Stellenbosch, Spier Winery, and A Terrible Massage

After a lively stay in Cape Town, we did an overnight in Stellenbosch, a colonial-ish university town surrounded by thick vineyards. We thought this would be our opportunity to finally slow down, drink wine, and relax for once. More than a few friends recommended going to Spier, famous for a few reasons: wine (duh), their farm-to-table food sources (omg), and an all day kids club (hooray!) 

In short, it was delicious, nice, and pretty. But, not particularly relaxing- because the minute we laid eyes on the black and yellow cruiser bikes, we all gained a second wind. We couldn't just not ride, so we brought the kids to their club and took off as if we were starring in a summer romance film in the country side. I loved every second of it, plus Mark took the kids on a bike ride while I could escape for an hour to get a relaxing massage. However, I am pretty sure I just don't know how to relax...

A five foot tall, 20-year old man-teen with a sparse goatee and meat-packer hands called me into the room. I made my usual idle chit-chat and during my massage I managed to learn the following: he's 1/2 Afrikaaner, 1/2 German, and 1/2 Portuguese (verbatim). The latter is why he likes spicy food so much. Though he's never left South Africa,  his dream is to travel to the United States and visit... Kansas... for no known reasons other than "it speaks to me" and that he likes the color yellow.  He loves gaming, hates his parents, and considers himself the black sheep of the family. Lastly, he hasn't quite graduated from massage school yet, but he knows deep in his heart that aromatherapy is a holistic-health game changer. He just couldn't stop talking! But I guess it's not his fault, I couldn't stop responding. 

As we came to the near end, I figured he'd finish the massage with arms and hands, my absolute favorite part. Apparently, that is an extra 250 Rand (17 USD), and proceeded to the scalp massage instead. He announced he'd be doing something different and not asking to see if I'd care.  Like an oily baptism, he ladled directly onto my face and proceeded to rub his hitch hiker thumbs into my 3rd eye. It felt like a mother sternly rubbing dirt off her kid's face, but grosser and totally unrelaxing. Then he palmed both sides of my head and squeezed it like a cantaloupe. With that, he left me to gather my leaked brains and get dressed. 

Now, I had a feeling he used a bit of oil, but I didn't know how much until I stood up. I wiped out taking bottles of lotions and the bedding with me. No one can make a graceful exit after that, but I held my lubricated head high as best I could, and strolled out the door like I did that sort of thing every day. I found Mark who had just dropped the kids off at their club. We drank some wine, ate dinner and laughed at my non-relaxful, sopping existence before preparing ourselves for a full day driving back to southern Namibia. 

The only photo I took that day, and I was of a tireD cow in Stellenbosch.
I guess I was too busy drinking wine and getting slopped on.

Cape of Good Hope

Mark and I promised ourselves there would be no hiking today. Who were we kidding? We ended up doing a 90 minute hike to sit on the edge of the world, at the Cape of Good Hope.  At least the hike was easy, consisting of 95% wonky boardwalk and 5% rocky trail, but at the end I was still sweating like a pig. I guess coastal humidity and wearing jeans didn't help. But oh, the views of churning waves, resident birds, and the rock faces made it all worthwhile. (If you could ignore the pregnant wife and shirtless husband trying to kill themselves taking selfies on the cliff edge.)

Upon our return, we had the option to hike up to the official top where the famous lighthouse sits and funicular stops but unanimous votes went to eating at the Two Oceans Restaurant. Mark and I were pretty convinced this restaurant, though with a spectacular view, would have food only "meh" at best. Boy were we wrong. Between ribs, roasted chicken, and sushi, we went to town. The food was absolutely amazing. My only advice, (and this goes overall for visiting Table Mountain National Park where Cape of Good Hope is situated) is to get there early. By the time we left the restaurant at 1:30pm, the line grew to over an hours' wait and at the park entrance, the line of cars to get in was 1/2 mile long.

Prior to this touristy adventure, we took the kids to Boulders Beach to see penguins. Here we could stroll the boardwalk and admire those adorable creatures do their bird thing from a distance and we could swim among them at a tiny public beach on the other side where there's a second entrance. Margo was convinced she'd be the first Schlink in the ocean. She packed her swim suit and towel and couldn't stop talking about it until she put her feet in and realized how cold the water really was. The icy water didn't stop a lot of people though, and by the time we got there around 9:30am, the beach was nearly packed. The park with the beach section closes their gates when it's filled to capacity, so: get there early if you plan to stay.

Overall, the penguins were cute and I am always glad to pay fees to support public parks. But. Our first experience of seeing penguins in the wild was last year in Ushuaia where we had to drive 2 hours, boat for 20 minutes, then hike to the rookery. The effort of arrival was real which made the whole journey feel magical. Here in South Africa, we walked past the entrance sign that said: Welcome To Boulders Beach, The Easiest Way To See Penguins In The Wild! Well I can't deny that statement. 

Cape of Good Hope.
Down below: Dias Beach. No swimming is allowed due to riptides
but you can descend a long staircase to get away
from camera toting tourists like myself.

View of the original lighthouse.
A second more useful lighthouse was built
farther down the cliff after a Portuguese liner named
Lusitania was wrecked in 1911.

Waiting for us at the end of the world.

Father daughter. The family that's
dirty together, stays together.

Mother son. He was telling me a story about  mutated
 seagull-shark with bomb hands.

You've been warned.

Hanging out.

Going for a swim.

Hiking in Kirstenbosch/Table Mountain

Mark and I thought we learned our lesson about the truthfulness of hike estimates in southern Africa. Sort of. On this particular day of sunshine and adventure, we didn't even look at the trail route ahead of time. Our initial plan was to arrive to Kirstenbosch Botanic Gardens and hang out, maybe hike for an hour or two on Table Mountain, then do lunch. But curiosity got the best of us when we found a trail named Skeleton Gorge. The path was shaded and the kids were in good moods (though their relative mood factor rarely changes what we do)- more importantly, I got out of my ugly sleep disturbed funk.  

We went up the trail what we now know is considered "a long and strenuous 6.2km hike." Indeed it was, but it was also fun: we crossed bubbling streams, climbed ladders, and scrambled up rocks. By the time we realized we'd have to ration the water for sake of getting down, we made it to where the path turned into sandy beach which meant of course we had to keep going. We might as well hang ourselves for sheep than lambs. 

Hard work did pay off, leading us to the beachy De Villiers Reservoir that sits in a saddle of Table Mountain. Clothes (some of them) went off immediately and the kids set to their much deserved break, playing in the ridiculously cold water. Mark did a total submersion. I wimped out and parked my butt on the shore. As all good things must come to an end, we mentally prepared ourselves to head down by looking at a map for the first time. It didn't really help. There was no where to go but down, and our options were to go down from whence we came, or down the Nursery Ravine. Fellow hikers advised we return down the latter, saying it was an easier descent. As I write this, I still have no idea if I agree with that statement. Not only did we lose the trail twice, we had no ladders on this route, and all four of us had to scramble down on our butts in the extremely technical sections.  

Taking a break under the scant shade in the ravine, we craned our necks up to see our progress and I saw a man-goat lithely skip down the rock faces. He must have been 85 years old, and scoffed when we made idle chat about the Nursery side being easier than Skeleton. Looking up again, I shrugged. Damage was done. And down we went. Eventually we made it back to Kirstenbosch and attacked the first water fountain we found. In total it was 6.5 hours of intense hiking, yet kids still had enough energy to run through the gardens, effectively blowing my mind. 

Back in town, we ate delicious pizza and drank too much wine, ending our terribly planned but ultimately great day. Mark reiterated to the kids (after both of us apologizing for our lack of preparation) that they were tough monsters: despite being tired, hungry, and thirsty, they were capable of physically pushing through tough times. I will full out brag here: without whining. I've never been so proud.

Yeah, we mistakingly went up there.
Credit: Mark

Going up Skeleton Gorge.

Cooling off at De Villiers Reservoir.

Cityscape on the descent.

The Slog to Cape Town

Only 9 hours of driving today. I could do this. Thanks to cooler weather and fresh rain, the whole family was in good spirits as we woke up early to get a head start for Cape Town. The first 30 minutes turned into 60 with washed out roads. We enjoyed this novelty of mom driving through the mini road ponds, patting ourselves on the back for having 4-wheel drive. As we turned onto the highway, I figured we could easily make up lost time. I know I've written ad nauseam about the amazing Namibian landscape so I will spare you the details other than it was neat and a little weird, and a progressively green as we made it to the border to South Africa. We needed get through customs and immigration, so we stood in line, diligently filling out the required paperwork behind a group of barefoot hipster men who seemed definitely too old to be running around without shoes.

Still, we were on schedule and in decent shape to continue so I sped on. Three hours in, I managed to give Mark heart burn, when I realized we might run out of gas. I didn't calculate our range incorrectly, I just overestimated the range indicator so I ended up driving the last 20 kilometers going no faster than 30mph (48kph), a painful experience for everyone on the road (even the semi trucks) as the posted speed limit was 75mph (120kph). After gassing up and a wait in line behind a one eyed nun at the town's only ATM, we all took deep breaths. 

3.5 more hours to go. We only had my various dried sundries in the car and Mark didn't want to stop, opting to hold out for Indian food in the city- so we trudged on despite our hunger. Now, Mark and I are fairly good with a map and he had already been to Cape Town, so we felt pretty confident we could find our rental near the Company's Garden. Then we saw a road block. And another, and another. Our early evening timing coincided with massive road closures due to Carnaval celebrations. "No" the police said, "we have no idea how long this will last, and no, you cannot pass through."

We had a car full of electronics, none of which would work in South Africa without wifi. We had four people who hadn't really eaten since 6:30am, and the anxiety of being in unfamiliar territory. Plus, we had luggage/spare tire strapped to the roof, so we didn't feel we could leave the car. And it was getting dark. My point: edges were frazzled and the city was becoming progressively festive (loud) which made for extremely unpleasant conditions. I'm surprised no one murdered me. 

Finally, with a partially charged work phone, we made back and forth calls to our host who somehow navigated us down secret streets and to their building.Thirty-five left hand turns up the parking ramp gave us our final stop. Seriously, I counted. It was the tallest, yet smallest parking structure I had ever driven. But we made it. Time to eat our weight in dal, drink some strong gin & tonics, and sleep.

The next morning we woke to our rowdy air conditioner and high winds beating down the windows. One glance at Table Mountain with the clouds pouring off the top and funicular visibly swaying told us our plans of hiking wouldn't be realized. Coming up with the next best solution that involved zero driving on our part meant taking the jump-on double decker tour bus. It was a means to an end, and we did get to spend our first day as zombies. We got off at a few stops such as the World of Birds Wildlife Sanctuary and Monkey Park (where we stepped in a lot of poop- birds) and the Aquarium (where we smelled a lot of poop- diapers), but by the afternoon both kids requested naps. We returned to the wind blasted apartment and fell asleep just long enough to wake up for a stroll through The Company's Garden, dinner, and bed.

Though the day was sunny and the gorgeous ocean reflected amazing hues of blue, it didn't help that the wind in the Cape was chilly and relentless. From the bus we watched people getting sand blasted on the beaches, trees bending and shedding, and tiny tornadoes rush through the streets as fast as the clouds moved overhead. Overall, our first day was leisurely and we had fun even if we enjoyed it through a windy, sleep deprived haze.  

Credit to Mark. Cozy Sheep in the morning light.
This might also be a reason why we took 12 hours instead of 9 to get to Cape Town.

 Credit to Mark. Wearing our warmest clothes.
Just outside Kirstenbosch Botanic Gardens.

No filter. 

Lunch with Bandit Girl at the Waterfront Market.