Ostriches are Sneaky
The storm came in from the west with a fury overnight. High winds drove the heavy rain against the house, lashing at the windows. There wasn’t much hangover to nurse in the morning. We had sweated most of it out during our excessive dancing in the silent disco. The group lounged about making “cuppas” and bid farewell to some of the guests. The rain paused and we headed out for breakfast. Greg 2 and I had already had breakfast, but since we are hobbits, we were eager for second breakfast. At the waterfront in Simon’s town, we found Bertha’s cafe and feasted on deep fried calamari, eggs Benedict, Belgian waffles, and cheeseburgers. Baboons had come down from the hills overnight and were starting to raid shops for food. We kept a wary eye out.
After our meal, the fellowship continued to fracture as another contingent departed. We had a good faff until about 2:30 as we made preparations to head to the Cape of Good Hope. We gathered up some gear and made chip sandwiches before our short drive to the south.
The Cape of Good hope is the southwestern most point of the African continent. It is a common misconception that it is the southernmost point of the continent, but that distinction belongs to Cape Agulhas, 90 miles to the east. Underlain by the Peninsula Formation Sandstone or more locally, the Table Mountain Sandstone (approximately 500-400 million years old), the Cape is a rugged and wild place. Huge majestic cliffs tower over the breaking waves in False Bay and out in the South Atlantic. Up on the land though, the flora of the Cape Floristic Kingdom is everywhere. It is the world’s smallest (0.04% of land coverage), but one of the richest floristic groups, clocking in at 1,100 species of indigenous plants, including fynbos (pronounced fine-boss). The Cape of Good Hope is part of the Table Mountain National Park, run by South Africa National Parks, so there is a fee to enter. At the east end of the Cape, there is a lighthouse, a funicular, and a visitor center. With limited time, we wanted to see the Cape itself. I’ll have to come back for those.
The weather had cooperated once again. The clouds rolled away, the rain stopped, the sun came out and poured in warm light through scattered clouds. The wind remained, but after all, this is the Cape, and we should expect some level of wind near the ocean.
As we approached the point, several cars had stopped on the side of the road. To our very surprise, it was a mating pair of ostriches pecking about next to the ocean. None of us would have expected to see a thunder goose here. These were clearly sneaky coastal ostriches (Struthio Oceanus Clandestinus).
At the end of the road was the Cape of Good Hope. The roar of massively crashing waves breaking against the cliffs filled our ears. It was low tide, and dark green kelp scattered the large rubbly boulders that made up the beach. Out in the breakers, a large rock was home to a group of seals. Enormous sprays washed over them continuously.
A small trail leads up the hill and onto the escarpment. Intrepid in our desire for better views, we followed up the path which was made from logs and stone. There were a fair number of tourists from all provenance here. A Rhabdomys mouse scurried past at our feet. At the top of the cliff, we took in an absolutely breathtaking panorama. After a few photos, I remembered our mantra: put the camera down and just enjoy the view. To the east, the other end of the Cape and the lighthouses. To the north, green and yellow hills with a winding trail through them, another pair of ostrich pecking their way across the verdant hillside. To the west, crepuscular rays were breaking through clouds, reflecting bright off the ocean front. And to the south, we were treated with a gorgeous rainbow and the threat of another band of rain.
Red-winged starling
Rhabdomys, or a four-striped mouse
Looking west toward Cape Point
The rainbow was a fitting sight. South Africa is known as the Rainbow Nation. At the end of Apartheid in 1994, South Africa adopted a new national flag, taking colors and symbols from a truly diverse population: black, green, and yellow from traditional African peoples to represent the people, the land, and the wealth; while red, white, and blue represented the people of European descent.
We headed down the hill, collected some group photos with the sign once more, and drove back out towards the gate. The park closes before sunset, which was a disappointing circumstance as we had been hoping to watch the sunset with some beverages in hand. However, the park was not done with us yet. A small herd of eland were grazing beside the road as we made our way out, adding to our fauna count for the day. The park also hosts some herds of zebra and other antelope. Certainly it made me feel that I had justified humping my 500 mm lens all the way from the US for something more than penguins.
Eland
The ride back to the house was quiet and reflective. The rainbow we had seen marked the halfway point of the trip. This would be the furthest south that we would reach in our journey and it meant that we’d all be heading back home soon.