It was all very James Bond.
Just minutes after our jet had dropped out of the night sky onto Mahe’s surely-too-short runway (all built on reclaimed land) we were whisked into a waiting vehicle and bundled – with the inimitable courtesy and care of the Seychellois, of course – into a speedboat and we were off across the warm Indian Ocean.
A full moon refracted in the spray off the bow as an island appeared out of the starlight; an atoll of jumbled granite guarded by rustling palm trees. The breakers hissing across the white sand that was stretched around the island like a welcoming smile. Off the starboard bow, Moyenne Island lay quietly in the darkness as one of the crew sat down next to me.
“Just one man, an old Englishman, lives on that island,” he murmured. “Well, one man and lots of tortoises. They say there’s treasure, pirate treasure, buried somewhere there too!”
With images of gold doubloons and Jolly Rogers fluttering through my mind, the rumble of the boat’s engine slowed to a growl as we pull up at a wooden jetty.
“Welcome to Sainte Anne. Bienvenue!” came the voice out of the darkness; a lilting Creole with a soupçon of French. Pirates, private islands, Creole cuisine, calm seas… it was a warm welcome to the Seychelles indeed!
But if this nation of 115 islands is mysterious and alluring by moonlight, it is all the more irresistible in the glow of soft tropical sunshine. White beaches lifted straight from a brochure, water the colour of Bombay Sapphire and lush peaks rising from a canopy of rainforest. As one erudite writer recently put it, the Seychelles is often described as a little piece of heaven, but it’s not. It’s better, because you get to go home and make your friends jealous.
Sainte Anne Resort & Spa was the slice of ‘heaven’ I chose to call my Seychellois home from home. Situated on a 200-hectare private island a few kilometres off the main island of Mahe, the Villa-only resort is surrounded by one of the largest Marine Parks in the Indian Ocean. Although the El Niño phenomenon took its toll on the shallow corals, the surrounding seas still abound with life and great snorkelling is possible right off the beach.
There are four restaurants and 87 villas on Sainte Anne – many with private pools, complimentary Wi-Fi and luxurious outdoor showers – yet the spacious grounds ensure you’ll never feel crowded.
The gentle whirr of golf carts whisking guests around the resort is about the only noise you’ll hear. That, and the tinkling bell of an approaching bicycle… each villa has its own bikes to allow you to explore the resort.
The scent of frangipani trees follows you as you wander, while colourful bougainvillea and hibiscuses flowers invariably end up behind the ear of a blissed-out tourist.
In a quiet corner of Sainte Anne you’ll find the ‘Spa by Clarins’, recently revamped to offer a range of treatment rooms along with a balneotherapy room, yoga rooms and separate-sex hammams. Under takamaka and casuarina trees nearby you’ll find the dive shop and activities centre, with complimentary kayaks, sailing dinghies and snorkelling equipment on hand for active holidaymakers.
And active you should certainly be. Delightful as resort living is, one of the beauties of the Seychelles is that it’s easy to get out and explore. A complimentary shuttle-boat runs from Sainte Anne to Mahe throughout the day, and from Victoria the islands are your proverbial oysters!
A good place to start your island hopping is in the capital of the Seychelles, Victoria.
Home to just 22 000 people, Victoria is the second-smallest capital in the world and feels more like a quaint country town than the seat of government! Ruled by both the French (1770-1814) and the British (1814-1976) it’s a curious hangover from empires in the tropics.
The Sir Selwyn Selwyn Clarke Market (no, that’s not a typo!) is one of the highlights of the capital and offers a taste of daily Seychellois life on Mahe. Long concrete tables overflow with the day’s fresh catch, while lazy herons roost in the rafters, keeping a beady out for scraps. Stalls of fresh fruit and vegetables, as well as tables of tourist trinkets are worth browsing before hitting the road to explore the island.
The Seychelles is famous for its outstanding beaches and Mahe is home to some of the nation’s most famous strips of sand.
Follow Chemin St. Louis out of Victoria and a short drive will bring you to Beau Vallon; Mahe’s iconic beach and home to a strip of ever-popular hotels. The sand is flour-soft, the water’s warm and turquoise, but it can also get crowded. If you like the buzz of holidaymakers then this is the place for you.
For something a little quieter, you’ll need to backtrack and follow Chemin Sanssouci over to the western edge of the island.
Anse Souillac (Anse means ‘bay’ in French) is a delightful cove where local kids sneak away after school to frolic in still, warm waters. And don’t be surprised to see a super-yacht or two moored a few hundred metres off the beach. These quiet coves have become the playgrounds of the rich and famous.
Heading south down the west coast, Grand Anse is a popular surf spot, while the narrow Anse Boileau offers great swimming and is home to local fishermen. Anse à la Mouche is ideal for families, with sparkling waters that remain shallow even at high tide.
Mahe is about more than beaches though, and a delightful midday stop is the hillside Jardin du Roi (Royal Garden). There’s been a tree and spice garden here since 1772, supplying ships and local settlers with the fragrant spices you’ll discover nightly in the region’s Creole cuisine.
Jackfruit and Durian hang heavily from trees, while cinnamon, nutmeg and pepper trees are all harvested for the kitchen of Mrs Micheline Georges, whose family have owned the garden for 150 years. The Jardin’s Coco de Mer trees are also, obviously, a star attraction.
Coco de what, I hear you ask? Well, for the story of the Coco de Mer you’ll need to hop on over to the nearby island of Praslin. High-speed ferries run regularly from Victoria, or it’s a short hop on Air Seychelles.
While Praslin certainly has its fair share of excellent beaches and resorts, its claim to fame is the legendary Vallée de Mai. This lush UNESCO World Heritage Site is a stunningly beautiful ancient forest home to 6000 Coco-de-Mer palms.
Considered to be among the botanical wonders of the world the male and female seeds are the largest in the plant kingdom, weighing up to 15-kilograms, and bear a striking resemblance to the human form; a curvaceous, heart-shaped seed for the female and a long tube for the male. One can only imagine what love-struck sailors made of them after months at sea!
Praslin is also a short ferry ride from the lost-in-time island of La Digue.
La Digue is what the Seychelles would have looked like before tourism arrived in the early 1970s. Cars only made it to the island 20 years ago, and today most visitors get around by bicycle or ox-cart. Resort hotels are few and far between and you’re more likely to find a laid-back beach bungalow where meals are enjoyed with the local family.
Apart from simply enjoying the remarkable scenery, it’s worth heaving yourself out of the deckchair to explore the island’s L’Union Estate. Now government owned, the estate offers tours of the palm plantation and copra mill used to produce coconut oil, a vanilla plantation and horse riding. The enclosure of giant tortoises, the oldest over 90 years old, is also a hit with families. It’s laid-back with few frills and makes a wonderful change from the busy tourist bustle of the larger islands.
Whether you visit on a day-trip from Mahe or decide to play Robinson Crusoe for a few days La Digue is certainly worth a visit. It’s the place to wiggle your toes into the sand of Anse Patates, sit back under casuarina trees with a chilled coconut and simply slip into Seychellois island-time. A piece of heaven on earth? I can’t wait to tell my friends…
FOR MORE INFO
First published in Explore L'Afrique magazine, Spring 2009. |
|
Mon 12 Oct 2009 |
|
A Lighthouse with Latitude |
|
I’m in two minds about the road to the small town of L’Agulhas. And that’s probably because the road itself seems to have a split personality.
On the one hand – the left, if you’re heading south – there is the tempestuous Indian Ocean. Whipped into frenzy by a winter cold front it’s wild and untamed, and it’s easy to see why hundreds of ships have foundered here over the centuries, their hulls ripped to splinters on the sharp rocks below.
On the other side, the road is bordered by that most ghastly of South African invention. The Holiday House.
More than a few are evidently ‘self-designed’ by proud owners with Norman Foster delusions, and the houses of L’Agulhas are by and large a blight on the landscape. If only a building code had been drawn up before the face-brick and plate glass brigade moved in, the town may have been a prettier sight.
As the winding road follows the coastline from the sleepy dorp of Struisbaai –home to the longest white sand beach south of the equator, and yellowtail capital of the world, I’m reliably told – I’m split between admiration for the pounding sea, and derision for the pox of boxy holiday houses. Thankfully though, there is one building in L’Agulhas that is striking enough to erase all of its neighbours’ sins.
Built of sandstone, which is weathering away at an alarming rate, and modelled on the famous light of Pharos in Ancient Egypt the Cape Agulhas lighthouse is easily one of the most beautiful structures on the entire South African coastline.
Built in 1848 the light came 360 years too late for Bartholomeu Dias, the Portuguese explorer who sailed past here in 1488 and named it L’Agulhas; The Needles. Opinion is still divided as to whether it was for the razor-sharp rocks or reports of compass needless going haywire as they rounded the southern tip of Africa, but today ships stay well offshore to avoid the rough seas of the shallow Agulhas Banks. One thing’s for sure though; every five seconds throughout the night a comforting light cuts through the darkness to mark the treacherous southern tip of Africa.
Navigation aside, the lighthouse has become one of the region’s most popular tourist attractions. A paltry R15 gets you access into the small museum, but more importantly it leads you to the steps heading heavenwards. Claustrophobics and vertigo-sufferers might want to think twice before ascending, but the view from the gantry surrounding the light is certainly worth conquering a few fears.
Besides, you can always soothe those frayed nerves with a cuppa in the cosy restaurant below. The Lighthouse Restaurant has some lovely home-baked goodies for elevenses, but is equally a cosy spot for dinner, especially on a wintry evening with rain lashing the windows to make you feel like a real lighthouse-keeper.
A short walk from the lighthouse you’ll find the town’s other main attraction; the southern tip of Africa. The end of the continent it may be, but it’s little more than a rocky windswept point popular with fishermen and there’s not much to keep you here once you’ve taken the obligatory photo with a foot in each ocean.
Rather hop back into your car and drive a short distance along the coast to the start of the Rasperpunt Hiking Trail. It’s a leisurely five-kilometre walk that traverses the coastline before looping inland and back to the starting point at the wreck of the Meisho Maru 38, which ran aground here in 1982. Maps are available from the lighthouse information office, and anyone who’s reasonably fit can handle the trail that leads you past unique coastal fynbos, Stone Age fish traps and Khoi shell middens.
If you’re more hedonist than hiker you’ll certainly be glad to hear that the flat Agulhas Plain which stretches for dozens of kilometres inland is also home to some of South Africa’s newest wineries. Sea breezes and consistently low temperatures have made this a popular spot for growing cool climate grapes, from Sauvignon Blanc to the notoriously pernickety Pinot Noir.
While a number of Stellenbosch and Franschhoek wineries are now sourcing white wine grapes from the region, there is also a handful of wineries growing, fermenting and bottling their wines in the region.
Strandveld Vineyards is one of the most successful wineries in the area, producing a handful of award-winning vintages just four years after a run-down sheep and wheat farm was ploughed over and carpeted with vines.
The fruits of those vines provide winemaker Conrad Vlok with the raw materials for his range that’s spread across two labels, both heavy on the whites. First Sighting is the more accessible (read, more affordable) range; with the highlight being a Chardonnay Semillon Viognier blend which all comes together rather nicely. The more upmarket Strandveld line includes the award-winning Adamastor; a blend of Sauvignon Blanc and Semillon named after a mythological titan of the sea that would wreck sailors daring to round Cape Agulhas. Perhaps fitting for the brave winemakers daring to plant vines in this windswept place.
They’re hardly the first pioneers to settle here though.
The Moravian mission village of Elim, a short drive from the cellar, dates back to 1824 and has changed little since then. Famous for its skilled thatchers who find work across the globe, it’s a colourful village well suited to wandering. That said, you might enjoy it all the more if you call the tourism office (028 482 1806) beforehand to arrange a guided tour of the village with its old mill wheel and impressive church.
While the longest, oldest and brightest are certainly to be found in this southern corner of the country, when it comes to somewhere to stay I’ve always found myself going back to basics.
With no electricity, a donkey-boiler for hot water, a rainwater tank to top up your whisky and only lamplight to play cards by, Langrug Lodge may not be for everyone, but when it comes to a bit of peace and quiet on the empty Agulhas plains it’s hard to beat.
Standing alone on the banks of Soetendalsvlei, the largest natural freshwater lake in South Africa, there’s outstanding bird watching to keep you busy, but I usually find little time for that in between a full schedule of staring at the horizon. Lush pastures (well, in winter at least) stretch for kilometres and there’s hardly another soul in sight. It’s the ideal place to catch up with old friends, dive into that book you’ve been saving or find some peace and quiet with your other half.
“A little peace of Africa” is exactly what owner Jenny Uys says of her lovingly restored farm cottage. The seas nearby may be anything but peaceful, but as the sun sets over the vlei and a flock of endangered Blue Cranes flaps noisily overhead, I reckon she’s coined it just right. Perhaps this is the most peaceful spot in Africa. Even if you do have to travel to the end of the continent to find it.
Useful info
- Contact L’Agulhas Tourism on
This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it
or 027 28 435 7185.
- Strandveld Vineyards: www.firstsighting.co.za or 028 482 1906. Open for tastings Monday-Saturday.
- For Langrug Lodge, contact Jenny Uys on 082 493 8875 or
This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it
.
First published in The Weekender, 3 October 2009. |
With a coastline stretching over 2500 kilometres from Alexander Bay on the icy Atlantic to Kosi Bay in sub-tropical KwaZulu-Natal, it’s no surprise that South Africa’s oceans boast some outstanding dive spots. Whether you’re admiring the subtle beauty to be found in the chilly Cape waters or enjoying the tropical aquarium of the east coast you’ll find a reef with your name on it…
Cape Columbine
The kelp forests of Cape Columbine are filled with neoprene-clad holidaymakers in the summer months, but you won’t find any scuba tanks here. This is one of the best spots on the West Coast to free-dive for the prized – and tasty – Cape Rock Lobster. Camp in the reserve at the legendary Tietiesbaai which is named, allegedly, after the granite boulders along the shoreline. Diving for crayfish is restricted to certain times of the year, and a permit is required. Enquire at any post office.
Justin’s Caves
Cape Town offers dozens of dive sites, but in the summer months you’ll want to be on the icy Atlantic side, where the prevailing south-easter ensures crystal-clear waters. Add a dash of glamour to a day of diving by suiting up at Justin’s Caves, an underwater playground of jumbled granite. The 12 Apostles Hotel across the road is perfect for an after-dive drink.
False Bay
The warmer waters of False Bay offer a wonderful range of dive options catering for all skill levels. Experienced divers should hop on a charter boat and head for the wrecks of Smitswinkel Bay (35m). The five ships scuttled here were sunk in the 1970s to form an artificial reef, and are today covered with marine life.
Not far from ‘Smits’, A-Frame and Windmill beach are great options for novice divers. Easy shore entries and shallow waters allow you to relax and search for the resident dogfish and pyjama sharks.
If you’re feeling brave Whittle Rock in the middle of the Bay is an outstanding site, but is also popular with Great White sharks so a quick descent is essential!
Big adventure in Kleinbaai
If sharks are your cup of tea, then you’ll need to make the daytrip out to Kleinbaai. Billed as the Great White Shark capital of the world, these awesome predators are drawn here by the 60 000 seals resident on Dyer Island and Geyser Rock. There are a number of cage-dive operators in Kleinbaai, but I’d highly recommend White Shark Projects, who have been running shark-trips since 1989 and offer a well-organised, informative and exciting half-day trip.
Protea Banks
You’ll find sharks aplenty on this challenging dive site two hours south of Durban and 8-kilometres offshore. Dropping down to 40m you’ll find Zambezi, Tiger, Hammerhead, Dusky, Ragged Tooth and Black Tip sharks hunting on the Banks, along with a wide variety of reef life. Strike it lucky and you may spot manta rays and whales cruising past. It’s a deep dive with a strong current, so it’s for experienced adventure divers only.
Aliwal Shoal
An hour’s drive further north; Aliwal is perhaps a little more forgiving. One of SA’s most popular sites, the diving is best from May to September when the visibility is good and Ragged Tooth sharks are resident. Regularly rated as one of the top 10 dive sites on the planet, Aliwal Shoal has something for everyone. Lionfish Hole (16m) and The Pinnacles (15m) are well suited for novice divers, while the more adventurous can drop to 30m and explore the wreck of The Nebo, which ran aground in 1884 and is still well preserved. The Produce, wrecked in 1974, lies on its side to the north of the Shoal and is a good place to spot migratory game fish.
Diving on the South Coast is also ideal for families as the area has lots to keep non-divers entertained, from safe swimming beaches to shopping malls, restaurants and golf courses.
The North Coast
The stretches of sand north of Durban have also become a popular holiday playground throughout the year and, while not as spectacular as the southern reefs, the seas around Umhlanga do offer some great diving. Reefs in this area tend to be closer in-shore, which means a shorter boat-ride but often less visibility. Winter months are best, when there’s lower rainfall and offshore winds. The T-Barge (27m) and The Trawler (26m) are the best dives in the area, both artificial reefs home to a dazzling array of reef and pelagic fish.
Sodwana Bay
If you’re an avid bubble-blower then skip Umhlanga and keep heading north. Past Richard’s Bay, past the game reserves of Hluhluwe-Unfolozi and on to Sodwana Bay… the Mecca of diving in South Africa.
Thanks to the warm waters brought down from the topics by the Mozambique current, Sodwana Bay is home to the southernmost coral reefs in the world. Most of the Sodwana reefs are between 500m and one kilometre offshore, and 8-14 kilometres north of Sodwana. Reefs are named according to their distance from the launch site at Jesser Point, with Five-Mile, Seven-Mile and Nine-Mile reefs the most famous.
Once you’ve made it through the crashing surf (divers help push the boats into the water before hopping on board!), scooted up the coast and dropped anchor, a watery wonderland waits. The pristine coral teems with a huge variety of marine life and, if you’re lucky, you could spot turtles, dolphins or even a whale shark. Between October and February loggerhead and leatherback turtles lay their eggs on the beaches, and it’s well worth joining one of the excellent night tours run by accredited tour operators.
These turtles, like the many tourists who flock here, come from across the globe to enjoy the warm waters, pristine coastline and soft-sand beaches. If these ocean explorers choose to land up on South Africa’s coastline, why shouldn’t you?
First published in Indwe magazine; the in-flight mag of SA Express |
The Islamic crescent catches my eye immediately.
Silhouetted against rows of vines stretching up the Constantiaberg, the crescent seems entirely out of place in the genteel wine lands of the southern suburbs. A herd of snow-white Charolais cows lie languorously in a nearby pasture, a mountain stream rushes by at the end of a wet winter and vineyards dotted with colourful Canola line the driveway to the final resting place of Sheikh Abdurahman Matebe Shah.
“Salaam Aleikum,” says the wizened old caretaker, as I wander towards the green-domed kramat – meaning ‘tomb of a saint’ – that sits quietly alongside the vineyards of Klein Constantia.
It’s about as unlikely a place as you could imagine for one of Cape Town’s holiest sites of Islam. But then again, Sheikh Abdurahman and the other saints buried in kramats across the Cape Peninsula didn’t exactly ask to end up here.
“These kramats are the burial sites, the tombs, for spiritual leaders who were brought to the Cape by the Dutch over two hundred years ago,” says Ameen Dhansay, one of the volunteer committee members of the Cape Mazaar (Kramat) Society tasked with maintaining and conserving the kramats. “They were captured in Malaysia and Indonesia in the late-1600s and 1700s where they were leaders and royalty. They rebelled against the Dutch colonisers and so were jailed and shipped out to the Cape where they were banished to distant corners of the peninsula.”
It’s a slice of history that’s been well documented after careful research in the Cape Archives by the Society, says Dhansay: “This was total isolation… it’s one of the earliest instances of forced segregation in our country.”
It’s early in the month of Ramadaan when I visit and there’s a small, but steady flow of local Muslims paying their respects.
“The people buried here are seen as very pious in the Muslim world and we term them Auliyah, which means ‘Friends of Allah’. Because these men were so close to Allah there is a constant shower of blessings on these sites from the Maker,” says Dhansay.
Inside the kramat there are few adornments on the walls other than religious inscriptions, and the grave – covered with lengths of richly embroidered cloth – takes pride of place.
“The difference between a grave like this and an ordinary grave is the cloth that’s laid over it, what we call the Chadar or Ghilaf. It’s a mark of respect for these Auliyah,” says Dhansay. “But it’s important to realise that we don’t worship these saints, we only worship God. We just come here to the place of the Auliyah to pray, and hope for those prayers to be answered.”
The tale of Sheikh Abdurahman is brought to light a short way from Klein Constantia, at a place historically known as Islam Hill. The site of another domed kramat, it is here Ameen shows me the tomb of Sayed Mahmud; a spiritual leader from the Malaccan Empire. On the walls of the kramat, which was rebuilt in 1927, are four stone tablets in English and Dutch, one of which reads:
“On 24 January 1667, the ship the Polsbroek left Batavia and arrived here on 13 May 1668 with three political prisoners in chains. Malays of the West Coast of Sumatra who were banished to the Cape… They were rulers ‘Orang Cayen’, men of wealth and influence. Two were sent to the Company’s Forest, and one to Robben Island.”
It was Sayed Abduraghman Motura who was banished to Robben Island, becoming one of the first political prisoners to live out his days on the notorious prison island, but it is Sheikh Yusuf who is perhaps the most famous of the saints buried in kramats across the peninsula.
Born into nobility in Macassar (in present-day Indonesia), he was banished to the Cape in 1693 after fomenting uprisings against Dutch colonisation in the East. Together with 49 followers he was dispatched to the mouth of the Eerste Rivier, giving rise to South Africa’s first cohesive Muslim community in the area today known as Macassar. When he died on 23 May 1699, he was buried on a hill at nearby Faure, where his kramat is still found today.
Sheikh Yusuf’s tomb is one of 23 documented kramats; concentrated in the peninsula, but spread as far afield as Caledon, Rawsonville and the Bain’s Kloof Pass.
“If you look at the layout of where all of these graves are dotted on the peninsula, it actually forms a circle of saints,” says Dhansay. “We as the Muslim community take great comfort from this circle. We feel it’s a ring of protection around our home in the Cape.”
Unlike mosques, the kramats are open to both male and female visitors of all faiths. A worthwile guidebook compiled by the Cape Mazaar Society has well-researched background information on each kramat, as well as clear maps on how to find them.
“Generally these kramats are not locked,” says Dhansay. “We try and keep them open day and night for people to visit, and for people to be able to come anytime to pray and ask for blessings.”
“We only ask people to remove their shoes, dress respectfully and sit in an orderly manner, or to stand. People also must not sit on the grave. We don’t mind people taking photographs or anything, as long as the kramat is treated with respect.”
The colonial Dutch may have had little respect for these spiritual leaders from far-flung Batavia when they arrived at the Cape in chains, but today the kramats are an integral part of life for the Muslim community of Cape Town. A place for prayer and contemplation, and certainly a slice of the Cape’s history that deserves to be remembered and celebrated.
Useful info
- For more information contact the Cape Mazaar Society on 021 699 0500 or visit www.capemazaarsociety.com.
- Ameen Dhansay is a registered tour guide and offers informative tours of the Cape kramats. Contact him on 083 6333 263 or
This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it
.
|
“No operation will help. Let nature take its course.”
This was the diagnosis written on Louis Washkansky’s chart at Groote Schuur Hospital in the last months of 1967.
Around the same time a talented young surgeon, one Dr Christiaan Neethling Barnard, had declared to the head of surgery that his team was ready to perform a human heart transplant. All they needed was a suitable patient and matching donor.
The remarkable weeks that followed that - ultimately ignored - diagnosis are the subject of one of Cape Town’s most remarkable small museums; the Heart of Cape Town.
“This is not a museum, this is a heritage site. This is where it all happened,” says founder Hennie Joubert as we wander through the museum’s pillared entrance, once the hospital’s trauma department. This is where an ambulance crew wheeled in Denise Darvall on the afternoon of 2 December 1967 after she and her mother had been knocked down and killed by a drunk driver. The attractive 25-year-old was tragically about to become part of medical history.
It’s a history brilliantly told in this wonderful museum that traces the research and rivalry involved in performing the world’s first human transplant. However, it’s far from a shrine to Chris Barnard and admirably handles the contentious issue of those closely involved in the ground–breaking surgery, but who ended up in Barnard’s shadow after the operation.
Those such as Hamilton Naki, who is famous for his rise from hospital gardener to surgeon and was an integral part of the team that perfected transplant techniques in the animal laboratory which has been faithfully recreated. Marius Barnard, Chris’ brother, is also given overdue credit. He was the surgeon who removed the healthy heart from Denise, handing it to his brother to make history in an adjoining operating theatre.
An entire room of the museum is, fittingly, dedicated to Denise Darvall. Sketches from her diary adorn the walls, family photos remind us of the loved ones she left behind and a romance novel lies half-opened on the bed; waiting for its owner to return. “If there is no hope for my daughter then you must try to save the life of this man,” were the courageous words of Edward Darvall just hours after losing his wife and daughter.
Although the supporting actors in the drama to follow were brave, courageous and talented it is, of course, the lead character – Dr. Chris Barnard – who takes centre stage in the museum.
A 26-minute documentary traces the turbulent and dramatic life of Barnard. Married three times, father to six children, trained in the USA and South Africa, author of 30 books, pioneering surgeon… it’s impossible to ignore the charisma and driving ambition of the man who dared and won.
As he wrote in his autobiography ‘One Life’: “We (cardiac surgeons) were all just standing shivering around the pool, waiting to see who would dare to jump in first. I did.”
And the stage where he took the leap is the highlight of the museum: operating theatres 2A and 2B; recreated just as they were on 3 December 1967 by some of the theatre nurses who were there on the night.
Recreated down to the smallest detail, the level of authenticity is impressive and adds real drama to what could easily have turned into a kitsch diorama. The original theatre lights hang from the ceiling, the heart-lung machine that kept Washkansky alive is in situ as are swab rags and the scale to calculate the blood he’d lost.
The clock on the wall stands at 5.58am; the moment Darvall’s heart started beating on its own again. Only this time, it was in the chest of Louis Washkansky.
The fame that followed is documented in a display of dozens of letters from royalty and rivals, despite some horrified members of the public labelling him a “ghoul” and “the butcher of Groote Schuur”.
These corridors of Groote Schuur that once rattled with hospital gurneys are now filled with fascinating displays about the surgery that put South Africa on the map, but perhaps the most poignant exhibit is one that may not be photographed.
In a glass case, gazing in on Theatre 2B, are two glass cubes filled with formalin. On the left; Washkansky’s diseased heart, removed in the early hours of 3 December 1967. On the right, the heart of Denise Darvall that let Washkansky live another 18 days before he succumbed to pneumonia.
It’s a poignant, meticulous museum that manages to bring cold, hard medicine to life, and celebrates the tragic and triumphant figures involved. The heart of Cape Town, indeed.
The Heart of Cape Town Museum
Groote Schuur Hospital, Cape Town
Open daily. Tours at 9am, 11am, 1pm, 3pm, 5pm.
www.heartofcapetown.co.za
021 404 1967
R100/adult. Under-10s free. Special rates for school groups.
First published in The Sunday Times; 30 August 2009 |
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
There may have been a rumbling or two of concern from The Wife, but on the face of it my plan was flawless. A month’s honeymoon-holiday in Argentina, then back to Cape Town on a Thursday, pack our flat on a Friday, move house Saturday. It was perfect; schedules were ready, timetables compiled, accommodation booked. Nothing left to chance. What could go wrong?
After a few days in Buenos Aires we decided we'd had enough of diesel-choked pavements and rude porteños. It was time to leave the 'Paris of the South' for the Deep South; Ushuaia, the most southerly town in the world. Bags packed, taxi hailed, sign language perfected… we were on our way to Aeroparque Jorge Newbery airport.
How nice, we thought as we wandered into Departures; they let people camp at the airport here. Perhaps waylaid travellers with nowhere to sleep? Those cardboard placards written in Spanish must be thank you cards, or perhaps a poster reading ‘Please wake me when FT413 to Lima departs’. The people in tents didn't look too happy, ungrateful sods, but perhaps it’s because David Nalbandian was losing the tennis.
Ushuaia, tick, and we were heading back up north.
A few days at the magnificent Perito Moreno glacier outside El Calafate and we'd forgotten all about those grumpy men in tents.
More poor fools at Calafate airport! Queues out the door, more shouting people with posters and, inside the terminal, a thousand backpackers strewn on the floor as if some gap-year tsunami had washed through just moments before.
But Señorita Luck had followed us to the airport. One look at our Business Class tickets – a rare moment of upgrade serendipity – and the security guard ushered us away from the poor, huddled masses. No plastic chairs and yesterday's coffee for us. Rather another Quilmes lager in the liberty of the business class lounge icebergs floated by on Lago Argentino at the end of the runway.
Cruising at 35 000-feet, yet another jamon y queso in hand (you can't cross the road in Argentina without being offered a ham and cheese sandwich) and all was going according to plan. A few days in the alpine holiday town of San Carlos de Bariloche and we'd soon be winging our way back to Cape Town and a shed-load of boxes.
Bariloche, as it's less tongue-twistingly known, is one of the delights of Argentina. Dark, deep lakes flow in and around densely wooded shores offering days of watery wandering. Chocolate shops lie in wait on every other corner of this postcard-perfect town, ready to ambush unsuspecting weight-watchers.
A short drive away, the Cerro Catedral offers Argentina's best skiing and, in early summer, it's just the spot to admire the view, start a snowball fight and lose a few toes to frostbite.
Bariloche is also backpacker-central for this stretch of the Andes. A place to hire a car, wash some clothes, book tickets and… find an English newspaper.
"Aerolineas Argentinas grounded," screamed one headline. "Striking workers down tools," jeered another.
“Best-laid plans fall to pieces" was the one running through my head as the poster-waving campers fell into place.
Ah yes, the Argentines love a good strike as much as the French. We had no idea what they were striking about, but with just one day to get back to Buenos Aires for our flight home we knew we were in trouble. If we didn’t make the plane to Cape Town we’d be stuck in BA for three days. 7000 kilometres away boxes were waiting to be packed. Not even a ham and cheese sandwich could cheer us up.
But there’s a strange camaraderie amongst backpackers. A Swedish traveller said she’d heard from somebody who’d heard from somebody that there would be one plane out of town that night. One plane and one plane only. A rescue flight sent to evacuate tourists stranded by striking pilots. The irony was almost amusing. Almost.
Passport and tickets in hand we bolted down Avenida San Martin to the airline office. Only this time we were cast down with the masses. A queue of people begging to get on the last flight out. Number 83 in the queue. Qué desastre!
To cut a long story short, there was an interminable wait. There was elbowing. There were angry words muttered in a dozen different languages. There were tears, I won’t say whose, and there was begging and pleading. There was also, however, two boarding passes for the 7pm flight out.
If my white tongue could ululate we would have made the Andes ring with the songs of the Transkei. I may have hugged the desk clerk, I can’t be sure. I promised never again to rank the meat-feast asado beneath the braai on the hierarchy of macho fireside rituals.
One long night at the grandly-titled and poorly-equipped Grand Hotel España and we were on our way home. Buenos Aires behind us, boxes ahead. There I am… stuck with another ham and cheese sandwich.
Published in The Weekender, 29/30 August 2009
|
Time takes on a whole new meaning on Medjumbe Private Island.
“We set the clocks one hour forward here on Medjumbe,” Jacqui, one of the ever-friendly management team on the island, had told us. “We’ve declared our own little time zone, so that you have more daylight to enjoy yourself!”
I’ve heard of time standing still when you find yourself standing on one of the earth’s most beautiful beaches, but rarely does it shift into the future!
But with the sun rising early and setting all-too-soon it’s the best form of daylight saving, providing a precious extra hour each day to explore what must surely be one of the world’s most perfect islands; one I’d happily be marooned on.
Cast away in the northern reaches of Mozambique’s Quirimbas Archipelago, the island has no fresh water (so no malaria-carrying mosquitoes to worry about) and was uninhabited before RANI Resorts built 13 luxurious chalets here four years ago.
Back then the only visitors were occasional fishermen from the mainland, although they still paddle out to the island most days; their dugout canoes filled with fresh fish, prawns and lobster to satisfy the healthy appetites of the island’s hungry guests.
And it’s surprising how hungry you can get doing nothing. For Medjumbe lends itself to laziness. A hammock swings seductively from the balcony of your chalet, carefully shaded by a palm thatch roof. Sun loungers lie in wait by your private plunge pool, ready to ensnare an unwary traveller. What more is there to do than sit back and order another local 2M beer? Just ask for a ‘dosh-em’.
Not that sloth is your only option, of course.
A walk around the island is a sure-fire way to work up an appetite and feel like an explorer all at the same time. Just one kilometre long and a mere 350-metres-wide when the tide rushes in to cover the island’s fringing coral reef, a circumnavigation takes just over an hour.
It’s also the perfect way to spot some of the island’s diverse birdlife. With few predators and plentiful fish, the island is home to over 50 species of birds, from migratory terns to Grey Heron and Water Thick Knee. Keep a special eye out for the African Fish Eagles that often frequent the island’s rich fishing waters.
And it’s not just the birds that make the most of the marine life. There’s excellent game fishing for marlin, wahoo and dorado to be had in the depths, or simply cast a line straight off the beach and you could hook a pompano, kingfish or barracuda.
Out in the distance the swells of the Mozambique Channel thunder onto Medjumbe’s protective reef, which is also home to some of the island’s top dive sites.
There are a range of spots a few minutes boat ride from the beach, and with no other resorts in sight you’ll have them all to yourself. There are plenty of shallow dives for beginners, but more experienced bubble-blowers get the pick of the crop with majestic wall-dives such as ‘Edge of Reason’ which drops from 16-metres into the big blue, bringing deep-sea pelagics up from the depths.
As surely as the sun drops behind the mainland to the west, your walk will invariably lead you back to your luxury chalet, one of just a handful on the island.
Palm thatch rustles in the wind, while inside air-conditioned luxury awaits on hot summer nights. With outdoor showers and romantic Arabesque furnishings, this is Robinson Crusoe escapism in five-star style and the perfect destination for honeymooners.
But just because you’re marooned on a tiny tropical island doesn’t mean you have to go without. Medjumbe’s all-inclusive rates mean you can indulge to your heart’s content. Fresh seafood is a highlight of almost every meal, whether served in the laid-back dining area or out around the pool with its gorgeous sunset views… and why not another dosh-em to toast another great day of island living.
A dress code for dinner? Forget it… this is the kind of place where you kick your shoes off on the runway and collect them when you leave. You’ll be hard-pressed to leave, mind you, but sooner or later your ride back to civilisation will come dropping out of the sky and down onto the impossibly short runway.
A breathtaking take-off later and Medjumbe is soon disappearing into the distance, a gleaming comma of golden sand silhouetted against the big blue Indian Ocean.
But if you can’t bear the thought of getting back to reality just yet, then speak nicely to your pilot and perhaps he’ll drop you off at Matemo Island en route.
Where Medjumbe is honeymoon heaven, Matemo – a 20-minute flight away – is ideal for families, with a wide sandy beach and safe swimming. Palm trees wave above the 24 bungalows strung out like fallen coconuts across the northern tip of Matemo. Offering the epitome of barefoot luxury, it’s out of your bungalow and straight onto a beach with sand so white you’ll need sunglasses!
There are also activities a-plenty, so the kids will be entertained while you gaze out into the distance and forget all about bills and bosses. Sea kayaks, waterskiing, windsurfers and sailing boats are all on hand to make the days fly by. The sheltered waters off the sand spit north of the main lodge is one of the best places for a dip or a snorkel, offering safe swimming on the sand and coral outcrops a little further offshore.
Like Medjumbe, Matemo also offers excellent scuba diving. No surprise really, as the 1500-square-kilometre Quirimbas National Park provides a welcome sanctuary for sea turtles, dugongs, dolphins and whales, as well as an abundance of fish life.
It’s not all about sun-loungers and water-sports though… it’s well worth exploring the cultural side of the Quirimbas too.
The strong, steady trade winds that today push holidaymakers on Hobie Cats gave birth to centuries of Arab and Portuguese commerce along the coast of East Africa, sending dhows laden with cargo — human and otherwise — to exotic trading posts like Bagamoyo, Mombasa and Zanzibar.
Ibo Island, a short boat ride from Matemo, is a fascinating look back into the region’s tumultuous past, with excellent guided tours bringing the history of the island to life. Stay for a few nights and you’ll also get to enjoy kayaking through mangrove forests and days spent on deserted sand-spits.
Closer to home, tours to the villages on Matemo are a popular excursion and a good way to sample the local culture as well as stock up on souvenirs.
This rich heritage of the Quirimbas is gently reflected in Matemo’s main lodge, which is decorated in an Arabian style with a laid-back tropical touch. Moroccan lamps cast a kaleidoscope of colours on the walls, throw cushions and rugs adorn the comfortable bar area, hookah pipes beg to be smoked after dinner and a menagerie of old clocks keeps time until the next delicious meal.
And if seafood’s your weakness you certainly won’t be disappointed.
While lunches are usually a la carte – with a selection of light meals offering up to five courses for the gluttonous – dinners are the real highlight. Swop stories around the bar before wandering over to the restaurant, or to a table on the pool terrace, where a gourmet menu or generous buffet awaits.
Expect tables groaning with crayfish, prawns and crab, which you can enjoy guilt-free – lodge manager Tony Vernon-Driscoll says he refuses to buy under-sized seafood in a bid to educate local fishermen about sustainable harvesting from the sea.
It’s an eco-friendly approach that runs throughout Medjumbe and Matemo; bringing sustainable tourism to this far-flung corner of Mozambique. With beach bucketfuls of barefoot luxury and friendly, down-to-earth staff happy to make any dream come true, it’s hard not to be seduced by the island style of the Quirimbas.
ESSENTIAL INFO
- For more information on Matemo Island and Medjumbe Private Island, visit www.raniresorts.com or call +27 11 467 1277.
- Linhas Aéreas de Moçambique (LAM) fly three times per week from Johannesburg to Pemba, via Maputo. For reservations call 011 615 9588 or visit www.flylam.co.za. From Pemba you’ll need a transfer by light aircraft to reach Medjumbe/Matemo.
- South Africans do not require a visa for Mozambique.
- The currency of Mozambique is the Metical (R1=3100MZM), but US dollars are widely accepted. There are no ATM or credit card facilities on Ibo Island.
- When to visit: the winter months (between May and September) offer pleasant temperatures and little rainfall, but can be windy. The hot and humid summer is a popular time to visit, although brief downpours are common throughout January and February.
|
|
|