I hate India.
Before we’ve even packed our bags I hate the fawning from fellow travellers. It seems obligatory to shout your love for India from the rooftops. Obscure villages are praised for their lack of tourists (are they missing the irony?), travel advice arrives unbidden and brave is the traveller who’ll admit they really just couldn’t be bothered by gawking at a billion people and their assorted detritus. Enough already please.
I hate the taxis in Delhi; touts straight-faced lying to secure our fare. I hate the stinking train stations, where bare-footed men sweep piles of human shit off the rails, so that the next train can trundle in and replace it. I hate the mangy monkeys, the filthy platforms, the unrelenting lecherous stares and the sham sadhus waving their begging bowls.
But I love the vibrancy of this chaotic, crowded country. Always bustling, scheming, watching, conniving… always something on the go. I love the life lived on the street, where pots spill onto pavements and dead grandmothers travel home by train. I love the lunacy of the cities, where a brightly painted elephant brings rush-hour traffic to a halt and cars flow like water around cattle contentedly chewing the cud in the middle of the road.
I love the trains, ferrying millions – literally, millions – of people each and every day from distant corners. Jaisalmer, Rishikesh, Pondicherry, Varanasi… exotic names from far-off places. I love the chai-wallahs who advertise their small steaming cups of tea in a singsong lullaby late at night, as we rattle our way from Udaipur to Katni. I love the clean white sheets of the Gwalior Super Express, starched and left neatly for us in an envelope; a bedtime story from the Indian Railway Catering and Tourism Corporation.
But I hate the rickshaw drivers who pounce on us the second we step off the train, shouting at us in Hindi (do I look like a local?) and tugging at my shirtsleeve. I hate the con man that meets us as we arrive back at the station, high on the sights of India. “Your train is cancelled,” he assures us. “All trains delayed by seven hours,” he promises. “Your carriage abducted by aliens,” he swears. “Come with me, I will help you”. I hate the lies that make me mistrust the helpful. I hate the cynical traveller I see in the mirror.
I love the sights and scents of India: parathas sizzling in garlic and oil on a sidewalk, steaming naans straight from the tandoor. A handful of pakoras, spicy and oily, held happily in a handful of newspaper. I love the temples that seem from a different world than the filthy rubbish-strewn streets, and the glimpse of an iridescent sari as an elegant woman picks her way through the traffic. I love the peacocks that run wild in the countryside, like our own guinea fowl all dressed up for the ball. I love the ancient science of the Jaipur observatory, the regal Amber Fort, the ethereal Taj Lake Hotel, the sensual carvings at Khajuraho, and the romantic Taj Mahal. Oh god, the Taj Mahal. Words cannot describe it. Just go. Go and see it. But beware.
I hate the man without uniform who ushers us onto the train at Agra, hassling and hustling us, shifting sheets and setting up seats. Setting the scene. His instructions a rattle like the wheels on the tracks. I hate my polite southern suburbs manners that make me turn from my bag to make space in the aisle. I hate the void that appears where he and my bag once were. Forsaking material goods may help me reach moksha and break the Hindu cycle of rebirth, but getting back to Delhi to catch my flight will be tricky with no passport, no money.
I hate the man who left us like this on the platform. I hate him for bringing my wife’s anxious tears. But perhaps Shiva, the Destroyer, will help, sending him back to earth as one of the rats that forage in the fetid railway tracks below us.
But all is not lost. As love would have it, the Indians are kind, I find. I love the locals who see just a person in need, not a traveller to be fleeced: the stationmaster who opens his wallet for our fare to Delhi, his deputy who offers a phone to call home. I love the working-class men in sleeper class. Ah yes, crowded sleeper class, I knew it well.
I love the Sikh who hands over his mobile and refuses my rupees. The men who can’t afford our taxi fare, but beg us to have dinner with them. I love them, and the taxi driver who hears our sorry tale of thievery and is angered enough to share it with any rickshaw driver that will listen. I love the Hotel Swisston Palace, buried in the backstreets of Karol Bagh, where we find clean sheets and masala chai at 2am.
I hate the traffic of Delhi that keeps us from the South African High Commission. A hateful herd of honking, spluttering asthmatic traffic that goes nowhere and accomplishes nothing.
But we’re saved by a smile… the sweet smile of Ntombi Moyo; God’s gift to the Department of Home Affairs. In a World Cup of efficiency she’d be banned from entering, lest it skew the competition. I love the South African accent we find in the lobby; the warm smiles and local twang. How do I love thee, let me count the phrases.
I hate the Foreigners’ Regional Registration Office at 2.58pm on a Friday. The paper-pusher at counter #5 who picks her nose and throws our papers back at us. I hate the glint of tears I see forming in my wife’s eyes… useful though they may be. Our plane leaves in 7 hours; a passport with no visa means another four days in Delhi.
I love that gent whose name I never caught; a gentle, moustachioed man who slips us in to use the government photocopier and eases our run through the red tape. A bureaucrat with compassion? Who’d have thought? I love the taxi that collects us from the hotel, bags packed and passports stamped. I love the sound of flight QR584 touching down on South African tarmac.
I’d love to go back to India; holy rivers and high mountains still wait to be seen, but – I hate to say – I’m not yet sure I will, at least not with a backpack on my back. Perhaps in the next life? We’ll see what the gods – all 330 million of them – have in store.
First published in Go! magazine, July 2010
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There was only one road, not two. It didn’t really diverge, so much as meander ponderously up the northern side of the valley. But there was a yellow wood, many small glades of yellowwoods, in fact. In the bright autumn sunshine, long I stood and looked down the path as far as I could.
Unlike Robert Frost though I could see to the end, for this path didn’t bend in the undergrowth but led ever upwards to the magnificent massif above me. Five kilometres wide, nearly one thousand metres from base to summit, and home to the world’s fourth-highest waterfall (the Tugela plunges 614 metres, if you must know), the wall of basalt known as the Amphitheatre is – quite simply – spectacular.
And all the more so, now that the clouds that had shrouded it for the past three days had the good grace to lift for our only day of wandering in the Royal Natal National Park.
Day walks abound in this, the most popular section of the Ukhahlamba-Drakensberg World Heritage Site, but for first-timers like myself there is really only one to consider: the Tugela Gorge. Wandering up the valley for 11-kilometres, the path offers spring flowers, rolling hills of grassland that are beautiful beyond writing, pockets of Yellowwood forest, stands of bright red KwaZulu-Natal Bottlebrush and, finally, fantastic views of the spectacular Amphitheatre.
Along the way there are waterfalls to stand under, caves to scramble through, ladders to clamber up and crystal-clear river pool to skinny-dip in… just watch out for fellow walkers!
It’s one of the finest days I’ve ever spent in the mountains, and I was sorry to leave. The clouds were building again and it was time to seek shelter. The hills around the Park are filled with sprawling hotels and self-catering cottages, but we’d chosen the playfully named Catfish Caterpillar Cookhouse.
Built early last century out of rough-hewn sandstone by renowned local stonemason Otto Zunckel, the Cookhouse was built to last, with thick stone walls to keep the heat in and the chilly winter nights out. Three large St. Bernard’s are on hand to welcome trail-weary travellers who usually head straight to the cosy pub for a pint or two.
Me, I chose to use the last rays of day to wander to the edge of the Oliviershoek Pass for one last glimpse of dragon’s back. As the sun hid behind the Amphitheatre to bathe the Free State in its final glow, I looked out over the Royal Natal National Park and felt sure, not doubting, that I should ever come back. Following that path has, indeed, made all the difference.
IF YOU GO…
Where it is: On the crest of the Oliviershoek Pass, overlooking the sweep of the northern Drakensberg.
Why go there: It’s a great base for exploring the Royal Natal National Park and surrounding areas. Thick stone walls and creaky wooden floors speak the history of this old trading store. The Golden Gate National Park and the arty town of Clarens are an hour’s drive away if you want a change of scenery
What it offers: Seven non-smoking rooms in a mix of doubles and twins with a bath or shower, along with a family suite that sleeps four. A Jetmaster keeps the communal lounge cosy when the winter snows arrive, but on balmy evenings the Adirondack chairs on the stoep, or the garden gazebo, are the places to enjoy your sundowners.
What it's like: A cosy, but quiet guesthouse where you’ll spend your days exploring and your nights by the fire. A convivial pub comes complete with board games and upright piano for festive evenings. There are a few rough edges, and it’s a little close to the road, but for the price it’s a value-for-money getaway.
And the food: A small menu scribbled on the blackboard each evening. Fresh Drakensberg trout is a popular permanent feature, in between steaming pastas fit for hungry hikers and slabs of pan-fried rump steak. Not many frills, but hearty home cooking. The wine-list has bagged a few awards, but some vintages may be out of stock. Best to simply go and explore the small cellar.
Rates: From R360 per person sharing, bed-and-breakfast. Lunch and dinner are a la carte.
Getting there: Turn off the N3 at Harrismith and follow signs for R712. Before the Sterkfontein Dam turn left onto the R74 towards Bergville. The Cookhouse is 23-kilometres further on, at the top of the Oliviershoek Pass.
Contact: Visit www.cookhouse.co.za or call 087 940 6860/1.
First published in the Sunday Times, May 2010 |
Thu 24 Jun 2010 |
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Rambling around Rodrigues |
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“Control your kite! Control your kite!”
At least I think that’s what the instructor was yelling at me as a 10m2 parabola of sail dragged me face first through the (thankfully warm) waters off Rodrigues. With one of the world’s largest enclosed coral lagoons to play in, the island of Rodrigues is kite-surfing paradise for those who know their control bar from their elbow.
I, on the other hand, didn’t. But as I was shaking the water from my ears it was easy to see the attraction of skimming across aquamarine seas. Brightly coloured kites bobbed and weaved across a bright sky scudded with clouds, a scene mirrored below in the palette of blues of the Rodrigues lagoon. Suntanned kiters flew across the water wearing enormous grins. I wanted to be that person. I wanted that smile.
Unfortunately, the joys of being pulled at speed by an unhealthy amount of sailcloth only struck on my last day in Rodrigues and, as good as they are, the instructors at OsmoWings kite-surfing school couldn’t transform me from pathetic to pro in a single two-hour lesson. Luckily, there is more to the island than sail-powered adventure.
From the coast the road runs steeply up to Mont Limon, the highest point on the island, with small vegetable fields and patches of forest dotting the roadside. Unlike the larger Mauritius, there are no acres of sugarcane here; just small-scale farmers and natural bush. It’s a peaceful rural picture, with walking trails around and across the island offering days of undisturbed hiking. Locals greet you with a friendly bonjour, but almost always speak a smattering of English to help with directions.
An uninhabited paradise when Portuguese sailors first discovered it in 1528, the lagoon thronged with dugong and teemed with sea life. In the island’s valleys, the hills were grazed by giant tortoises to the sound of solitaires, Rodrigues’ answer to the dodo.
Unsurprisingly, with the arrival of seafarers the lonely solitaire met a similar fate at the hands of hungry sailors. The tallest forests were cut down for ship repairs and the giant tortoises were loaded on board as food for the long journey home or – bizarrely – boiled for their oil.
The island was changed forever, but a small piece of this pristine landscape is slowly being recreated at the Francois Leguat Giant Tortoise and Caves Reserve in the southwest of the island. Indigenous trees are being replanted, a sanctuary for the endemic Golden Fruit Bat has been established, and giant tortoises from the Seychelles are being bred to slowly repopulate this corner on the Plaine Corail.
The tortoises here may be for conservation, not cuisine, but Rodrigues still offers some of the best Creole cooking of the Mascarenes; a sultry mix of French, Asian and African flavours, the island’s food is both exotic and affordable.
“Every Rodriguan will ask for their fish at dinnertime,” laughs Marie-Louise at Villa Mon Tresor. “Maybe a little roast pork too on special occasions, but every day there must be fish on the plate!”
Like many women on the island, Marie-Louise offers Creole meals at a table d’hote – literally, a ‘table of the house’. Although usually attached to a guesthouse, visitors are always welcome to join the family and other guests for the meal of the day, turning a simple and affordable meal into an island experience.
“I learned most of my skills and recipes from my mother,” says Marie-Louise. “Cooking runs in my family, and I still go and see what my mother is doing in the kitchen. Then I bring the ideas here to my kitchen and play a little bit more,” she laughs.
Creole cooking generally revolves around fragrant curries eaten with maize, red haricot beans and tangy salads of green papaya, onion, chives and tomato. Rodriguans like a bit of spice with their food, but the fiery local chilis are usually served on the side. With the island lying some 600 kilometres east of Mauritius – next stop; Australia – local produce is unsurprisingly king here. Maize comes from local fields, fish is caught in the lagoon that morning and salads are from the garden.
The regular Saturday market in the capital Port Mathurin is a good place to size up the island’s bounty, from local honey to the island’s famous baskets and hats woven from the Pandanus plant.
However, the undisputed king of Rodriguan cuisine is the beady-eyed octopus. As soon as the tide starts to fall the local fisherwomen make their way out to the fringing reef.
Metal spears in hand, they prise and pry for the eight-legged payday and invariably return with half-a-dozen slippery cephalopods slung over their shoulder. Hung out to dry across the island, they make their way into delicate curries and piquant salads, as well as onto planes to nearby Mauritius.
One of the best places to see fishermen at work is in the South East Marine Protected Area, where locals are being taught the value of sustainable fishing. The lagoon stretches far from shore here, providing happy hunting grounds for octopus-fishermen and the traditional net boats. Local boats will happily take you out on the low tide to watch the teams of fishermen in their carefully synchronised net dance, seine-netting schools of fish or scaring shoals of unwary carangue (similar to Yellowtail) to their fate.
While the fishermen stick to the shallows, deep passes break through the lagoon and offer great diving, dropping quickly from waist-deep water to 40 metre walls. Game fish patrol the depths and pristine coral is a welcome change to the dynamite- and sun-damaged corals of other Indian Ocean islands.
Parts of the reef also offer easy and safe snorkelling, although the best spots are only reachable by boat.
Say hello, then, to Christophe Meunier – local artist, boat skipper, fishing expert, snorkelling instructor and tour guide. He’s a man who wears many hats, but it’s his T-shirt that catches my eye the moment we hop on-board his open fishing boat: “No Stress” is emblazoned across his chest.
It’s seems a fitting slogan for a day on the waters off this paradise island. He smiles, and hands me a hand-line as we troll for carangue destined for the curry at this mother’s table d’hote. The wind is calm on the lagoon this morning, so he guns the engine and our boat leaps towards the popular Ile aux Cocos.
One of a number of protected islands surrounding Rodrigues, the slender Ile aux Cocos provides a refuge for thousands of migrating seabirds; a holiday destination where they are safe to mate, breed and feed before heading north again for the winter.
Elegant Lesser Noddies, snow-white Fairy Terns and their darker cousins, the Sooty Tern, fill the sky and the casuarina trees that line the beaches. Long free of predators here, the birds happily preen and pout a metre or two from two-legged tourists, only squawking their unhappiness if I venture too near their nest.
“The island is called ‘Cocos,’ because of the eggs,” the park guide Marie-Claude mentions over her shoulder as we wander across the island, “not because of any coconuts!” Just a few hundred metres wide, by 1500m long, a third of it is for feathered visitors only. “For the rest of the island, tourists are welcome to explore on their own.”
I don’t do too much exploring though. Ile aux Cocos offers one of the best swimming beaches on Rodrigues and with a local pandanus hat to keep the bright tropical sun out of my eyes, the calm blue waters of the lagoon seem to stretch on forever. In the distance, a handful of kites leap and dive on their way downwind. Perhaps next time I’ll make it out of the water.
TRAVEL ADVISORY
- Air Mauritius is the best way to reach Rodrigues: the airline flies daily from Johannesburg to Mauritius, and on to the island a 90-minute flight away. For more information and to book, visit www.airmauritius.com.
- Accommodation is well priced, and ranges from simple family-run guesthouses like Auberge Anse aux Anglais to small resorts such as the Mourouk Ebony Hotel. Restaurant meals are a similar price to South Africa.
- Rodrigues uses the Mauritian Rupee. 1 rupee = R0.25
- To plan your visit, go to www.tourism-rodrigues.mu or visit your travel agent. To really get a feel for the island, plan to spend four to seven days exploring.
- South African visitors do not need a visa for stays less than 60 days.
First published in the Saturday Star, May 2010 |
Top BIlling magazine asked a selection of writers, experts and commentators on their tips for living 'in good taste'... here are my few cents for travelling in good taste.
Travel with purpose: Don't just go on holiday, travel with an objective in mind. See your favourite band perform live. Dine at elBulli. Catch a glimpse of an endangered species. Gaze at a landscape under threat.
Take the train: The jury's still out on carbon offsetting, but you can keep your eco-footprint light by travelling by train when in Europe. You'll save some carbon, see the countryside and avoid wasting time in airports.
Croatia: It's the hottest destination in the Mediterranean right now. Get there before the Brits turn it into another Provence.
Be a locavore: Don't bother with mass-produced anonymous food while travelling. Seek out local markets and neighbourhood bistros for an authentic experience. Ask your hotelier where they would go for dinner.
All aboard: Cruising offers some of the best value-for-money in luxury travel. Small ships like Crystal Serenity, or the intimate Yachts of Seabourn, offer a five-star experience you won't forget in a hurry.
Go nowhere: Without your Moleskine, the famous notebook used by Hemingway and Picasso. They're indispensable for jotting ideas, directions and 'must-sees'. The new City Notebooks include travel guide info along with space for your scribbles.
Praat die taal: Learning a few words of the local language should be step #2 after booking your ticket. Shouting in English won't get you as far as a friendly bonjour or bom dia.
Czech it out: Moravia offers some of the best wine touring on the continent. Enjoy all the romance of a European wine experience at a fraction of the cost. Stay at the chic Noem Arch Hotel.
The white stuff: Colombia may have had a bad rep as a dodgy destination, but the capital Bogota is tipped to become the new Buenos Aires, with its flourishing culinary scene and buzzing nightlife.
Stay at home. We're too quick to book a ticket to somewhere exotic. Set your sights closer to home and explore what millions of foreigners fly here to discover. Splash out on a five-star Kruger escape, hire a Harley and tour the Route 62 winelands or book a short-break to Cape Town/Jozi/Durban and hit the streets as a local tourist.
Appeared in Top Billing magazine, May 2010 |
The sun is setting steadily beyond the heavily forested hills, sending a sword of saffron light across the ocean. Sailing boats out in the bay make the most of the warm breezes before heading home for the evening. There are only a handful of swimmers left in the water, but sculpted young lifeguards still patrol the beach.
I debate a last-minute swim, but decide that the warm beach is a better bet, so I scrunch my toes deep into the coarse honey-coloured sands and think to myself: could this really be Hong Kong?
The sands of Repulse Bay are the perfect spot to revive feet trail-sore after a day of walking in Hong Kong. And no, I don’t mean pounding the pavements in search of the next great bargain. I’ve done that already on my four-day foray to this Special Administrative Region of China, but a day spent exploring the far reaches of Hong Kong Island proves that there is so much more to the city than retail therapy.
Chances are, when you think of Hong Kong you are picturing the view from atop Victoria Peak, gazing down at the city. In the foreground is glitzy Central, home to the financial powerhouses of the city. Tucked amongst the neon is Lan Kwai Fong where you’ll find the city’s best nightlife and some great restaurants to boot.
Victoria Harbour is cluttered with ferries, sampans and tourist boats; while beyond the water the cheek-by-jowl skyscrapers of Kowloon stretch northwards to the border with the ‘real’ China. Nathan Road, night markets, restaurants in Tsim Tsha Tsui and the waterfront Avenue of Stars walkway all wait to be explored.
But if you turn away from that view you’re faced with another Hong Kong entirely. Look behind you and you’ll discover a Hong Kong of crescent bays, wide beaches and calm seas. A Hong Kong of rolling hills and jagged peaks, pushed up 150-million years ago by volcanic forces, and now covered with thick forest. This is the Hong Kong few people tell you about.
“This path is named Lugard’s Walk,” says Marco Foehn over his shoulder as we wander high above the city. “It was named for Sir Frederick Lugard, the 14th Governor of Hong Kong.”
A retired banker, Marco left the spreadsheets and speculation behind to start ‘Walk Hong Kong’ tours that show visitors a greener side to his adopted home. “Although we do offer tours through the city and the markets, so few people realise that there are many places in Hong Kong where you can completely escape the city,” said Marco.
And after a day or three in the throng of the city I was only too happy to spend some time exploring the hills of Hong Kong Island. One of Marco’s most popular walks is through the Pok Fu Lam Country Park, meandering seven kilometres from the tram station on Victoria Peak down to Aberdeen in the south.
Gliding up the impossibly steep rails of the Peak Tram it’s staggering to think that labourers would carry rich colonists up to their hilltop mansions in sedan chairs. Luckily for today’s walkers, it’s all downhill from here and the path leads gently through thick forest on wide trails. Joggers and cyclists speed past us as we take it easy and stop regularly to admire the views over the city.
“Did you know Hong Kong is home to over 460 species of birds?” asks Marco, just as one of the many Black Kites that have been playing on the thermals swoops below us. White-Bellied Sea Eagles, closely related to our own African Fish Eagle, are also common in the area. “In these forests and on the Mainland you’ll also find more than 230 types of butterfly.”
The path wanders on, a tunnel through the forest with the occasional glimpse of skyscraper to remind us that we’re actually in the midst of one of the world’s most densely populated cities. Yet despite the iconic skyscrapers and towering apartment blocks, less than a quarter of Hong Kong is built-up, and a surprising 43 percent is dedicated as Natural Park.
In the far northeast of the territory are the jungle-covered hills and deserted beaches of the East Sai Kung Country Park. Just 20-kilometres from frenetic Kowloon are beaches and forests where the only way in or out is by foot or boat, and the day is spent walking on paths between villages of the Hakka clan.
We leave the shady cool of the forest and take a short break at High West; today a tranquil picnic spot overlooking the Pearl River Delta, but during World War II it was vital to the defence of Hong Kong and the armoured pillboxes still remain. The path continues next to a deep water-channel heading towards Aberdeen Reservoir – we’re lucky to spot a rare wild terrapin diving for the depths – and it’s not long before we are gazing down at the fishing harbour of Aberdeen, a daunting 900 steps below us.
It’s the centre of the city’s fishing industry, and a popular spot for sampan rides and seafood dinners. The floating Jumbo Restaurant has become a Hong Kong icon, and offers decent food at reasonable prices, although the glittering double story restaurant verges on a theme park for tourists.
Which is perhaps fitting, as Aberdeen is also home to Ocean Park; Hong Kong’s most beloved theme park. Attracting over five million visitors a year it’s ideal for tourists with family in tow and you can easily spend a day exploring the animal exhibits and whooping on the rides.
I’m here to avoid the crowds though, so I hop on one of the frequent buses cruising along the southern edge of Hong Kong Island. A single ride only costs a few Hong Kong dollars, so it’s an affordable way to get around. The fare system is automated though, and only accepts coins, so make sure you have some loose change before you board.
This southern coast of the island is home to some of the city’s best beaches. Dozens of yachts lie moored in Deep Water Bay while neighbouring Repulse Bay is the Clifton of Hong Kong. Multi-million dollar apartments gaze down over the calm waters and clean beaches where tourists in the know come to suntan and swim. It’s hard to imagine a better place to escape the crowds of Kowloon.
A few stops further on is the village of Stanley, a popular spot with tourists and their shopping bags thanks to its excellent covered market. It’s also here that you’ll find the worthwhile Hong Kong Maritime Museum. It’s housed on the ground floor of Murray House; a colonnaded, nineteenth-century building on the waterfront that was moved here from Central and rebuilt brick by brick! Stanley is also a popular spot for water sports, and the main beach is likely to be packed on hot summer days.
The autumn weather is mild though, so I’ll wait until the steamy summer months to hit the water. I’m running out of time and there are no buses coming along, so I hop in one of the ubiquitous red taxis. I’m running late, and I have a date with The Dragon’s Back.
Voted one of the best urban trails in Asia by Time Magazine, the 8.5-kilometre path climbs steeply through bamboo and banana thickets from the trailhead at To Tei Wan. The short, sharp climb is worth it though, as you’re soon rewarded with some of the best views in Hong Kong.
From the summit the undulating ridge of the Dragon’s Back stretches out before you, with views up and across to the peaks of Hong Kong Island and deserted islands out in the South China Sea. In the right conditions, paragliders launch here to play in the thermals and surfers hit the typhoon-driven swells at Dai Long Wan (Big Wave Bay) down below.
The trail eventually meanders off the ridge and down through thick forest to a road junction that leads you to the laid-back village of Shek O. Hit one of the two relaxed beaches, or pull up a chair at a restaurant serving cold Tsing Tao beer and fresh seafood. Tough choice.
I catch the bus back to Repulse Bay just as the sun is setting fire to the South China Sea. I’ve run out of time, but tomorrow I’ll be back up above the city on Bowen’s Walk.
A short taxi ride from Wan Chai, this shady promenade is a popular spot for morning joggers and is one of the city’s most delightful – and unexplored – spots. The highlight of the Walk is an outcrop known as Lover’s Rock by the locals, and couples come from as far afield as Japan to pray at the rock’s small temple for a happy marriage. Perhaps I’ll offer a few words to appease the long-suffering spouse of a travel writer.
But for now, there’s just enough light to jot these last words down into my Moleskine and soak up the warmth from the sands of Repulse Bay. I wonder if it really is too late for a swim. Perhaps tomorrow…
Smart traveller:
- Cathay Pacific flies directly from Johannesburg to Hong Kong’s Chek Lap Kok airport. From here it’s just 20-minutes into the city on the fast and efficient Airport Express train. Visit www.cathaypacfific.com or call 011 700 8900.
- Public transport is fast, efficient and safe. If you’re in the city for more than a few days it’s worth buying an Octopus debit card (available at any MTR station) to pay for your public transport.
- Stay at The Luxe Manor in Tsim Tsha Tsui, a delightfully over-the-top boutique hotel in the heart of Kowloon’s shopping and entertainment district. Find out more at www.theluxemanor.com
- For help in planning your visit, go to the excellent Hong Kong Tourism Board website at www.discoverhongkong.com.
- To explore the great outdoors, book a trail or two with Walk Hong Kong. Visit www.walkhongkong.com.
First published in Shape Magazine, May 2010 |
The explosion of spring flowers has fast become one of South Africa’s most popular natural events, drawing visitors from across the country and the world to marvel at the carpets of colour that bloom in the Western and Northern Cape each year.
You’ll see magnificent spring flowers as far south as the Western Cape wine lands town of Darling, but if you have a little more time on your hands the Northern Cape is the place to visit. Heading north on the N7 freeway, you’ll pass the turnoff to Clanwilliam, but keep driving past the vineyards and rooibos tea plantations until you reach Vanrhynsdorp; the ‘gateway to Namaqualand’.
It’s here that you’ll need to choose between left and right; the high road or the low road. Left takes you north along the N7 to the famous Namaqualand, while right will lead you over the winding Vanrhyn’s Pass to the Bokkeveld Plateau and Nieuwoudtville.
If you stick to the N7 – the main drag north which runs right up to Namibia – you’re on your way to perhaps the most famous flower gardens on earth; Namaqualand. Dry and barren in summer, winter rains transform the dusty landscape almost overnight as the famous Namaqualand daisies, gazanias and succulent vygies turn the desert into a riot of colour.
The gravelly plains of the Knersvlakte that surrounds Vanrhynsdorp may seem barren, but take a closer look and you’ll find that in amongst the dry white pebbles are thousands of tiny succulents, eking out an existence.
These small thick-leafed plants are a hallmark of the region, and you can discover more about the boksportjies, kameelspoor, baby toes, hitch-hikers and candy toes at the nursery in Vanrhynsdorp’s Voortrekker Street. Also make time to stop at the Kersbos Flower Park, about eight kilometres north of Bitterfontein, where a nature-loving farmer has established a 100-hectare flower reserve on his farm to preserve this delicate vegetation for future generations.
A profusion of spring flowers dots the roadside all the way to the ‘dorpie’ of Garies, which sprang up in 1845 on land given to the Dutch Reformed Church by the owner of the farm Goedeverwagting. Although the town was originally named after the farm, its present name comes from the local Nama word ‘Th’aries’, meaning ‘coach-grass’. For a peek into the history of the area stop by the Letterklip, where early travellers to Namaqualand inscribed their names on huge megalithic boulders.
Another fifty kilometres brings you to Kamieskroon, the gateway to the Skilpad section of the Namaqua National Park. The reserve, which only operates during the flower season, was established in 1988 by the South African arm of the World Wildlife Fund to conserve the remarkable indigenous flora of the region.
Named after the plentiful tortoises found here, the section is home to some of the best spring flowers you’re likely to find in the Northern Cape. Skilpad’s ridge of hills snares clouds racing in from the coast, and the Park receives most of what little rain blows in off the sea. In years when surrounding areas don’t put on much of a show, Skilpad is always a reliable bet. With the opening of the Skilpad Rest Camp, which offers four fully equipped self-catering cottages; you can now also spend the night in the Park.
From the Namaqua National Park, take a scenic drive along the Wildeperdehoek and Messelpad Passes for a glimpse of gorgeous purple Namaqualand felicia, orange and pink vygies, and an array of daisies. This road will lead you towards the town of Springbok, the end of the Namaqualand Wildflower Route where you can visit the nearby Goegap Nature Reserve for excellent flowers and birding.
If you’re looking to explore off-the-beaten-track, and have a car that doesn’t mind a fair bit of gravel, three of South Africa’s top national parks lie in wait beyond Springbok.
The mountain deserts of the Ai-Ais/Richtersveld National Park offers some of the continent’s most spectacular scenery and the ‘Richtersveld Cultural and Botanical Landscape’ was designated a World Heritage Site in 2007. Although there are chalets and campsites for hire, this is a rugged unforgiving landscape and you’ll need a 4x4 to properly explore the Park.
More accessible is the Augrabies Falls National Park, a few hours northeast of Springbok. The highlight of the Park is the 56m waterfall as the mighty Orange River makes its way through a sinuous sandstone gorge.
Apart from the waterfall there are a range of self-drive routes to explore, with a wide variety of game on offer, as well as hiking trails ranging from a few hours to a few days. To get the adrenalin flowing sign up for the ‘Gariep 3-in-1 Adventure’, which takes you canoeing for three kilometres down the Orange River, hiking for four kilometres and returning to the camp on an exciting mountain bike trail.
For a real dose of adventure you can tackle the long and bumpy gravel road to the Kgalagadi Transfrontier National Park, where red dunes and low scrub are home to herds of antelope, and camel thorn trees (Acacia erioloba) offer shade for the park’s legendary black-mane lions. Few travellers venture this far north, so the effort of driving the long road to the Kgalagadi will be rewarded with spectacular scenery and supreme solitude.
If that’s a sand dune too far, turn your wheels south and make sure you leave a day or two for one last glimpse at the Northern Cape’s magnificent floral spectacle. From Augrabies, follow the back-road along the R27 through the farming town of Calvinia – famous for its annual ‘Vleisfees’ braai festival – until you reach the green fields of Nieuwoudtville.
This sleepy village becomes a hive of activity in flower season (see sidebox), when tourists descend on the town that’s as famous for its honey-coloured sandstone houses as its flowers. The fields around here boast the most interesting spring flowers in South Africa and the town’s numerous B&Bs and guesthouses make this a great base for exploring the area.
The town bills itself as the ‘bulb capital of the world’, and it’s not hard to see why. The farms around Nieuwoudtville spring to life in season as millions – literally – upon millions of Tritonia, Freesia, Ixia, Babiana, Sparaxis and Dierama bulbs burst through the usually arid soil. The Nieuwoudtville wildflower reserve two kilometres east of town is always a good bet to enjoy the blooms, and a number of local farmers arrange flower tours in season. Check with the local information office in town for what’s available.
Another must-see is the Hantam National Botanical Garden. The farm Glenlyon was purchased by the South African National Biodiversity Institute in 2007, and today offers a fantastic floral display across its 6200 hectares. The Garden is open daily during flower season, and booking is essential for the popular guided tours.
At the height of spring you’ll see flowers growing out of ever nook and cranny, so once you’ve had your fill of flowers take a drive out to the Bokkeveld Nature Reserve where you can see the Doring River tumble 90 metres into a rocky gorge. A few kilometres further north on the road to Loeriesfontein is the largest and most southerly colony of Aloe Dichotoma – the mysterious kokerboom, or quiver tree. If you haven’t seen one of these incredible trees before it’s well worth the detour.
The other side of Nieuwoudtville, on the road towards the Botterkloof Pass is the Oorlogskloof glacial pavement, where you can look back in time to when glaciers covered much of South Africa. It’s clearly signposted from the gravel road, and just a 100-metre stroll through the low bush.
These ancient rocks were scraped smooth some 300 million years ago, so the Northern Cape knows all about taking things slow. The rivers flow, the seeds germinate and the warm African sun beats down. In this corner of South Africa, there’s really no excuse not to stop and smell the flowers.
Flower tips
Want to get the most out of your flower tour? Follow these handy tips…
- The height of the flowering season is between August and October, but the peak season depends on when the winter rains arrive. September is usually a safe bet.
- The flowers are at their best during the hottest part of the day, from approximately 11am until 3pm.
- Flowering starts in the Northern Cape around Springbok area and spreads southwards as the season progresses and the weather becomes warmer. If you’re visiting early, head further north.
- The flowers turn during the day to follow the movements of the sun, so for the full effect try and have the sun behind you while you’re walking or driving.
- Don’t just marvel at the carpets of colour. Get down on your hands and knees to appreciate the smaller specimens that are often overshadowed by the millions of daisies.
First published in Explore SA magazine; May 2010 |
I’ve driven the N2 out of Cape Town dozens of times, following a well-worn trail on weekends away in the Overberg. Through Somerset West, over Sir Lowry’s Pass, down Houw Hoek on the other side and off into the distance we go.
But behind the blur of pear and apple orchards in the Elgin Valley there is – I recently discovered – a wonderful eco-tourism destination waiting to be explored. Ignore the N2 and forget the Overberg… one of the Cape’s best weekend escapes waits just over them thar hills
If you’re planning a visit to the Elgin Valley you’ve likely got a busy few days ahead, so you’ll need to stock up.
The bakery at the Peregrine Farm Stall is legendary, and you’ll be hard-pressed not to leave with a basket of fresh ‘Ouma Brood’, a cheesy quiche, milk tart and a bagful of syrupy koeksisters. It’s a great place to fill a picnic hamper and grab a bottle of freshly squeezed apple juice or bottle of local wine.
The Houw Hoek Farm Stall, another 12-kilometres or so down the N2, is another tried and trusted option with an excellent bakery. Their sausage rolls and Millionaire’s Shortbread bring road-trippers from far and wide. You can also cast a line into the well-stocked trout dams up on the hill. Either pop your catch in a cooler-bag or ask the restaurant to throw it in the pan.
Well-stocked and ready for the day ahead the Valley is your proverbial oyster.
Start off at a leisurely pace with some twitching at Elgin Vintners, off the Viljoenshoop Road. The farm dam is home to dozens of bird varieties, including a good selection of fynbos endemics, and a small jetty allows you a rare chance to get up close to a nest of Black Headed Herons.
If that’s a little sedate, the mountain bike trails on offer at Oak Valley should get your pulse racing. The farm offers three well-marked routes: a 14 kilometre Green Route suitable for all skill levels; a 21 kilometre Red Route for stronger riders; and the 25 kilometre Black Route for complete nutters.
Laid out by Oak Valley wine-maker (and avid cyclist) Pieter Visser, the trails are mostly single-track which wind through forests, fields and fynbos. Hot showers are available at the start/finish, and there are shady lawns to relax under and rest those tired limbs.
Fruits of the vine
You can also quench your thirst with Visser’s wines at the nearby tasting room. With its cool climate and slow-ripening vineyards Elgin is rapidly making a name for itself in producing some of South Africa’s top wines.
“Elgin is the best place to grow vineyards in South Africa,” enthuses Paul Wallace, viticulturist and one of the shareholders at nearby Elgin Vintners. “The slower your ripening the better it is for what ends up inside the bottle,” and their Rhône-style Shiraz and barrel-fermented Viognier are certainly proof that South African wines don’t have to be all about big fruit and high alcohol.
A short way down the N2, Paul Cluver Wines is credited with proving you can grow great grapes in a valley famous for its apple and pear orchards. Cluver’s Pinot Noir is among the best in South Africa, but the estate also makes great Weisser Riesling, Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc.
In all, there are over 20 wine labels in the Elgin Valley, up from just a handful five years ago, with estates like Iona, Highlands Road and South Hill also worth a visit.
Stop for a bite
South Hill is especially worth stopping in at around lunchtime. If you haven’t packed a picnic chef Gordon Manuel will be only too happy to whip up something for you at the estate’s restaurant; The Venue.
A veteran of boutique hotels, Manuel’s skill in the kitchen brings a touch of class to hearty country cooking. The menu changes weekly, but expect crispy duck, seared salmon and meltingly good risotto. Original South African artworks adorn the walls of this old apple shed, with sliding doors to let the vineyard and orchard views wash in.
A lazy lunch can easily extend into late afternoon, and with the sun dipping behind the Hottentots Holland Mountains we find ourselves pushing open the door into a secret garden. Wildekrans Country House.
The manor house was built in 1811 along the traditional wagon route into the interior, but the farm dates back to the previous century when the stream that flows through the property served as a watering hole for oxen about to attempt the then-treacherous Houw Hoek Pass.
And the sense of history is palpable at Wildekrans, from the low doorways and creaky floors to thick mud walls. Sturdy walls that are today laden with some of South Africa’s finest artists; the likes of Deborah Bell, Guy Du Toit, Llewellyn Davies and William Kentridge.
“We try and buy at least one piece of art per year,” says Alison Green, who runs Wildekrans with her architect husband, as we wander out into their five-hectare garden. “We like the contrast between the historic homestead and modern South African art, so the artworks are both in the house and scattered in the garden.”
And a fine setting for fine art it is too. Ordered and carefully planted near the house, the garden becomes wilder as it scampers up towards the fynbos-clad mountains that are emerald green and lush thanks to early winter rains.
A rambling rose garden wafts delicate scents towards a flock of inanimate sheep (courtesy of sculptor Wilma Cruise), and the stream gurgles its way past an orchard of olive and pear trees.
Alison is justifiably proud of her art collection, but the garden – along with the cosy guesthouse, of course – is the real highlight of Wildekrans. Benches wait patiently for someone to arrive with a favourite book, deckchairs have ‘snooze in the sun’ written all over them and a sparkling pool invites on hot summer days.
Down the garden path
Wildekrans isn’t the only property in Elgin with lovely gardens, and happily the keen gardeners of the Valley are happy to share them with the rest of us. The Elgin Open Gardens is an annual event held each October allowing the public to admire and enjoy a range of private gardens strung out across the Valley. Last year over two-dozen green-thumbed residents opened their lawns and flowerbeds to willing feet and enthusiastic noses. And yes, finding time to stop and smell the roses is compulsory!
With the dew falling on a chilly spring evening, it’s the fireplace in the lounge that draws us indoors though, along with the promise of a glass of wine from the local vineyards.
Wildekrans by name perhaps, but it’s certainly not wild by nature. The mountains above are rugged, for sure, but there’s more than a touch of fine living on offer at this delightful guesthouse. Lots to see and do, great food, outstanding wine… there’s little you won’t enjoy about a weekend away in this corner of the Cape.
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First published in Food&Home magazine, May 2010
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