Corsica, Europe, France

Travelogue Corsica 1: Bonifacio

BONIFACIO

19-22 September 2022

After a couple of years of lockdown keeping our feet on the ground, we were both eager and anxious to get back to our formerly regular adventures in the world.

Being a bit out of practice, it took the prompt of a business trip for Chris to get us plotting and planning again.

He had some work to do in Paris and London at the beginning of September so the thinking was that it would be ideal to tag a couple of weeks leisure travel onto that. We’d been working on our French on the Duolingo app throughout lockdown so the French connection prompted us to consider Corsica, a French island to the south of the Côté d’Azur.

Engulfed in the zeal of holiday planning, Sardinia (an Italian island) was soon latched onto the itinerary when we realised that the two islands were connected by a short ferry ride. A two-for-one road trip? Yes please! 

This now required at least a two week stay; impractical as an extension on Chris’s business trip which was already 10 days. But too good to put off for much longer, so pegged for September nonetheless. Chris would just have to go and come back, only to go again.

Tickets were booked, routes planned and hotels reserved. All systems go.

It was quite a trek to get there: drive to OR Tambo airport, 8 hour flight to Dubai, 3 long hours from midnight to 3am (thank heavens for free lounge access!) in Dubai Airport for our connecting 6 hour flight to Paris, with 3 hours to get our luggage, cross terminals and catch our 2 hour connecting EasyJet flight to Bastia, in the north of Corsica.

But then we were there. Picking up our little Fiat 500 to hit the open road!

Bravely, we had made the decision upfront to suck up the driving on the first day while we were in motion anyway, so to speak, which meant that first order of business was to drive the length of Corsica to our first home for the holiday, Bonifacio.

Although traversing Corsica was little more than 150km and a single road, it was national road at best so speed limit varied from 70kmph (mostly) to 110kmph (best case) and 50kmph through the towns dotted along the route. 

Even though we were tired, the drive was still enjoyable. It was easy to see how Corsica is fondly dubbed L’Ile Beauté (the beautiful island) as we moved through fields and hills and tropical vegetation, with the azure ocean popping up on our left every now and then. We also passed a few vineyards offering tastings and sales rooms and noted to visit a few on our return journey, when we had more time.

On the outskirts of Bonifacio, you’d be forgiven for thinking you were in Cappadocia in Turkey. The road we were travelling on seemed as if snaking through a valley that it had outgrown and consequently there were cave-like single garages cut into the high walls of sandy-coloured rock, presumably to service the shops opposite or unseen residences above.

We would need to have a closer look later; for now the mission was to get to our destination while still light.

Bonifacio took us a bit by surprise as we rounded a corner and were met with a marina heaving with fancy yachts and catamarans, twinkling lights along the promenade from the row of waterfront bars and restaurants servicing their sunset trade and big, brown and ancient citadel standing proudly on the hilltop backdrop, filling the horizon as it had for as long as it had.

Of course we took a wrong turn and ended up in the citadel itself, holding our breath as our tiny Fiat 500 squeezed along the tight roads never meant for cars and wheezed up the steep hills that one can’t imagine having to do daily without a car!

At the tippedy-top of the hill and suspecting our hotel to be down below on the promenade, we quit the confusing GPS, negotiated the twists, turns and tourists on instinct alone and sought solace in the parking lot of the Spar we’d noted on our way in. 

The security man, knowing exactly how precious parking real estate was on the cramped peninsula, was wise to our game and rattled off some French that was clearly “Oi! Customers Only!” or similar.

Tag-teaming the mission, I slipped into the Spar to buy <anything> while Chris set off on foot to find our hotel.

The upside of the cramped town was that nothing was far, so he was soon back with a hotel room key, a simple touristy illustrated map and a parking card for a lot nearby, circled on the map. 

I had bought a simple bottle of red wine purely for the label which illustrated in pretty watercolour that it was from our current locale. From the entire aisle of local wines, not a one had a screw top lid so it was very possible this souvenir may make it home for tasting if we couldn’t get it opened!

Our hotel, the Best Western Hotel du Roy d’Aragon, was no more than 100m from our Spar parking lot base station; located conveniently at the near end of the marina and at the base of the (steep) road that led up to the citadel.

We checked in and wasted no time getting out to get our bearings while it was still light. We were able to get a few sunset pics in and survey the meal options. 

As much as we had planned to have a local favourite for our welcome meal, we succumbed when a man with a large pizza box passed us and the delicious aroma emanating from the box drew us to the place a few doors up where he must have bought it. The allure of the melting cheese gave us the courage to negotiate a menu and an order in French, which we decided made the entire experience perfectly authentic. 

Despite the economical proportions of our hotel room (in stark contrast to the price!) we slept like the dead after a very long travel to get to this wonderful destination.

WEDNESDAY 

We had chosen our hotel for a combination of the location (rated 9.9! Fabulous!) and free parking (reviewed as a must across booking sites and, if anything, was understated since parking was so scarce and so so expensive), but hadn’t extended to the inclusive breakfast feeling that any continental couldn’t justify the charge.

Although the foyer smelt good enough to eat as we left for our morning run (combining exercise and sightseeing, some sweaty photos indeed!) we didn’t regret our choice as we sized up the numerous bakeries and supermarkets on our route.

Feeling justified, we grabbed a fresh pain au chocolat on our way back in to snack on while we were making ourselves presentable for the day. 

Hopped up on sugar, we decided to take a walk to the beaches to the north of the town. We’d spotted the signage on our run so knew where to go.

We negotiated the pebbly path in our flip-flops and trekked to the farthest beach first, Plage de Paraguan; a cove with a spongy beach of sodden leaves – unusual but not unpleasant – underfoot. The water was streaks of colour from transparent to turquoise to a deep navy blue and was cool and welcoming to our journeyed feet.

There were only 2 other couples on the beach and a few small boats bobbing close to the inlet of the cove. 

Rested and refreshed, we turned to make our way back, skipping the second beach and stopping and the beach closest to town, La Plage Cayenne.

With little more than a sliver of light soft sand, we went straight into the water which was again worthy of a postcard with the depth of shades of blue and smooth as glass. 

Having worked up an appetite, we returned to the marina and settled on a Croque Monsieur for lunch. Essentially a toasted sarmie with ham on the inside and cheese and creamy sauce melted on the outside, what was not to love?!

We had been propositioned a cruise as we passed through the marina for our beach walk earlier. Now, at 2pm, with nothing but time on our hands, a cruise seemed like a swell idea.

Negotiating the ticket purchase in French (not necessary but well done us anyway!), we were soon aboard the bateau and headed off to sea.

Our prior exploration of the citadel and our beach walk added to the tour since we were able to match the view of the land with the mirrored view we’d experienced from the land. The boat also took us into a few caves, with the bluest of blue waters. Hard to get decent photos though, with all the other passengers having the same agenda.

The perspective of the citadel from the open sea side showed it to be even more impressive than that on the side of the marina. I’d love to share the dimensions and history that our tour guide narrated as we sailed, but I think it would be close to fiction with my limited French and the story I patched together from the intermittent words I knew.

Arriving back at the marina with renewed interest in the citadel from some of the things we’d seen from our ocean-side vantage point, we headed up the hill.

Instead of entering the citadel on the right, we took the pathway to the left which provided a close-up view of the high craggy limestone cliffs and hints of the caves etched into their base.

Touristing being thirsty work, we celebrated our accomplishments with a couple of cold cans of Pietra from a little Spar (there really is a friendly one wherever you are) and a large bag of Bolognaise flavour crisps, inhaling the carbs after a very active day and enjoying the pause on a bench overlooking the sea.

We slowed the pace considerably, ambling through the rest of the citadel, all the way to the cemetery at the end, and then wound our way slowly back down to the now-familiar Bar du Quai at end of the promenade that ran in front of our hotel. 

With an hour or so to kill before our intended dinner time, we took a breather on the promenade to do some people-watching and then procured some local tinnies which we enjoyed at the end of one of the jetties; dangling our feet off the edge, basking in the last slice of sunlight and the shadow of the opulent luxury yachts (and super yachts and mega-super yachts) marvelling on how The Other Half live.

Quite by contrast, we’d nailed our dinner choice quite early on as modest but mouthwatering kebab galettes. Life was still pretty awesome for This Half as were chomped away on the delicious wraps washed down with ice-cold Serena lager.

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!

Europe, Germany

Travelogue Dusseldorf 1: Dusseldorf

DUSSELDORF

28 May – 02 June 2022

And just like that we were off into the world again!

After a very dry couple of years on the world travel front – thanks to the Global Pandemic – we had a windfall when Chris got invited to an international trade fair by one of his key suppliers. And the event happened to be in Dusseldorf!

What’s more, there were to be follow-up meetings in London afterwards. Not only could we tag on a visit to our Colchester contingent, but dumb luck had us there over the Queen’s Jubilee weekend with 2 bank holidays on our side.

With only a couple of weeks’ notice, there was just enough time to revive our planning savvy and start counting down the sleeps.

After some debate, we reverted to trusty old favourite, Emirates, to transport us into the world. With miles to burn (gathering dust over the Lockdown and about to expire) we got free upgrades to Business Class quick-smart, which would help get the weary bones re-accustomed to the hard life on the road (or in the sky, as it were).

Soon enough we were landing in Dusseldorf and grabbing a taxi to our hotel, Das Carls, which was perfectly located on the Carlsplatz, between the lively Old Town and the very lovely modern downtown.

Mid-afternoon by the time we arrived, we wasted no time dropping our bags, discarding our masks (not a thing in Germany, apparently) and heading out to adventure.

Being a Saturday in a notoriously festive neighbourhood, the Altstadt (Old Town) was teeming with people eating, drinking and making merry. Famed for being the longest bar in the world, it was hardly-surprisingly a popular Stag Do location. However, there were patrons of all lifestages harmoniously enjoying themselves.

We started with a choice that might be unconventional for visitors to the notoriously beer-mad Germany, but that was a classic for us. Seeing an Irish pub, we simply had to go in and get a pint to mark on our Guinness Index, which had been dormant for way too long! At 6 Euros (R104) a pint, we noted the new #19 position-holder and moved on to more traditional sightseeing.

… which might be a strong word for what was essentially going to be a multi-day pubcrawl with a lovely view.

But first we needed what every modern trip absolutely needs. A local sim card so we could see where we were going and know what we had seen.

The (Irish) barman at the Irish bar directed us to the nearest Vodaphone store he knew, which required us to walk through the Old Town and into the swanky shopping district. Quite in contrast to our charming cobbled first impression, the new part of town was shiny and glamourous – and not at all what we wanted for our first day.

We used the new sim card (which had been 15 Euros for 5GB of data) to guide us to what the internet considered to be the best brewery in town.

The Altstadt local brew is called Altbier, which we stopped to sample at one of the town’s oldest breweries, Uerige. Part-museum and entirely functional bar and restaurant, Uerige can serve hundreds of patrons; the brewery housing several public rooms (where you can book a table), cosy alcoves and private function rooms of various shapes and sizes as well as the considerable collection of patrons on the sidewalk outside and opposite the brewery.

Uerige claims the secret of its success to be its strict adherence to Reinheitsgebot, or Purity Law dating from 1516, which is still adhered to because its results are good and lasting, relying, as it does, on nature to create and maintain the flavour of the beer. Each ‘yummy droplet’ as they refer to it in their brewery is made of nothing but water, barley, wheat malt, and their Uerige yeast.

And the people lap it up, 200ml at a time, in great volumes.

We were lucky to grab a ‘table’ right outside one of serving doors. No more than a metal basket on legs, the row of these tables along the pavement on either side of the street allowed natural congregation and an easy drop-off for empty glasses. A constant stream of waiters exited the brewery with large trays carried high above the shoulder, filled with small glasses of Altbier.

One beer, one flavour, one size. Your only choice was how many and how often. The waiter fulfilled your order and marked the number of beers on your beermat, which you could settle with him when you were ready to leave. It’s a real honour system and we had to put in quite some effort to find our waiter to pay our tab when the time came.

Satisfied that we’d ticked a big box, we proceeded to the promenade at the end of the road we’d been able to see from our vantage point at the brewery.

Built on the Rhine embankment, the promenade stretches almost 2km along the river. Only built in 1990, it features contemporary requirements that allow enjoyment of the sunsets and river breezes in a row of bars and restaurants along (and on!) the water’s edge, with wide tracks for exclusive bicycle and pedestrian use respectively. Several stretches have grassy banks, where stretchers and deck chairs are brought out in good weather.

In the background, the historical square and the museums provide an equally pretty backdrop and great photo opps in all directions.

We walked up and down to get a lay of the land and marked off things we’d like to do and see over the next few days. With an unusually long stay (for us, 5 nights) and having booked a walking tour for Sunday, there was no rush to preview so we decide that it was time to sample the local fare instead.

With pork and potatoes being the order of the day (everywhere!) we were spoilt for choice. We defaulted to a place called Ham Ham because it was the first to catch our eye (next door to the Irish restaurant), had a rotisserie in the window with several rows of sizzling pork roasts of all varieties and because one of our favourite restaurants on our previous trip to Leon in Spain was Jamon Jamon, so it felt like a homage to that.

With a pint of Warsteiner to wash down our meal, we were soon tucking into roast pork and schnitzel with yummy bratkartoffeln (roasted potato slices). What a delight!

Even though it was well into the night by this point, the sun was still high in the sky. Bushed from our travels and satisfied with our first outing, we called it a day and returned, through the Old Town, to our hotel.

SUNDAY

Our hotel restaurant only served breakfast… but did a good job of it. Open from 7-11am, there was no rush to get up or to get down to the restaurant, so we took advantage of the clear and crisp morning to take a run to stretch the long haul of the previous days out of our legs.

Since we were in Dusseldorf for Christian’s Trade Fair, we used our on-foot opportunity to find the exhibition grounds. We found it; almost 5km straight down the river, with promenade all the way, it couldn’t have been easier to get to. And also was confirmed as far enough to warrant a taxi rather than attempting to walk it in work gear and get all sweat!

Having worked up an appetite, we were very ready for Das Carl’s spread. Expecting a lacklustre continental breakfast, we were pleasantly surprised by the wide selection of meats, cheese, breads, eggs and a small hot selection of bacon, sausages and meatballs. To my great joy there was also a sweet section and I fell in love with the melt-in-your-mouth fresh ring doughnuts stuffed with custard.

By the time we were showered and dressed, it was time to get to our 12h30 walking tour. We met our tourguide, a Welshman named Michael, at Heinrich Heine Platz.

We were a bit early thanks to skilfully navigating our way there from our experience of the reccie the previous day, so we took a walk up and down glitzy Konigsallee, a grand boulevard with all the biggest names in fashion that you can think of. None of the shop windows had prices on any of the items, so you just know they must cost a fortune!

Michael welcomed our mixed bag group of travellers from Spain, Poland, Ukraine, Greece and us. He’d been living in Dusseldorf for 16 years, was a professional musician and had been running a fairly successful music school which had been wiped out by the pandemic. He warned us that he was relatively new to guiding and begged our forgiveness of his known weakness for dates (and his hangover from too much altbier the night before).

He walked us through the Old Town, recounting interesting stories and fumbling through dates (that didn’t really matter) so that by the end it felt like we had a reasonable idea of what was what.

It was hard to believe that Düsseldorf was so heavily bombed during WWII. Most of the city was destroyed and more than a third of the population killed by the weeks of incessant air raids. The Old Town has been beautifully restored though and of course, the newer part of the city established in grand style.

Michael also clarified Dusselfdorf’s claim as the world’s longest bar. Allegedly in olden times, drinking in the streets was frowned upon so the long row of side-by-side pubs had a bar counter that stretched between establishments and allowed customers to move between each bar using doors within the pub. Whether the tale is fact or fiction is irrelevant, with around 300 pubs and clubs within the half a square kilometre radius, it’s easy enough to allow the title even with a lot of poetic licence.

As is typical, it had been drizzling on and off throughout the tour but, credit to his performance (and our travel brollies), it didn’t dampen the experience at all.

Needing to whet our whistle after the long tour, we tried one of the other classic public houses, the Haubrauerei Zum Schlussel. Again, with the standing patrons on the pavement outside, but this time with a high cocktail table.

Wanting to get the authentic longest bar experience, we bounced from pub to pub, resting longer at some that appealed more than others, most notably a rock bar called Auberge that was playing an excellent playlist befitting a Sunday afternoon.

Cautious with a workday the next day and getting too much of a good thing too soon, we soaked up the beer with a hearty early supper at Schweine Janes, which Michael had recommended as best known for its pork buns. Ratified by the pork rotisserie in its window, we tucked into a massive fresh chewy bun, stuffed with slabs of juicy roast pork and creamy mayo. Not a veggie in sight.

MONDAY

Having a lot of Sunday to work off before being entitled to another hotel breakfast feast, we ran through the Old Town and then onto the beautiful Konigsallee. Almost devoid of people, the glass windows of the label-brand shops that lined the street seemed even bigger and shinier and the window-shopping at pace made both experiences more enjoyable.

Both of us were working an as-usual Monday so our run and breakfast needed to be done by 08h30 so that we could kick off our “Work From Anywhere” workday as if we were at our desk at home or hotdesk at the office. Fortunately, the hotel internet was solid and stable and we had both the benefit of a desk in our suite as well as almost exclusive free reign of the hotel since the other guests were presumably all out and about, enjoying their holiday or fulfilling their work commitments.

It was a treat to sit in the empty dining room that had bay windows along 2 sides, and people-watch the activities in the Carlsplatz open-air market across the road while listening in to squads debating what to do about challenges they were facing with this, that and the other.

Taking no advantage, we put in a full work day and it was almost 6pm by the time we were finished what we needed to do.

The sun was still high in the sky though, so we still had a good few hours to use for our own adventuring.

With a curiously high Japanese population in Dusseldorf (almost 10% of the population), the Japanese Quarter has become very popular with locals and tourists alike, offering all sorts of Far Eastern cuisine.

Barely a kilometre or so from our hotel, we enjoyed the walk to exorcise the workday and – believe it or not – try and work up an appetite since our breakfast feast was still going the distance!

Having been to Japan twice, we were well versed in the various types of dishes and look for our favourite by far, tonkatsu! A perfect compromise with our commitment to an authentic German experience, tonkatsu is a breaded pork steak served with all the traditionally Japanese trimmings. This restaurant also had served it with a bowl of sesame seeds with mortar and pestle to grind out the flavours, mix with tonkatsu sauce and use it to dunk the already delicious pork cutlets into even more deliciousness. Again, not a veggie in sight.

It was a simple pleasure to be able to walk home after our meal. And quite difficult to resist stopping off en route since it was still light and bright. But with the Dusseldorf Trade Fair the next day, we needed to get a good night’s sleep to make the most of the primary reason for the trip.

TUESDAY

Now in the habit of a morning trot before breakfast, we ran through the Old Town and along the promenade. Taking the bridge to the West, we crossed over to Oberkassel, a well-to-do suburb on the other side of the Rhine. We ran along the far riverbank and then crossed back to our side using the East bridge. A wonderful crisp easy-pace run that gave us the 5km and 30 mins we needed to dive into the buffet guilt-free.

We were ready well in time to grab an Uber to the Trade Fair for opening.

Christian had made several appointments in advance while I was going to have a gander at some of the stands that were relevant to my industry to see if there were any nuggets that I could take home to change our world.

The show was in the Messe Dusseldorf complex, well-established in the world of exhibitions. There were hundreds of exhibitors spread across 2 giant halls. Everything to do with retail, both brick-and-mortar and online. Security, point of sale solutions, safes, software, analytics… you name it, there was someone that did it and wanted to tell you all about it.

I left Christian to his business and did a wander round, asking questions and gathering business cards where I felt there might be a connection to my world of work. A lot of the stands had quite impressive swag to draw the best leads, but it wasn’t worth having to endure superfluous banter so I came away with a mere 2 pens and a cup of ice-cream for my troubles.

A couple of hours was all I needed so when I’d seen all I wanted to see, I walked back to the hotel. It was a beautiful day and a treat to be out in the sunshine and fresh air in the middle of the day, let alone walking along the Rhine!

Back at my desk to resume my usual schedule, the afternoon flew by and soon Christian was knocking at the door back from his full day at the Fair. He was pleased with what he’d accomplished and eager to send the topline feedback home to the team that had deployed him on this mission.

By the time he was done it was past 7pm, although you wouldn’t tell it by the light of day. And, not in the slightest bit hungry yet, I was starting to think that my appetite was aligning to my Circadian rhythms because my belly clearly didn’t know when dinnertime was anymore!

We decided to walk along the promenade to have a sundowner at the Dusseldorf Tower, from where you could apparently get a panoramic view that stretched as far as neighbouring city, Cologne, on a clear day. And today was a clear day.

Ambling along the wide walkway, we soaked in the sunshine and atmosphere on our trundle to the Tower.

On arrival, we were disappointed to find that it was closed for a private party. Bummer. No mind, we still had another evening to have another go at it.

Tired from a long day and with another ahead of us, we opted for a cheap and cheerful dinner rather than a lengthy sit-down. We’d noticed a few chippies that were very popular and gave the Wurtsmeister a go. With a footlong hotdog, a tub of currywurst and chips (drenched in mayo) to share, we were eating in minutes, soaking up the atmosphere of the Old Town at our standing table outside.

Weird as it was to go home in the daylight – and to attempt sleep as it was only just getting dark, the day caught up with us and we were soon recharging our body batteries in preparation for our last day in Dusseldorf.

WEDNESDAY

Old hat at our Dusseldorf routine by now, we sped through our run, buffet and preparation routine and were ready well in time to start our work commitments for the day.

Christian had an even more jam-packed schedule for his second day at the Trade Fair, so packed himself off into an Uber to get cracking. I popped a Do Not Disturb sign on our door and settled in for my morning meetings.

Having taken leave for the Thursday and Friday, it was a busy day handling the usual routine as well as preparing for the time off and monthly reporting due early the next week.

The day went by in a flash and soon Chris was knocking on the door, very pleased with another productive day of meetings, both planned and opportune.

It had been drizzling on and off all afternoon but had turned into a lovely evening. We headed out of Das Carls Hotel for our last outing in Dusseldorf, opting to start with a last-blast pint of pils at Auberge before having dinner at another of Michael’s recommendations, known for their schnitzels.

With the sun still up and the sky clear and blue, there were still loads of people on the promenade when we’d finished dinner so, paradoxically compared to the running order at home, we decided to go for a sundowner. We had yet to tick the Dusseldorf Tower off our list and welcomed the walk along the river to settle our dinner and enjoy the moderate weather.

To our dismay, we were turned away from the Tower for not having masks with us! Having taken days to undo the habit that had been entrenched with our mandatory mask-wearing laws at home, it was bitterly ironic that when we finally shook the habit, we were called on it! Clearly it was not meant to be.

We settled instead for a pint of Warsteiner at the café at the base of the Tower and did very little but watch the sunbathers, the men throwing frisbees back and forth, the dog-walkers, the wedding party taking their photos, the cyclists whizzing past, the joggers puffing and panting and all the other shapes and sizes that were making the most of another lovely day in Dusseldorf.

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. 

Europe, United Kingdom

Travelogue Dusseldorf 2: Colchester

COLCHESTER

02 – 05 June 2022

Christian had been invited to meetings with clients in London after the Dusseldorf Trade Fair. The dates happened to coincide with Queen’s Jubilee long weekend (2 bank holidays in the UK) and we were able to take that Thursday and Friday as leave between the work commitments in order to maximise the time with our friends in Colchester before having to go to London to resume the work agenda.

Barely an hour’s hop from Dusseldorf to London, there wasn’t much time to do anything besides find space for the in-flight hospitality, which (hardly surprisingly for a morning flight departing from Germany) was a platter of cold meats, cheese, butter and bread.

We had booked a car to take us from Heathrow to the train station and Alex had booked our tickets to Colchester online in advance, all to streamline the planes, trains and automobiles required to traverse London – with our 4-seasons-sized luggage – to get to our friends.

For once, everything went more than according to plan and we found ourselves at the train station with an hour to spare, which was a nice change to the usual breakneck high-pressure bolting we’ve been known to do to both catch and miss trains in the past.

The train was very civilised; not too busy, clean and new, with free wifi, so it was a comfortable commute out of the throng of London and evaluating what we could see of the towns at each stop along the journey.

Alex was waiting for us on the platform when we arrived in Colchester Town; fortunately, with a car that could accommodate our massive suitcases.

We were greeted with much excitement, a run down of the plans that had been pencilled for us and a check-in on whether there were any special requests from our side on activities for the coming couple of days.

Our hosts had done a fabulous job of creating shared contribution to our entertainment plan. While we would be staying at Robbie’s house, Alex and Luke were responsible for picking us up and feeding us Thursday’s dinner, Johnnie and Lisa would be hosting Friday’s feast and everyone would join us at Robbie’s for a feeding on Saturday afternoon.

We were taken to drop off our bags at Robbie’s before driving round to Alex’s new place. Just around the corner from the place she’d lived at on our last visit, the new spot was in Lieutenant House, the extensively refurbished officers’ mess of the old Edwardian army barracks. Best of both worlds with new and modern interior juxtaposing the historical building and surrounds.

Although there is much evidence of being a military town in more recent history, Colchester was first an ancient Iron Age settlement, once ruled by Cuneobelin ‘King of the Britons’. Following the Roman Invasion in AD43, a city was established on the site of Camulodunum and designated the Roman capital of Britannia by Emperor Claudius. Its destruction at the hands of Boudicca is well-documented, but the Roman settlement rose up again and the remains of several buildings from this period can still be seen on a trip to the town.

Roman Colchester probably had a population of 10-12,000. That seems small in today’s world but in those days England had a tiny population so, by Roman standards, Colchester was a large and important town. Particularly so because of its position near the sea.

As far as we know Colchester’s status as a Colonia, awarded by the Emperor Claudius, has never been revoked, however Colchester has been long classified as a town… until 2022 when it was awarded official city status as part of The Queen’s Platinum Jubilee celebrations.

It was a lovely sunny day so we were able to lounge on the terrace – with Gary, Alex’s long-legged hounddog, naturally taking the best seat in the house and us arranging ourselves around him – catching up and catching rays before a leisurely lasagne early supper.

There were several festivities planned in town for Jubilee Weekend, so we decided to make the most of the pleasant evening and take a wander down to our first excursion; to the Colchester Arts Centre to attend the 35th Annual Ale and Cider Festival. The location was a converted church and we were briefed upfront that the standard practice is for guests to utilise the church’s graveyard as one would normally relax in a back garden, using the larger tombs as tables and benches.

With over 160 ales, ciders, Belgian beers, English wines, soft drinks and snacks on offer, and open from 12 noon to 11pm each day, we could have been there all weekend!

The countless kegs were arranged along the back and side walls with several servers talking the festival-goers through the options outlined in the printed menus. We had bought punchcards at the entrance, so it was quick and easy to order and start ticking off the options that intrigued us.

More in it for the novelty than the flavours, we tested some real very crafty craft beers that we would normally only order over our proverbial dead bodies… but since we were socialising in a literal graveyard, it seemed as close to those circumstances as we were going to get. It was a lively old time, sharing a laugh and comparing notes on beer samples with some of Alex and Luke’s friends.

Once we’d finished our punchcards, we took a walk into Colchester town to a pub called 3 Wise Monkeys, where we were able to get more conventional options.

Shortly, Robbie joined us. He’d been in Glasgow overnight watching a football match and had just arrived back on the train. And as if that reunion wasn’t joyous enough, soon thereafter Johnnie arrived!

It was quite novel to finish up at the pub and be able to walk home, stretching some of the tastings out in the fresh night air. Everything in Colchester seems such a manageable distance apart too.

FRIDAY

Alex had pre-booked us into a 9am Bootcamp class with her. Chris and I weren’t quite sure what to expect – and he feared the worst, thinking it would be quite prancy and aerobic. Nothing of the sort, we were split into teams of 3 and rotated running across the field carrying a sandbag, hoisting weights, lifting and dropping medicine balls… all while the teammate tasked with setting the timing for each activity had to do endless ‘burpies’ (drop to the floor, do a push-up, jump up again sort of thing). It was hard work! But fun.

Alex then dropped us back at Robbie’s house so we could change, grab a bacon sarmie and head back out again for another outdoorsy activity; walking down the river to a little neighbouring village called Wivenhoe. The inspiration was to give Gary a walk, the motivation was the beautiful blue sky and sunny weather, which was a blessing for these parts that couldn’t be squandered.

We set off as a merry group, chatting as we walked and admired the scenery. And telling Gary quite often what a Good Boy He Was.

The walk to Wivenhoe earned us a pint in the lovely Rose & Crown on the riverfront. It was too hot to sit with Gary at the exposed tables in the front, so we found ourselves a shady spot in the secret beergarden at the back.

With an impending feast at Johnnie’s in just a couple of hours, we resisted eating at the pub even though there was the most heavenly aroma of fish and chips lingering on the air.

Good thing too because it real wasn’t long before we’d caught the train back and walked over to Johnnie’s house, which was literally around the block.

Ever the decadent host, Johnnie had decided on a multi-course carnivorous adventure explaining to his wife, Lisa (who had yet to meet us) “Souf Effricans love their meat”.

Ensconced outside the shed in the back of their wonderfully full and green garden, Johnnie lit a Weber to smoke a massive tomahawk steak which was cut into thick and juicy strips for starter samples.

Johnnie had built a DIY pizza oven over lockdown, in which a wood fire was kindled to start off the Korean ribs. They were finished off in the oven – alongside a rather large leg of lamb – and the pizza oven then used to painstakingly manage baking several flatbreads, which Alex had made from scratch at home and carefully wrapped in brown paper to prevent them sticking together.

The food, the weather and the company made for a truly memorable afternoon (even with the bottle of Killepitsch Jagermeister-lookalike we’d brought from Dusseldorf).

SATURDAY

The Queen’s Jubilee weekend having given us the 2 bonus public holidays meant that by the time Saturday rolled around, we felt like we’d already had a full weekend. What a treat!

We had committed to do a Parkrun on Saturday morning to sweat out a bit of the indulgent Friday feasting. Showing mercy, Alex and Luke drove us through to Mersea Island which was a flatter course along the water’s edge which should make the 5km track a little easier to manage under the circumstances (a brutal combination of the Bootcamp stiffness and the party effects).

Helped a lot by the weather no doubt (grey and overcast, but clear, and cooler than the previous days) we all ran really well, most setting Personal Best times, which was quite an achievement! … That earned us a Full English breakfast at a local restaurant.

Driven back to Robbie’s, we had time to shower, relax and watch a bit of telly (lots of coverage of the Jubilee festivities in London) before heading out to get last minute supplies for our reciprocal hosting duties later that afternoon, where Robbie had promised everyone roast chicken and chips.

We took the scenic route to the shops, ending off in Castle Park with its Roman ruins and War memorial statues. SO much history in this town-recently-turned-city!

By now the sun had come out and it was another beautiful day, which could not be wasted on chores alone, so we grabbed a cheeky pint at The Castle Inn pub for time to absorb our surroundings. This included spotting that they did a Sunday Roast and, always being a meal ahead in the planning stakes, we immediately mentally committed to return the next day for our final meal before needing to leave for London.

Robbie’s house had a courtyard garden, which we took advantage of on our return home, setting up at the table outside so we could easily man the kitchen as well as bask in outdoortime opportunity.

The remainder of the group trickled in, and, being such engaged eaters, each stopped to peek at the stove, stir a thing, sample, add a something, offer some sage advice, sample again. It was wonderful and the kitchen smelt like heaven.

Robbie had recently bought an airfryer, so even I was able to contribute, offering to man the chips and showcase the wonderment of this modern domestic miracle machine. I cheated a bit, splitting the bag of oven chips into batches, pre-cooking and seasoning each batch and then throwing them all in together as the more sophisticated bits of the meal were nearing readiness.

Robbie had outdone himself! Prosciutto and green asparagus starters, followed by the golden roasted quarter chicken legs with bright green steamed broccoli stems and TWO sauces; a traditional bread sauce (which was a childhood favourite of his that none of us knew about) and a heavenly white wine and mushroom sauce.

We ate, we laughed, we shared stories, we debated the playlist, we drank, we laughed, we ate some more. What a brilliant day!

Once the others had all left, Chris, Robbie and I turned on the telly to watch the Jubilee Concert being held outside Buckingham Palace. We had tuned in quite well into the show and were greeted with Rod Stewart belting out “Sweet Caroline”. Not his song. How odd.

That was not the last surprise in the eclectic collection of performers, young and old, classic and contemporary, British and international. No clear golden thread of who or how these artists had found themselves on this line-up, interspersed with speeches by Prince Charles, Prince William, an Attenborough and the likes.

The lights show, projected onto and above the Palace, was truly spectacular in quality and pure magnitude and we wondered how they could have practiced it without giving the game away.

It was soon lights out for us; having had a very long and very full weekend.

SUNDAY

Sadly, Sunday was our time to leave Colchester. We held true on our last hurrah being the traditional Roast at The Castle Inn and were seated at a big table at the window (the weather had turned and it was most certainly indoor conditions) by 11h30, ready and raring to go.

We had the most delicious plate of roast lamb and ALL the trimmings; Yorkshire puddings, 3 veg, roast potatoes, sage and onion stuffing…  and 2 large gravy boats provided without even having to ask. If we lived in Colchester, this is where you would find us every Sunday for sure.

Alex and Luke drove us down to the Colchester train station for our 1pm train that would see us in London within an hour.

With a train strike on the go and heavy luggage in tow, we didn’t hesitate to grab a cab to get us to our hotel, the Dorsett in Shepherd’s Bush.

We had made arrangements to go and visit friends of ours from South Africa for Sunday sundowners at a Jubilee street party in their road in Hampton Hill. Although only a few miles away, it was still a good half hour in an Uber so we headed straight out so we’d be able to make the most of our time.

They were delighted to see us! We spent a couple of quality hours at their kitchen table, catching up on the 5 or so years it had been since we saw them last (when we’d done a flyby visit past their old house in Twickenham on our way out of the previous UK flit), before testing out their street party.

Good on the UK government; they had encouraged citizens to celebrate Jubilee in style by not only closing off portions of the roads that applied, but also providing an allowance to be spent on party requirements like food, marquees, equipment etc! It was such a great opportunity for neighbours to get to know each other, and very patriotic with Union Jack bunting and party favours.

Such a pity it was a Sunday and this was a work trip, because we had to be sensible and return back to our hotel at a reasonable time in order to accommodate the Monday workday – a particularly early start since the UK was an hour behind South African time, so we’d be logging on at 7am to keep in sync.

MONDAY

Largely uneventful as a working day, I had logged in and been glued to my laptop all day while Christ went off in a taxi (thanks to the train strike) to his work appointments. He did have a very successful day and returned with gushing stories about the sites he’d seen and how many innovation ideas he would be able to return home.

We were supposed to have met Faye for an after-work drink and a catch-up, but with us in West London and her in East London and a train strike to contend with, the logistics would be so cumbersome to get from A to B that we might as well not have been in the same city at all.

With no commitments, we decided to rather take a walk around our neighbourhood and find a curry house to enjoy the last meal of our trip. We lucked upon the Rajput and had a(nother) very large meal with a BYO bottle of red from the convenience store next door.

Again, we revelled in the opportunity to walk off our meal on the way back to the hotel. So much so that we bypassed our door to do a lap around the Shepherd’s Bush Green across the road.

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.

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 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

First stop was 50km away in Paarl, lunching 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 form 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 Hugenots 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 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.

Africa, Namibia

Travelogue Namibia 5: Etosha

ETOSHA

30 September – 2 October 2021

Nearing the end of our grand roadtrip, the drive from Palmwag to Etosha mapped at 322km. We had done enough driving in Namibia to know that the mileage meant nothing; the terrain would dictate the travel time.

Spotting 5 giraffe almost immediately upon exiting the gate at Palmwag Lodge was a clue that we were in the bush and should expect slow going.

What we did not expect was the 10km of the Grootberg Pass, with its white-knuckle narrow roads, and the car occasionally slipping and sliding on the loose gravel, nudging toward the low pile of rocks acting as a guardrail between the road and steep gorge. We were grateful to be in the big and burly Hilux – and wondered if the burnout cars commonly found along our route had proved powerless in these circumstances and just been abandoned in favour of something more suitable.

Our midway stop proved to be a fail. Fortunately for us we had had more than our fill at the Palmwag Lodge buffet breakfast because Kamanjab turned out to be a bustling petrol station and Spar; more of a rank than a one-stop.

The intersection did herald the start of 61km of glorious tar road, on which we could make up some lost time and perhaps even get in the afternoon swim that has eluded us the previous day!

There was much excitement when we spotted the first Etosha Conservancy sign and, with kind roads at our disposal, we arrived just after 15h00 at our camp, Okaukuejo.

Etosha is one giant pan, and the basin of a massive prehistoric lake that was around 300m deep in places. With scale like that to contend with and the park’s reputation as one of the greatest in the world, we had been entirely pragmatic in our choice of Etosha accommodation – chosen purely for being the shortest, easiest drive back to Windhoek for our flight home. And we had gotten very lucky.

Okaukuejo Camp’s claim to fame was a floodlit watering hole that attracted animals throughout the day and night. And our chalets were right on the edge of the watering hole, so we had swathes of animals coming right to us! This suited the agenda for our last stop perfectly: see as much as possible while doing as little as possible.

There were 4 rhino lazily wallowing in the watering hole while we unpacked our bags from the car and settled into our homes for the next two nights. They paid little attention to their onlookers, observing from the benches dotted around the rock-wall crescent that separated the human domain from the animals’.

With a giraffe silhouetted in the background and elephants entering from stage right, we knew we were in for very easy animal-spotting at Okaukuejo and could afford to take a load off with some wallowing of our own in the human swimming pool.

The Camp was compact but had everything you might need – a restaurant, a bar, a tourist office, snack shop, filling station and even a castle with spiral stairs you could climb to get a 3-storey high vantage point of miles and miles around. We took advantage of all but the filling station, revelling in being able to park the car for a solid 36-hours of downtime.

We had booked a dinner, bed and breakfast package, so the biggest task for the evening was to choose a meal from the set menu. Opting for an Oryx steak (for the third day in a row) was a great decision. Yet again juicy and tender, fast becoming a favourite that was bound to be craved and missed on our return home.

FRIDAY

We had already seen enough wildlife at the watering hole to completely discount the need for a game drive, so there was no rush to get moving on the last day of our roadtrip-proper.

Easing into a buffet breakfast just after 9H00 (to meet the 09h30 cut-off) was about as pressured as the day was going to get. And even that warranted a little lie-down, after the obligatory check-in of the watering hole.

There was always something to see, with what looked like a hundred or more Springbok taking their turn, while a handful of Kudu were slowly edging in from the one side and Wildebeest trundling in from the outskirts. By the time we resurfaced, the players had again changed and a dazzle of zebra were playing swapsies on the far edge of the watering hole, with a few remaining Springbok who paced skittishly in anticipation. Ever faithful, a pair of giraffe obliged in the background to complete the (current) picture.

Our game play had been to hit the swimming pool at midday in the hopes of securing a set of loungers. A complete holiday cliche, all loungers had been spoken-for the previous afternoon, with towels and belongings claiming territory for absent persons.

Our thinking paid off and the pool area was near-deserted. Whether it was lunchtime, siesta or the crazy desert heat we head to thank didn’t matter, we got our loungers. We showed our appreciation by spending 3 long and lovely hours poolside, enjoying the day, the water and snacks from the tuckshop.

We were packed up and ready to go back to our chalet when we overheard another guest announcing excitedly that there were elephants moving towards the watering hole. We chivvied along and were rewarded with the sighting of a lifetime.

Almost on cue, as we got back to our homebase vantage point, 3 elephants came trotting in – literally trotting; I have never seen elephants move so fluidly – and entered the water on the edge closest to us. Then another 3… And a baby elephant… And a few more… And then a few more. They streamed in, a long line of all shapes and sizes, motivated to get to the watering hole and slotting in very neatly side-by-side so all could access.

There must have been 30 or more by the time the whole herd arrived. Some were drinking quietly at the edges, some splish-sploshing in the water, one was shooting water into the air from her trunk, two younger males were playfully locking tusks (until they got a stern look from a massive male).

And then, as organised as they had arrived, the leader started making tracks back into the bush, the herd restored its trail and within minutes they were gone again. I can’t recall having seen anything so mesmerising on any wildlife shows – and have seldom seen so well-executed a show as the effortless and seamless display the herd had put on for us.

Somehow our splish-splosh in the shower was less spectacular, but a necessary process to prepare for sundowners – on the chalet patio, watching some more “Watering Hole TV” – and another dinner on the terrace at the restaurant.

An early start the next day (necessitated by time constraints to get our mandatory Covid test results in time for our flight on Sunday) warranted an early night.

I happened to wake up in the middle of the night though and on the off-chance popped by head out the front door to see what was going on at the watering hole. Not much, just a mother and child set of rhino, being observed by some very diligent nature-mad humans. Good night, everyone!

Africa, Namibia

Travelogue Namibia 4: Palmwag

PALMWAG

29-30 September 2021

Banking on a relatively short (3 or so hour) next leg on our journey to Palmwag, there was time for a run along the beach and a hearty steak (Oryx), egg (scrambled) and hash potatoes (imitation of the night before) breakfast.

We pointed the car toward Henties Bay and began to drive the requisite 70km along the Skeleton Coast.

We stopped to view a shipwreck, grounded as recently as 2008; surprisingly recent given the assumption of modern nautical navigation technology as well as the dilapidated state of the rusted remains that bear testament to the brutal weather that probably drove the ship ashore in the first place.

We had little to do in Henties Bay with no sights or excursions to speak of – and not ready to eat again yet. However, it was a good opportunity to pitstop (last loo for 200km of dirt road, and we knew from firsthand experience that you never know what might happen on these treks) and stock up on roadtrip essentials (water and biltong for the drive; beers for arrival).

There was precious little to see and do on our route, so big ups to Chris for planning ahead for a lunch break in Uis, which was more or less halfway through the 420km we needed to do for the day. And was a “blink and you’ll miss it” town, at best.

Brandberg Rest Camp was modest and welcomed in equal parts; allowing a leg-stretch around the terrace and a laugh at the novelty decor (including an L-shaped pool table) while we waited for our toasted sarmies.

The second half of our drive seemed to stretch on and on, slowed as we navigated the mountains, with their narrower roads, uneven surfaces and twists and turns that we hadn’t had to negotiate on the flat, straight, endless desert roads. During our planning, we had read on several reviews that drivetimes are guesswork at best and it’s always advisable to add 1-2 hours allowance on each leg. True story!

We arrived in the Palmwag Lodge camp at around 17h30, much later than we had intended, thinking we’d arrive mid-afternoon and lounge around in the pool, to beat the heat.

Nevermind though, our glamping tents were spacious and comfortable, each with a table and benches on its private patio, and fully-kitted for self-catering, including steel wine glasses, which was all the sign we needed to open our bottle of red to accompany the sunset.

Palmwag is famous for the elephants in the surrounding area, so it was hardly surprising but still delightful when all it took for elephant-spotting was to walk into the open-air dining room for dinner!

The thatched A-frame had clearly been designed to provide for a panoramic view, with no more than a wooden bannister across the far end. The few diners already seated were watching as a herd of elephants casually made their way across the veld, with a perfect orange ball of sun setting over the silhouetted horizon behind them.

Dinner in the restaurant was a multi-course affair with wine pairings, which was beyond our current appetite so we opted for the a la carte pool bar restaurant instead. A far better fit, with wraps, burgers and melt-in-your-mouth Oryx steaks.

Thankfully, we’d already seen the elephants so there was no pressure get up early to go on a game drive, so we could lounge at the pool area after all, with a few beers and shooters to loosen up after a long day in the car.

The glamping tents offered the best night’s sleep! Equipped with anything and everything you’d expect in a hotel building (including a portable aircon), the beds were every bit as comfortable, with light duvets, warm blankets and soft pillows that worked with the dead-of-night darkness and middle-of-nowhere silence for optimal slumbering.

I was very surprised when a gardener pointed out some footprints, showing that elephants had walked through the camp the night before! They must have tip-toed for us not to hear them…

Africa, Namibia

Travelogue Namibia 3: Swakopmund

SWAKOPMUND

27-29 September 2021

With a spring in our step for the daily desert rise-and-shine on a work-free workday, we started the day with running a loop of our Sossusvlei camp, down to the main gate and across and around a neighbouring camp we discovered had been hiding behind the rocky outcrop against which our chalets were nestled. Thankfully we were out early enough to benefit from the flat and dry desert course, before the sun sapped all energy and any will to move at all.

Having worked up an appetite, we were grateful for the leftovers from the braai the night before, wolfing down our Oryx, fried onion and cheese steak rolls.

We packed the truck and hit the road, with 346km – of mostly dirt road – to contend with to get us to Swakopmund.

The Namibian countryside is so vast and varied that parts of the journey seem disconnected, like you’re on a completely different road on a completely different roadtrip to the one you were on a few kilometres back (or a few kilometres forward, for that matter). Sure, a lot of the view is arid, deserty desertness… But then a massive charcoal-coloured rocky outcrop will appear, or you’ll drive through a deep gorge that must have been a raging river at some point, or tightly overlapping golden hillocks that looks like someone took to the land from above with a massive rotary beater.

Most of the journey is flat and wide dirt road, dry and compacted to allow for some speed, but rocky enough to caution against going too fast lest your tyres pay the price. The bits through the gorge can be quite harrowing though; steep and narrow, and making us grateful for the stability of our big, heavy double-cab truck with its 4×4 capability that we hoped not to need.

Arriving in town, we had little trouble finding our Airbnb accommodation since it was adjacent to a substantial landmark, the sparkling new Platz Am Meer shopping centre. In a light and bright modern complex, our fully-kitted duplex promised to serve us well for the next couple of nights.

Hungry from a long day’s travel, we dumped our bags and headed straight out. Surprisingly, the temperature had dropped radically and it was barely 20 degrees! Fortunately not windy as Luderitz had been, so perfectly manageable with a change of holiday uniform, into jeans and a hoodie.

We found a cosy garden cafe called Wurstbude, across the road from the beach and sheltered by overhead vines, and settled in for a leisurely late lunch/early dinner, with a very cosmopolitan mix of samoosas, seafood, pizza and goulash.

Although it was chilly, it was still worth a walk back across the Paddock Gardens to the Platz Am Meer, and braving a seafront terrace table for the sunset. It was good to round off the day with making plans for the rest of our stay, before heading home for movie night.

TUESDAY

We awoke to a grey day. Not quite raining but not quite not raining, the air was thick and wet. Not great for sightseeing… But perfect for a morning run along the promenade.

With no clear intention, we ran around the beach side of the mall and past the pretty Paddock Gardens (that already had the sprinklers going).

Conveniently, there was a paved path that ran along the beach – literally, a few metres from the water, not the usual roadside pavement! – on the whole stretch between our mall and the waterfront and lighthouse on the other side of the strand. It was an easy run, at sea level and in a light mist from the cool morning. As an added bonus, our loop encompassed the local Park Run route, so another box incidentally ticked.

Juices flowing and appetite stoked, we showered and jumped in the car to go explore Walvis Bay.

The roads were good, but there was not much to see en route bar the odd sprout of a suburb on the sea side and sand, sand, sand on the inland side. We stopped for a photo opp at Dune 7, so-named (according to Google) because it is the 7th highest in the world, at around 383m. To give perspective, the Big Daddy at Sossusvlei the day before had been around 350m… Although it did look a lot bigger, probably because of the context of the setting.

There are 4×4 and quad biking excursions available at the dunes and, judging by the odd trail of footprints, some souls choose to hike up and barrel down, but we had a different agenda so kept moving to Walvis Bay.

We planned our arrival as a drive-through experience to see us to the quayside for some fresh seafood, but had to make an obligatory stop to photograph the flocks of flamingos treading gingerly in the shallow foreshore.

The modest waterfront had a handful of restaurants and shops; we chose the Anchors and were soon feasting on delicious fresh battered hake and fried calamari.

We had left Ian at home, working, so made our way back once our lunch was done.

After a rest stop, Chris and I drove to the Swakopmund old Town – no more than a few kilometers away – and used an online walking tour to self-guide through the quaint little town, making note of what to show our friends when we returned as a group later.

The town is remarkable since most of the buildings date to the turn of the last century and have been maintained in pristine condition. The town has all the old-world charm of yesteryear, but look like they were painted yesterday!

Being a holiday town, there is a high concentration of pubs and restaurants. The walking tour circuit had given us a chance to see a lot of them up close – and review the menus displayed outside.

With experience on our side, the evening’s running order was a relatively simple choice: Butcher & Brewer on the waterfront for sundowners (because it housed Swakopmund craft brewery), then Fachwerk beer garden (because it was the oldest building we’d seen, 1899) for pre-dinner and lastly Brauhaus for dinner (because the internet reviews placed it as undisputed best German food restaurant in town).

It was a winning combo. We were back at the waterfront well in time to enjoy a couple of draughts while lapping up the seaside view. Then we had a fun game of Giant Jenga in the Fachwerk beer garden, while the other patrons were participating in a very leisurely game of Bingo. Then the Brauhaus dazzled us with perfect schnitzels, eisbein and crunchy bratkartoflen (roast hash potatoes).

Africa, Namibia

Travelogue Namibia 2: Sossusvlei

SOSSUSVLEI

25-27 September 2021

Leaving behind lovely Luderitz, we hit the road to take us into the desert at Sossusvlei. The roads in Namibia are really well maintained – which must be no mean feat with the wind and the desert constantly trying to cover them – but also very economically distributed between landmark towns.

Consequently, we needed to retrace our route, past the Ghost Town we had passed on our way in and then visited properly the previous day, and about another 100km inland to get to the turn off to move north towards Sossusvlei.

This new route, although a main artery, was a dirt road, which slowed our progress somewhat. With the first item on the day’s itinerary being lunch at a German restaurant pitstop, Helmeringhausen, there may have been sense of humour issues had it not been for our holiday high spirits, a downloaded playlist (we had already learnt that consistent cell network is not a thing in Namibia) and the benefit of experience meaning we’d planned and packed padkos snacks.

Once again, our landscape view shifted from light sand to rocky outcrops to the sort of desert you see in the movies (dark peppercorn knobbles of shrubs on a red sand scalp) and then to the golden longer brush you expect in a game reserve back home. With a low mountain range – we suspected to be the Tirasberge – framing on all sides, the view could contend to be what Uncle Peter would call a vistarama.

We attempted the much-talked-about game of I Spy, but once we’d gone through Sand, Rock, Fence, Road, Sign, Sky and Telephone Poles, the options were pretty much to start again or quit. We chose to quit while we were ahead.

Arriving in the booming metropolis of Helmeringhausen revealed nothing more than a handful of buildings; a general dealer, a house, a post office, the hotel/curio shop/restaurant lunch stop and a 2 pump service station … Which proved usefully-timed as Chris spotted our back passenger tyre was flat as we left the restaurant.

The garage attendant popped a plug into the tyre and we were off, crisis averted.

Except it wasn’t.

About 100km later our back driver-side tyre burst. Argh!

Fortunately, the boys knew what to do and – besides a big mission to get the jack in the exact right place to hoist up the massive car – it was a relatively smooth operation to change out the dud tyre for the spare, which had been nested under the car.

We had been very fortunate to break down somewhere with cell phone signal – which had been at best erratic on all roads – so I was able to make myself useful and contact Avis  Car Rental to report the mishap and get instructions.

The lady at the Avis call centre found a matching tyre at Maltahohe, 80km down the road (and not a whole lot off our route) and we dutifully obliged; spending a half hour in another of Namibia’s tiny towns while the tyre was replaced and the spare renested.

The detour meant that we arrived in our homebase for the next two nights much later than expected. It was after 18h30 and we were chasing last light to get safely to our haven in the very remote and daunting terrain. We were relieved and delighted to arrive at the Desert Quiver Camp in one piece (and 5 functional tyres) as the darkness enveloped the road.

Sossusvlei and surrounds are famous for the dunes and the desert experience, which are immensely popular with international tourists and nature buffs alike. Consequently, accommodation options vary from camping to glamping to eye-wateringly priced luxury camps. We had taken our chances with the reasonably-priced chalets at Desert Quiver… And our bet had paid off.

Simple but tasteful, modern and very comfortable 2-sleeper chalets with aircon (essential!), kitchenette, braai facilities, and generously spaced for unobstructed views of the desert on all sides, with a serviced clubhouse with pub and pool, if you felt social.

After a fairly harrowing extended day on the road we declined the option to drive 4km down the road to Sossusvlei Lodge for buffet dinner, opting rather to have a sundowner at the pub and fashion a picnic dinner from our leftovers from Luderitz and our padkos supplies.

Great decision, leaving us to appreciate the great outdoors and continue with our newly-acquired amateur star-gazing hobby while Chris stole the show, whipping up fried cheesy hotdog toasties on the hotplate in our kitchenette.

Awaking to an already-warm 07h00, we applauded ourselves for heeding the advice of the receptionist the previous night; she had warned us that leaving for the dunes too late could ruin the experience because of the oppressive heat.

With fruit and leftover hotdogs in the fridge, it was quick n easy to get a slap-up breakfast together and hit the road.

We were ideally placed, with the Gate to the Namib-Naukluft National Park a few kilometres down the road (just beyond the restaurant we had declined the previous night). However, once in the park it was another 60km to get to the shuttle that transports tourists around the dunes.

The shuttle drivers were very friendly, got us packed into the game drive vehicle efficiently and before you could say “so much sand”, we were trundling across dry salt pans and over the silky red sand dunes to get to the Dead Vlei valley with its graveyard of trees, unable to survive the dry saltiness of the ground in which they had been seeded.

The Big Daddy Dune arched above and was a 1 – 1.5 hour hike to complete end-to-end but, with the sand already as hot as it was, there was no incentive to commit to more than a few mid-dune pics for posterity and perspective. No regrets; it was an awe-inspiring landscape and the magnitude and rugged beauty can be appreciated from any level!

The shuttle then took us across the plain to the smaller curved Big Momma dune, which sheltered a watering hole below. We were able to walk from the parking area where the water was little but a mirage on the horizon, and cross the caked clay to the water’s edge. The driver told us that when the floods come, the entire basin gets filled – way beyond the area where we were currently parked – demonstrating exactly how extreme the ecosystem is.

By then it was past 11h00, over 35 degrees and a long time since breakfast, so we jumped back in the car, retracing our footsteps and stopping for the occasional photo as we drove back to the permit office at the Gate for lunch in the adjacent restaurant.

We got back to camp at around 13h00 and since we’d been admin-forward in ordering a braai kit from reception in the morning (they offered a shopping service where you select meats, veg, salads and breads from a checklist and they deliver in the evening), we had absolutely nothing to do all afternoon besides relax at the clubhouse and enjoy the pool.

We thanked our lucky stars that we had gotten all our sightseeing done early; by now it was baking hot – around 40 degrees – and there was a blustering hot wind. The wind was so strong and so consistent that I had to position myself to sit facing into it to avoid a faceful of hair like Cousin It from Adams Family. It was also so hot that it was like having a massive hairdryer pointing at you. Fortunately we didn’t have to lift a finger because everything would have been an effort!

Once our braai pack arrived, we set about making our fire. The pack included a homemade firelighter that required us to gather dry sticks from nearby bushes to act as kindling for the wooden logs provided.

We had ordered generously, so feasted on delicious Oryx steaks, Namibian lamb chops and local wors, with foil-wrapped potatoes and onions as well as tubs of coleslaw and pasta salad. A fitting finish to a fantastic day.

on the move