Western Cape: Day One

Wow, the three roadtrip days were such a whirlwind it is tough to know where to begin.

I suppose then it makes most sense to begin at the beginning.

DAY ONE:

At 8:30am our doorbell rang and the cheerful face of our guide (and casual taxidermist), Paul, greeted us with a peppy "All ready to go? Yes? Cool bananas!". Pronounced "baa-naa-naaaaas", it sounded even more hilarious. Feel free to add it to your everyday lexicon. 

We piled into the minibus and headed off down the hill to begin our three-day roadtrip. "We" being my three roommates and I: Janis, Jana, and Kaiya. The first two not only essentially share the same name, but also citizenship: Germany. Kaiya is from Norway and we've bonded over our common love for sweets... which we both continually consume... rocky road mochacchinos at 8am, anyone??

The morning ride to Hout Bay was visually stunning. The road hugged Table Mountain and took us to the highest of heights, giving us an amazing birds-eye view of the ocean and the cape. Small shrubbery with shocks of red, pink, and yellow flowers ran rampant on the mountain side, along with bulbous trees and neon-green moss. Below us was the Atlantic, stretched out as far as the eye can see. Think the Cabot Trail in Cape Breton...but on crack.

We pulled into harbor of Hout Bay and were greeted by row upon row of colorful sailboats and yachts. The water was a beautiful opaque teal and vendors lined the docks with an eclectic mix of African wares for sale.

The whole purpose of this pitstop was to see the Cape Fur Seal colony. It was 40 rand for a 45minute boat ride out to the rocks. Not a bad deal, considering that translates to around 5 Canadian dollars.

As we waited for our ship, the Calypso, to pull into port, I was standing on the edge of the dock when I noticed something moving underneath the water. Before I even had time to guess at what it was, the friendly face of a seal poked up to the surface. He looked right at me, wiggled his whiskers, and then leisurely rolled onto his back to soak up the morning sun on his belly. For a good 5 minutes he just bobbed along the surface, oblivious to the ooohs and aaahhs of the crowd. I was maybe 8 feet away from him; it was a lovely, intimate way to kick off the seal watching.

The Calypso transported us out from the seclusion of bay and into the open sea. The bay is formed by a semi-circle ring of mountain range, so all around us towered mossy cliffs and mist-covered hilltops. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and the sunlight streamed freely onto the water and surrounding mountain range, making the spectrum of green flora and caramel-colored rock even more vibrant. As we approached the mouth of the ocean, the waves got larger and the ride a little more fun rougher.

Once we rounded the corner, the low-lying shape of Duiker Island appeared in the distance. It is less of an island than it is a large rock, but you couldn't even see the grey rock as it was smothered in brown seals. The boat made a sweeping circle around the colony and it was incredible to see the animals in their own habitat. None seemed to mind the boat and many came right up to the side, flipping and turning in the sea. The water rippled and  bubbled with the sheer number of seals swimming it, while those on the rocks took the opposite approach and stretched out to nap.

The invigorating boat trip was followed up by a short drive to an ostrich farm.

At first, the sound of visiting an ostrich farm was ringing quite fun in my ear. Who doesn't love ostriches? They are dumb, awkward birds who bury their head in the sand. We eat them and their eggs for dinner. Nothing more than a glorified chicken, really.

Ermm. No.

No, these birds are downright terrifying.

As I walked up to the fence to get a closer view, a few bounded towards me and I quickly came to terms that these birds. are. huge. Okay so perhaps I am slightly vertically challenged, but still. It's just not natural to have birds look down upon you while their feet are still planted on ground.

Their head bobbed to and fro wildly atop their long neck, while one glance to their large, clawed feet conjured up visions of vicious dinosaurs. I was not exactly keen on getting anywhere near these creatures. Especially when I hear Paul offhandedly mention that they defend themselves by hooking victims with their large toe-claw to disembowel their enemy.


So, would I like to feed them? No, no I would not.


But this was a trip to push comfort levels, so I conceded, swallowed my fear as best I could, and shakily offered my treat-filled palms towards the crowd of monsters clamoring at the fence posts.


It was just as bad as I thought. The large beaks pulled skin as they grabbed the food and their aggression nearly knocked my hands to my sides. Not the best of experiences.


I'll just stick to interacting with them on my plate, thankyouverymuch. (*fun fact: even though they are birds, their meat isn't white, but red, and tastes more like beef!)

Well, there was one ostrich experience which was pretty sweet. A pair (they mate for life!) and their chick stopped traffic in the reserve park we were driving through. The baby was the size of a small chicken -- much more to my liking.

Cape of Good Hope was decidedly more pleasant. It marks the most South-Western point of all of Africa and is named after the sense of relief seafarers used to experience once they arrived at its shores, happy to know that a place of rest was before them.

South Africa's national flower, the King Protea

Just around the corner was a famous lighthouse which we hiked up to visit. They built it at the highest point of the mountain facing the sea, but didn't consider the fog factor, which rendered the lighthouse useless half the time. At least we know now that the engineers of Halifax Airport weren't alone in their blunder.

The fun part wasn't the lighthouse. Sure, the view was intense, but the real joy was when I peered down on a walking path below and spotted a family of baboons making their way along it.

I may or may not have squealed.

I had been waiting ALL DAY to see baboons! I was about 50 feet from them and the wait was so worth it. The only baboons/monkeys/gorillas I had ever seen was from behind cage bars in a zoo, so it was a great moment to see them out and about just like people.

We were in for an even bigger treat later on when our minibus had to stop for a troupe baboons to cross the road, just outside of Simon's Town. This was even better as they were only a few feet from our car. As I squirmed around excitedly, trying to get the best view of the babies, I heard the door locks 'click' shut. Peter kindly explained that most baboons have figured out how to open car doors. Nice.

The sad part came when I spotted a baboon hobbling along without a tail or a right paw. The reason behind his amputations might not be what you think. His injuries weren't sustained from another animal or in a fight for a mate. Local magic men trap baboons and chop off their limbs for muti -- a paste that is used for healing. It is illegal but there are no groups in place to patrol the area for traps. Sad thing, indeed.

At Simon's Town we parked our car at the side of the road and ran across it to meet a Shark Spotter. His job is exactly as the name suggests. He sits alongside the mountain road, overlooking the the sprawling (7 mile long!) while sand beach and keeps an eye out for sharks. If he spots one, a black flag is raised and the beach is cleared. The only equipment he uses are polarized sunglasses, binoculars, and his instinct.

Thankfully no sharks had been spotted that day, but he told us one was seen last Friday.

Then something magical happened.

A right-back whale leaped out of the sea and came crashing down in an explosion of foam.

From atop our mountain perch, me and the group were able to watch the group of whales for a good 15 minutes. I was quite surprised to see that they swam so close to the shore. Seeing a group of wild, free whales swimming in the ocean was certainly a highlight of the trip. Just amazing.

For the rest of the afternoon we drove along the coast with sand dunes spilling onto the highway until we reached our stop-over for the night: Stellenbosch. It was a quaint university town and while sparsely decorated, our hostel room offered comfy beds and the added luxury of a private bathroom.

Day one was a pretty incredible way to kick off the trip. The amount of wildlife came across was amazing. Amazing because they weren't caged or cornered off in any way, but just free and wild. It was the best, most memorable way to meet these incredible creatures for the first time.