Cape Town – Part 1

We deliberately arrived in Cape Town a few days before the Golden Oldies hockey commenced so that we could recover from any jet lag and, if we wanted to, be as idle as we liked.

We again favoured an Airbnb home. It seemed to be ridiculously cheap, but we discovered that South Africa is generally much cheaper than New Zealand. It was in Muizenberg (pronounced Mew-zen-berg), a few km to the South of the CBD. It has a sandy beach that is popular with surfers and a generally laid back 'vibe'. We were hosted by Sam, a historian, who is teaching at the University of Western Cape and researching a most depressing subject; something like State Sponsored Violence. Apparently the South African government was a great practitioner of this before the end of apartheid. Unfortunately we never met his partner, Charlene, as she was away working as a safari guide.

Few of the properties in Muizenberg village bothered with the spiky fences and razor wire we saw in Johannesburg, but they all sported notices advertising alarm systems or the use of an armed response service. A house in a nearby street was robbed during our stay, and Bill saw the responder driving furiously along the narrow streets. Yes, he did carry an automatic pistol.

To avoid the inconvenience and doubtful safety of public transport we rented a car. Having read a review of a really cheap car rental company, which was reported as charging customers for almost invisible scratches, not returning the deposit, etc., we went for one of the international firms, Thrifty. It was still a very reasonable rate, so we splashed out for a satnav. It was a Garmin device and it worked perfectly on our first journey to Muizenberg. After that it always got in a tangle somewhere along the route. Sometimes it sorted itself out, and sometimes we had to refer to a map on the tablet and override the Garmin's maniac instructions. We have a Tomtom at home, and we will not be switching brands!

If you drive in South Africa you will quickly come across parking wardens. These individuals are not there to give you a ticket, but to watch over your car while you are, say, walking on the beach or dining. They generally will point out an empty space for you, and help you reverse out when you leave. Sam explained that some of them are employed, but at a ridiculously low wage, and they survive on tips. Others are entrepreneurs who have obtained a high-vis jacket from somewhere and just turn up. The usual gratuity is R1 or R2. At roughly R9 to the NZ dollar, that's not a lot. We had cause to be grateful to one of these wardens, who came into a restaurant to advise that a car had been left with its lights on. He got a larger tip!

Cape Town is famous for its eating houses, especially for seafood. The coastal communities of Muizenberg and southwards are well furnished with everything from cheap-as-chips takeaways to fine dining. It is not difficult to find very good, inexpensive food.

For our first evening we found a Mozambican café that only had 6 dishes on the menu. And 4 of them were afterthoughts. Basically you choose 8 prawns or 12 prawns. They are huge, almost big enough to call lobsters, and served with a delicious sauce. Eve thought 8 would be enough, but gluttonous Bill went for the BIG plate. And we shared a salad (one of the 4 afterthoughts) to persuade ourselves we had eaten a balanced meal.

For breakfasts we walked along to the end of the street, turned left, and barely 150m away was a café called “Joon”. All the staff were cheerful, the coffee was strong and the cooked breakfast was irresistible. There are breakfast cafés near the beach with great reviews, but we couldn't see how the extra walk could possibly be worth it.

One of Cape Town's attractions for the natural historian is the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens. It is particularly well known for its collection of Fynbos (the first syllable rhymes with “rain”) plants. The Cape Floral Region is one of the richest areas for plants when compared to any similar sized area in the world. It represents less than 0.5% of the area of Africa but is home to nearly 20% of the continent’s flora. Unfortunately we were there in the Autumn, so few plants were in bloom. In the Spring it would be much more colourful. Nonetheless, the guided walk was well worthwhile. It is very tempting to go back in springtime and take one of the guided Fynbos tours while the proteas and other bushes are in bloom. They are reputed to make a wonderful display.

 One of the plants that was in bloom was this rare, yellow bird of paradise flower, bred at Kirstenbosch and named after Nelson Mandela.

The gardens are home to quite a few birds and our birds list got properly under way. Nothing rare, and, alas, no sunbirds or sugarbirds.

The tea room in the gardens is rather pricey by local standards, but the food and service were very good. As well as a yummy snack, Eve selected one inedible item from the menu - the tea room's own cook book.

The gardens are home to a thriving population of horned guinea fowl.  This mother and her chicks are foraging amongst the tea rooms' tables.

A very popular day trip is to Cape Point Nature Reserve. We saw rather more of suburban Cape Town than we should have, thanks to the eccentricity of the satnav, but we did manage to cross the peninsula, drive through Hout Bay and South to the reserve. We saw several signs warning us not to feed the baboons, several of them in quite built up areas. When we did come across a baboon troop in the road we were well into the countryside – and we didn't feed them. They were accompanied by a human wearing thick clothing and a face mask. We couldn't decide whether he was monitoring the baboons, or had driven them onto the road so the tourists would see some wildlife.

By the time we got to the nature reserve it was raining, but we paid our entrance fee anyway. It was past lunch time and the reserve boasted a café. In the café we met some other Golden Oldies from the Havant Cavaliers. Luckily there was a fairly sheltered spot where we could munch our sandwiches and fend off the starlings.

The red-winged starlings (the one with a grey head is a female) will eat from you hand or, if you do not offer them a hand, will 'buzz' you and rip a piece of bread off the sandwich as you lift it towards your mouth!

There was no shelter at the top of the funicular by the lighthouse. We got the full benefit of the wind and the rain. And the cloud was so low that we couldn't see the view.

Back in the car, we set out to explore the reserve. We visited the Cape of Good Hope. After reading about it in so many stories and seeing it on so many maps the reality was a little disappointing. But the wildlife wasn't. We saw our first ostriches on the beach. Does that classify them as seabirds? ;-) There were also seals and many true seabirds.

A waterlogged ostrich

The Cape of Good Hope is well populated with cormorants, and there are seals on the further islet.

Down a road to the East of the Cape we saw our first antelope – bonteboks. They are unmistakeable with their white 'faces', but they were not very close and the photographs were disappointing. We also had an eland leap onto the road in front of us. He or she capered along the tarmac ahead of us while Eve groped frantically for a camera. Alas, the frolicking stopped and the beast trotted off into the undergrowth before she could get a picture. Later on we saw many eland, but none so high-spirited as this one.

A southern boubou

Thankfully, the day we went to see the penguins the weather was much better. At Boulder Beach there is a well-populated colony that is well used to human visitors so they are not shy. Until recently they were given the unflattering English name, jackass penguin, but now they are referred to as African penguins. They still bray like a donkey, though.

An African (nee jackass) penguin

Who says penguins can't climb trees?

Maybe there's a roster - two hours sitting on the land being photographed and one hour relaxing in the sea?

It would be unthinkable to visit South Africa and not sample the wines. We entered a liquor shop attached to a supermarket and chose two bottles each, based solely on the names. We both selected a Tall Horse wine, one chardonnay and one shiraz, with a picture of a giraffe on the label. They were R42 or R43 each – about $5 NZ. Eve located a sauvignon blanc for only R26 ($3), but I splurged R99 ($11) on a bottle of Fat Bastard. This is actually a well known, premium pinotage. Over a series of evenings at the Airbnb, with a little help from Sam, we drank our purchases. They were all good wines, particularly the Fat Bastard.

As you probably know, Cape Town is dominated by Table Mountain. There are paths for the fit and strong, and a cable car for the weak and idle. The cable car travels slowly and rotates while it dangles in space. As an acrophobe (look it up!), Bill could not face the cable car, and Eve was not enthusiastic either. Walking up and back would take several hours, assuming we were fit enough, so we conquered Signal Hill instead, by driving to the summit.

A handy frame for your picture, in case you forgot what you were photographing.

We enjoyed great views of the city, but most folk at the top of Signal Hill were involved in tandem paragliding, either as providers or passengers. We watched them gallop along a 'runway' and lift off as the parachute gripped the air.

"You're mad, I tell you."

An even more accomplished aviator on Signal Hill.  This rock kestrel completely ignored the humans below its perch.

Bill's brother, Nigel, keeps in contact with scores of folk around the world. One of these is Evon Smuts-Rogers in Cape Town. Nigel wrote to her and thus engineered an introduction for us to a local resident. He even remembered that Bill had met Evon once in the UK. We worked out that it was Xmas/New Year 1977-8. The conclusion of these machinations was an invitation to meet Evon and Jerry in the British Hotel in Simon's Town. We imagined a drink or two at the bar.

We arrived at the appointed time – and the hotel was closed. Fortunately we had Evon's cellphone number. “Yes, we're upstairs. I'll come down and let you in.” It turned out that the building was no longer a hotel, but had been converted into apartments. We then had a most enjoyable evening with Evon and Jerry, and nattered on so long that we got to our chosen restaurant after the kitchen's closing time. Luckily the owner suggested that they could manage a pizza – and very good it was, too. Another example of the kindness we received from so many people during our holiday.

Sunday arrived, and it was time to transfer to a posh hotel for the Golden Oldies Hockey Festival. We said goodbye to Sam. We had been very comfortable in his house and had seen our first sunbirds in the tiny back yard.

We arrived at the hotel too early to go straight into our room, so we stored our luggage with the other early arrivals' kit and Bill set off to return the rental car to Thrifty's city depot. The horrible Garmin satnav kept the worst for last. It should have been a 2-minute drive, but the idiot device directed him firmly towards the airport, which was in the opposite direction! Luckily he saw a safe place to park, switched off the mendacious machine and worked out a proper route from a map on the tablet.

On returning the car it was inspected for damage. Alas, there is a round piece in the front panel that can be removed to allow a tow rope to be passed through and attached directly to the chassis. The piece was missing. We have insurance to cover a rental car 'excess', but the inspector and his colleague could fix it if Bill just dropped R200 on the driver's seat, which would avoid a lot of paperwork. We realise now that it was a scam and the piece was almost certainly in one of their pockets, but Bill took the simple way out and paid up.

Now we were all set for the hockey festival.