Rod's Trail

Things are slowly getting back to normal. The walks are almost becoming routine! This delightful trail winds its way following the contours of the Voorberg above Betty’s Bay, with lovely views of the coastal strip and the alarmingly intrusive strip development of the coastal settlement itself. Unfortunately, there is very little architectural merit in any of the residential development. Because the whole village is no more than 60 years old, there is no architectural heritage, no unifying idiom, very little evidence of any planning and a distinct absence of taste.  The village stretches along 10km of coastline, scrunched between the lovely coastline and the glorious mountain range. A more ordinary human hamlet in a more sublime natural environment would be hard to imagine.

But the walk itself is lovely. It winds up the mountain from the beautiful Harold Porter Gardens and then snakes along the coastal strip, descending every now and then into ravines where in the rainy season, great torrents of water descend to the sea from the mountains above. The flora is therefore constantly changing from riverine forest to fijnbos, the uniquely beautiful flora of the Western Cape. Although much of the bush has been burned by repeated fires, there is still a wonderful array of flora to be seen. This is really not the best time of the year to see the flowers, but the amazing thing about fijnbos is that there really isn’t a season when one won’t be taken aback at the huge variety and incredible delicacy of the plants on natural display.

My major problem was that it had rained the previous night, and the bush was still rather wet, so that in minutes, my footwear was completely sodden and I squelched along through the bush. There seemed little I could do about this, so I decided just to take my pictures and ignore the problem, but I will have to take issues such as this a lot more seriously when I set out on the LEJOG. Another learning point.

Towards the far end of the walk, the path curves down to the main road through Betty’s Bay (where I helped myself to an excellent Magnum ice-cream from the local garage) and then on to “Main Beach”, for the return walk or the third leg of the oblong. The final leg takes one along the David’s Kraal River through unique riverine forest back to the Harold Porter Gardens and then a short stretch home along the main road (R44). Altogether a lovely, varied walk of about 9km which fully deserves the plaudits it receives in the local guide books.

 Fire-scarred slopes of the Voorberg

 Main Beach from Rod's Trail

 An orange-breasted sunbird

 An orange Watsonia

The main swimming beach, with not a soul in sight

This fascinating piece of Afrikana recalls the fact the HF Verwoerd, the conceptualiser of the abhorrent system of separate-development or apartheid in South Africa, was a regular visitor to Betty's Bay. My friend Paul, who is an expert in Afrikana once surmised that this plaque would never survive the transition to the "New South Africa", either because it would be removed by those who wanted to get rid of any trace of the hated regime, or by treasure hunters who would steal it for its future value as an authentic bit of Afrikana. It is fascinating that it has survived the transformation so far; another very minor indication of how little has so far changed through South Africa's miraculous, peaceful transition.

 The trird leg of the walk; the return along Main Beach

A family of Egyptian Gueese took to the sea to avoid a confrontation. The little flotilla was perfectly happy bobbing up and down in the waves

 And so towards the final leg; a boardwalk leads to the David's Kraal river, away from the sea.

 And the path winds back to Harold Porter through riverine forest.

Disaster Averted!

You may have noticed a transitory gap between this and my last post, not that they have anyway been that regular. This time though, the gap signified a full-blown crisis which might well have blown the project well off-course.

Shortly after my extended excursion on Sandown Beach I went down with an agonising pain in my abdomen, extending from my kidneys down to my nether regions. Thank goodness, Veronica had arrived by now and was in full executive and administrative control. After a rather painful day, she found a delightful GP in Betty’s Bay, a retired fellow experienced in making diagnoses in remote environments. He diagnosed a kidney stone accompanied by a full-blown urinary tract infection. A subsequent visit to another GP in Cape Town confirmed part of the diagnosis, but he wondered whether the urinary tract infection might have been a side-effect of the extreme high-intensity focussed ultrasound treatment that I had had previously.

Whatever the cause, the effect was that I was consigned to bed and then to very restricted exercise. Given the extremely tight schedule of my fitness programme and the fact that there is little flexibility in my LEJOG schedule, it seemed for a time that I would simply not be able to complete my preparation programme in time to start the walk. Veronica was insistent that the result would have to be postponement of the entire programme for one year.

Such a depressing thought was most dispiriting. I have already invested so much in doing the trip this year that postponement would be extremely annoying, not least because it is impossible to predict what might go wrong in the next year which might make the trip even more difficult.

The good news is that I have recovered much faster than either Veronica or the GPs predicted. Yesterday, I did an 11km walk and today I did two walks of about 6km each without any ill effects, and I felt really good throughout. I may not be much fitter than I was when I came here on holiday, but at least I have not gone backwards. So now the crucial task is to make sure that I make real progress before returning to England.

I suppose the upshot of all of this is to recognise that my health isn’t what it was. I will have to accept that this may mean that during the course of a really testing physical endeavour, I may well have many more physical challenges to overcome. I need to build this possibility into my mental preparation and work on ways to deal with the challenges. The key is to realise that in most circumstances there is a way through, and it comes down to using maturity and good sense to find a solution.

One good sign, though, is how much I am enjoying the walking. Not, of course that it is difficult to enjoy walking in this exceptional place.

Here are just a couple of snaps to prove that I am up and at it again, taken on the first of yesterday's walks on the magnificent and aptly named Silversands Beach.

A rather poor shot of a pair of African Oyster Catchers, the second-most rare birds on the African coast, but my constant companions on all these walks.

And now a flight of Sacred Ibises (or Ibi?), just to lift the tone a tad....

Here is a shot of yours truly, enjoying himself immensely....



This is a shot of our shared house, taken from across Jock's Bay in the heart of Betty's Bay. Shabby, what?

And finally, ABS (another bloody sunset) from the garden of our house, called Edenly, obviously, just to rub it all in....

Sandown Beach

The temperature today governed my decisions. As I woke, it hit about 35 deg C as the Berg wind came straight down from the mountains. Today was to be a day for the sea, not the hinterland. I headed for Sandown Beach near Kleinmond. This is the longest beach in the area and I had never attempted to walk its length.

This will be a short post. No matter how much one likes a beach, the fact is it doesn’t change much as you walk. Still it is pleasant enough for the walker, though, in gearing up for my LEJOG (Land’s End to John O’Groats walk), I am very conscious of the fact that I have very quickly to become a lot fitter and much stronger. Walking along a beach is not the same as walking up hill and down dale, and I wasn’t carrying a heavy pack, so this is hardly a fair test, but on the other hand, walking on the soft sand of a rising tide is a lot like walking uphill. It all helps. (I did try to coincide with the tides, but I over-slept! Exhausted after yesterday’s efforts and by the time I got there, the tide was already coming in!)

The weather all day was very strange. I set out in the teeth of a howling Berg wind, blowing into my face from due East at an uncomfortable 35deg C. The sea at least was very cold so half of me was hot and the other half cold. Then suddenly in the time it took to walk 100 metres, the wind changed to South East, coming in off the sea, and the temperature dropped by 15deg C. Incredible!! At last I was comfortable and able to concentrate on my surroundings.

Yet again, there was no-one there! I walked a total of 14 km today, and until I had walked 12.8 km I did not see another living soul. After yesterday I was beginning to think that the whole area had suffered a neutron bomb strike and there were no people left! Just pristine landscape and a few radiation-proof insects and birds to inherit the world. How is it possible to walk 20km in any beautiful place and not see anyone? I have a problem with everyone else’s priorities!

Of course it may also be that I am currently on my own. Veronica arrives on Monday and suddenly this isolation will end with a vengeance, but I can’t say that I am not enjoying it, or that I don’t look forward to her arrival. Mixed emotions!

But back to the beach!

I wasn’t entirely alone, as yesterday. The birds are here... The African Black Oystercatcher is a very rare bird. My bird book tells me there are only 5000 left. Yet every time I come here, I bump into many of them. Today, I had fourteen sightings! Of course, it could be the same two birds, who, staggered by the lack of people, were flying up the beach to meet me each time! Lonely birds! Actually, not. The Oystercatchers are quite territorial, hence their apparent scarcity, so I suspect I did see a number of mating pairs. They are also not terribly skilled at subterfuge. There I am walking along, lost in thought and deep in pain, and all of a sudden they are screeching out their very identifiable alarm warning, bringing my camera to the ready! If they had just kept quiet, I wouldn’t have seen them at all!  Anyway, I’ll spare you countless shots of thoroughly discombobulated birds and just include this one rather insipid view, in deference to their rarity and my disturbance of them.

And so to the end of the beach, or at least as far as I wanted to, or physically could, go! I had expected that the waters from the the Bot River Estuary would flow out to the sea at this point, but of course it is summer, so there is no flow, and I could have walked all the way to Hawston, but I was beginning to suffer and it was 7km of soft sand back, so I decided to call it a day…

I took these idle shots to prove that I was at the seaside.

And then finally, when I was convinced that there was no-one left alive, I found this fisherman, 12.8 km from the start of my walk! We waved and smiled at each other. I think he was as delighted to see another living being as I was! At least if the rest of the human race really had been wiped out, I would have been able to rely on him for fish….



So that was it, but I can’t resist including a couple of shots of the exquisite Betty’s Bay sunset. You may get bored. My father-in-law used to call them NABS. (Not another bloody sunset!). Tough….

Oh yes! I had a look today to see how many people had subscribed to this blog by clicking on the button in the top right corner of the blog! Just one!! Me….!!!!!

 I am distraught!

The Kogelberg

This is significant. The Kogelberg Biosphere Reserve was the FIRST Biosphere Reserve to be declared in southern Africa and forms part of UNESCO's world-wide network of Biosphere Reserves.Biosphere Reserves are areas of terrestrial and coastal eco-systems which are internationally recognised within the framework of the United Nations Education, Scientific, and Cultural Organisation's (UNESCO's) Man and Biosphere Programme.

Wow!

And so today's walk will be a a trip along the Palmiet River which is itself something of special interest (the river rather than my walk!). I'm no expert, but a few years ago there was a scheme to dam the Palmiet River to add to Cape Town's critically deficient water supply, but it was turned down on environmental grounds. I may be wrong but I think I remember reading that the Palmiet River is the only remaining river in Southern Africa that is undammed from source to sea, and since in flows through an area of huge ecological importance and exquisite beauty, it is easy to see why the conservationists won their case. This post will support their view!

Actually, I have been planning this walk for years. One way or another it just hasn't happened, and in a strange way, I'm almost sad it is over.

Today I walked through a site of international interest,and apart from a couple of academics with a laptop right at the start, I walked 10 kilometres without seeing another human being, or even a sign that human beings existed. All about100 km from one of Africa's great cities, Cape Town. Not a single person. No-one...

For a European, this is simply unimaginable. It is scarcely likely that most Europeans will ever see an environment that is unaffected by human existence or habitation. To be in an place that, apart from the path ahead, is completely natural, is simply extraordinary. For three hours today, I might have been on another planet, but not one that could have been more spectacular or beautiful to my eyes. I have the impression that what I saw today is essentially unchanged for thousands of years. Apart from the path, obviously man-made, this is a highway to history. Can the people who maintain this path even begin to know the incredible stewardship of their enterprise? Places like this must be our dowry to the future. I'm an engineer, but if anyone built a dam here, I can't help believing that he would be guilty of a crime against humanity.

You don't believe me? Here is my evidence!

And of course, I was following the course of the Palmiet River. For those people who don't come from arid lands, they may not understand the implications of a free-flowing river in this kind of country. There isn't a single dam or weir between the source of this river and the sea. That may be unique in Africa...

And the flora here is also completely unique. There are more species of flora in this small space than in the whole of Europe. this is the wrong time of the year to truly appreciate it, late summer, but still there are plants that take one's breath away. It remains a fact of nature that only the insects and birds will ever see these individual specimens:

Not a single person. Absolutely no evidence of human existence, as far as the eye can see. Incredible!

And then, my own private beach! I took off all my clothes and swam in these cool waters. I didn't have a towel with me so I had to dry myself in the South Easterly breeze that was blowing up the valley. There was a sense of amazing freedom in that act of exposure. No-one on earth there to observe the inadequacies of my aging body. But, in that warm and fragrant air, a sense of unity with my environment. A moment of bliss...

 Of course, despite the euphoria, one is always conscious of the cruel determinism of nature. Here in the Cape, fire is necessary to destroy the living for its own regeneration. The plant below was burnt in a fire just one year ago and, if the fire hadn't happened, it would have died. Do we understand this lesson of nature and does it apply to us?

And so to the apex of my walk. A standard sign! Civilisation in eutopia! How incongruous...

Tired now, both on the walk and in this blog, but this is the magnificent walk home:

Strangely, along the way, not a single human being, no baboons, no leopards, no snakes. Just a few interesting beetles and this rather inquisitive bird. He was completely untroubled by my presence. Clearly he and his kind have seen few human beings and therefore don't fear them. I have since looked him up in my bird book and he turns out to be a Cape Rock Thrush. He seemed to enjoy my company, and I certainly enjoyed his...

And finally, back to civilisation. That's my car next to the admin building, on extreme telephoto. I confess to feeling some relief. Much of the path up the valley was over rocky terrain and although this was not a long walk in terms of what awaits me, it was still a bit testing.

I am going to have to get a lot fitter and stronger!

Just to conclude, I couldn't resist adding a couple of shots of the view from Edenly, our wonderful shared house on the coast. This is sunset. It wasn't a particularly magnificent example, but in the nature of our experience, there is little to beat it! 

If you feel like it, click on the link on the right of this post to see a map of the trail in Everytrail.

Betty's Bay

Things don't come much better than this! I've only been out here a little over 24 hours and already a sense of place and peace has descended. But, I won't bore you with all that emotional stuff! Veronica only arrives on Monday, so this is like an old-fashioned retreat. Just a few days of solitude, for me to consider the essence of things, before re-entering the frantic whorl of modern existence.

I am in timeless Betty's Bay; staring out at an ocean just below the house which stretches all the way to Antarctica. The sea today is a curious pewter colour, so typical of the black South Easters, well known in these parts. Later today I will be going into Cape Town to attend a public meeting on another symbolically vital issue. A major oil company (one I used to work for) is planning to drill for "tight gas", methane constrained in the ancient rocks of the Karroo. They are having the meeting to "consult" with affected persons. They are of course sincere, but it won't seem like that to all the farmers from the Karroo who revere their land in a way which few city people can appreciate and who have a sense that extraction of resource is a crime against the Earth, especially as there is no prospect of compensation. The Government owns the mineral rights and, especially in South Africa, could not be more distant from the interests of these traditional farming communities. Will the oil company be its normal arrogant self, or will it really be listening? I will be so interested to find out.

First though, a quick walk along the waterfront in Kleinmond. I didn't know this path existed. I had previously walked along the residential street on the waterfront, which was uninspiring. This path was a revelation! It has been lovingly constructed by people who love nature and who have the available resource. I snapped a few pictures along the way that convey something of the contradictions that are always so apparent in this peculiar part of Africa.

But before we get serious, for those of you with a few miles on the clock, I snapped this as I set out! Is this not Andy Capp? He seems astounded that anyone should be walking for pleasure and as I climbed the first hill, I thought he had a point....  The rock formations are amazing. Years of erosion by sea, wind and sand on exceptionally hard sandstone. Shapes everywhere.

But this remains a very strange society. The people who built this beautiful path understand nature at a fundamental level. Perhaps they don't always understand their place in it? This magnificent path has been constructed by people who love the Fijnbos (Western Cape flora) and love the coast. They are also people who love the sea, but they see no contradiction in using low-cost labour to improve it for the enjoyment of  the odd visitor such as myself.

To my amazement, I saw no other person during the entire duration of the walk except for these two fellows, both of whom were immensely friendly. The first was using a strimmer to remove leaves from the edges of this wild path through the coastal vegetation and the second was using a rather temperamental blower to scatter the debris of the strimming back into the Fijnbos. Incredible! No doubt, on high days and holidays, there would be more people around, but the economics of the operation do not bear scrutiny, no matter how cheap the labour. Though, of course, without this life-line, these two individuals would have absolutely nothing, and would probably have to resort to crime.... Maybe there is a logic, after all. Who am I to judge?

The path is just amazing!  There are bridges over every little stream and the most exquisite flora along the way.

Every now and then, though, one can’t avoid coming up for air! This is the view away from the coast at the high points. Like many developing countries, there is a stark contrast between the natural environment and the architectural atrocities of man. These utilitarian human warehouses owe nothing to any architectural tradition. They have in common nothing other than a desire to avail their residents with a view of nature at its pristine best. It is a matter of intense speculation for me to consider a society which evidently so respects the natural environment, but seems completely incapable of transferring that aesthetic to their own built environment. Do they just not see it? Or is it just a matter of simple economics? “ I would prefer to live in a comfortable abomination so that I can at least look out on sheer beauty”.  And, lacking the conservative strictures of an established community, there is nothing in the body politic which can interfere with these frontier rights. It is the same logic that ultimately projects the strip logic of American development. The difference is that this happens in Paradise, and it is an affront to human nature…

OK. So having got that off my chest, I feel the need to lighten up!

Off to Cape Town for the oil company public meeting. Such a chore along this coast! The temperatures were interesting. In cloudy Betty’s Bay, the temperature was a pleasant 21deg C. By the time I had crossed the pass to False Bay, it had risen to 34deg C, all in the space of 10 miles. The reason is that the howling South Easter had forced the air over the steep mountains, which then warmed as it descended back to sea level. Some of these shots show the condensed vapour at the tops of the mountains as the cold air descends to its dewpoint.  A Science lesson in spectacular Technicolor.  I was exhilarated beyond excitement, so much so that I had to stop along the way to take these pictures and I was almost late for the meeting!

The meeting turned out much as I expected. The representatives were earnest, professional and blinkered. They had little understanding of their audience, despite all the right words. It is a complicated country. No-one is completely honest.  Motives are carefully concealed. I didn't hear the word NIMBY all evening, despite the fact that that is what everyone was thinking. It is also clear that the professionals are just incapable of understanding the connection of the farmers to an array of arid rocks and the life forms it supports.

Once, when I was young, I had a girl-friend from those parts. She had an uncle who owned the most profound collection of fossils from the Karroo. It was his life's work and a collection of immense scientific and aesthetic value. He had made himself an expert in the science and welcomed many international authorities to the museum he maintained on his farm. When he spoke of these things, he spoke with an authority that connected him viscerally to the land. He saw himself as the custodian of an ancient and vitally important resource for mankind. His view of modern business could not have been more dismissive.

Yet these professionals wouldn't even have recognised him. To them, he would have been a conservative amateur, a representative of a discredited, racist aristocracy with no more title to the resources on his land than any other person. They would have totally misunderstood his commitment to the people on his farm and his traditional sense of noblesse oblige towards their welfare.

This is a clash of cultures and the tragedy is that both sides are pretending that they have every intention of understanding the other side's argument. But they have no such intention. They are riveted to their own point of view.

And so the authorities will decide. The farmers feel very strongly disenfranchised in this discussion. The bureaucrats in Pretoria are as far removed from these issues as it is possible to be. They have their own pressures and objectives, not the least of which are the macro-economic issues that press on a country short of energy resources. They are unlikely to understand the timeless concerns of the Karroo farmers.

The tragedy is that after all the struggles, there is unlikely to be any gas. The oil company itself is desperate. It is looking in ever more remote areas for ever-decreasing and ever more risky sources of energy, because the easy energy is controlled by governments who are increasingly antagonistic to international oil companies. They are spurred by their own investors and they have almost no choice.

Even if they understood the farmers, which they don't, their behaviour wouldn't change....