Friday 22nd November
At first light we ascend the steep and winding road to Sir Lowry's Pass, the gateway through the Hottentot's Holland mountain range to the west of Cape Town. We park up at The Pass and, full of enthusiasm, bound off up the track to the nearby summit. The weather has other ideas, however, and low cloud drifts on and off the hillside making a climb to the peaks a waste of time. Instead we follow the track along a contour and through stands of proteas, the low flowering shrubs characteristic of the region. The birding here is excellent, with endemic Victorin's Warblers singing right beside the track. This is supposed to be a tricky species to see, but rather than skulk they regularly hop out on bare branches to be filmed in full song.
Cape Sugarbirds display from the tallest protea flower heads, occasionally darting upwards to reveal their long streamer-like tails. Dazzling male Orange-bellied Sunbirds literally glow as they busily sip nectar and Cape Grassbirds skim over the lower grassy slopes.
It's still too misty to make an ascent, so we make our way back to the car park. A band of local tradesmen has now arrived and set out their displays of carvings and various tourist tat on the ground next to the car. In the time taken to haggle for a few select gifts we discover that the cloud has disappeared from the ridge and that the summit radio antennae are now pointing into a bright blue sky.
A swift about-turn finds us scaling the steep rocky outcrop high above the road. Underfoot, the fine grass and mosses are carpeted with a profusion of stunning alpine flowers and the light grey limestone pinnacles are potholed by intricate wind-eroded fissures. It's a wonderful place, with a superb panoramic view of the surrounding countryside. Eventually we locate a group of charismatic little Cape Rockjumpers after a rather protracted search amongst the peaks and gullies. Not particularly aptly named these stunning birds, with deep russets bellies and bold white moustaches, walk rather than jump over the rocks. As we trace our steps back we encounter a number of small flocks of Cape Siskins feeding amongst the outcrops. Another endemic of the mountain fynbos, these birds are much more distinctive than the illustration in the field guide suggests, displaying broad white tips to tail and primaries.
Back at the car park we are greeted by a very entertaining group of Chacma Baboons, which are obviously attracted to the area by the chance of a free meal. They pose obligingly for the camera, with tiny young riding mothers' backs in a most engaging manner. They may look very sweet and cuddly, but baboons are also very cunning and potentially vicious animals. MK opens the car boot to change films and a huge male spots a bag full of bananas from a good fifty feet away. The baboon breaks into a sprint towards the car, I shout, but before Martin realises what is happening the baboon rushes past him and plucks the bag from the car. There is a vicious struggle for the booty amongst the troop and seconds later they are chomping away on our bananas. Don't mess with a Chacma Baboon!
Excitement over and it's time to head east. We descend from the pass and find the valleys filled first with commercial pine forest and then huge commercial orchards. So this is where 'Sainsburys' procure their 'Cape Golden Delicious'! We descend further to the rolling coastal plain, where countless thousands of hectares of cereal fields stretch from the mountains right down to the sea. The next emergency stop is for one of the most eagerly anticipated birds of the trip; two Blue Cranes are feeding in a stubble field close to the road. There can be few birds so well proportioned and elegant as these. Delicate powder-blue, long-necked with subtle white crown and a train of wispy black tertials trailing from the rear, they stride on long legs with a supremely graceful gait. Absolutely stunning.
In 1931 there were only 17 Bontebok left in the world. They are magnificent animals; large boldly marked antelope with long spiral-wound horns. It was in this year that Bontebok National Park was created to prevent their extinction, by protecting nearly three thousand hectares of prime habitat. This isolated island of Coastal Renosterveld, set amongst a sea of wheatfields to the east of Swellendam, now supports around two hundred Bontebok, the optimum number for the land available.
We check in at the very well appointed visitor centre and set off on a loop of the reserve. The western section is set in what appears to be a huge crater, with steep banks sloping up from a vast flat plain of dense low Renosterveld shrubs. It's only a few minutes before we come across our first Bonteboks; if only all the birds were this easy to find, at their respective sites! Their contrasting browns, blacks and whites look superb against the backdrop of the crater walls and much film is expended. Interestingly they adopt their well-documented standing posture, with neck held drooping at forty-five degrees, facing into the wind.
As we continues around the loop-road we drop on some good birds, in the form of a group of three Olive Bush Shrikes feeding on the track and a Southern Boubou calling from the acacias. A walk around the campsite adds Pearl-breasted Swallow and the second half of the loop the very localised Agulhas Clapper Lark.
Mountain Zebras occur at just a handful of sites in Angola, Namibia and South Africa and Bontebok N. P. is one such area. The animals here belong to the smaller of the two subspecies, known as Cape Mountain Zebra, which is confined to South Africa and in 1980 numbering just one hundred and seventy animals. For large black-and-white mammals they certainly take some finding, but eventually we locate a group of three not far from the track. A little further on we spot a Grey Rhebok, a small pale-grey antelope with distinctive straight horns, amongst a group of Bontebok. Our visit to this excellent reserve is concluded with a Leopard Tortoise, which has some sort of death wish, walking along the access road.
Final locality for the day is the so-called 'Farmlands Loop', a dirt road that runs from Buffeljagsrivier south to the Breede River. This is essentially a bustard and lark quest, in an attempt to complete the set of both species. The dusty road winds through undulating cereal fields and patches of scrub, and we make regular stops to check likely looking larks. A pair of hunting Yellow Mongoose are very entertaining, but it's late in the day before we finally find a single Agulhas Long-billed Lark. This rather smart bird completes our clean up of no less than fifteen species of lark in the course of our tour and we congratulate ourselves on what has been quite a feat in just five days.
The crossing of the Breede River has to be seen to be believed. South Africa's last working pont consists of a flat boat just big enough to hold three cars. A steel cable is pulled tight across the river and the two black pont operators simply wrap chains around the cable, walk down the boat, and thereby pull it across the river by hand. It looks like absolutely backbreaking work and we notice that the operators have developed leg deformities from their struggles. If I am ever having a bad day at work I will cast a thought to these poor fellows. The price of the ten-minute crossing is fifteen Rand: that's one Pound in Sterling! Naturally we give them a very large tip.
When we reach the southern shore of the Breede River the sun has already sunk below the horizon and light is failing fast. The bustard quest looks doomed to end in failure, when we spot two huge shapes in a distant field. Some high speed driving around rough farm tracks brings us, in the nick of time, to an excellent pair of Stanley's Bustards. Although we have previously seen Denham's Bustard, of which Stanley's is currently classified as a subspecies, in Kenya way back in 1991 it has a good chance of promotion to full species level. We are therefore delighted with our eleventh-hour success and set off for the long dirt-road drive back to Swellendam.
A very smart Striped Mouse is the only nocturnal distraction and by mid evening we are in the attractive rural town of Swellendam. A friendly restauranteur directs us to a recommended guesthouse and, having seen the sumptuous menu, we vow to return. When we eventually find it the Purper Winde turns out to be, in our unbiased opinion, the best guesthouse in the whole of South Africa! Vases full of fresh flowers fill the exquisitely decorated room, a bottle of liqueur stands beside the bed and the bathroom sports a free-standing iron bath romantically surrounded by candles. Then I realise that I'm sharing the room with Martin and pledge to return one day with a companion of the opposite sex, in order to fully appreciate the sophistication and ambience of our surroundings!
Our superb host, Lizette Hendry, tells us that our chosen restaurant actually is known as one of the finest in South Africa and we set off back into town with mouths watering in anticipation. The gourmet critics are not wrong; The Old Mill certainly provides the best meal of the trip and one of my finest ever. Shark and king prawn in lime sauce, followed by banana pancake rolls and washed down with a fine South African Cabernet Sauvignon. Magnificent!
Saturday 23rd November
Liz bids us farewell before first light with the most amazing pack-up ever. The huge box is crammed with all manner of goodies, including quail's eggs! We head inland from Swellendam, climbing into the hills and also into the first and only rain of the trip. The vegetation here is lusher than any we have encountered in the country to date as we head first through farmland and then, climbing higher, patches of remnant forest. A brief stop at some roadside pools produces a fine male Greater Double-collared Sunbird and a brace of kingfishers at extremes of size: Giant and Malachite.
After the previous evening's late encounter with Stanley's Bustard we are delighted to see no less than ten birds en route to Grootvadersbosch Nature Reserve, including males in their stunning display posture turned to huge balls of white plumes. Our only Rameron Pigeons cause a halt in the proceedings, when we stop to admire a pair of these large, yellow-billed Columbas in a bare roadside tree.
It's just past 06.00 hours when we reach the entrance to Grootvadersbosch, a picturesque valley of broad-leaved woodland saved from cultivation. This is the one morning of forest birding in the entire trip and consequently we clock up a good selection of new birds, in the rapidly improving weather. Sombre Greenbul, Cape Batis, Blue-mantled Flycatcher and Olive Woodpecker are all ticks. Knysna Warbler has the reputation of being another real skulker. We find a likely looking spot, give the tape a whirl, and out pops a Knysna Warbler singing from a bare log. Bar-throated Apalis is next to fall, but we agree that star bird of the morning is probably the single male Swee Waxbill feeding close to the forest floor. This tiny endemic finch brightens the dull understorey with its shining red rump, grey head and neat black bib.
Right, we don't have a moment to waste. Next stop the coast! Well that's the plan but we can't resist a quick look at our 'kingfisher pools' again and this time we are rewarded with Little Rush Warbler. We zip back along the dusty Farmlands Loop, and similarly can't resist a Blue Crane photocall when a pair of these stunning birds appears right beside the track. As fascinating as the Cranes are elegant, hordes of Ostriches in roadside farms flock to their enclosure fences to investigate human visitors. If you've never had an inquisitive peck from a six-foot tall flightless bird then this encounter is a must!
Early afternoon sees us relentlessly marching back and forth though the knee-high fynbos of De Hoop Nature Reserve in an attempt to flush the most elusive of the Cape endemics, Hottentot Buttonquail. We soon decide that crappy flight-views of a small brown gamebird are not worthy of too much time and set off the short distance east to Potburg. Not far from the reserve gates we come across a Cape Grysbok grazing in a sheep enclosure, a very attractive little dark-brown antelope with a range limited to within South Africa's boundaries.
The De Hoop reserve covers a strip of lowland fynbos and coastal dunes east of Cape Agulhas. The eastern end of the reserve incorporates Potburg Mountain, upon whose southern cliffs nest the Western Cape's last breeding colony of Cape Vultures. We time our arrival to coincide with the bird's late afternoon return to their cliff-top roosts, having been out on foraging missions into the surrounding reserve during the day. Within minutes of our arrival at Potburg the first Cape Vultures glide over, bleached blonde body and underwing coverts contrasting with dark flight feathers and tail.
We discover that all this looking skywards can be quite productive and also see a small flock of African Black Swifts, a new bird for us, and a pair of Martial Eagles circling high in the sky. The remainder of our last evening in South Africa is spent around the eucalyptus woodland and scrub, where eventually we coax out one of the most skulking birds we have ever come across. After half an hour of rustling leaves and glimpses of small patches of plumage we get conclusive views of a Southern Tchagra.
The Sun sinks low and it's time to think about travelling in a Cape Town-wards direction.Flat tyre! All of the kit is rapidly ejected from the boot. Luckily we have both a jack and a tyre lever. It's actually a very smooth change; the McLaren pit would be proud of us! We drive down to the gate, ticking off a couple of very smart Scrub Hares en route. Someone has locked the park gates! A large sign, which we have somehow missed, tells us that the gate was locked half an hour ago. This is not good. We really don't want to spend the last night of the trip sleeping in the back of the car with no food. And we have a flight from Cape Town to catch tomorrow afternoon.
We drive round knocking on the doors of the houses in the ranger's compound but there's no one at home. We try a few other likely looking tracks but all lead to the same locked gate. Despondency is really starting to set in when we find some signs of life in one of the houses. Unfortunately the lady in question doesn't speak English, but we can follow her gesticulating to another property. We're in luck this time and an official-looking ranger greets us. We're more than happy to be out of his reserve, and drive off into the sunset.
Only another eagle owl scare, typically turning out to be yet another Spotted, interrupts our journey west to Caledon. We find a pleasant hotel where the cuisine would have been the best of the trip, had it not been for our Swellendam experience the previous evening, and enjoy our final Castle Beer for a year or two.
Sunday 24th November
The final early start for many a long month. We drive south to meet the coast at the small town of Hermanus. The sky is bright blue but there is a very strong westerly wind blowing. A crusty old seadog directs us to the main whale watching point, but warns us that the strong winds will affect our chances of seeing whales close inshore. He isn't wrong and we have to make do with a single Southern Right Whale blowing far out in the bay.
From Hermanus we follow the scenic coast road west to the small coastal hamlet of Rooi Els, where we take a side road down towards the sea. This is the point where the Hottentons Holland Mountains plunge precipitously into the turquoise blue sea. A dirt track follows a narrow, fynbos-covered, coastal plain between the steep hillside and the ocean. On the far side of False Bay the shape of Table Mountain is clearly visible; it's the perfect setting for the last few hours of real birding in South Africa.
We have only walked a hundred yards when a large, bright bird on a nearby telegraph pole stops us in our tracks. It's a dazzling male Cape Rock Thrush, in all it's blue-and-orange glory. Having given up all hope of getting a new bird on the last day this is amazing. More amazing still is the sight of the bird swooping down to the garden of a house below and collecting crumbs tossed from the window by an old lady! It is then joined by it's mate and a couple of young birds, just to complete the set. What a bird to have on your 'garden list'!
Continuing along the track we come across swathes of flowering proteas, attended by phenomenal numbers of stunning Orange-breasted Sunbirds and streamer-tailed Cape Sugarbirds. A group of Cape Siskins feed close by and higher up the slope a pair of Klippspringers eye us from a rocky promontory. It's criminal to leave such a wonderful spot but sadly we have an appointment with a Jumbo Jet.
The trek across the sprawling city of Cape Town and its never-ending suburbs is rather laborious, but there is one last site we cannot leave the country without visiting. In 1910 African Penguins (at that time known as Jackass Penguins) had a population of one-point-five million; by the end of the twentieth century only ten percent of this figure remained. Uncontrolled harvesting of the Penguin's eggs plus the scraping of their guano almost drove the species to extinction. The arrival of two pairs in the Boulders area, just south of Simon's Town on the Cape Peninsular, was therefore treated with great excitement back in 1982. The area, with its sheltered beaches and protection form natural predators, was obviously to the birds' liking as there are now around three thousand birds present. This dramatic increase is also due in part to the reduction in trawler fishing in False Bay, which has increased the supply of pilchards and anchovy, a principle part of the species' diet.
We have a fantastic hour viewing and photographing the birds from the newly constructed boardwalks at Foxy Beach, which take visitors right through an active African Penguin colony and to within inches of nesting birds. The penguins are so accustomed to visitors that they look totally unconcerned as a stream of tourists file past. On the beach hundreds of birds huddle together in groups, black backs contrasting with dazzling white sand. Many are young birds, their fluffy down being rapidly replaced by sleek, shiny adult feathers and leaving a moulted carpet of light grey down feathers littering corners of the beach. In the background small groups launch themselves into the blue surf. It's an absolute hive of activity, a small bustling town of dinner-suited inhabitants, and certainly a site not to be missed.
And that is it. Before we know it we're back at Cape Town Airport and another incredible journey is at an end. The last four weeks has taken us from the untouched, cold and starkly beautiful icy-wastes of the Antarctic packice to the sun-baked, haze-shimmering rocky vistas of the Kalahari Desert. From mountainous waves of freezer-chilled Southern Ocean saltwater to parched wind-hewn waves of brick-red sand at the Koa Dunes.
It really has been one-off, trip-of-a-lifetime and we board the plane with roll upon roll of diverse images covering everything from albatross to Aardvark and tortoise to pteradroma together with some of the most spectacular scenery and dramatic seascapes imaginable. Having sampled extremes of climate, scenery and social prosperity we leave South Africa with a host of new friends, a notebook full of new birds, and most of all a head full of unforgettable memories.
Ian Merrill January 2003