Cape Town. Indulgence, Intrigue and Inspiration

Even if you have limited time, the Mother City offers cosmopolitan culture, historical interest, and a breathtaking landscape.

I am standing on a windswept beach, kilometres of pristine white sand spread out before me and the road along one of the most beautiful mountain drives I had ever experienced up above me. The waves are rolling in, forming aquamarine lines, and with the sun shining I’m revelling in the view and thinking what an amazing place this is, one of the most beautiful places on earth, and how lucky the people who live here are to be able to soak up this majesty every day. That was more than ten years ago – I was a university exchange student from the United States and was privileged to visit South Africa for the very first time. I spent six months in in the country and during that time only a week in Cape Town, but the impression it made on me was timeless.

It turns out I wasn’t the first to be mesmerized by Cape Town’s beauty. Beguiling seas, neatly laid vines and the unmistakable view of Table Mountain – Cape Town is positioned in what Sir Francis Drake declared in 1579 to be the “fairest cape in the whole circumference of the earth.” So renowned as one of the world’s most beautiful places, visitors from faraway lands have been arriving in Cape Town for centuries to experience the contrasts of a bustling, modern city that is framed by a natural amphitheatre, characterized by a distinctly African-European vibe, and within driving distance of world-class beaches and vineyards.

With all this splendour, it’s hard to believe that in the 16^th century this corner of the world was of little interest to anyone except for its functional purpose as a refuelling station for sea-weary ships travelling the trade routes between Europe, India and the Far East. It wasn’t until 1652 that the Dutch East India Company (VOC) established the first permanent European settlement in South Africa. Thanks to the VOC’s free burgher policy, whereby married men were released from their contracts and given farms of their own to cultivate, more and more people made the Cape their permanent home and it quickly outgrew its original purpose as a simple outpost. The move towards permanent settlement by these early settlers had an indelible effect on many aspects of the Cape culture, the extent to which was probably unimaginable at the time and with all the cues from the past, it’s hard for me to wander the streets today and not imagine what it must have been like back then.

Evidence of Cape Town’s early beginnings are scattered throughout the city centre. The most obvious beacon of the past is the Castle of Good Hope, a pentagonal fort with thick stone walls surrounded by a moat, smack in the middle of town, opposite the busy transit centre. Private functions are sometimes hosted at the long banquet table, the same one the highest ranking officials once dined at and whispers of their conversations colour the mood of the room. Pretty Victorian buildings line Long Street, which buzzes with energy day and night. The cobblestone of historic Greenmarket Square has seen its share of change, once a marketplace for slaves, fruit and vegetables, it’s now home to a thriving crafts market lined with trendy eateries. On nearby Adderley Street a statue of Jan van Riebeeck, the founder of Cape Town, stands firm watching over his legacy in the midst of the traffic. Around the corner part of the original Company’s Garden, planted in the 1650’s to supply fresh produce to passing ships, welcomes visitors with tree-lined paths, more than 8000 species of plants and South Africa’s oldest museum – home to a 117,000-year old fossilized human footprint and rare stone artworks of the San people. Visiting the iconic Mount Nelson, a luxury hotel founded in 1899, I felt what I imagined to be a sort of colonial déjà vu while enjoying a decadent Afternoon Tea, lounging in wicker chairs with friends under lazy ceiling fans and taking in the sounds of the Grand Piano serenading the room. Cape Town City Hall, the site for Nelson Mandela’s first public speech after his release from prison in 1990, was built in 1905, designed in the style of the Classical Revival, and built almost entirely from materials imported from Europe.

The overseas influence in Cape Town is made clear by its impressive buildings which range in style from traditional Cape Dutch and Victorian, to trendy Art-Deco and Post-Modern, interrupted in places by the local and now iconic shanty towns of multi-coloured corrugated iron. The diversity of the city’s architectural landscape is just one example of its cosmopolitan heritage. The ancestry of Cape Town’s people demonstrates its diversity even more dramatically, starting with the city’s establishment by the Dutch VOC whose employees hailed from Holland as well as Scandinavia, Russia, the UK, France, Switzerland, Germany, India, Java and China. The British also had a strong cultural influence when they took over the colony in 1795. The slave population, having wide-spread origins in Madagascar, Mauritius, Ceylon, India, Malaysia, Indonesia and southern Africa also contributed to the diversity with the result that today, Cape Town “locals” are not a homogenous group and bring an eclectic mixture of culture, customs, religions, language and food to the multicultural texture one can experience in the city.

Cape Town visitors can have a first-class experience on par with competing destinations all around the world. Spend an afternoon wandering around the Cape Town Harbour, now the Victoria & Alfred Waterfront, exploring some of its 450 shops and more than 80 restaurants, set against a dramatic view of Table Mountain. Since 1860 this has been a centre of colourful activity – a trading place, a fish market and an everyday bazaar. If I spend an afternoon wandering the waterfront I can imagine the sounds of the ships back then, the sight of activity set against the backdrop of Table Mountain and the sounds of people who must have spoke, sang and shouted in a multitude of languages. To me it feels as if the thought of these things might be carried on the breeze from some other era. Yet the breeze is not one from yesteryear. The legacy of the harbour’s history lives on today – with throngs of locals and visitors, hundreds of shops selling the best the world has to offer, local craftsmen selling the unique products of Africa, and restaurants serving the cuisine of the world.

For a beautiful view just outside the city bowl you can take in the sunset in trendy Camp’s Bay – the Grand Cafe has an upstairs bar overlooking the beach and offers seductive-shabby-chic decor and live jazz music to carry you away to some other place. Enjoy dinner at The Roundhouse, a historic manor established in 1786 set high up in the hills with a commanding view, sophisticated French fare and one of the best wine pairing menus in town. If you have a really special occasion to celebrate, take a short drive to the beautiful Constantia Valley to enjoy dinner at one of the world’s best restaurants, La Colombe at the Constantia Uitsig Wine Estate, ranked 12^th place in the San Pellegrino 50 Best Restaurants of the World Awards 2010.

If you need a pinch of reality after feeling too much like a celebrity, not to worry – one of the best aspects of Cape Town is the truly authentic and vibrant encounter visitors can have with the local “salt of the earth” way of life. Kalk Bay, just south of the city, is an artsy village full of antique, book and bric-a-brac shops as well as small cafes and restaurants. Visit the fully functioning harbour where you can see real-deal fishermen return from a day’s work dressed in colourful rubber overalls, cigarettes in hand, their boats laden with the catch of the day. The scene is a lively one as on-lookers crowd the water’s edge and fish to be sold are tossed from the boat, one by one, onto the pavement. Nearby Kalky’s is a local fish and chips institution serving up casual deep fried fare – oily, salty and definitely worth the indulgence. While you wait in the queue you might catch a glimpse of talented Zimbabwean musicians who energize the crowd with the rhythms of West Africa – a mix of jazzy, funky, Afro-beat – singing and dancing to the tunes of handmade xylophones, cow bells and drums. Toes tapping, you can’t help but smile at the music, the unique experience and the beautiful scene overlooking False Bay, buttressed by sharply rising sandstone mountains.

The Table Mountain Range defines the Capetonian landscape, starting with the iconic Table Mountain plateau and the natural amphitheatre it forms around the city bowl. Take the Cable Car to the top for an unforgettable view of the city below. Extending 70-kilometers south of the city, the range is punctuated by the green of the Kirstenbosch National Botanical Gardens, a national treasure and UNESCO World Heritage Site, and blanketed by the neat vineyards of Constantia, where world-class wine has been made for the likes of Napoleon for more than 300 years. The Twelve Apostles section frames Camp’s Bay on the Atlantic side and a hike up to the top of Lion’s Head provides a stunning vantage point with 360-degree views of the city and coastline. No trip to Cape Town would be complete without a drive over Chapman’s Peak, a spectacular 9-kilometer winding road set on the edge of dramatic cliffs between Hout Bay and Noordhoek. Dressed by the ribbons of pink and orange clouds at sunrise and glowing in hues of warm red tones at sunset, the drive offers some of the most impressive views anywhere in the world. After experiencing it the first time it made me dream of what it would be like to live here, if only it was possible.

After traversing Chapman’s you can follow the range to the southern-most point in the Cape Point National Park and brave the whipping wind for a view of the original lighthouse. This is the very last point of the Cape of Good Hope, extending out into the pounding waves – the same place where so many sailors of years past made that last, anxious turn north on treacherous journeys towards safety and home. Here the mountain range looks battered but resolute, as if it’s impermeable to the weather’s worst tantrums. As I stand at the edge of the peninsula, now a Cape Town “local” myself, I can imagine that the last gnarled knuckles of the mountain range stand tribute the tenacity of the people who settled here so many years ago, who imparted a legacy that I’m now a part of and that is still unfolding today. It’s this legacy that inspires the feeling one has here – that during the time you spend here it can take you someplace “then,” someplace “there,” and right here – in Cape Town – now.

For more information:
· Castle of Good Hope, www.castleofgoodhope.co.za
· The Company’s Garden, www.capetown.gov.za
· South African Museum, www.iziko.org.za/sam
· Victoria & Alfred Waterfront, www.waterfront.co.za
· Table Mountain Aerial Cable Car, http://tablemountain.net
· Kirstenbosch National Botanical Gardens, www.sanbi.org/frames/kirstfram.htm
· Chapman’s Peak, www.chapmanspeakdrive.co.za
· Cape Point National Park, www.capepoint.co.za
· Mount Nelson Hotel, www.mountnelson.co.za
· Grand Cafe, www.thegrand.co.za
· The Roundhouse, www.theroundhouserestaurant.com
· La Colombe, www.constantia-uitsig.com

The Atlantic Delivers a Summer's Feast

It’s nearly the end of summer – sorry to say it, but it’s true. The days are getting just a little bit shorter – morning risings are now in the dark, with me stumbling towards the kitchen in search of the coffee pot. The weather’s turned to Cape Town’s in-between period before the Autumn, when the Southeaster blows and the temperatures are still warm. When summer ends, the driving rain arrives and there’ll be no more weekend hikes, kayaking trips, or diving for crayfish – the fishing season ends in April. When the chill creeps in, I’ll be swopping my glass of Sauvignon Blanc for a rich Merlot, and my flip-flops for some nice warm booties.

Wanting to celebrate the end of summer, this weekend I planned a fitting feast to enjoy at sunset - hand-caught Crayfish (local rock lobster), Coconut Rice garnished with coriander and avocado, and crisp Sauvignon Blanc. Luckily the conditions were perfect for a diving adventure in the Cape Point Nature Reserve – small swell and light winds, early in the morning. My boyfriend and I loaded up our two-man kayak, paddles, wetsuits, flippers, snorkels and goggles and made our way south past the Slankop Lighthouse, along the beach and Misty Cliffs, until finally reaching the reserve. A troop of baboons stood at the entrance, as if placed to greet us, or perhaps to collect a breakfast toll. Not their lucky day, we moved on towards our launching spot, suited up and slipped into the glossy water.

Paddling quietly, the sun still rising, birds glided low and a seal surfaced, as if to inspect us. We carried on, checking out the sea caves that open up like secret passageways into the sheer rock-face that lines the shore. We found a diving spot in a kelp-heavy zone – it was so thick the plants held us snugly in our place and we didn’t need an anchor to keep from drifting. As the swell rose and fell the these strange plant-beings were revealed in short bursts and they seemed to peer up at us in a strange chorus as the water trickling over them fell back into the sea.

It was time – we slipped into the water. Now with our goggles and snorkels in place my we eyed one another and made odd sounds to try to communicate the plan – go this way, stay steady, don’t get too close, have the bag at the ready. The water was clear and icy cold on my face, threatening to steam up my goggles. My boyfriend dove into the deep as I swam along the surface, looking through the eerie kelp forest towards the rocky bottom where my dinner was hiding, somewhere, under a dark ledge. He rose back the surface, took a breath, and dove again – over and over – time passed. Then all at once there was a rush of activity – two crayfish were in-hand! I rushed with the goodie bag to collect the creatures and quickly put them in a secure place back on the kayak.

The paddle back to shore was triumphant – so often crayfish diving becomes just a dive, with only the pure pleasure of the sea for your reward – so today we were extra-lucky. We returned home and prepared an afternoon braai on the balcony overlooking the sea. With a million-dollar view, crayfish tails on the fire, savory coconut rice topped with avocado, and a glass of crisp Sauvignon Blanc we felt like royalty – living the good life – enjoying a perfect summer’s celebration.

The Menu: Wine: Kleine Zalze 2009 Cellar Selection Sauvignon Blanc Crayfish: Boil a big pot of very salty water. Take a deep breath and gooi the crayfish in – put the lid on and look away. Let it boil for 3-4 minutes – the shell turns bright red. Remove, allow to cool until you can handle it, break the head away from the tail. Cut the tail down the center – carefully remove the sand vein. When everything else is ready to eat, put the tails (now cut into halves) on the hot braai and baste with garlic butter. This doesn’t need much time, just a very few minutes, to get the smoky flavor. Coconut rice: Fry green thai curry paste in oil and butter for a few minutes, then add onions and when they are soft, garlic and mushrooms. Add the rice, coconut milk, and a little of the water you used to cook the crayfish. Don’t stir or it will become gummy – cover it and leave it till done. Garnish with coriander and sliced avocado.

Kayaking Cape Point

The alarm clock went off before sunrise, startling me from a half-sleep. All night I’d been falling into excited dreams about my day to come – a kayaking journey along the southern Cape Peninsula, all the way to the Point. Steeped in the history of sea exploration, trade and the havoc of its infamous storms, Cape Point’s powerful presence had pulled me away from any kind of restful sleep.

I contemplated turning over for just a few more minutes of sleep, but then remembered the weather forecast – a perfect window early in the morning. The swell would be small and the wind very light, but conditions would deteriorate throughout the day. Since the point is known for fickle weather conditions I decided the snooze wasn’t worth it after all, and stumbled out to the kitchen to get the coffee going.

The car was loaded just as the first morning light appeared, the sky turning purple. Driving towards the launching point at Buffelsbai via Simonstown the road followed the course of the mountains on the right and the sea on to the left, a winding cliff-side road overlooking False Bay. The sun began to rise, an orange globe reflecting across the quiet, kelp-strewn water and warming the rounded boulders lining the beach. The calmness of the scene belied the feeling of anticipation getting heavier inside me.

Finally arriving at Buffelsbai, I saw a bunch of fishing groups in motorized boats going out in the same direction as we were planning. Lots of excited banter circulated as one group of men after another slipped into the water – cheers and jeers, sizing up our craft – a basic 2-person sit-on-top kayak, and tall tales of some faraway reef that held the promise of catching the “big one.” I assured them we would not be joining them on the reef this time.

Our turn to launch, we set off and got into the rhythm of our paddling, making our way under our own steam. Birds in formation glided nearby, low, just skimming the water’s surface. I looked down as we moved over the water – it was clear and the kelp seemed to be reaching eerily towards me with greenish-brown arms from another world. As we got into deeper water my heartbeat picked up its pace and we rehearsed our no-frills safety plan, just in case we were paid a visit by a sea monster.

The plan had three parts. First, if the sea monster knocks the boat and you fall off, get back in. Second, if you are nibbled by the sea monster and lose a limb, get to shore. Third, remember the National Sea Rescue phone number and dial it when necessary. My dreamy state of mind instilled by the peaceful paddling and amazing scenery was now feeling clouded by worry. I wished we hadn’t brought up the subject.

We continued on passed Rooikrans (“red cliffs”), a famous spot where anglers risk their own sort of danger by hiking down a near vertical drop for the chance to catch a Yellowtail or other predator fish from the rocky cliff-face that dips into deep ocean. The rock is thick and has stood the test of time and the worst of storms. Passing fishermen along the shore we seemed to cause a bit of consternation and excitement, and we waved to one another and passed happy conversation.

Around the corner we found a sea cave cut by the wind so deep we dared not explore too far. The sound of the waves echoed inside and surged back out again like the place was alive and breathing.

Continuing on I could see the Point ahead and the international weather station above at the top of the mountain. Both my heart rate and the height of the swell increased, rising and dropping like a see-saw. I felt like I was entering a zone where I probably shouldn’t be. The colour of the sea was changing to a dark, deep purple and as we moved closer to our destination we passed over a lake of sea foam churned up by the crashing waves on the rocks. I could see the reef the fishermen had mentioned off in the distance and there were lots of boats sharing the action – but their presence was no comfort to me now.

The swell was so high now I felt like I was on some kind of a rodeo ride, bucking me hard and threatening to throw me but there was no way I was getting off at this stop! I took care to keep the balance, gripped my paddle, breathed deep and in this chaos tried to relax and enjoy the view of Cape Point’s rocky finger, battered yet still reaching out to the southern seas, framed by the Benguela current on the western side and the Agulhas on the eastern side. I was astonished to realize I was sitting in the place of their convergence and the height of their colliding energy. The moment felt heavy and there was an ancient presence all around me. I saw the faces of the great spirits looking down from the ridges above. Now I knew with absolute surety that I was not supposed to be here, but here I was anyway, stealing a timeless moment and seeming to get away with it!

We stayed just long enough to document the moment with a photograph, an amazing view of the lighthouse from our fragile spot floating on top of the depths of the sea. Then we began the paddle back towards False Bay where the friendlier Agulhas flows. We left as quickly as we could, taking care not to be caught and toppled by a rouge wave. We reached the zone of sea foam where the swell height seemed more manageable and I began to breathe a little easier. As we moved along the swell height continued to fall, along with my heart rate, and the grip on my paddle eased back to normal. Now in calm water the rhythm of the paddle strokes formed a quiet aftermath and I could not stop smiling at the amazing gift I had just experienced.