'You're All John Wayne!'

A highlight of this trip is our early January stay at a horseback safari lodge in Limpopo Province in the far northeast.  Other than one slow-paced ride in Texas Canyon outside of Tucson, neither of us has been on a horse in over three years.  While we've made that clear in our profile information to the safari lodge owners, we both thought it wise to have at least one 'go' at a 'real' ride before arriving in Limpopo.  We find our way to 'Horse Around', a highly recommended stable, and arrange for a long ride the following day through the surrounding Witzenberg Mountains. 

Bright and early, we're all kitted-out - half chaps, riding pants, helmets, and gloves - and choosing our mounts with John, the owner/wrangler.  I choose Don Pedro, a stocky gelding with an Appaloosa sire, and Tim gets Sergeant, a retired polo pony.  John, a delightfully friendly and very chatty fellow -  and lifetime horseman - is quick to point out that our 'seat' is all wrong for English trail riding.  'You're all John Wayne!' 

Fortunately, our long-ago lessons in a proper hunt seat are still in muscle memory, and in no time we're sitting properly, holding the reins with two hands, and are pronounced ready to ride.

John's assistant, Terence, checking stirrup length.

Over hill and dale, through the mountains, past miles of vineyards, and things are going pretty well. We're able to do a posting trot, even a couple of canters, and other than a wrenching heartache for my beloved Cricket - who I rode with for 10 years and somewhere around 3,000 miles - I'm slowly adjusting to Don Pedro.  

Two hours in, and we stop for a water and snack break.

Back in the saddle, headed toward home and then, quicker than I can type these words, it all turned to a dog's dinner!  

We're cantering across the top of a vineyard, and Sergeant suddenly decides he's going to pass Don Pedro. Tim's best efforts at control are in vain.  Don Pedro lurches left, then right, ('that horse is not going to get ahead of me!') and just to make his point throws in a buck, and before I can even register what's happening,  I'm sailing through the air, watching the ground approach with alarming speed.

I've fallen off before but never while at a canter and never onto drought-hardened ground embedded with rocks.  Tim, watching in horror, characterized it as a 'textbook-perfect landing.'  To say I was protected might seem fantastic to some, but others reading this will smile and nod knowingly.  Other than dirty duds and boots, I was unhurt.  In fact, I got back in the saddle and rode the remaining two miles back to the corral.  (no photo of this event!)

But I was sore - very sore.  Shot off an email to the Limpopo safari owners asking for the calmest, gentlest horse in their herd!!

From District Six to Four Nobel Peace Prize Winners and a Wild Ride With the Tourist Police!

Long before the internet, twitter accounts, and FB, we heard of the horrors of apartheid.  But those horrors were half a world away, and in the US, in the 60's, we had our own horrible problems to contend with.  Who knows, maybe some even consoled ourselves with something along the lines of  'well, at least we're not as bad as South Africa . . . '  I'm sure there's a moral or philosophical term to describe that kind of thinking or rationale . . .

But here we are, 50+ years later in South Africa about to visit a wee museum close to the CBD and its sole mandate is to preserve the history of a local neighborhood known as 'District Six'.

District Six was a neighborhood in Cape Town that was non-white.  It was a real 'hood - descriptions of it made me think of some of the old neighborhoods in NYC before gentrification - Little Italy, Chinatown, Bed-Stuy - not all sweetness and light by any means but nonetheless truly home for thousands of people who'd been pretty much ostracized or ghettoized from the larger city.

What was different about District Six in Cape Town was that in the early 1960's the Cape government declared District Six a 'whites only' zone and announced that the residents - all 60,000 of them - were being relocated to Cape Flats, miles away, far from everything they'd ever known as home.  Every home and business was bulldozed to the ground; one church was left standing.  Forced relocation.

The special tragedy of all this is that the land is still vacant - red earth and one church where this once vibrant neighborhood stood.  One of the displays I read said that the government wanted the land for industrial/commercial development in conjunction with increasing port trade.  Obviously that didn't happen.

It took until 2005 for the government to begin exploring the process of restitution.  It's still on-going, and this Museum is one of the products of that effort.  On the floor is a map of D6 where former residents have identified their homes and left mementos of their life there.

Richard Rives, a South African writer who I'd never heard of, has written extensively about life during the time of apartheid and is quoted frequently in the museum displays.

I am constantly humbled by the resilience and compassion that South Africans - both black and white -  have displayed on this long journey.  Most everyone we've talked to love their country, are cautiously optimistic about its future, and confident that despite the current political climate, things will improve.  It is truly a work in progress.

One of the most impressive markers for their progress is Nobel Square at the Victoria and Albert Waterfront in Cape Town.  It is a larger than life sculptural memorial to the four Nobel Peace Prize winners from South Africa:  Albert Luthulu, Desmond Tutu, FW de Klerck, and Nelson Mandela.  These four men represent the twentieth century struggle of South Africa.  In fact, when Luthulu was awarded the prize in 1960, as a black man he had to get special permission to leave the country to attend the acceptance ceremony.

While we're at the V&A Waterfront, we have to take in a couple of the tourist attractions, most notably the Two Oceans Aquarium.  We were a bit ho hum about going, but when Deb and Paul came home raving about it, we said - 'let's give it a go'.  So glad we did!  What a splendid job they've done.

Little kids and big kids loved this!

We spent the longest time watching these marvelous wee creatures who are the only ones in nature where the male gives birth!  Yup - they do and they come to life in the male's womb (?) and then emerge as teeny, tiny seahorses.  We were so hoping one of these guys languishing on the bottom of the display were about to give birth but it looked like a long labor.

Then we met Bob, the sea turtle.

To look at him now, you never know that he arrived at the Aquarium in very bad shape - not eating, lethargic, and totally distressed.  No wonder!  After loving care and lots of good, healthy turtle food, Bob excreted the contents of this tray!  Certainly made us want to swear off all forms of plastic forever!!!

Then there were the jellies - no, not jellyfish because they are not fish.

In fact, they don't have a brain, a heart, or a spine but what havoc they can wreak.  A smack of jellies can stop a battleship, and one species is the most venomous creature in the world.

And last is the eerie, scary ray . . .

So very glad we took Deb and Paul's advice and went - absolutely wonderful!
On the way home, we pass harbor seals lolling and frolicking  . . .

And we also happen on a group of jump ropers who were absolutely spectacular!  There were nine young men, a drummer and their coach.  These fellows were amazing.

It's no wonder Cape Town is known as the 'jewel of the Cape'!

Can't leave this post or Cape Town without relating one hysterical incident.  On the way home from the Waterfront, we decide to try and find my church which has an address of 60 The Strand.  We know where The Strand is so #60 should be pretty easy to find - right?  Well, there is a promenade at that address with lots of wee shops, only some of which have numbers.

We're standing on the street, puzzling as to what to do next when one of the local 'Tourist Police' approaches us and asks if he can help.  Before we can politely decline his offer, a whole car of them appears and the driver commands:  'You're old, get in!'

The driver orders two of his fellow officers out of the back seat, leaves them standing on the street, and off we go!  We have no choice but to explain what we're looking for and the remaining two officers and driver are all eyes - where is the church we're seeking??  While all eyes are searching, they receive a radio call about a robbery in progress at a bank!  This is our chance - we're out of the car in a flash, with lots of 'thank you's' and are just a block or so from we started!!

Never did find the church.

To the Top of the Mountain or What May Qualify as the Most Exhlirating Ten Minutes of My Life!

Every city has its iconic structure or vista, and Cape Town is no exception.  It is Table Mountain National Park and its cable car to the top with its commanding view over the entire city and all that surrounds it.  This is certainly one of the most popular things to do in Cape Town and waits can run hours.  Another challenge are the notorious winds that buffet the Mountain, making the journey downright challenging if not dangerous.  In fact, when we get to the top, there is a huge sign warning visitors that if they hear a very loud horn while on the mountain, they are to make their way to the cable car immediately - yes, immediately!  But I get ahead of myself . . .

We have been blest with an absolutely perfect day for our ride and, amazingly, very few other tourists have decided to go at the same time.  We've bought our tickets in advance so we are whisked to the front of the line and only wait through one car-load before making our way onto the tea bag looking thing that holds 65 people and, frankly, just looking at it makes my knees knock!  To my fear of heights I can now add fear while dangling hundreds of feet over rocks in a thing that looks like a giant upside down cartoon bubble!

I'm sure there's an engineering or physics term that describes this system - but, put simply, one goes up while the other goes down.  And here comes our very own teabag!

We're loaded into the teabag (far fewer than its 65-person capacity I'm happy to note), and it makes its way up the mountain.  That's our shadow as we ascend.

And then suddenly, the floor starts to move!!!  I'm clutching a metal bar that begins dragging my hands to the left (I quickly let go of the bar), and  I'm standing in front of an opening with only three metal bars and a metal plate that comes up to my knees between me and certain death.  These cars are called 'Rotair' and they make a full 360 degree rotation while in their five-minute ride.  I think the operator said something about the moving floor but maybe it was in Africaans . . .

We're headed for that peanut-sized hole atop that huge pike of rock.

Turns out this wee hole is the gateway to a rather large installation complete with a restaurant, gift shop and wi-fi.

And the views are breathtaking, gobsmacking, spectacular - not enough big words to describe!

Just off to the side of Tim's head is Robben Island, infamous as Mandela's imprisonment for decades.

And remarkably, there are a whole series of hiking trails on top of the mountain - you could spend the whole day up here.

Another incredible view!  That's Cape Town on the lower right, nestled up to the mountains, Lion's Head, looming over Cape Town's ocean-front suburbs on the Atlantic Ocean. and Robben Island in the upper right.

And now for the ride back to the bottom.  I think I'm prepared - made that ascent without needing an adult Pampers - but the ride down may be even more death-defying.  Those cables to the left are for the car that's ascending while we're on the way down.

OMG - are those cables actually tethered to anything or is this some sort of diabolical optical illusion???

Help - I can't even see the 'bottom'!!!!  That ribbon at the bottom is actually a line of busses and cars in the parking lot!!

We're nearing terra firm and the 'up' car has just about reached the peanut hole.  Can you see it??

And next to us the famous Devil's Peak lazily huffs out some smoke . . .

I have to take a photo of the 'works' or, in this case, where engineering defies gravity several hundred times a day!

Was all this only five minutes up and five minutes down??  Hard to believe . . . well done, Table Mountain Cable Car Company!!  And congratulations Table Mountain on being named one of the Seven Nature Wonders of the World.  

Cape Town - Penguins, Protea, and Fynbos

On our way into Cape Town for a 5-day stay in an Air BnB 'luxury suite', we detour to Boulders Bay and the Cape of Good Hope, the former to visit a penguin colony which allows visitors to walk and swim with the wee ones.  Paul and Deb opt for the pay and play option and spend an hour or so galivanting  among the rocks with a gang of their favorite creatures.  We spend a while on the (free) boardwalk and get some close-up pics of the guys hanging out.

Then we head off to the sound of music and find a black male family group (brothers and uncles and cousins) serenading tourists.  They are very Ladysmith Black Mombazo . . . 

. . . and of course we have to have one of their CDs. 

Off to the Cape of Good Hope which is a surprisingly long way south of Cape Town.  Along the road, we see numerous signs warning travelers:  Do Not Feed the Baboons!  They are Wild Animals and Dangerous!  (wait - aren't these the same creatures who were wandering freely in a family group of at least 25 within what seemed like yards of our cottage in the Crags??)  

Arrive at the Cape of Good Hope Park and discover to our dismay that the admission fee is outrageous - almost $15 per person and decide to go for the photo op and call it good!

We negotiate our entry into Cape Town, thanks to GPS, and make our way to our flat which is indeed luxurious and smack dab in the center of the CBD, a totally happening place and ground zero for backpackers!  We have secure, garage parking so the car (and driver Paul) will have a long-deserved break for the next five days while we explore this gem of a city.

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With our two-day 'Hop-On Hop-Off' ticket in hand and a map of all the bus routes (there are four) we're off for the Kirstenbosch Gardens, the most famous garden in South Africa and one of the most magnificent gardens in the world.

Cape flora is astounding in its diversity and sheer numbers.  There are more plant species here than in all of the UK with species found here and nowhere else in the world.  Thanks to the foresight of the early settlers of Cape Town, plans for the garden were begun as early as 1895 when Cecil Rhodes deeded to the Colony a large portion of his holdings for the establishment of a garden.  He also planted the incomparable Avenue of Camphor Trees which is still one of the highlights of the Garden.

We just 'oohed' and 'aahed' and wanted to hug each and every one them!

When Cecil Rhodes died in 1902, plans to develop a garden began.  Most propitiously, a young botanist from Cambridge, Henry Harold Pearson, made his way to the Cape in 1903 to assume the chair of a newly-created Department of Botany at the South African University.  He immediately saw the incredible potential of Rhodes' gift and, in 1913, after much negotiating, the land was declared a national botanical site.  Pearson devoted the rest of his life to creating this garden; he lived on site and is buried here.

In 1913 it was overgrown with invasive and alien plants and scores of feral pigs.  It was pretty much a mess.  It took decades to rehabilitate and, sadly, Pearson died in 1916, long before his dream, to create a botanical sanctuary to preserve and protect the local native plant species, became a reality.  I can only imagine how delighted he would be with the 2004 designation of Kirstenbosch as a World Heritage Site, the only botanical garden in the world to have attained this status.

Since we're here at the end of the blooming season (May-October), we're seeing a mere fraction of the colors - especially for the wondrous protea of which there are over 300 varieties in South Africa alone, over 2000 varieties worldwide!  And here I thought it was a single species with one maybe two, ginormous exotic blooms per plant and priced high enough to make me think about preserving them rather than putting them in an arrangement!

Protea range in size from a rather small bush to a huge tree, hence the origin of its name by Linnaeus (namer of almost all plants) in honor of Proteus the Greek god for its ability to morph, seemingly at will.  It's also commonly known as the sugarbush.  One of the late bloomers we did see.

And one factoid  - the South African cricket team is called the Proteas.  Imagine any other sports team named for a flower??  The Oakland Orchids?  Detroit Delphiniums??  Atlanta Agapanthus??

Back to the native plant species - fynbos - that make this garden so remarkable.  Most fynbos are what we would call understory and rugged, shrubby, tough plants able to survive the varied and extreme conditions on the Cape.  Despite seeing a great many fynbos, the only one that stuck for me was the paper flower, a green, dense plant with the tiniest white flowers.

There are scores of plants here we've never heard of, never seen, and all uniquely adapted to the climate and growing conditions in the Cape.  Another big section of the garden is given over to cycads which have been around since the days of the dinosaurs and were a major food source for those big vegans.  Tim and a gang of cycads.

There are miles and miles of walking paths in the garden and one of the most dramatic takes us to the forest canopy walkway where we can look down on the birds and wildlife that live here.

One of the dramatic views from the walkway. . .

If I remember correctly, this is a eucalyptus tree that's over 500 years old.  We both half expected some sort of Tolkien being to emerge from the base and beckon us into his kingdom!

Of course, we had to make a stop in the gift shop, and no surprise, we opted for several packs of protea seeds and will give them a go in our Arizonan/Tucsonan floral kingdom.  
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In one corner of the gift shop we stopped to watch this young women making bead animals which are a big tourist item.  I've been fascinated with these creations which range from wee key rings to ¾ scale zebra.  She was working on a small lion (lying on its side on the table), and I couldn't imagine the tediousness of threading all these minuscule beads on wire.  Well, lo and behold African ingenuity - her husband had designed this almost mysterious means for threading beads quickly.  She loads a bunch of beads into the (green) well, pushes an old ball point pen set in the middle of the well, and the whole thing starts spinning.  She gently tips the wire into the well and miraculously the beads just make their way up onto the wire!  Something else for us to try after returning home.  

Seeds and beads!!

Our first day in Cape Town and it was brilliant!

A Most Remarkable Museum and an Unusual Monument

It's sometimes hard to believe that less than 60 years ago this country was a model of intolerance, bigotry, racism, and human rights abuses that were legend.  Whites ruled - everything, everywhere - and blacks were little more than slaves living in townships rather than on plantations.  Their living and working conditions were abysmal, they had no rights, no vote, and organized efforts to better their lives (the African National Congress, the African Communist Party, and other rebel movements) resulted in the leaders spending decades in prison, going into hiding or exile, or being executed.  Internationally, South Africa was embargoed, shunned, and looked upon with disgust and despair. 

Then, finally in 1990, Premier De Klerck took the courageous step of unbanning the ANC and other previously banned groups, and freeing Nelson Mandela and a host of other leaders from prison.  Interestingly, Mandela, when told of de Klerck's decision, argued that it was too soon for him to be released.  De Klerck ignored his request and released him anyway. after transferring him to Drakensroot Prison near Franschoek.  Both he and Mandela won the Nobel Peace Prize for their efforts.  But that was just the beginning.  Here was a country that had a hideous legacy and a whole lot of damaged and angry black people.  

And a bunch of frightened whites.  Many left, some adopted a wait and see attitude but kept their guns loaded and close at hand, and others actually looked at what they could do to repair centuries of inequality and abuse.  One of those was the family that had occupied this site for 325 years doing business as the Delta winery.  Amazingly, the first of that family (Hans Silverbach and his freed slave wife, Angela Van de Caab),  when they decided to settle here chose the exact same spot to build their home as the ancient San people had thousands of years before.

They instituted their own sort of mini-Truth and Reconciliation effort.  Using their vineyard as a template, they began a process of reconciling their family's history of participating in the apartheid system with an enlightened, egalitarian enterprise.  Working conditions improved dramatically, housing was upgraded, education became the norm rather than the exception.  Slowly, the vineyard became a model enterprise and is now the site of a modest museum that reflects their efforts to right the wrongs and celebrate the culture of both the blacks as well as the aboriginal peoples.  It is jointly managed and run by the workers and the family.  Plaques in the museum identify the 200 lives given to the farm during the era of slavery.

It's a modest two rooms, one of which is given over to a history of the aboriginal peoples who were dispossessed by the Boers and then subject to apartheid.  A sobering and inspiring place . . . 

We've traveled in scores of countries and have never seen a monument to a language.  There is one here, in Paarl, just outside Franschhoek, to the Africaans language.  Known officially as the Taal Monument, it was completed in 1975 and can be seen long before arriving.  It is full of architectural symbolism, most notably the three soaring spires representing the three major linguistic influences on Africaans - Indo-European, Eastern, and Khoi.  

Listening to people speaking it, I can certainly hear German, what I think is Dutch, and then something totally unfamiliar.  No wonder, when you look at the variety of languages from Xhosa to Malay and Hindi that have contributed to Africaans.  There are a total of something like 500 languages in all of South Africa, thanks to the living tribal languages in the rural areas.  Africaans and English are still the lingua franca and we've had no difficulty - almost all signs are in both languages and nearly everyone speaks English.

The monument has a series of symbolic elements designed to represent the influences of the language groups and their fusion into Africaans.  A lovely water feature softens the earth elements and a series of woodland paths invite you to take time to wander and observe.

It's a spectacular setting, complete with cafe and gift shop and loads of places for locals to come and have a picnic or spend the day.  Our first ever visit to a monument to a language!