In the hope of witnessing the legendary west coast Spring flower carpets, Nancy Richards takes to the road.
Expect nothing and you wont be disappointed is the Buddhist maxim we took with us. Necessarily because the thing about the west coast flowers is you just never know if they’re going to show. Being weather dependent, and Cape Town’s weather being reliably unreliable. And the failure of Capetonians to get their act together.
If the success of the west coast flowers depended on the support of the locals, they’d be doomed to failure. A bit like Londoners who never go to see the Changing of the Guard and Nepalese who don’t climb Everest (unless they’re paid), Capetonians dont really go to see the flowers. They just take for granted that they’re there, doing their thing and bringing in the tourists.
True to type, it’s been years since I made the pilgrimage. Last time the weather was iffy – hoping it would improve, we went anyway. There was a smattering of kerbside colour, and a caracal – it may have been, hard to be sure, it was such a fleeting glimpse. More of a tail flick really. We ate joyless sandwiches on the beach and saw a shadow on the waves that may have been a whale. Or not.
This time the weather was still iffy, skies more milky than bright blue, rain predicted the following day. But we’d booked out the day, so we went. And expected nothing.
A hundred and twenty kms later we turn in to the gates of the West Coast National Park. There’s not exactly a queue, so we chat to the gatekeeper in SANPark khaki who tells us where the tea shop is. Geelbek, named after a yellowbilled duck and 10kms from the gate. It’s not so much of a tea shop as a full-on restaurant in a long and graciously gabled old thatched homestead, settled in its surroundings and with a colourful history that includes having one of the largest wine cellars in the country. Owner at the time (1920ish), govenor general Henry de Villiers Steytler was famous for his parties that sometimes lasted for weeks. I suppose if guests had come all this way, why wouldn’t they stay. Especially if the flowers were out.
Today massive eucalyptus trees housing nest developments of weavers hang over the garden tables, bright yellow residents tweeting and diving. There are mini gazebos, a discreet marquee in anticpation of weddings, a rock, shell and succulent walkway featuring a slave bell. It’s hard to imagine that anyone would have chosen to build and live in so remote a spot, even tempted by fresh water and granted land, but spare a thought for those poor slaves who would have had no choices.
At the adjoining visitors centre, where the car park notably sports GP number plates on 4×4’s, there’s an opportunity to think back even further. A cast copy of a human footprint said to have been made 117,000 years ago and attributed to a young woman, dubbed Eve, was found by geoscientist David Roberts at Kraalbaai in 1995.
All this information was added value, but really we were here for the flowers. A bonus then to spot a mandatory tortoise inching across the road – notices bearing their likeness urge you to ‘spare a thought’ for them too and please to stick to the 50km speed limit. But aside from the isolated yellow cluster amongst the endlessly uncompromising grey-green fynbos, we weren’t seeing so many flowers. Until we got to Postberg, the jewel at the far end of the park, open only in season, August and September. Making up for the paucity of sightings of else anything so far, soon after going through the gates, next to a stone edged waterhole was a small herd of eland. We stopped to drink in the sight. Stopped again to admire a pinkening of flamingoes ankle deep in water – and again to look at the distant bontebok, and again and again to follow the running ostriches – and another tortoise.
And then – there were the flowers. Driving into the sun, at first they’re all but invisible, only their dark undersides showing. But a look into the rear view mirror and – phew! Drifts of white ones like an avalanche spread across the veld, interrupted by streaks of orange like a stain. Blue ones and tiny pink heads organise themselves around rock crops in Persephone’s own flower arrangements. We stop at the topmost point of Postberg, climb a precarious rock and look down over a staggeringly turquoise lagoon studded with green islands. Langebaan, on permanent holiday so it seems, looks up and waves at us from the opposite shore. So the moral of a trip to see the spring flowers is, expect nothing and you may be richly rewarded.
This article by Nancy Richards first appeared in SUNDAY TIMES TRAVEL
NANCY RICHARDS 083 431 9986 nancyrichards@intekom.co.za
GETTING THERE
Take the R27 from Cape Town. The West Coast National Park is on the left soon after the Yzerfontein turn-off
PLAYING
There are four mountain bike routes and several hiking trails in the West Coast National Park including the 30km guided Eve’s Trail and in season only, a 2 day Postberg Trail. There’s also an E4N environmental experience
STAYING
SANPark accommodation in the Park includes cottages, houseboats and chalets
SPOTTING
If you get lucky in season you may see the proverbial carpets of flowers at Postberg. You may also see a range of boks, birds (there are lots of bird hides), dung beetles, snakes and tortoises.
