A South African Wedding
The reason for our trek down here to the bottom of Africa was for my friend’s wedding, so I would be remiss for leaving out the focal point of this trip.
While the womenfolk started getting ready for the ceremony, five of the gentlemen headed down the hill for breakfast at Boulders Beach Hotel. The sun was bright and warm, gleaming off the blue waters of the bay.
We had a good breakfast and lingered about for a bit, trading stories about wildlife encounters and places that we’d like to visit. I learned that, in some ways, America is an intimidating place for foreigners to visit. It’s too big. There’s too much to do. Too many quality places to go. And too spread out if they want to visit, say, New York City and the Grand Canyon and Florida. I also learned that there is some concern about our crime rates, our gun control/mass shootings, and about the state of American political affairs. I’ll leave these topics alone here. We can debate/discuss them over a nice beverage next to a campfire sometime. The arrival of a nice red-winged starling reminded us that we had work to do up the hill.
The rest of the morning was consumed with preparations for the ceremony. A frenzied coalition set about moving tables and chairs and crockery and cutlery, flowers, furniture, food, and photos. During the chaos of it all, I watched as a Southern double-collared sunbird would occasionally swing through and land on the same spots every 15-20 minutes. As the gentlemen wound down their end of the prep, I had a few minutes to post up on the terrace above to watch and wait for my feathered friend to return. Birding requires patience and it requires some knowledge and intel on when and how and where your quarry is going to move. After about 20 minutes, my target returned to a good spot and I fired off a few shots before it disappeared again on its route.
A Southern double-collared sunbird.
The ceremony itself was lovely. Words were said. “Do you?” “Yes” “And you?” “Yep” “Great, go on, get going.” Or something like that. Champagne and cake were passed around, the crowd jubilant. Post-ceremony, a croquet set was brought out and arranged on the lawn. No one was quite sure of the rules of croquet other than that there were some balls that you needed to whack through a thing with a mallet. Greg 2 did an exceptional job teaching the assembly the finer points of croquet.
The couple headed down to the beach for wedding photos and a contingent of the party trekked along to gawk in our suits and dresses. The park would not allow the photographer and the bride onto the beach for liability purposes, so we had to head up the coast a little ways to a public beach access where allegedly there were also penguins but no restrictions. We were quite the sight to behold: finely dressed folks in wedding attire walking along a busy boardwalk with dassies and pengies at arm’s length away in the brush. Tourists parted like the the Red Sea before Moses to make way for the beautiful bride. We arrived in time for the golden hour of sunlight. And there were indeed penguins on the beach! The weather was perfect. The light was perfect. The whole affair was perfect.
A dapper wedding attendant.
The rest of the tourists, however, were not perfect. As we got onto the beach, we saw a large group of young men and boys harassing a lone African penguin. This did not sit well with our group and there were harsh words exchanged with them as we herded them away from the water and away from the penguin. Several of them had crossed through a fence into a protected breeding area. They received exceptionally harsh admonitions. They really needed to read our piece on respectful distance when encountering wildlife. Certainly we understand the excitement and draw to be close to wildlife, but it is better to give wild animals their own space, especially if they seem alarmed or appear threatened (Remember, I’ve heard that a penguin’s wing is strong enough to break a man’s arm). One of the comments from our contingent was that our tourists were better behaved than the foreigners and that we had Americans with us. A nicer compliment has never been delivered to American tourists in the last 250 years. Greg 2 and I beamed. The couple managed to get some shots of them with a penguin in it as the group stayed back. But as we finished up, the obnoxious tourists immediately headed back in to chase the penguins, one of them attempting to kick one. More words were exchanged and the group pushed back again. We could not keep them at bay all evening though and it was disheartening to see them rush back again as we left. A security guard at the entrance to the park seemed either disinterested or unable to help. This is why we can’t have nice things.
Stay away from the penguins!
But we could not dwell on the fate of penguins at the hand of irreverent tourists. We had a party to attend to. A feast was laid out by the time we got back. A delicious spread of beef, soft pork belly, root vegetables, an apricot salad, pumpkin fritters with caramel, roasted potatoes, and bottles and bottles of pinotage wine awaited us back at the house. As soon as the sun set the temperature dropped, but the food and the wine and the good company kept us warm. The silent disco after dinner was a real hit as we switched between Euro house music, Gen X rock, and pop. Greg 2 and I taught the Afrikaaners how to properly skank to the Mighty Mighty Bosstones.
The party wound down by midnight as clouds rolled up from the west, the winds picked up, and the weather took a turn for the worse. But for as long as we had needed it, we got a gorgeous day for a gorgeous wedding.