Open Writing

The journey from Matjiesfontein to Cape Town takes about three hours, driving through magically changing and contrasting countryside. The distance is 255 kilometres or 155 miles.

At first, the mountains were ethereal, distant and hazed by heat, shadows against the sky. As we drew closer they reminded me of mounds, points and jagged outcroppings of caramel and meringue swirled together but not mixed. Gradually, their soft-seeming textures, baked in the heat, became harsh and forbidding.

After winding over a pass and through a cutting in the mountains, we drove into the beautiful, 35 kilometre-long Hex River Valley. What a magnificent contrast between the barren, striated rock which soared into the harsh blue on either side and the verdant valley floor, fed by the Hex River. The valley is cultivated with vineyards which were in full summer foliage and dotted with lovely, white farm-houses. Each row of vines has a rose-bush or bright bougainvillea punctuating its end near the road, giving splashes of vivid colour.*

Unfortunately, several squatter camps, shanty towns or more correctly informal settlements, have mushroomed beside the main road, their squalor and pitiful inhabitants a testament to the government’s failure to improve the lives of its poorest citizens.

We drove from the lovely, narrow Hex River valley into the wider Breede River Valley, rimmed by tall, dark mountains. This valley floor, too, was filled with vineyards and orchards.
The road took us through the historical town of Worcester and on into the outskirts of Cape Town, where Table Mountain, hazy and surreal, rose to greet us, gracious and almost out of focus. In this most beautiful of all cities, Table Mountain, Lion’s Head, Signal Hill, the Twelve apostles and a huge chain of mountains dominate the horizon. No matter where one is, there are always mountain views to wonder at.

Opening the car doors at our lovely guest house, Paradiso Lodge** overlooking Constantia, we found ourselves trying to breathe in sauna-like air. In contrast, our rooms were cool, bright and beautifully appointed. We unpacked, changed into bathing costumes and sank with relief into the cool, blue swimming pool. While we floated lazily in the water, we gazed over creeper-grown walls at the mountain and soaked away the dust and heat of the morning’s drive.

In the late afternoon, when the intense heat had passed and the sun was sinking as lazily as we had floated in the pool, we returned to the car. Leon drove us through the suburbs, enjoying the ever-changing faces of the mountains. We found a pleasant shopping centre, where Glo bought some lighter-weight clothing and we stocked up with our favourite tipples. Then we drove through Fish Hoek and along the main road, following the coast-line. We finally found Kalk Bay, parked, and ambled down steps, through a tunnel beneath the railway and onto the beach where we found the famous Brass Bell Restaurant. It overlooks tidal pools and lovely False Bay where small fishing boats follow the bright gleam of a lighthouse into harbour and gulls wheel and squeal above.

The Brass Bell Restaurant has existed as such for the last 45 years, though it has been there somewhat longer. It began life in 1939 as the European Pavilion Tea Room, and is still decorated like a luxury railway dining car. In 1967 the premises became the Cabin Pub. Fourteen years later, in 1981, Tony White bought the pub, and the rest, apparently, is history: it became the Brass Bell, and is a popular Cape Town dining spot to this day, with Tony White still at the helm. Halfway down the lower ‘dining car’ hangs a beautiful brass ship’s bell from the ship, the Westpolder, dated 1929.

We thoroughly enjoyed our evening and the good food at the Brass Bell, leaving some time after ten o’clock, when we made our way back under the railway line and up the steps to the parking lot where we’d left our car against the fence, facing the sea. While we’d been relaxing, many other cars had joined the lot and we were parked in three deep and on all sides. Rising panic fluttered inside my comfortably-filled insides. It could be hours before the owners of the cars surrounding ours re-appeared and moved them. There were many restaurants and places of entertainment up and down Kalk Bay’s main road, we’d never find those drivers. When we’d parked there had been no sign of car guards or other officials, and valet parking is almost unheard of in South Africa. Where could we go for help, I wondered, and how long would it be before we finally liberated our car and returned to the guest house?

To be continued: and so, until next time, …’here comes Treble!’

*For further information about a beautiful destination in South Africa, visit: http://www.hexrivervalley.co.za/about.htm
**To view the Paradiso Guest Lodge’s website, and find comfortable and hospitable accommodation in Cape Town, go to: http://www.paradisobnb.co.za/

© Copyright Reserved by Isabel Bradley