Capewinter

We went for breakfast at Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens yesterday. Wow. Winter in Cape Town sure is terrible. We actually got to spot the elusive Sombre Bulbul a couple of times - the call of which has been obsessing me for a year.

Missed the mountain on the weekend thanks to weather. Got up long before dawn to get up there early. Was delayed by minibus taxis blocking the green light. Hurrah for private enterprise over public services! Got there though. No cultists on a Monday. I found I somewhat missed them. Thinking of my sibling who’s experiencing impaired vision due to COVID - a rare but not undocumented effect. Covid is real, it’s still here, and it’s still a serious disease. Holding thumbs. ...

Now with the correct month - I’m a dozy fool. It’s been two and a half years! We’re a six piece band now and get to knock out some baller surf-guitar classics like the Hawaii Five-O theme tune. The Striped Horse is a great place for it - just by Surfer’s Corner with an open fire and a thick list of craft beers.

I tried ascending past the blockhouse after a comment from @suhairsolomon until the scramble gave way to an alarming verticality and I thought I should check the route and come back next time. Notes: the lower slopes are dotted with cults - usually with one person shouting excitedly. But the one I passed closest to were spread out about 4m from each other all saying different stuff rapid fire. As Buffy The Vampire Slayer put it: “Note to self: Religion… freaky.” ...

Newlands Forest was mighty damp after the huge amount of rain we had last week. To cross the streams with dry feet I had to do some tricky hops on slippery rocks. I amazed myself by managing to cross three of these rain gorged torrents without falling in. A second mountain biker alerted me to their presence with a bike bell. That makes two… ever. It’s such a tiny, inexpensive object but it conveys so much respect to the other mountain users. Most of them though, are not well-loved by the rest of us. I have a bell on my bike just for getting myself around, let along tearing down narrow, twisting tracks. Sport riders in Cape Town need to be better. ...

The memorial to ruthless imperialism and capitalism. Even sharks respect power - it’s a really basic thing to revere. It’s much more appropriate to a sophisticated primate to revere kindness and cooperation. Well, at least people can enjoy the free public space and every generation of kids can ride the scaled down imitations of the Trafalgar Square lions - none of them thinking for a moment about a dusty old Victorian narcissist.

Despite having some expensive sunglasses ruined by the wind ripping them off my shirt and skidding them - lenses down - for 50m across a tarred road, the irritation I woke up with couldnt stand up to Table Mountain Park at dawn. This has to be among the best city parks on Earth. I’m not quite fit enough to run up the steep mountainside to the “King’s Blockhouse” (a grandiose name for a very tiny little fort) so, since I was scrambling anyway, I could take my camera. I was remembering how this seemed like quite a big hike even as a teenager. I was clearly very unfit then.

Last Sunday we went to the Paarl Arboretum. I’ve never been before. It’s a wonderful place - a huge park divided into continents for its collection of beautiful exotic and local trees. This is the lovely Cedar of Lebanon (celebrated on that nation’s flag). It looks like it’ll be a great place for lazing around reading and picnicking in summer. I was actually surprised how few people were there on a sunny day in winter. Wonderful birds too. We saw four African Hoopoes pottering about on the grass - a lovely, iconic bird that I don’t think I’ve ever seen this close to Cape Town before.

The date palm at the confluence stands on a tiny island. About the only thing on that bank spared destruction by the diggers and dozers. A good thing too as the willow beneath the palm seems to be a nesting site for Night Herons. Hopefully the cranes will be hauled away as they begin to rust.

This ruined cottage was an irresistible moonlight attraction when we were teenagers. And the wall was a seat where we could climb up and pretend we were vampires.