And new adventures begin... Cape Town is one of the most inviting cities in Africa and after having it visited about eight years ago for work, it was time to confirm my memories and experience new thrills and adventures in this MEDITERRANEAN-like city, perched on the most southwestern point of Africa, overlooked by the majestic Table Mountain range.
It was time to leave the (re)fine(d) vineyards and hills of Stellenbosch behind and head to our final destination with a far more famous hill on its background: Cape Town. Rich on both history and geography, it was a certainty on our travel itinerary to end in this Mediterranean-feel city. After having tasted those last exquisite (sparkling) wines at Simonsig, we drove into the Mother City, as its inhabitants like to call it, under a dense cloud cover, via its northern traffic vein. Navigating the steeply sloped and rather small streets, we arrived at our one-but-last accommodations on this African trip: Maarten’s Guesthouse. Our host, a jovial Dutch (speaks easier) named – du-uh – Maarten, provided some need-to-know information about what to do in and around Cape Town.
So, we kept him to his word and set out towards the shopping street of the Freysna-district, just a 10 minutes downhill walk from our guesthouse. However, the street wasn’t what we had expected from a rather upscale and residential neighborhood, so we settled for a glass of rosé wine and some delicious tapas at the front window of one of the bars on that street. Once we felt our tummies starting to really grumble, we went just three doors down to the Indian tapas restaurant of Sundoo, for a finger-licking shared meal of mixed grill, once more at the open front window, all the while watching overzealous bus drivers making U-turn over white lines, traffic cops handing out parking tickets, enthusiastic picture-taking and waving Azian bus tourists and Porsches parking as Porches park (and, we have to hand it the lady, correct it too. In three attempts). We contemplated taking an Uber going back to the guest house, since night had fell already and we heard stories about Cape Town not really being safe, especially at night. However, the guard at the restaurant’s door assured us that Freysna was perfectly safe to walk, even at night. My down-to-earth West-Flemish brain was asking itself why the need for a doorman at the restaurant then?
Ah, we arrived safe and sound at our guesthouse, so it was all OK. Our host had informed us during check-in that the kayak tour we had pre-booked for Friday morning was cancelled due to the adverse weather. We, being down-to-earth West-Flemish Antwerp brew, decided to give the kayak company a call on Friday morning at the unholy hour of 07:00 AM to confirm that. And lucky that we did, since they said that we were expected at 08:45 AM for the tour. We quickly got dressed in our swimwear, gobbled down our last Choco cornflakes, luckily complemented with an impromptu presented fruit salad and coffee by the already present guesthouse staff, although breakfast was in fact only from 08:30 AM.
After driving south an hour for a last time in our big, bad-ass SUV to Simon’s Town and a quick briefing by our guide, we went into our kayaks and paddles happily ever after towards the penguins on Bolder’s Beach. We were festively welcomed by South Africa’s naval forces: helicopters, frigates and even a submarine passing by. Luckily they did, because once at Bolder’s Beach it was quite a disappointment to not being able to really see lots of penguins. Some in the water, some from far away on the beach, but not as many or as close as Véro had hoped. Although, as Bolder’s Beach is a marine protected area, quite logical we couldn’t get too close.
The biggest surprise still had to await us. Since going back was with a headwind and it had come to speed up quite a bit in the time we spent at the beach, it was quite a struggle to paddle back to the port. So yeah, we got wet. Véro soaking (poor sod was in the front navigator seat), me just wet… Luckily the already returning submarine stopped dead in her approach towards her marine base to let us transverse the channel. Although I expected to hear any moment “torpedo in the water!” (something I wanted to shout already since I was an ignorant child)…
After a quick lunch in Simon’s Town tiny harbour, we drove via a spectacular coastal route to Cape Good Hope National park. Amidst a throng of other cars, we drove first to Cape Good Hope. Although the drive between the entrance and the Cape didn’t really convince us of the park’s beauty, the cliffs and both the Indian and Atlantic Ocean crashing onto the rocks almost literally blew us away. Oh no, wait, that was just a very strong sea breeze… We ventured up a walkway to get a panoramic view over the oceans, cliffs and throngs of tourists waiting to take a picture next to the sign saying, “Welcome to Cape Good Hope, Africa’s most southwestern point”. We did too, since, for once, we were decidedly underdressed to really venture a hike in our decent cloths of jeans and polo instead of hiking boots and T-shirt…
And then we had to drive to the airport. Not to take a flight, but to exchange our off-road-capable SUV for a much smaller compact city car… Confirmed by the fact that Véro hurt her abdominal muscles getting out of our small car the first time, fully expecting to have to jump out of it, as was the case in the SUV, but instead landing ridiculously firm on her feet… Needless to say, we didn’t really like our new car… Nor the service provided by First Car Rental, for that matter, as partner of Sixt (through which we actually booked). But hey, we got over it with a pint of craft beers and some, again, delicious pizza, Burmese noodles and even actual “bitterballen” (kind of Dutch / Belgian meatballs, very loved), which we ate at Mojo Foodmarket, down on the same strip in Freysna.
On Saturday morning we packed our bags one last time to move only 5 minutes down to an actual (ground floor) apartment, where we’d stay four more nights. We found it super cheap, via the usual suspect, and it was actually also super nice. We had purposefully booked this one with the intent to wind down. Since leaving on our world trip, we have never been at one location / accommodation longer than two nights. Together with driving almost 10 000 km, it has worn us out a bit. So yeah, on Saturday, after shopping groceries, we just sat in the couch, watching Netflix, eating warmed-up pizza and drinking beers and rosé wine. Véro was acutely aware it was one of the last opportunities to do so and, obviously, started mesmerizing about the beauty of this devine grape extract. After which she fell asleep. Or wait, no, it was me who fell asleep…
Yip, Sunday was almost the same. We didn’t manage to get out of bed before noontime and the rest of the day was spent just being lazy. Really lazy.
On Monday however, we dragged ourselves out of bed, dropped of our laundry at a laundromat, a package with souvenirs at DHL to send to my sis (we owe you one) and went on a free walking tour through one of the oldest neighbourhoods in Cape Town: Bo Kaap. Originally settled by the free work force brought in by the Dutch, this settlement has seen the complete history of Cape Town ánd South Africa. The colourful painted houses backed by the majestic Table Mountain behind it make for some great photo opportunities. After the tour we took an Uber back to V&A Waterfront, where we had dropped our laundry earlier, to do some window shopping before we could pick up our freshly washed laundry again. However, the opening hours on Google ánd the laundromat’s website were not up to date anymore, so we stood for a closed door around quarter past five… And Tuesday it was closed due to national holidays… So, no laundry… Horror! Two days in a row the same underwear! Ah hell, we drowned our disappointment with a healthy filled glass of rosé at the waterfront’s food market before heading back to the apartment. Getting mentally prepared for our hike tomorrow up Table Mountain.
But yeah, just as with Mt. Fuji last year, once more the weather prevented us summiting. Last year it was the rain, now it was the wind (and the dense cloud present over the mountain). Frustrating… But hey, we just went across the valley to hike up to Lion’s Head, which was not shrouded. But a lot of other people had the same thought on this holiday, so needless to say we weren’t alone going up. Or down… After an invigorating morning hike we went back to the apartment to unwind and relax before going out to the waterfront for our last diner on the African continent.