the original Wetton Road had been split by the construction of a fly-over and some brightspark had duplicated house numbers on either side sending us on a wild goose chase), they were expecting us (although repeatedly asked if I was sure I’m not “Melissa with the 2 room booking”) and we were issued 3 rooms.

The digs was an old Cape Town home with the original wooden floors and pressed ceilings. And unfortunately also the old original single bathroom to service the entire house, consisting of our 5 and Melissa’s 5. A lot of people for one bathroom!

Nonetheless, the rooms were big, the linen clean and the location perfect.

We did some Googling to find a close restaurant to meet the rest of the gang and decided on Fat Harry’s “Burgers, Beers and Bones”. We spread the word, dropped a pin and hit the road, eager for lunch.

It was a spirited reunion with our friends and a solid carbo-loading with hungerbuster 200g burgers and loads of fries. I was cautious about the beer bit of the bargain, needing to go the distance with a long night ahead and also concerned about ‘breaking the seal’ with portable toilets being my future reality.

Still walking distance from the stadium, we all hit the road on foot at around 5 to make our merry way to the concert. The set up was very similar to the one we’d attended a few days earlier in Joburg, so we repeated the process, established a meeting point in the Golden Circle Beer Garden and allowed our cats to wander blissfully unherded between the bars, portaloos and occasional friend or acquaintance spotted. All while live bands entertained us from the stage.

At around 20h00, we moved into the crowds to get ready for the main act. We had a decent vantage point and again there was a lump in my throat as the lights dimmed, the spotlights came up, the backing music started and Robert Smith made his way into view.

The better part of 60, he still had masterful stage presence and put on a helluva show. Almost 3 hours of vigorous guitar and album-perfect renditions of scores of their songs, both hits and a few more obscure numbers.

My experience was marred a bit by being pick-pocketed and relieved of my cell phone… But still overall wouldn’t have missed the concert for the world.

We were fortunate that in the couple of blocks between the venue and our B&B there were 2 garages and – bliss! – a McDonald’s “walk-through” (the restaurant was closed but we were able to do the drive through on foot) and a midnight feast was had by all.

We were FINISHED by the time we got home at 1-ish. But not out soundly enough to sleep through the hubbub at 04h00 when we heard our front-of-house slash security man, Chance, yelling and screaming and throwing what turned out to be a coffee cup at some local entrepreneurs who had smashed a car window to relieve the vehicle of its contents and were proceeding to attempt to break into our house! Their attempts were thwarted and they ran off into the night. And we drifted off back to sleep.

FRIDAY

On Friday morning we split into teams to get our communal admin sorted. Christian had a work telecon so he stayed at the house; Anna and I went to the bank to get me a new SIM card, restore my online banking (which has to be suspended when a phone is stolen) and to order me a new credit card (my old one had been in my phone cover) and Mich and Ian went to combine a social with a shower at her dad’s place which was just around the corner.

By 11h00 we were all done and ready to hit the road for our roadtrip to Paternoster.

Our first stop was, as planned, lunch at Darling Brew. Known for their award-winning craft beer, the innovative people at the brewery have also concocted a very refreshing range of ciders (very welcome after an onslaught of beer the previous day) as well as a menu that cleverly incorporates some of their by-products, an example of which was the beer chips used for the pulled pork nachos we ordered. As an easy hop from Cape Town, it was a recommendable excursion.

It was a very pretty drive along the coast up to Paternoster; no more than a couple of hours in total and through the grasslands famous for the Namaqualand Daisies (which weren’t in season, but one could imagine the awe of the expanse when they would be). 

We bypassed the few stops we’d toyed with making (Saldanha, Langebaan etc), keen to get to our destination. We did stop in Vredenburg for supplies though, forewarned that this was the last mall on our route.

Arriving in Paternoster, it was even sweeter than we’d imagined. A smattering of little white houses hugging a curved cove with perfect ocean lapping on perfect beach. Making our way in as it approached sunset, we were greeted with a glowing horizon and a golden sea.

Our host was waiting at the Airbnb we’d rented, which turned out to be a luxury 4 bedroom house, quite in contrast to our humble digs from the previous night! In the bulb of a cul de sac, we were in prime location across the road from the beachfront with a perfect view from our front patio.

The host showed us around and prepared us for our stay, which was mostly how to turn on and off the beams, alarms and other security measures. Sad but true, Paternoster too has become a haven for crime; although mostly opportunistic theft of valuables left in plain sight by carefree tourists leisuring on open patios, appreciating the view of the beach and forgetting that they in turn are providing a spectacle for petty thieves.

We each chose our rooms, made ourselves at home and settled on the front stoep to watch the day go by. 

Not one for sitting still for very long, Christian suggested a quick trot to get a lay of the land so the two of us and Anna hit the beach, turned left, walked to the very end, cut into the main road and returned home through town. Very easy to get one’s bearings when the two main concourses are parallel and sand and tar respectively!

With 2 restaurants on the beach and several in town, we surmised we were going to have a fun Saturday exploring. Friday’s plan was a braai at home though so we happily returned to our stoep and the slowly setting sun.

The sun takes ages to set and throws off all sense of time so we ended up having a late dinner of braaied steaks, salad and our favourite side, mac ‘n cheese.

SATURDAY

Saturday morning began with a flex of good behaviour; we woke up to load-shedding so Christian and I took a morning run. Wanting to get our 30 minutes exercise to satisfy our Vitality requirement, we struggled to get the requisite 5km out of the little town. We ran to the far edge and then darted down every cul de sac on the way back to make up time – and still had to overshoot the house to meet the goal!

Fortunately the load-shedding in the Cape is a fraction of the length of Joburg’s so we were soon able to make a massive fry-up with the supplies we’d bought on our way in, to fuel our day of sightseeing.

This began with a drive to the lighthouse, which is in the nature reserve in Tietiesbaai (named after some chap, Jacob Titus, who drowned there) and was disappointingly closed. We got a few snaps from the outside though and went to a rustic beachfront pub called Seekombuis, known for its novel tables in empty rowboats, since proverbial planes had by now flown overhead.

Returning to Paternoster town, we did some shopping in the handful of gift shops on the main drag, walking away with t-shirts, scarves and olives.

Back to our lovely house for a couple of hours of relaxing and watching the ocean – which is all you want to do really since it’s too bloody cold to swim in – before our evening pub crawl  party in Paternoster.

Another hour of load-shedding ensured we really relaxed, by now well accustomed to whiling time on our front stoep, and we were soon off to the first stop on our evening adventure: Voorstrandt restaurant; a big red building a few doors down on the beachfront.

Ambitious to just rock up without a booking, we were lucky that the gracious host allowed us a quick half hour sundowner at a table that they were holding for a reservation. We managed to squeeze a bottle of wine (spritzered) and a plate of delicious snoek samoosas in and were soon back on the beach and on our merry way to the next stop.

The Paternoster Lodge claimed to have the best view in town so was a natural next setting for our Sundowners Part II. The view was good… But could hardly compete with Voorstrandt, on the beach. 

One more drink – at Benguela Blue, a couple of doors up from Paternoster Lodge – and we were ready to hit Blikkie Pizzeria for dinner and then last stop at the pub in the Paternoster Hotel (known as the Panty Bar for the rows and rows of panties hanging from the ceiling) before making our way back to our house. All in all we can’t have done more than a kilometre or a kilometre and a half, tops.

We retired to our back stoep, determined to enjoy every inch of our amazing rental home, and happily discussed our successful weekend.

SUNDAY

Sunday morning saw us up for another quick run around Paternoster, this time peppered with our reviews of our experiences as we passed the places we’d visited the night before. Having to check out at 10h00, it left little more time than to have a quick shower, snack on our leftovers in the fridge, pack the car and make our way out of town.

With our homebound flight only at 19h00, we’d planned a slow meander down the coast through the afternoon and then to meet some of Anna’s friends in Cape Town later in the afternoon.

We had scratched Saldanha off the list based on feedback from a restauranteur the previous afternoon, so first stop was brunch at Langebaan. We committed to the coastal experience and ordered an array of seafood from a busy pub and restaurant called Driftwoods, right on the Main Beach. We ate way too much and felt quite dozy getting back in the car for the second leg of the trip.

Arriving in Cape Town, we stopped for a leg-stretch and photo opps in Blouberg, happily snapping pics of the famous mountain from across the bay. It was a wonderfully sunny afternoon, with a bit of a chill in the breeze but otherwise a quick tonic for the time spent cooped up in the car.

Last stop was Forester’s Arms, a legendary pub in Newlands established in 1852 and still going strong. They serve a magnificent carvery on a Sunday and we were all very sorry that there was no space for another feast so soon after lunch. 

Still, it was a festive venue to pass a couple of hours to close our fabulous long weekend of party and Paternoster. Too soon we were off to the airport to catch our respective planes home and get back to the grind that makes these holiday hiatuses as valuable as they are to us.