Christmas on the coast

Separated from our loving families at Christmas time, Lisa and I determined to take our minds off our misfortune with a road trip along the coast from Cintsa (north of East London, on the Indian Ocean side) down to Cape Town. Missing parents, siblings and friends most grievously, we nevertheless found some moments of peace, and dare I say happiness, among the empty stretches of white sandy beaches, turquoise surf, and cedar forests. And in our darkest moments we found cheap solace (as well as the most delicious goat’s cheese) at a handful of the 300-odd wineries within driving distance of Cape Town.

We spent our first three nights in Cintsa, about 10 hours south and east from Pretoria via the Orange Free State. In Cintsa I learned the true meaning of a “vacation.” It is this: get out of bed whenever you damn well please, make crepes, brew coffee (which, on a true vacation, you will find in your Christmas stocking), eat yourself just shy of sick, rest, make your way down to the beach, remove shoes, walk in the surf for an hour or two until you’ve had enough sun, retire back to your shady abode, read until you succumb to your pillow, after napping put your feet up and read for a bit more, perhaps with a slice of Christmas cake and a cup of tea, make your way down to the beach, remove shoes, walk in the surf as the sun sets, retire to your cozy abode, if energy allows cook some dinner, otherwise head straight to bed. Repeat the next day. And the day after that.

On Christmas Eve we joined a big group at a nearby backpacker's for a really wonderful, traditional dinner, which was especially appreciated because it was the first and only time we truly felt that it was Christmas time. There were even crackers and paper hats! We sat at a table with a crew of Swedes, who regaled us with drinking songs (you're excommunicated in Sweden if you drink snaaps without singing) and tried to spill wine on me, twice.

From Cintsa we spent the next five days or so making our way down to Cape Town; driving a bit every day, but finding plenty of time to explore some Nature Reserves and National Parks, as well as a few nice coffee shops along the way. Highlights included Tsitsikamma National Park, which had some of the most stunning coastline I've ever seen (see title photo). Probably the most popular trail in South Africa, the Otter Trail, starts here and continues for five days of walking between huts. Without permits (which you have to book years in advance to get) we were able to do the first three kilometres of the trail, hopping across rocks and through forest to a waterfall and fresh water swimming hole directly above the ocean.

Further on towards Knysna we visited the Robberg Peninsula Nature Reserve, which sticks out two or three kilometres into the sea, home to a huge colony of seals and one of the few areas of protection for the Cape's treasured fynbos, an incredible diversity of plants with a very small range - the Cape Floral Kingdom is both the smallest and most diverse of the world's 6 such kingdoms. There are 1,300 species of plants per 10,000km2 in the region - predominantly fynbos - 900 more than in the South American rainforest.

North of George we drove the famous Swartberg pass, a short stretch of steep, sinuous gravel through a canyon of buckled rock to lovely Prince Albert, where we had our best cup of coffee on the trip - though I admit my judgment may have become clouded by the mouth-watering scone and carrot “muffin” (read: cake).

Finally, more gravel to De Hoop Nature Reserve, a great place to see the whales when they’re passing through (which they weren't), as well as zebra, blesbok and a few other omnivores, especially birds. I don’t think we saw de Hoop at its best, but we had a very nice evening walking among the tidal pools and along the dunes; a short stop before the last leg of the journey into Cape Town, which we did via Cape Agulhas (the southern-most point in Africa) and the Betty's Bay penguin colony.

We had six packed but pleasant days in CT, where we stayed with an old (as in long-time!) Akins family friend, Louky Worrel. By packed I mean busy, but also “experienced together with several million other holiday-makers.” Cape Town was busy, busy, BUSY. Nevertheless, with the exception of the odd times when we got it into our heads to actually try entering core areas, we had plenty of space to soak up this gorgeous city. Like Vancouver, Cape Town sits beneath mountains running straight into the sea, but here the landscape is even more dramatic. Favorite days were spent hiking up Table Mountain, visiting the city's wonderful botanical gardens, walking in the Cape of Good Hope Nature Reserve, and doing a few “tastings” at wineries around Stellenbosch, Paarl and Franschhoek.

To conclude I will allow myself the final paragraph to ruminate: a major “theme” for us on this trip was the strong sense that we had left Africa behind, insofar as I was in Africa to begin with, living in Pretoria. It was the most amazing trip, and aside from simply spoiling ourselves we also saw and did a great deal. But what we saw reminded me far more of home than the September issue of National Geographic, which was a special on Africa. There I read about pygmies, deserts, great apes, genocide, diamonds, oil, dictatorship, the cradle of humankind. My trip with Lisa through one small corner of this same continent featured americanos, air conditioning, wine tasting and beach combing. It was home redecorated, and warmed up a bit.

[ok, two paragraphs] As Louky correctly reminded me, however, if by “Africa” I mean abject poverty, HIV/AIDS, history, music, culture and countless other conditions that amount to a world utterly different from my own (which I do), I could have found it in the massive township (1.5 million people) five minutes from her house. This is South Africa, located most definitely, and despite my perceptions, in “Africa,” and five months after arriving here I know and understand fractionally more than nothing about it.

Trip photos here, as well as fynbos and other plants indigenous to the Cape region here (my apologies - I hope to have names for all of these one day!).

Kruger, again

I gave Lisa less than a day to recover from her 30-plus hour milkrun around the world (Kelown-Vancouver-San Franciso-Washington-Accra-Johannesburg) before whisking her off for a short trip to Kruger. It was less than two months ago that I was there last, but it’s a different place now that we’re into the rainy season. In my earlier blog post I mentioned how astonished I was that such a dry, barren-looking environment could support the quantity and diversity of incredible wildlife I saw. On this second trip, in contrast, we saw a landscape exploding in greenery. It is said that this is a less good time to visit the park (unless you’re especially into birds), because all the vegetation makes animals tougher to spot. The really big upside to this, however, is that when you’re not seeing animals there is so much more to capture your attention: the birds, for one, as well as heaps of beautiful flowers, vast plains, quiet meadows, and deep blue skies which are, in my opinion, a great improvement over the haziness of the dry season. So whereas I was totally focused on the big mammals on my first trip - because there wasn’t really anything else to focus on - I felt I gained a much fuller appreciation of the park this time.

Rather than moving through the length of the park, North to South, as I had done with Laurel, Lisa and I stayed in the South, where the greatest number of animals are found. In addition to spotting 4 of the Big 5 (no leopards), we saw all sorts of amazing creatures, including some new ones for me. Of special note: a couple little cats - a Spotted Genet, and an African Wildcat - both about the size of a house cat, 1 of only 23 pairs of Saddle-billed storks, a side-striped Jakal, a Spotted Hyena (beneath the balcony at the camp), an albino baby impala, and some Bloody Big Rhinos. Many of the animals we saw seemed much more active than they had been in October. The hippos were out and about on land (previously I’d rarely even seen them move, let alone get up out of the water!), as well as leaping about (“breaching” might be a better word here) and wrestling in the water. The male impala were knocking horns whle the females fed their babies.

The only real negative to visiting Kruger in mid-summer is that if you wish to go on a guided morning drive (we went on two), you have to get up at 3:30 in the morning. One can convince themselves that this makes for a fun adventure the first time, but come the second morning wildlife watching takes on a much paler hue. Nevertheless, I am now a certifiable Kruger fan. For a city boy from Canada it is a place of incomparable wonder, and despite the roads and people and souvenir shops, I would happily go back again and again.

Photos are here.