No Fixed Abode: Indian Takeaway

Wed 8 June 2016 - Cape of Good Hope

Out by 0900, a record for Cape Town, as we had planned a long day exploring the eponymous cape. The initial part of the journey retraced yesterday’s travels around the surrounding bays but once through Houts Bay we joined the toll road to Chapmans Peak. The road had been cut into the side of the sheer cliffs - quite literally at one point as we drove beneath a road width sized rock overhang for several hundred metres, freaky - and has many laybys along its length all offering superb views. Well worth the £2!

At Fish Hoek we joined the coast road that leads all the way to the Cape itself. Just along the coast is the small town of Simons Town, which is famous for its Penguin colony at Boulders Bay. Ten years ago when Glenn had been there with Toby and Scott they were able to walk down to the beach and wander freely amongst the penguins but, as with most things touristy, this is now forbidden and only a wooden viewing platform is accessible. With this in mind and having already seen penguins in New Zealand we continued on our way. As we looked out of the car window we saw what we initially thought was a small rock island with waves crashing around it but closer inspection showed it to be a submarine motoring on the surface, something neither of us had seen before. Maybe this is one of the anti shark measures the signs on the beach mention.

The views remained beautiful as we reached the official park entrance where we had to stump up another entrance fee, which, rather bizarrely, was considerably more than the entrance to the Drakensbergs - go figure. Once inside the road turned inland and we travelled into fynbos country. Fynbos is a generic term for the plants with small leaves and flowers that have colonised this stretch of the coastline and must look stunning in the summer. For now all that held our attention was a small herd of Blesbok, which are, apparently, the rarest antelope in South Africa, although we’ve seen them in Golden Gate, Camdeboo and now here.

Eventually we came to a fork in the road with one side going to Cape Point and the other to The Cape of Good Hope. A look ahead showed us that Cape Point was mobbed so we opted for its more famous cousin and as we dropped down to the shoreline we passed several large coaches coming the opposite way, which we took as a good sign that it would be quieter down here. With our tummies rumbling we stopped at the rocky end of a beach and took lunch watching the breakers crash ashore with the wind tearing sheets of spindrift from their crests. The weather was lovely: bright sunshine, cloudless sky even the wind was warm - up to that point when a strange meteorological event took place. There we were sitting in our t-shirts with a warm easterly breeze at our backs and then, in the blink of an eye, the wind completely reversed and started blowing cold air off the sea. Within a couple of minutes we had packed away and sought sanctuary behind the glass of the car’s windows.

Just as we were about to leave we noticed a lady bending down to take photos of something on the floor so we pulled over to see that she had found one of the tortoises that the cape is famous for. Apparently in the summer they can be more troublesome to avoid than the potholes.

Curiosity sated we drove to the end of the road where the large wooden sign proclaiming the most south westerly point of Africa is erected - you know the one everyone has to have their photo taken with - when a large bus arrived and disgorged 50 indians all clambering noisily to do just that. Their presence and the now chilly breeze convinced us that this was one ‘must have’ photo that we could do without so we turned around and headed back inland.

On the way we’d spotted a sign identifying a circular loop so we turned off for a bit of an exploration, as we are wont to do, and immediately came across a vast barren stretch of land. We’re not sure if there had been a fire a while ago or if the soil is poor but the fynbos was virtually non existent here and only the wind sculpted rocks broke the skyline.

Back on the main road we stopped off at the visitor centre to see what we could learn. Regretfully the coach load of Indians had also just arrived and they were milling around amongst the whale bones in the central courtyard making an incredible amount of noise, so much in fact that a small group of orientals was tucked into a corner looking quite intimidated. Hastily we sought the sanctuary of the building but not before noticing a few of the Indian men struggling with some heavy looking bags towards a table in a corner. We closed the door to the exhibits that had been propped open, to reduce the racket to something bearable, then spent a few minutes learning about the Cape’s flora, fauna and geology. Slowly the din outside began to subside and as we left the room we could see that everyone was stuffing themselves with Indian food. Several hotel and AirBnB hosts have told us that Indians always want to eat their own food and it seems that is also the case on a coach tour for on the corner table was an ad hoc takeaway of curries, spicy sauces, breads and rice in insulated metal containers - evidently the contents of the heavy bags. Although it smelled good and we were tempted to ask if they would share some with us we left them and the cowering orientals to their Asian buffets and headed for home.

There are two roads to the Cape and we headed back along the second of these towards the village of Scarborough - so many places named after British towns. As we drove through this rather pretty village with its ‘Grand Designs’ houses competing with each other for the highest view point, we noticed a sign for the Whole Earth Cafe. Rather a bold claim but it worked on us and we were soon inside ordering tea and trying to decide which of the yummy looking cakes to try - a very tough decision. Settled at a sheltered table in the sun the super efficient waitress brought us two pots of tea and two very large portions of cake. Ah well, bang went the diet for another day.

With time ticking by we set off for Cape Town and another appointment with Europcar to change the car for a second time - this time a slipping clutch. Glenn had called the city centre branch this morning to tell them we would be coming and had estimated our arrival at 1700, which is of course rush hour. After spending an age in heavy traffic slowly crawling into the city we eventually arrived at 1745 and were greeted by an agent remarking that we were late and they closed soon. Glenn reminded him that we’d paid a lot of money for this car and it was the second time in just over a month that we’d had to bring one back but that did not seem to improve his demeanor. Initially the agent arrived from the garage with a with a tiny Renault Clio, which after one look at the boot, Glenn declined and after much shoulder shrugging and comments of ‘no cars in the Western Cape’ the agent eventually managed to find a Toyota Corolla that we inspected almost in the dark. Now tired and hungry (and angry) we returned to our cosy flat for the last time making a mental note to drop an email to head office regarding the customer care training requirements of the Cape Town team.

The rush hour traffic had disappeared and we drove out of the city back to our home in Camps Bay with ease. Pulling up on the drive we met Hannelie and one of her daughters who were locked out of their home and having to stand in the road waiting for David. We let them in through the barred side gate and invited them into their apartment to wait but they declined. However this did give us an opportunity to chat to Hannelie who is South African but married to a Scot. Curious how that happened she explained she had worked in London met David, moved to Edinburgh had the girls there and now are back is South Africa where she is working for Deloitte but they still have their homes in Edinburgh and London as back up.
Who’d move back to the Edinburgh weather after living in Cape Town!