The friendly rivalry between Sydney and Melbourne began on my connecting flight from the former to the latter.
After 16 hours in planes and airports I’m usually not much in the mood for idle chatter, but the gushing praise for my destination from the passenger across the aisle (and evidently from Melbourne) pricked up my ears. Incredible food, friendly people, a vibrant cultural scene, great sporting events… on all fronts, it seemed Melbourne was the only place in Australia to head for. And after a week wandering the city, it turns out he was right.
Melbourne has never quite grabbed the limelight like Sydney. There’s no spectacular location for those postcards home, no bronzed beach babes sunning themselves on Bondi… instead it’s the kind of place that just keeps to itself and gets on with the important business of being one of the world’s most liveable cities. And indeed it is. If I didn’t live in gorgeous Cape Town I would live in Melbourne, no question.
With a profusion of pavement cafés and leafy city streets lined with brand name boutiques it has all the style of Europe, only without the miserable weather and grumpy people. And wandering the streets is far and away the best way to experience the capital of the southern state of Victoria. The CBD is compact, clean, safe and simply made for exploring on foot.
Your best bet is to start on Swanson Street, in the heart of Melbourne. This wide shopping arcade bustles with people at almost any time of day or night, with Melbournians enjoying the shops, restaurants and nightlife of the inner-city.
Department stores and unique boutiques aside, Swanston Street is also close to the culinary heart (or should that be stomach?) of the city. Melbourne is famous for its diverse population, and the city’s many ethnic groups have happily brought their cuisine with them.
Wander down Victoria Street for Vietnamese cuisine straight out of Hanoi, or explore colourful Little Bourke Street - home to a vibrant Chinatown where you’ll find great dim sum and Peking duck. The curiously named West Lake Restaurant does an excellent yum cha service at lunchtime, where a trolley groaning with Cantonese delights meanders amongst the tables.
Hop one block over to Lonsdale Street and you’ll find the Greek precinct – Melbourne is home to the world’s largest Hellenic population outside of Greece and you’ll find mouth-watering souvlaki and mezze dishes here. Nearby Lygon Street is home to a clutch of Italian restaurants, but the beckoning waiters on the pavement can sometime be a little heavy on the kitsch.
When your feet get tired from pounding the pavement hop on the free City Circle tram. Melbourne has the largest tram network in the world, with 249 kilometres of double track and over 1770 tram stops. On the City Circle line a tram comes along every 12 minutes for most of the day, and is free of charge. A useful audio commentary lets you know where you are on the line and where to alight for particular attractions.
Heading past the historic Flinders Street station the tram trundles towards the newest part of the city, the Docklands. It’s here that a new suburb of glamorous and gleaming high-rise skyscrapers is growing, a relatively new concept in a city of sprawling suburbs with large gardens for the weekend ‘barbie’.
Hop off the tram at Docklands for a wander along the quayside where eco-friendly public gardens provide welcome green spaces and striking street art decorates the brand new promenades. Across the road, the gleaming Etihad Stadium awaits raucous nights of Aussie Rules football. Once you’ve admired the quirky ‘Cow up a tree’ statue, take a stroll along the promenade to the James Squire Brewhouse & Restaurant at Waterfront City to sample one of Australia’s finest beers.
Hop back on the City Circle tram and ride a few more stops to the corner of La Trobe and King Streets from where it’s a short walk to the Queen Victoria Market.
There’s been a market here for over 130 years and five days a week (it’s closed Mondays and Wednesdays) it bustles with locals filling up shopping baskets, and tourists gazing in wonder at the fantastic array of fresh produce on offer.
Piles of fresh herbs lie alongside mounds of fresh veggies and cherry-red tomatoes in the vegetable hall. A fishmonger crows about his fresh Trevally and Coral Perch, while a mound of Swimmer crabs from Australia lie amongst a field of Chilean scallops.
In the meat hall racks of Australian lamb get wrapped in paper and tucked into shopping baskets alongside gourmet sausages, free-range wild rabbit and organic ducks. Or fillets of kangaroo, if you’re feeling particularly unpatriotic; Australia is one of few countries in the world to devour its national emblems.
All in all it’s an epicurean’s dream shopping arcade, but if – like me – you’re in a city hotel for the week there’s little chance to cook up a storm. Instead you’ll have to stock up on picnic goodies in the deli hall where rounds of cheeses, buckets of olives and stacks of cured meats beg to be piled on fresh sour dough from the bakery and enjoyed on a picnic blanket in one of the city’s many gardens.
And green space abounds in Melbourne. Next door to the market is the historic Flagstaff Gardens – once a harbour signal station and lookout in the 1840s – which is a convenient spot for tucking into your picnic goodies on a sunny afternoon.
Across town, the Fitzroy Gardens lies right on the edge of the city centre, yet is another wonderful escape from the crowds.
Laid out in the shape of a Union Jack (although this is only visible from the air), the garden’s acres of lawns in the shade of English Elm and sprawling Moreton Bay Fig trees offer dozens of perfect picnic spots. The gardens are also home to one of Melbourne’s most curious tourist attractions; the family home of explorer Captain James Cook.
The humble cottage originally stood in the village of Great Ayton in Yorkshire, northern England, but was moved lock, stock and barrel to Melbourne in 1934 where it was reassembled – brick by brick – to celebrate the centenary of the state of Victoria. Careful research and restoration mean that today it closely resembles the cottage Captain Cook returned to in 1771 after ‘discovering’ Australia on one of his famous Pacific voyages.
If Cook hadn’t met his maker in a battle in Hawaii I like to think he’d approve of having Melbourne as his new abode. Melbourne is certainly one of the world’s most liveable cities, but it’s also a city that tempts and entertains tourists.
After enjoying incredible food, exploring a cosmopolitan city and meeting ever-friendly locals I think the Melbourne-fan in the airline seat next to me may just have been right. Perhaps Melbourne is the most exciting city in Australia… but just don’t tell the Sydneysiders.
IF YOU GO:
- Go to www.visitmelbourne.com for more information on planning your visit.
- Qantas flies six times per week from Johannesburg to Sydney, with regular connections to Melbourne. Visit www.qantas.com.au.
- South African visitors require a visa to visit Australia.
First published in the Saturday Star Travel Section, 1 August 2009 |
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
The hammering of the chisel as it cuts into the hull of the dhow is all that disturbs the silence. Midday in late-summer on Ibo island and the enveloping heat drives most people into the shade, save perhaps the odd goat bleating its way along the sandy road in front of Ibo Island Lodge. The carpenters though are hard at work, repairing the traditional boat that stands braced up on the sand.
In the distance the falling tide leaves the roots of the mangrove forests exposed. They look like stilt-walkers, balancing precariously on legs too thin for top-heavy bodies. A fishing dhow tacks against the falling tide, its traditional lateen sail flapping in the southerly trade wind known as the kusi.
It’s a scene that hasn’t changed much in centuries. Men have repaired and sailed their dhows here since the 1500s, and it was the kusi that took Arabian trading dhows as far afield as Zanzibar and Oman, their holds of spices exchanged for ivory, amber and slaves.
When the Portuguese sailed into these waters in 1522 they could see the Arabs had a good thing going and attacked the fort on Ibo, setting the stage for nearly 250 years of colonisation.
“The Chinese were here too,” says Peter Stroucken, the unflappable manager of Ibo Island Lodge, over dinner that evening. “There’s a Chinese graveyard at the back of the village with inscriptions in Mandarin. They came here for the sea cucumbers to ship back east.”
Sea cucumbers, slavery and a Portuguese fort… perhaps not what you were expecting from tropical paradise?
The Quirimbas archipelago in Mozambique’s far north is best known for its islands’ soft white beaches, exquisite coral reefs and five-star Robinson Crusoe lodges. But Ibo… Ibo appeals to a different sort of traveller. A traveller looking to feel the soul of a destination, not just soak up the picture-postcard views. A voyager who’s happy to get lost in the history and drink in the atmosphere of a place that’s an echo of a time long since lost.
Ibo Island is just that place; an island where you wish the walls could talk and tell you of the sights they’ve seen. Talk they can’t, but a window of removed plaster certainly offers a whisper of the history behind Ibo Island Lodge.
“This main lodge building used to be the old registry office for the island,” explains Peter. “The bedrooms next door are in what was once the governor’s house,”
Unlike many of the island’s crumbling buildings, Ibo Island Lodge is exquisite; restored to its former glory and furnished in the style that may well have graced the governor’s residence back in the day. Four-poster beds and cool screed floors grace the lodge’s fourteen en-suite rooms scattered around tranquil gardens.
High ceilings soar above spaces filled with loved and lived-in furniture, either imported from India as the Portuguese would have done or handcrafted locally. Thick walls of coral brick keep the rooms cool and airy, while outside on the veranda a hand-carved wooden bench simply begs to be sat on.
It’s here that I find myself gazing out over the receding tide, the carpenter’s rhythmic hammering somehow soothing on this humid afternoon. There’s scant time for sea-gazing though, as Ali is chomping at the bit to get going.
Walking tours through the village are one of the main attractions of staying on Ibo, and the lodge’s well-trained guides such as Ali – who grew up here – are adept at bringing the island’s history to life.
First stop is one of three forts built by the Portuguese to keep any trading competition at bay. In his lilting Kimwani– the local dialect of KiSwahili – Ali explains how the Portuguese kept a firm hand on the slave trade that supplied the booming plantation islands of Mauritius and Reunion.
At the Customs House around the corner shelves of records lie neglected, a broken window letting in the rain and salty sea air. I flip through a ream or two and see that the earliest date back to the mid-1800s; a time when Ibo was the centre of trade for Northern Mozambique, a fashionable and prosperous outpost of Portugal. This was the island’s heyday; before trade routes shifted, slavery was abolished and the island began its slow decline.
We walk on… past grinning kids, a bustling spaza shop, a noisy carpentry school, another Portuguese Fort. Since I last visited in 2006 the island seems to have turned a corner; buildings are being renovated, and a new guesthouse is having its final coat of whitewash slapped on. Ibo’s tourism appeal could just be its new goldmine.
Or perhaps that should be silver mine.
The island is famous for its silversmiths, a craft said to date back over 800 years to when the first Muslim traders arrived here. There are now over 40 traditional silversmiths on Ibo and the best place to watch them at work is the star-shaped Fort of São João Batista, the last stop on our walking tour.
On the cool flagstones a dozen or so artisans patiently fashion molten silver into delicate bands. In the fort’s old kitchen an old man uses a makeshift bellows to heat the small furnace, melting raw silver.
Ali tells us that Ibo’s fine filigree jewellery was originally made from colonial-era Portuguese coins, melted down and refashioned into the delicate bracelets, rings and necklaces.
On a rickety table the finished product is laid out for tourists to haggle over. An exquisite bracelet that won me many brownie points with my wife cost just a few hundred rand. A small price to pay!
From the ramparts of the fort I notice that the tide is coming in, lapping at the leaves of the mangrove trees. Time to go snorkelling.
Delving into Ibo’s history is one of the island’s main attractions, but diving into the depths off the fringing coral reef is just as rewarding. It’s not long before we are a few hundred metres offshore and rolling backwards into the water. The kusi has stirred up the silt and dropped the visibility, but there is still much to entertain us.
Fire-fish float between the coral bommies, baby moray eels leer at us as we fin past and small barracuda hunt on the surface. Watch out for those tropical sea urchins; their needles wait patiently for an unwary sole.
When we surface the sun is on its last legs, dropping quickly to the west, and the Lodge’s rooftop restaurant is calling.
One of the highlights of Ibo Island Lodge comes at the end of the day, when there’s simply no excuse not to kick back on the rooftop’s colourful cushions, cold 2M (the local beer… just ask for a ‘dosh-em’) in hand and drink in the outstanding sunset views.
It’s been a busy day and my stomach is grumbling its unhappiness.
“We’ve got crab curry for dinner,” says Therin, Peter’s wife and co-manager, as plates of steamed crab claws arrive for starters. “The crabs here are some of the best in Mozambique, caught in the mangroves this morning.”
The curry is outstanding, and I get to see those mangroves up close the next morning on one of the lodge’s regular kayak trips.
Harris, the lodge’s senior guide, makes piloting the sea kayak across the channel look so, so easy, but it takes me awhile to get the hang of the rudder and keep us in a straight line.
In between paddling tips Harris brings the mangroves to life, explaining the life cycle of these unique trees that can thrive in both salt- and fresh-water.
“When the seed pod falls off the tree it must sprout roots within two hours,” he explains, “Otherwise the tide will simply wash it away.”
Mangrove forests have protected and provided for the islanders since time immemorial: shielding the shoreline from storms, providing wood for their dhows and a nursery for the fish that are their livelihood. As if to prove the point a shoal of fingerlings explodes out of the water at the tree line.
“Probably being chased by the Mangrove Snapper,” says Harris, as we begin our paddle back to the lodge. We’re running out of time and we need to get back to the lodge before the tide turns. We have an appointment with a sandbank.
Ibo Island Lodge may not have white sands on its doorstep, but my last morning there was spent on the best beach I have ever wiggled my toes into. All it takes to get there is a boat and a tide-table.
The lodge’s dhow motors slowly away from Ibo, heading north towards Matemo Island. My suitcase is stashed on the deck and I wave a silent goodbye to Ibo Island Lodge…
Harris points out a speck of white in the distance; The Sandbank is just beginning to poke its gleaming crown above the water. The Fort of São João Batista disappears behind our wake and 20-minutes after leaving the lodge we are marooned on a deserted island. No water, no civilisation. We couldn’t be happier.
Myself and the other guests hit the sand running to explore our piece of paradise while the crew set up camp for the afternoon. Within minutes a Bedouin-style tent shades a table set for lunch, umbrellas and beach towels are laid on for couples to relax under, and a small fire (thoughtfully downwind) is lit. The Kingfish reeled in on the way over is coming soon to a table near you.
“The bar is open!” beams Harris, rattling the ice blocks in the cooler.
The crystal clear waters off the sand spit become our private playground. A father and son frogmarch towards some snorkelling. One half of a honeymoon couple (guess which!) grabs a fishing rod to try his luck off the point, while a young Swiss couple just sit and stare, almost in disbelief, at their surroundings. And the two South Africans? Well, we find a plank of wood and a wayward coconut and start up an impromptu session of beach cricket; Quirimbas-style!
Before we know it though, lunch is served, the fish is finished and the tide is coming in. No matter, my ride to the next island is just pulling onto the sandbank and it’s time to move on. So long Ibo, and thanks for all the fish.
ESSENTIAL INFO
- For more information on Ibo Island Lodge visit www.iboisland.com, email
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or call 021 702 0285.
- Linhas Aéreas de Moçambique (LAM) fly three times per week from Johannesburg to Pemba, via Maputo. From Pemba, it’s a 20-minute transfer by light aircraft to Ibo Island. For reservations call 011 615 9588 or visit www.flylam.co.za.
- Mozambique Travel.com can assist with flight bookings and packages to properties throughout Mozambique. Visit www.mozambiquetravel.com.
- 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.
Originally published in Shape magazine; August 2009. |
I’ve always imagined stargazing to be a fairly solemn, solitary activity. Bearded men with sensible shoes peering up at the heavensthrough their glass telescopes. It never sounded like much fun, to be honest.
The reality, however, is quite different and meanders through the Milky Way are rapidly becoming a popular family activity for starry-eyed South Africans. To keep up with demand, B&Bs, guesthouses and game farms are offering astronomy weekends to keep you up after dark.
For a clear view of the stars you’ll do best to head out into the country, but if time is short and the petrol tank is low there are a few spots close to SA’s major cities where you can get up close and personal with the cosmos.
So what are your options if you’ve fancy having a gander at some heavenly bodies… other than the wife, that is.
Sutherland
For stargazing in South Africa there is really only one place to start: Sutherland. This small town 360 kilometres from Cape Town is home to… well, not much really. And that’s exactly why it has attracted astronomers from across the globe.
Nearly 1500m above sea level, and far enough inland to receive very little rainfall, the crystal clear skies here are simply perfect for gazing heavenwards. The collection of domes 20 kilometres outside of town has been the headquarters of the South Astronomical Observatory (SAAO) since 1972, but it’s only recently that this patch of dusty Karoo had South Africans star-struck.
And it’s all thanks to the large chunk of glass known as SALT; the Southern African Large Telescope. With a mirror measuring 11-metres across, SALT is the most powerful optical telescope in the southern hemisphere – able to detect light a billion times too faint to be seen with the human eye; the equivalent of a candle burning on the surface of the moon!
SALT has certainly brought South Africa astronomy stardom, but it has also drawn in the tourists.
For a wander amongst the various domes that make up the observatory, and a peek inside SALT, the SAAO offers informative guided daytime tours (Monday to Friday, 10h30 and 14h30; Saturday 11h30 and 14h30; R20pp). The informative visitor centre offers a good – if a little dry – introduction to the hard science behind astronomy, so expect a bit of a brain workout as you grapple with the concepts of refraction, the speed of light and exploding gases.
However, it’s the night tours that are the, ahem, star attraction.
The 90-minute tour is your opportunity to get a close-up view of the rings of Saturn, the moons of Jupiter and a bevy of other celestial beauties through two hefty telescopes. I challenge you not to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at the sight of Saturn’s racetrack of rock and dust!
About the only downside to the night tours is that you won’t be able to visit any of the main telescopes or SALT itself… they are being used by astronomers, of course!
The night tours (Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday; R40pp) are extremely popular and must be booked in advance.
Cape Town
South Africa’s eyes to the universe may gaze out of Sutherland, but its soul is in the heart of the Mother City.
In the suburb of – you guessed it – Observatory you’ll find the original home of South Africa’s starry-eyed scientists. On the site of the former Royal Observatory (1828-1971) are the offices and laboratories where the reams of data collected in Sutherland are decoded.
The SAAO throws open its gates to the public twice a month (second and fourth Saturday, 20h00, free) offering the chance to peer through a range of powerful telescopes. To celebrate the International Year of Astronomy 2009, these evenings also include a fascinating lecture on everything from the search for extra-terrestrial life to the birth and death of stars.
Cederberg
Coming in a close second to Sutherland in the clear-sky stakes is the magnificent Cederberg Mountains, some 250 kilometres north of Cape Town.
To stargaze in style, the luxurious Bushmanskloof Wilderness Reserve in the northern Cederberg is offering two value-for-money stargazing weekends (20-22 Sept, 8-10 November) with Cliff Turk; a fellow of the Royal Astronomical Society.
Turk is also one of the passionate volunteers who own and run the Cederberg Astronomical Observatory. On the doorstep of Cederberg Cellars – do taste their excellent ‘wines with altitude’ – the Observatory is open most Saturday evenings; closing only when the moon is full or winter storms obscure the heavens. There’s no charge for their stargazing events, but donations are welcome.
Swellendam
If rugged isn’t your scene, perhaps the pastoral Hermitage Valley will suit?
Just a few minutes from Swellendam in the picturesque Overberg, this secret valley against the Langeberg Mountains is the largest producer of Youngberries in the world. No surprise then that it’s also home to the delicious Wildebraam Berry Liqueur... just the thing to keep away the stargazing chills at bay!
The Wildebraam estate holds weekly astronomy evenings (Mondays, or min. 4 people, R80pp) with Swellendam Stargazers.
Heading north
A stopover in the Hermitage is perfect if you’re exploring the Garden Route, but what about those doing the N1 run between Gauteng and Cape Town?
The clear Karoo skies are ideal for stargazing, and a number of guest farms offer astronomy weekends on request. Louis Barendse of Big Skies Astronomy – also the co-host of ‘Sterre-en-Planete’ on Radio RSG – hosts entertaining astronomy evenings on the Karoo Gariep Conservancy and Noorspoort Guest Farm. His talks cover everything from a Beginners’ Guide to the Galaxy to Mars’ Little Green Men!
The Boyden Observatory a short way outside of Bloemfontein is also worth a visit, but stargazing evenings are by appointment only. If that’s a little far-flung you can also wish upon a star just a short drive from the bright lights of Gauteng.
Cradle to the galaxy
The Aloe Ridge Hotel in Muldersdrift is home to a gargantuan 25” telescope; the largest privately owned telescope in South Africa! Their regular “Astronomy with gastronomy” evenings (R100pp, excluding dinner) offer a wonderful three-course meal – expect dishes like Sunspot Soup, Ravioli Balls of Fire and Black Hole Beef Fillet – served with a dollop of after-dinner comet-hunting!
There’s a similar gourmet and galaxies evening on offer at nearby Maropeng, the official visitor centre for The Cradle of Humankind World Heritage Site. Themed stargazing evenings (from 6pm, R295 including 3-course dinner) are held monthly, with resident astronomer Vincent Nettmann on hand to guide you across the heavens through his range of large aperture telescopes.
Much has changed in the Cradle of Humankind since Australopithecus africanus and his pre-human buddies wandered these hills, pursued by sabre-toothed cats and long-legged hunting hyenas, but by and large one thing has remained the same. We’re still looking up at the same old stars.
First published in AA Traveller magazine; Winter 2009 |
Paul Simon is running through my head as I trudge through the sandy streets of Kolmanskop.
 “People say she's crazy,
She got diamonds on the soles of her shoes.
Well that's one way to lose these walking blues.
Diamonds on the soles of her shoes.”
It's unlikely that the shorter half of Simon & Garfunkel ever wandered the windswept hills outside Lüderitz on Namibia's southwest coastline, but his song couldn't have been more fitting.
In 1909 railway workers laying tracks to the interior literally stumbled over diamonds lying loose on the white sands of the desert stretching east, giving rise to Lüderitz's remarkable boom and inevitable bust. Fortune-seekers came from across the globe and transformed the small trading town first settled in 1883 by one Adolf Lüderitz.
Enterprising young miners became millionaires overnight, but as the diamonds became harder to find and two World Wars took their toll, Lüderitz slipped slowly into the quiet little spot it is today.
Fishing and rock lobster took the place of gleaming gems as the source of the town’s wealth, but even those are dwindling. The diamonds of Kolmanskop may be long gone, but the source of that great wealth has brought a new goldmine to the town: tourism.
Kolmanskop and the diamond ghost towns
Lying 15-kilometres outside town, Kolmanskop was once one of the most prosperous towns in southern Africa. Home to 300 German diamond workers and nearly 1000 local labourers, the town was a bustling centre which boasted its own swimming pool, school, bowling alley and even attracted European opera stars to perform in the entertainment hall!
Such was the wealth that water for the residents was shipped all the way from Cape Town, and the town was home to southern Africa’s first X-ray machine. The jury's still out on whether it was intended for uncovering smuggled diamonds or medical emergencies!
Today the village has become a ghostly reminder of the bustling diamond days. Guided tours of Kolmanskop take place daily, with well-informed guides bringing the ruined buildings to life. However, it is well worth exploring on your own for an hour or two, so get there early and wander the deserted streets before the crowds arrive. You might even spot the town's only ‘permanent’ resident; a wandering Brown Hyena. Do stop in at the small museum with its entertaining display of the ingenious ways miners tried to smuggle out diamonds, and end off with a tasty scone from the tearoom.
Kolmanskop is certainly the most famous of the area's ghost towns, but a number of other villages lie crumbling in the desert, and can be visited on day-tours from Lüderitz.
If ghost towns are your thing, a number of local tour companies combine a Kolmanskop tour with a trip to Elizabeth Bay, an even more spectacular deserted town deep in the Sperregebiet – 'forbidden zone' – to the south of Lüderitz. Because this is still a restricted diamond-mining zone these tours need to be booked in advance, but are worth planning ahead for. Most tours also include a visit to the spectacular Bogenfels Arch.
Goerke Haus
The houses of Kolmanskop may lie desolate and deserted, the relentless wind blowing sand through doorways and ripping shutters from window-frames, but some of the magnificent Art Nouveau homes built by wealthy diamond barons still stand proud in the city streets today.
The most famous of these is Goerke Haus, which sits regally on Am Diamantberg Street. Hans Goerke, once the Inspector of Mines, was a powerful man in Lüderitz and his multi-story mansion offers a wonderful glimpse at the way life was lived when diamonds were plentiful and the world was Lüderitz's oyster.
Goerke Haus is open to the public most days of the week except when executives from De Beers, who still mine in the area, use it as their Lüderitz home away from home. Keep an eye out for the magnificent stained glass windows on the staircase.
Church on the rock
A few steps away from Goerke Haus, the Felsenkirche dominates the skyline above Lüderitz.
Built in 1912, the Felsenkirche is grey and brooding from the outside, but it’s a stern outlook that is transformed the moment you step through the doors.
Stained glass windows of Martin Luther (this is a Lutheran church after all) and passages from the Bible dominate the walls, casting a luminous yellow and red light across the pews. Look out behind the altar for the family crests of the German aristocracy who donated many of the windows.
The Felsenkirche is open for an hour each afternoon: this changes according to the season, so it’s best to check the church door for times. From the Felsenkirche, be sure to climb the eponymous ‘rock’ for the best view in town. A 360-degree vista falls away below you; windswept Second Lagoon to your left, the bustling fishing harbour dead ahead and the sweeping curve of Agate beach to your right. In the far distance, the towering dunes of the Namib Desert held at bay by the Atlantic.
Wild horses of the Namib
Being the wild, inhospitable places they are, deserts are good at keeping secrets, and one of the best Namibia has to offer is to be found where the Namib peters out to the east of town.
Nobody’s quite sure where the wild horses of the Namib came from, but after years of research the commonly accepted theory is that they are descendants of South African army horses that escaped during the First World War.
Decades later the horses have adapted to their harsh life in the desert, which often entails walking up to 70-kilomeres a day to find grazing. To ensure the continued survival of the herds a waterhole has been set up on the road from Lüderitz to Aus, and the ‘hide’ there makes it easy to get close to these magnificent creatures.
Head out to sea
From the desert to the deep blue sea, Lüderitz is perched between the Namib and the icy Atlantic and when the wind calms (Autumn and Spring are best) a trip onto the big blue is a must.
A popular option is one of the regular sailings on the heritage schooner ‘Sedina’, which runs daily charters out past Dias Point and on to Halifax Island, home to a colony of African penguins. If you’re travelling in a group, local tour guide Günther Berens offers charters on his sailing yacht 'Sturmvogel', and sunset cruises can also be arranged. Both boats leave from the revamped waterfront development, which has become a popular spot for shopping and dining.
Diaz Point
The seas off Lüderitz have a rich maritime history, stretching back to the 1400s when the Portuguese stopped off here en route to India. Explorer Bartolomeu Dias erected a padrão at Diaz Point on his homeward voyage to Portugal in 1488 after rounding the Cape of Good Hope, and a replica of the cross can still be seen on the Point today.
It’s a stormy, windswept place, but makes for a wonderful excursion from town. A well-marked self-drive route takes you out past Radford Bay – named for an English trader who lived here in the mid-1800s – and on to Second Lagoon.
This is the first of a number of excellent bird-watching spots, and you’ll find Curly Sandpipers, Grey lapwings, flamingos and myriad waders here at various times of the year. Thanks to its flat water and strong summer winds this is also a favoured spot for high-speed kite- and windsurfing!
On the exposed Atlantic coastline, Grossebucht (Big Bay) is a wild and woolly spot for walking, and the dunes just inland are home to a breeding colony of the endangered Damara Tern. Take your binoculars for as spot of bird watching, but don't drive off-road!
Where to stay
After a windswept day you’ll want somewhere comfortable to retreat to. There are a number of hotel and family-run B&Bs in Lüderitz, but far and away the best place to stay in town is The Nest Hotel.
Perched right on the water’s edge all of the rooms are sea facing, but the best bet are the ground floor rooms which have sliding doors opening right onto the water and offer magnificent views across the lagoon. Lüderitz is home to a sizeable fishing fleet and you’ll find a variety of fresh seafood, including the famous Lüderitz oysters and Rock Lobsters, in the hotel’s Penguin Restaurant.
Other good options are the Protea Hotel Sea-View Zum Sperrgebiet or the low-key Bayview Hotel in the centre of town.
Sea views are unavoidable in Luderitz, as are desert vistas. Crowded between the icy Atlantic and hostile Namib desert, Lüderitz is perhaps not unlike the gems which gave the town life exactly 100 years ago this year. Tough on the outside, yet gleaming and enchanting when you take the time to discover and polish your find. A rough diamond, lying quietly in the sands, just waiting to be discovered.
First published in Explore Namibia; Winter 2009 |
I had The Hollies in the back seat of my Citroen. Heaven only knows what they were doing on the island of Réunion, but there they were. Allan Clarke crooning away, Graham Clarke plucking at the guitar... there was even Elton John with his baby-grand blocking the rear-view mirror.
"The road is looooooooong,
With many a winding turn.
That leads us to who knows where,
Whoooooo knows where."
"Will you chaps keep it down! I'm trying to drive!"
Well, that's what I wanted to shout at the backseat, but of course there were no '60s pop icons keeping me company. No flamboyant piano-playing rocket man to take my gaze away from the sheer drop to my right; just the panicked breathing (mine, I'm afraid to say), the sound of roaring trucks and the occasional screech of brakes to provide the soundtrack on the road to Cilaos.
Cilaos, for the uninitiated, is perhaps the most isolated village on La Réunion, a volcanic spike of untamed rock cast away in the Indian Ocean.
Generally, the island is a wonderful place to explore in a hire car. The roads are in good nick, well sign-posted (even if it is in French) and a flat freeway encircles much of the island making it easy to find your way around. Perhaps the only downside is that – as an Overseas Department of France – the locals take to the accelerator like a hungry Parisian at an all-you-can-eat foie gras buffet. With gusto.
That all changes once you head inland though. Well, the local disregard for speed limits remains the same, but the road becomes a vision from Dante's inferno, except this time the only way is up.
You've hardly left the outskirts of St. Louis when you get a taste of what’s in store. The road narrows, the hills get higher and all of a sudden you realise that you're driving in the cleft carved by molten lava through the towering Cirque de Cilaos.
Thankfully that was all a few ice-ages ago, but you can't be too careful on Réunion. The island is home to the notoriously grumpy Piton de la Fournaise – one of the world's most active lava pimples which likes to throw a tantrum every now and again and send molten rock down the east coast.
The Cirque de Cilaos is, however, pushing up the proverbial daisies. Its eruption days are over and, being the home of adventurous types, some unhinged Réunion road-builder obviously decided a near-vertical volcanic crater was the ideal place to lay some tarmac. Perhaps he had a bet with Thomas Bain, because the road to Cilaos sure as hell beats anything our local stonemason managed to put down.
The road climbs from sea-level to over 2000m in under 20 kilometres, and with switchback after switchback it's a bit like driving up the world's largest parking garage. Except the views are better.
Along the way there are over 500 bends to navigate; a good few of them blind corners where your white knuckles are too busy gripping the steering wheel to pray that a bus isn't coming round the corner. Once you've got the hang of the blind corners the devious road engineers obviously decided I needed more of a challenge.
"Ah oui, let us make zem do blind corners with ze Single Lane! Ha ha… "
Blind corner, one lane, vertical drop, left-hand drive. I had them all down pat, until I came to le piece de resistance. The pinnacle of building roads so terrifying only the brave or ignorant (I was the latter) would dare attempt them.
The blind, single-lane, rock-hewn road… drum roll please… in a tunnel!
Taking courage, a few years off my life, and my insurance policy in hand there wasn't much to do except give a few pleading hoots to the God of Oncoming Traffic and hope for the best. Merde.
Until this road was built in 1936 I would have had the colonial pleasure of making the ascent in a sedan chair, no doubt with regular stops for refreshment and perhaps a little light entertainment.
Happily, I still managed to find both on my way to the top. Granted, refreshment was little more than a baguette et fromage, and the entertainment was trying to order a simple cheese sandwich while the local café owner dissolved into fits of laughter. I didn't care. As long as I wasn't behind the wheel I was happy. Ridicule or not.
But hiding behind a cheese sandwich never got anyone to the top, so it was time for one last push. Round a loop (yes, they do 360º turns on this road), through one more tunnel and finally Cilaos hove into view.
Sweating, clutch foot shaking and with the crazed look of a man who's stared death in the eye and didn't blink, I walked into the quaint Hotel Vieux Cep.
"Bonjour," said Gerald Bernardin, the charming man behind the counter. "Welcome to Cilaos."
As I filled in the guest book a pamphlet of the town's history caught my eye.
"The legends are unclear as to how Cilaos got its name, but the most common theory is from the Malagasy word 'Tsilaosais': "The place one does not leave."
With a road like that to get here, it's no surprise nobody tried to get out!
First published in The Weekender; June 2009. |
I’d never played hide-and-seek with an elephant before and, to be honest, I’m not sure I’ll make a habit of it. Tracking elephant on foot is something one approaches with care, forethought and preparation. Unfortunately, we’d been looking for tracks in the mud at the waterhole and hadn’t expected a grumpy young bull to be down there having a drink. Neither did he, it seems, expect to have four humans interrupt his afternoon mud bath.
As we ducked low and crab-walked through the undergrowth to the other side of the water, hoping to put some space between us and the cantankerous pachyderm, I was reminded of what British travel writer AA Gill said about elephants on his first safari foray:
“Elephants in musth are best left alone. In fact, elephants on valium doing yoga are best left alone.”
I couldn’t agree more, and although our big boy may not have been in musth, he was certainly keen to come and have a word up close. We rounded the dam, he rounded the dam. We laboured through a donga to get to the other side, he simply walked through the water to pop out 20 metres ahead of us. We zigged, he zagged.
In the end I’d love to say it was my innate understanding of elephant and deeply ingrained bush knowledge that got us out of there. But truth be told, it was really down to Grant and Sifiso.
They were our guide and tracker for four days of bush training so that, in theory, we could have got ourselves out of there unscathed. The Bush Skills course is a fantastic initiative offered by Phinda Private Game Reserve, an &Beyond reserve in northern Zululand an hour or so from Richard’s Bay. This is where &Beyond trains its own rangers, so there are few better places to learn the ways of the bushveld.
The course is designed for the safari tourist who’s ticked the Big Five off their list, done time on the back of a safari vehicle… and now wants something more. Wants to understand the bush, not just be told about it. To know what it’s like to spot tracks from the chair on the bonnet. To fire the rifle that always sits silently on the dashboard. To drive a two-ton 4x4 over rough ground, all the while chatting amiably with guests behind you and identifying that brown splodge a hundred metres off as a young Nyala. And let me tell you, it’s not as easy as it looks.
The word ‘course’ conjures images of days spent in dreary boardrooms, making endless notes while someone drones on up at the front… but this couldn’t be further from the truth.
The bushveld is your boardroom for this course, where notes are jotted in the dusty soil and the agenda can be interrupted at a moment’s notice when a grumpy elephant gets in the way.
The four-days are flexible according to what the group is interested in, and your specialist ranger will tailor the day’s activities accordingly. If all you want is to track animals on foot, no problem. Want to hone your 4x4 skills; here are the keys.
However, for a little taste of everything it’s best to let your ranger and tracker set the pace. Tracking is the basis of being in the bush though, so you’ll spend a fair bit of time looking down, not up, for animals.
“See how the edges of the track are slightly rounded?” says Grant. “That tells us this track is old; the wind has blown across here and taken away the detail. Look at the grass too; it’s dried out and dead, so was trampled some time ago.”
At first they might as well be speaking Ancient Greek, but after a while you learn the language of the bush and the landscape starts to talk. Crumpled grass is no longer just crumpled; it’s where rhino have trundled through. That smooth depression in the sand? Lion have been sleeping here in the heat of the day; they left a tuft of fur on that thorn tree. The genet was here after the elephant… see how the claw marks are on top of the flattened toe-prints?
“Tracking is not just footprints in the sand though, you need to use all five senses,” says Grant over the roar of the Land Cruiser. “It’s a bit like a jigsaw puzzle, you just need to fit all the pieces together.”
They’re tiny, whispered clues to what was here before you, but piece them all together and a clear picture of the landscape emerges; animals moving from grazing to waterhole, and on to a warm spot for the night; rhino marking their territory and cats looking for their next meal.
Now spot and identify all of these while zipping along at 25km/h and you’ll have some idea of the incredible skills of the tracker and guide on your safari vehicle. You certainly won’t master them all in just four days, but you’ll certainly start to become an active part of your game drive, not a passive safari tourist.
And after a hard day on the course? Well, you have splendid accommodation to return to. During the course you’ll stay at one of Phinda’s luxurious lodges scattered throughout the reserve: Mountain Lodge (25 suites with wraparound views of the mountains), Rock Lodge (six intimate stone and adobe suites), Forest Lodge (16 suites set deep in the rare Sand Forest) and Vlei Lodge (six elegant thatched suites with private plunge pools).
The fine views from Phinda’s Mountain Lodge are where I choose to enjoy my last G&T (they’re obligatory, you know) of the trip, gazing north towards the wonderful Sand Forest where we’d earlier spotted the colourful Narina Trogon.
That rare feathered beauty had sat there silently, but the bush had seemed alive with chatter. Talking in muted tones and whispered clues; the language of the bushveld, a tongue I was just beginning to understand.
For more information on the Bish Skills course at Phinda Private Game reserve, visit www.andbeyond.com or call 011 809 4300.
Originally published in Indwe magazine, the in-flight mag of SA Express. |
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