Wind and Waves at Kalk Bay

We rented a car again the other day. Since we're here for a bit longer than anticipated, David has decided to tackle the cap rails … a project that he will undoubtedly explain in a later Blue View. The new project required some supplies that were heavy and not readily available within walking distance. Car hires here are not expensive, by the way. A compact car with unlimited mileage and insurance coverage runs less than $20US/day … not too bad on the budget at all. Since we had the car, and the scavenger hunt for supplies wasn't an all-day  endeavor, we decided to take a ride. On several occasions, our friends on Wind Wanderer had mentioned a neat little restaurant that they'd tried along the False Bay coast in a little town called Kalk Bay, about 25 minutes from Cape Town. It was the first fair day we'd had in more than a week. It was cold and clear, but the wind was howling as we set off from the yacht club across the Cape peninsula. We stopped at Sunrise Beach to watch the wind surfers do their thing. Man, were they ever flying along close to the shore in the 30-40+ knot winds.

We passed through several little coastal towns that might have warranted a look-see on a calmer, warmer day. Downtown Muizenberg looked like a war zone. Off-season road construction made the going slow and the main street sights painful to the eye.

The road hugged the coastline. Opposite the beach at St. James, charming historic homes overlooked the sea. Colorful surfer shacks lined the shore in vibrant contrast to the grey, foaming sea beyond and the more sedate, graceful mansions across the street.

We came around a curve and saw the sign for Kalk Bay and pulled over. The beach had been gobbled up by the surf. The waves were stupendous as they crashed onto the shore. From a distance, we could see the little boat harbor. The red navigation light at the end of the seawall was taking a mighty beating. I had seen photos taken at this very spot before, but I never thought I'd be taking any quite as dramatic.

We made our way into town and across the Metro railroad tracks into the muddy parking lot of the Harbour House. From the outside, the place didn't look all that appealing, but inside was a different story. There were several little restaurants operating independently.  We were looking for Live Bait and found it almost immediately. Fortunately, it was mid-week and off-season and we secured a lovely table for two by the window. Live Bait is on the ground floor of the Harbour House and its windows are even with the rocky shoreline and the sea wall. The wave action was unbelievable. The menu was interesting, but the view had all our attention.

We felt ourselves flinching, a natural reflex as a monster wave pounded against the window just beside us. We could feel the thud of the powerful smash and then heard the gasps and oohs and ahs of other restaurant patrons as tons of angry sea slammed into the windows. Lunch was wonderful, but it was hard to concentrate on the cuisine. Good food is still no competition for the power of Neptune. We lingered over lunch and watched intently, totally mesmerized. The tide was coming in and as it did, the already gargantuan waves increased, becoming more and more thunderous. What a show!

When we finally left the restaurant, we noticed several people on the harbor pier, as fascinated as we were with the spectacular wave display. Despite the wind, we headed out to join the small crowd and noticed several big sea lions sitting on the wharf, waiting out the chaotic seas and catching up on their rest.

Fish filets, hung out to dry under a covered area of the wharf, flapped in the breeze like flags. Cormorants, begging for scraps, gathered around a man cleaning fish.

Out on the pier, the wind was fierce and cold, but the incomparable spectacle more than made up for the discomfort. Big fishing boats pitched and rocked, straining on their lines. The combination of wind, waves and boat noise was near deafening, but oh so exhilarating.

We stood on the wharf and watched till we were chilled through and through. Our faces and hands were red with cold and wind burn. It was late afternoon now and reluctantly, we returned to the car for the drive back to Cape Town.  It was a breathtaking experience, happily witnessed from land and gladly not from the decks of Nine of Cups.

Cape Town Blooms

The Adderley Flower Market

Cape Town offers several markets, but none are so colorful as the Adderley Flower Market. The market is tucked into Trafalgar Place, a dark, partially-covered, pedestrian alley between Standard Bank and the Golden Acre Mall. We stumbled upon it. We didn't really know  it was there until we walked by and saw the vast array of flowers that appeared out of nowhere and extended a full block back to Parliament Street.

The Adderley Flower Market is one of the city's oldest markets dating back 120+ years. It's a Cape Town institution, open Mondays through Saturdays year round. It appears the first flower seller was commissioned by Stuttafords, a well-known, now defunct, city department store to provide wild flowers for resale at the store. After delivering her quota to Stuttafords, she sold her excess bouquets on Adderley Street to passersby. Soon other industrious vendors followed and a cottage industry was created. The flower businesses have been handed down through the generations from grandmother, to mother, to daughter and the venue has moved from the Adderley streetside pavement to Trafalgar Place.

The venue isn't particularly pretty. It's dark and dingy with refuse strewn around … some flower parts, some discarded trash. It's crowded with folks trying to walk through or enter the mall. On one side of the alley, the flowers are displayed on plastic crates in old 5-gallon plastic paint buckets. The vendors sit opposite, sometimes in the mall entrance or the mall fire exits, on upturned buckets or in dilapidated plastic chairs. The fragrance of the flowers drifts in the air at odds with frequent whiffs of fast food from McDonalds and Nandos inside the mall.

Originally, only wild flowers were picked and sold, ultimately causing a problem as more and more vendors picked the area clean of flowers. With an increased market demand, growing flowers in home gardens became more prominent over the years. The term “blomdraers”, flower carriers, evolved for those people who carried the flowers to town and sold them and it is still used today. Evidently, there were more vendors in years past, but changes in buying habits, traffic congestion and competition from every supermarket that sells fresh flowers has caused a decline in the number of vendors and threatens the continued existence of the market. Nowadays, though some flowers are still home grown, the bulk of the flowers are trucked in from Johannesburg.

We watched one woman working deftly to create a distinctive bird-of-paradise floral arrangement. As soon as it was done, a younger woman, her daughter maybe, whisked it away for delivery.

All the typical flower market blossoms were represented … lilies, mums, roses, daisies, dahlias… but there were also more exotics displayed like ornamental cabbage flowers and sunflowers.

There were beautiful proteas and local fynbos dyed in a variety of startling colors that Mother Nature never intended.

Buyers can choose individual blooms or pick up a pre-packaged bouquet.

The vendors are noted for witty and boisterous repartee. They were pretty subdued when we were there in the mid-afternoon. One fellow, however, was more than happy to pose for me and took great delight in seeing his picture on my camera.

Midway through our list of errands was not the time to purchase a bouquet, but I might be able to convince the captain that a return visit for some fresh flowers might be in his best interest.

Woodstock - Tags, Graffiti & Street Art pt. 2

Back on the streets and into the hood, each corner we turned within the maze of Woodstock's streets  held something of a surprise. Note how the minaret of the mosque in the background adds to the Islamic theme of the mural.

Then there's Gympie Street, a once notorious part of Woodstock famed for gang clashes, heavy drug dealing (the locals call it Drug Alley) and “smash and grab” thefts and muggings. They've obviously cleaned it up quite a bit and the street art adds a civilized air to a street once known as one of the most dangerous in the world.

We were surprised and disappointed to see some work defaced by taggers. We wondered the thoughts, if any, behind the vandalism. Dislike of the work? Disrespect to the artist? Or more probably … I've got a spray can and want to put my mark here?

Some of the buildings are so derelict and dilapidated, we wondered how they managed to still be standing. Others had been reclaimed and gentrified … fresh paint, windows replaced, latched ornate gates leading to small garden plots. There seems to be no distinct line of demarcation between the two and the street art works to tie it all together

Vacant lots, strewn with trash and old rubbish, begged to be included … and they were.

The messages are varied. Masai from the UK concentrates on endangered species.

We especially liked several murals by Jack Fox. The shrewd “fox” always has a story to tell.

And so, we've shared with you some of what we saw, but I did save the best till last. My favorite ...

By the way, if ever anyone asks me to describe a perfect day … this was mine.

Note:  I did my best to attribute the artist's name to every piece that I could. For those I could not attribute, I beg the pardon of the artist.