tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11406841792059201892024-03-06T01:21:59.873+02:00Maps for AfrikaSo geographers, in Afrika maps,
with savage pictures fill their gaps;
and o’er uninhabitable downs
place elephants for want of towns.
—Jonathan SwiftDie Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.comBlogger66125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-31092065372090892722016-03-19T08:14:00.003+02:002016-03-19T08:14:46.851+02:00Competition closed<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Our Photo competition is now closed for further entries; we'll announce the winners in due course!</span>Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-84225172804375122712016-01-05T10:45:00.000+02:002016-03-19T08:13:36.934+02:00Enter our COVER COMPETION!<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We’re tired of our old map covers and we’re sure that somewhere out there someone has much better pics than we have.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We’re needing new cover pics this month for <b>TABLE MOUNTAIN XII</b> and for <b>OVERBERG WHALE COAST #7</b>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">If you have an iconic pic of the mountain – we’re looking for the trad view here – and you reckon your pic is absolutely great, please submit it [see below]. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">If you have a great pic of any part of the Overberg – a truly representative pic [the sea and the whales would be good, but you might have something else!] please submit.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Please don’t send a full-res jpg – a low res pic will do. Attach your pic to an email with all your details [Name, Address, and a line certifying that the pic is yours and no one else's] and send it <a href="mailto:peter@slingsby.capetown" target="_blank">HERE</a>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">If your pic is used on the map, you will receive:</span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">* Two copies of the new edition, as soon as it’s in print;</span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">* A package of ALL of Slingsby Maps books and prints that are currently in print: all the latest editions, too!</span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">* A full set of all our digital products as well.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">You will be fully acknowledged on the map as the author of the pic.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">By submitting your pic you agree that, if yours is chosen, Slingsby Maps may use it in print, digitally, and cropped if necessary and as we see fit, to match our page format, etc etc provided that you are acknowledged as the author.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">What’s more, we might award two prizes, because a pic on the back of the map never did any harm either!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Closing date: 19 Feb 2016, or sooner if the reprint is urgently needed!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Looking forward to hearing from you ....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Kaartman 2016</span>Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-50278320954362531822015-01-08T12:20:00.000+02:002015-01-08T12:20:03.937+02:00Smitswinkel 2015<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">O Smits ... o Smits ... another New Year, another dip into Paradise, another long, slow, sweaty climb out on a hot Tweede Nuwejaar afternoon.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The Smitswinkel limelight this years belongs to the seal. We called her Solly, thinking she was a boy-seal. She lay forlornly on a bed of rotting kelp, a mat of seaweed thrown up by the Christmas tidal surge, the Summer Solstice, the New Moon Spring high. Maybe she’d been thrown up by that too.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“She’s come ashore to die,” we intoned wisely. “Most animals,” the scientist said, “die through being eaten. Not many get the chance to die quietly by themselves.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Solly lay still for hours, a long, four metre slab of blue-grey blubber. When the tide went out she moved laboriously, painfully closer to the water. When it came back she humped herself slowly up the slippery kelp, away from the waves.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Exhausted,” we said. “Dying.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Dogs barked at her, were sent off by their owners. “Let her die in peace,” we intoned. “Get those mutts out of there.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A small boy in a bright red vest watched her for hours. He sang to her, he begged her to slip back into the cooling sea. He danced on the edge of the rocks. He was sweet. Then he picked up a stone, as small boys will. “I’ll shout if he throws it,” I said. “She’s dying.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He restrained himself. The scientist had to go home a day early. “I hope it will be quick,” he said. “Mercifully quick.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Then came the news. One of the dozen or more veterinarians who attend upon Smits every New Year had spoken.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“She’s a Southern elephant seal,” he said. “Washed far from home in the Antarctic ocean. But she’s OK. They come ashore every year to moult. December/ January. Takes two or three weeks. When she’s moulted she’ll go home.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I guess if you only changed your underwear once a year it would take you two or three weeks, too. I’d simply die.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The scores of vets are undoubtedly the reason why Smits annually presents more dogs than people. Only one of those in these pics is now pregnant, apparently, but there might be more we did not see.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And of course, there are a wonderful bunch of people, swimming, surfing, sailing, sandboarding, paddling, bucketing, spading .... this year a whole team of grown ups came down with full-size, real spades and tried to dig away the rotting kelp. It was a great diversion for all those New Years Day heads. It had absolutely no effect.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Smits, we love you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Happy 2015 to all, hope it is a really good one for all of you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">–Kaartman, January 2015</span>Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-75679935133949523202014-11-24T12:06:00.000+02:002014-11-24T12:06:26.264+02:00Weeding the Garden Route ...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">It was a bit of a shock to this Kaartman to realise the other day that his very first map of the Garden Route hit the streets in 1973 ... that’s more than 40 years ago, omg. He remembers personally flogging the map up and down the N2 from Mossel Bay to Storms River, to a variety of caravan parks and resorts, most of which don’t exist any more. The map retailed for 85 cents I kid you not, from which we scooped a grand 50c per copy. Ah, those were the days, I hear you sigh, when bread was 9c a loaf and petrol 8c a litre. Don’t get too excited. Qualified teachers earned R125 per month and top prize in the lottery was a huge R50 000. A US$ was 70c and a UK£ was R1.40 and I could go on and on but that would get boring.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Forty years on we have decided to enlarge and expand the seventh edition [due next year] and with that in mind Mrs K and I loaded up the Kaartcart and set off for Albertinia. We aimed to research the nearer Garden Route first (the GR technically starts at Heidelberg); next trip will be to the Far East of Cape St Francis et al.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Apart from the stunning natural beauty the first thing that struck us as we meandered around the Heidelberg hills was the startling number of cows. They came in waves; Jerseys, Frieslands, Herefords, Nguni, often blocking the roads and rolling their large limpid eyes at us. The second thing that struck us was the astonishing variety of wildlife. The instant you get off that awful N2 all kinds of birdies and beasties appear between the hedgerows, running across the fields, or sitting on telephone poles.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Clockwise from top left: <br />Camel, baby ostrich, Cape terrapin, giraffe, finch, pugnacious ant</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The faces tell their own story. Apart from the ‘game park’ creatures [their bonnox-fenced homes should really be called ‘zoos’ because so many of them are quite inappropriate for the area, like impala, springbok and giraffes] we saw more than a dozen kinds of antelope, four kinds of tortoise or terrapin, masses of birds including two wonderful secretary birds (now so rarely seen), and even a Cape fox. And if you like the big stuff like rhino and elephants and giraffe and buffalo, we found two places where public roads plunge straight through the parks via huge cattle grids, and entrance is effectively free ... see forthcoming map!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRs7Z_mZyCCS4BO_nvoqZ4oPLcAoi8JUAl0SzUw7mDNmwmdf4gdkMMuhbbtKt1kBfn0Jzkc-93QBQJPLMHFCA3WHcqGXbsrHIgaQio3esdwTIMfI2yNvYnHyNixe-id6_yRwssGICbwYY/s1600/3+gates+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRs7Z_mZyCCS4BO_nvoqZ4oPLcAoi8JUAl0SzUw7mDNmwmdf4gdkMMuhbbtKt1kBfn0Jzkc-93QBQJPLMHFCA3WHcqGXbsrHIgaQio3esdwTIMfI2yNvYnHyNixe-id6_yRwssGICbwYY/s1600/3+gates+1.jpg" height="640" width="566" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Statement gates ...</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Down to the coast we went, through the cutesy collapsing cottages of Vermaaklikheid where every living thing, even the shop keeper and her dog, was asleep at 4 in the afternoon. Along the coast towards Gouritzmond the roads are mostly pretty awful, but that’s not what got our goat. There’s an endless procession of private ‘estates’ that make sure there is no public access to the sea. Many of these don’t seem to have a dwelling on them, but they’ve all got huge gi-normous gateways with steel gates, spikes and barbs. What this says about their temporal owners is rather sad: each successively-larger gate says “This is MINE MINE MINE – so KEEP OUT – YOU can’t play in MY sandpit.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Almost worse are the landowners who have somehow contrived to erect giant gates across public roads – we found several of these. The signs say ‘private’ but the gates are not locked, and we wish more people would assert their right to use these roads. Those routes, too, will all be on the map.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivub8j68DrcnMhsKxPnzV2WiBqTSfMfERkCw8iJLdHMplGqZZ0qeXAj_BU50LDdW40VaEgBZNTi6X1Vb3qen8emWXEfR4GOtWsixjzdXCKyMcB86lWBqr727ptxzQNoFELZCLTq2t_Y1g/s1600/4+asshill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivub8j68DrcnMhsKxPnzV2WiBqTSfMfERkCw8iJLdHMplGqZZ0qeXAj_BU50LDdW40VaEgBZNTi6X1Vb3qen8emWXEfR4GOtWsixjzdXCKyMcB86lWBqr727ptxzQNoFELZCLTq2t_Y1g/s1600/4+asshill.jpg" height="314" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Ass-hill</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Later these ‘landowners’ were iconically summed up for us by a single donkey ...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But there is whimsy too. We giggled at the smallholding called ‘Dumbie Dykes’ [or maybe we boggled]; we loved the farm that has been renamed from ‘Vergenoeg’ to ‘The Far Side’. Lots of signs made us chuckle, and many small bright gardens made us smile.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh31AZDCb2JVolODXxJ3kUf-nfWlPbKUSrwUh39ODxeoW_436jlBe7NvF5gQUCSuWx4vcAqfEtWsYFNdprDPKYaHbRLCO3lM0OzjnfsT0hLPTkDhrKxVlQzn7evXnwksd2WHyOhJYDfiNY/s1600/5+whimsy1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh31AZDCb2JVolODXxJ3kUf-nfWlPbKUSrwUh39ODxeoW_436jlBe7NvF5gQUCSuWx4vcAqfEtWsYFNdprDPKYaHbRLCO3lM0OzjnfsT0hLPTkDhrKxVlQzn7evXnwksd2WHyOhJYDfiNY/s1600/5+whimsy1.jpg" height="640" width="566" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Clockwise from top left: <br />Vermaaklikheid shop sign; Office Inqueries [Glory be!]; camouflaged dikdiks;<br />a pretty garden all in rows; Pinnochio in the hardeduine; seagulls behaving badly</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Ruins, there are, too. Many. We call them ‘hopes and dreams’, for that’s what they once were. Poignant, a reminder for those paranoid landowners of our short tenure on this Earth.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_py2Y1FrI2WkXpAlHPRJmFP_BD8Kfc3o9LF2lvmyr7e0_1L6XE0cmymvLarovagxephUV5YdM-6WOK5RmfOQS-E9sAVwfMkuQJXJ-B2vpBUr3-ZZJ8T1HHoNO8Sz98BbH5emGnJ3qNJI/s1600/6+hopes+n+dreams.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_py2Y1FrI2WkXpAlHPRJmFP_BD8Kfc3o9LF2lvmyr7e0_1L6XE0cmymvLarovagxephUV5YdM-6WOK5RmfOQS-E9sAVwfMkuQJXJ-B2vpBUr3-ZZJ8T1HHoNO8Sz98BbH5emGnJ3qNJI/s1600/6+hopes+n+dreams.jpg" height="260" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We stayed at four different places on our trip, all of them very pleasant surprises, and all of them highly recommendable. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We started at Honeywood, just outside the Grootvadersbosch reserve [CapeNature don’t take bookings for Sunday nights]. It’s a bit of paradise, with the forest on your doorstep and views of the Langeberg marching away in both directions that cannot be beat. John Moodie will also sell you a bottle of his gorgeous home grown, ratel-friendly honey.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCmlXyR-ozZsQFO8uAydsqLlGSTkco0DfbFZ1mq400Br01oFBwdS58w5y-VB2XJuNVPyllGHll3gRdm0ErRv86GuBpD4_jD97Osw6WKZAI-pWRCQv_5hTNo8sgfiuuejpGOTATLHHcKGQ/s1600/a+honeywood.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCmlXyR-ozZsQFO8uAydsqLlGSTkco0DfbFZ1mq400Br01oFBwdS58w5y-VB2XJuNVPyllGHll3gRdm0ErRv86GuBpD4_jD97Osw6WKZAI-pWRCQv_5hTNo8sgfiuuejpGOTATLHHcKGQ/s1600/a+honeywood.JPG" height="240" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Honeywood: <a href="http://www.honeywoodfarm.co.za/">http://www.honeywoodfarm.co.za/</a> – phone +27 83 270 4035</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Our wanderings took us next to the Wild Olive Guest Farm on the Goukou River, upstream from Stilbaai, and another top-notch stay where Karen will sell you a delicious loaf of home-baked bread, a salad and the tastiest free-range eggs you can imagine.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvdr8URWddfhNRelwPJkakYp8baN075QGa-qRnDQBG7Ziz6iuYACiq5DbPbc4Wta6_0wo8jjIkP93-S-wyBTPpPlZWrXHClxTSAg8QCQSxpVdm1XyjIC1yi4wMUwMOLsh7Iia_p99NYNI/s1600/b+wild+olive.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvdr8URWddfhNRelwPJkakYp8baN075QGa-qRnDQBG7Ziz6iuYACiq5DbPbc4Wta6_0wo8jjIkP93-S-wyBTPpPlZWrXHClxTSAg8QCQSxpVdm1XyjIC1yi4wMUwMOLsh7Iia_p99NYNI/s1600/b+wild+olive.JPG" height="240" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Wild Olive: <a href="http://www.wildoliveguestfarm.co.za/">http://www.wildoliveguestfarm.co.za/</a> – phone +27 28 754 2719</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Then it was on to Vleesbaai. We had wanted Gouritzmond but everywhere there seems to demand a minimum of three nights. The approach to Vleesbaai is daunting. The whole joint is gated and ringed with an electric fence. They must have serious security concerns ... or just hectic paranoia, as we remembered that donkey again. We drove up the hill and there was the sign for our cottage – ‘Helsewinde’ [Hell’s winds!]. Utterly charming, not ringed by steel armour, with an absolutely fabulous view far away from the hideous hot-wired hamlet. And as it turned out, very little wind. Caroline opened up for us, it’s her personal special plekkie and she’s justifiably a little anxious about strangers, but it was an excellent stay.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH-tB97-_ay-dUbjRpWdfD_h50qzjeFLismd0LKE8cp6WeD2CqQKD1APTwb0SkrktD2gtgl5Xih4OFcGyZXlH0D16o2kPIpuPQmQLMUbPRhSnmsN3Fb4aJphfE1tlqEA0hhjAIRlCJwS8/s1600/c+helsewinde.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH-tB97-_ay-dUbjRpWdfD_h50qzjeFLismd0LKE8cp6WeD2CqQKD1APTwb0SkrktD2gtgl5Xih4OFcGyZXlH0D16o2kPIpuPQmQLMUbPRhSnmsN3Fb4aJphfE1tlqEA0hhjAIRlCJwS8/s1600/c+helsewinde.JPG" height="240" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Helsewinde: <a href="http://www.lekkeslaap.co.za/akkommodasie/helsewinde">http://www.lekkeslaap.co.za/akkommodasie/helsewinde</a> <br />– phone +27 83 225 4473</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Homeward bound we stopped at Zoutpan, off the N2 near Albertinia. It’s a way-stop for sure, but a very comfortable one that provided a great supper and a fantastic breakfast for weary travellers who by then had accumulated near 1700 km of mostly dirt roads ... thanks, Amanda!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga5EhMvHgIbJS-IElWuEB3n7BNTAl74z3a11MflNzIySehEYNcZhI31wDM00M-1sQPOCXdYaol3pWWj9ZqhMTxndSYUgKdo9-xzFVHoHbF8_OzciyJpNpTSVItARkLJvP2CgvPk08eNgE/s1600/d+zoutpan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga5EhMvHgIbJS-IElWuEB3n7BNTAl74z3a11MflNzIySehEYNcZhI31wDM00M-1sQPOCXdYaol3pWWj9ZqhMTxndSYUgKdo9-xzFVHoHbF8_OzciyJpNpTSVItARkLJvP2CgvPk08eNgE/s1600/d+zoutpan.jpg" height="154" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Zoutpan Struishuis: <a href="http://www.zoutpan.com/">http://www.zoutpan.com/</a> – phone +27 28 735 1119</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Next time it’s beyond the Tzitzikamma ...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kaartman, Nov 2014</span>Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-15042565354437250722014-11-15T09:09:00.000+02:002014-11-15T09:09:13.987+02:00Ruby<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Ruby had attitude ...</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI_QEPaQbHJTZUygjcxueZb8wtBhf_9LGXP0JoVWWm0qUmpkzFpCoeEC2woh_QVHm-1tsgEO5WPPz9BoBA2FcK-wNI1JxxvfmAj2KjvPzFmf17vCL_Whg420r0ga1MdnsEZjzkGv73WiQ/s1600/ruby+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI_QEPaQbHJTZUygjcxueZb8wtBhf_9LGXP0JoVWWm0qUmpkzFpCoeEC2woh_QVHm-1tsgEO5WPPz9BoBA2FcK-wNI1JxxvfmAj2KjvPzFmf17vCL_Whg420r0ga1MdnsEZjzkGv73WiQ/s1600/ruby+5.jpg" height="640" width="568" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She did not like being told what to do ...</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnG7R7YC9B4hpRXZF5EYOAPic0nzxzAL-PDAcQEugyXtPJwzgqjFyUviFfcrvLpcv-_ZQwzndmazvPn9EllvWNowgJAe4jfDdYOw3D8PWhDEcNCKWBXwhwm_OMgD2sBVdbGPdFDRYK2RM/s1600/ruby+01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnG7R7YC9B4hpRXZF5EYOAPic0nzxzAL-PDAcQEugyXtPJwzgqjFyUviFfcrvLpcv-_ZQwzndmazvPn9EllvWNowgJAe4jfDdYOw3D8PWhDEcNCKWBXwhwm_OMgD2sBVdbGPdFDRYK2RM/s1600/ruby+01.jpg" height="640" width="568" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">and I confess ...</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ_bv0fuvSxjp0xt38MGvSARWYKAxVZ6OtXH3v6RPShtVhHkPV1quC4gbpXRXB6IsEVKRiX1VZFQPoyzpK6aSFrczraGcuC2x0yDjKXvHmaEeijSeAPvcREet43Ef6voD-vNonNtjxXGY/s1600/ruby+02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ_bv0fuvSxjp0xt38MGvSARWYKAxVZ6OtXH3v6RPShtVhHkPV1quC4gbpXRXB6IsEVKRiX1VZFQPoyzpK6aSFrczraGcuC2x0yDjKXvHmaEeijSeAPvcREet43Ef6voD-vNonNtjxXGY/s1600/ruby+02.jpg" height="640" width="568" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">that when Ruby died</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLbc5tg6FjkdpVPZJOg_ABGU9bFtYSZwQcQyAq-FPd6tYKWpS-4ISr8dZ7H93AqDs8C3CvQMoBceiLVoHA2-mBlkC9_Kb97XXHSyHAWc1kV0f7rJ0mTlt9OK0-FYGZUnjazJpzKS9FNOA/s1600/ruby+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLbc5tg6FjkdpVPZJOg_ABGU9bFtYSZwQcQyAq-FPd6tYKWpS-4ISr8dZ7H93AqDs8C3CvQMoBceiLVoHA2-mBlkC9_Kb97XXHSyHAWc1kV0f7rJ0mTlt9OK0-FYGZUnjazJpzKS9FNOA/s1600/ruby+3.jpg" height="640" width="568" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I cried.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kaartman, October 2014</span>Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-91508231307334303162014-10-06T11:25:00.002+02:002014-10-06T11:25:25.909+02:00Paper Nautilus shells<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Mrs Kaartman and I try to walk the dogs every morning on Muizenberg beach. Normally it is the most delightful place for an early-morning walk. It’s wide and flat with good solid sand – none of your desert trudging – with beautiful, opalescent early morning light across the bay, distant mountains dark against the dawn sky. The air is often like chilled champagne, too, and there are all sorts of interesting things to see. We’ve had a dead whale, zillions of washed up blue-bottles, live and dead seals, trek-fishermen heading out in their brave little boats and then heaving their groaning nets out of the water, once a body (sad!) and even once a small shipwreck ... every day is different. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisRqwjffBmJ28XNr32ml5XJp2CoRp5ixF6pcme41NThZYlGzlGyQR3VIbeXCgpBdOY3WuA64EA0B9GODNrCk_YWI1Wta2Di0y7rrSUdNOozql-xrYuZJkahoP3urOSTiTnhb25Fj4xHV0/s1600/fishermen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisRqwjffBmJ28XNr32ml5XJp2CoRp5ixF6pcme41NThZYlGzlGyQR3VIbeXCgpBdOY3WuA64EA0B9GODNrCk_YWI1Wta2Di0y7rrSUdNOozql-xrYuZJkahoP3urOSTiTnhb25Fj4xHV0/s1600/fishermen.jpg" height="392" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A few months ago we arrived at the beach down our usual little track through the dunes, to see that most of False Bay was covered in mist. As we stepped onto the beach, far away there appeared out of the mist a ghostly galleon, a fully-rigged sailing ship! It was rather a wonderful if spooky experience, until we remembered that the Chilean Navy had a training ship visiting Simon’s Town.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And in the right season we occasionally find paper nautilus shells.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Then of course there are the dogs, walking their masters and mistresses. Old Man used to be known as Grumpy Old Man, but we shortened his name to be polite. He specialises in very hairy German Shepherds, and they can’t even raise a paw without him shouting at them in a most grumpy manner, up and down the beach. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Man in Hat is walked by an indifferent Jack Russell. He was extraordinarily unfriendly for many a year, refusing to return our greetings as he strolled manfully past with his Jack R. trotting ahead, but, after six or seven years of careful evaluation he’s decided we’re OK after all, because now he actually sort of semi-tips his hat. We discovered recently that he’s Scots, which might explain a lot. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>On Friday mornings we have to be careful to avoid the Chattering Ladies. Some time ago they appeared without warning on our Friday morning beach, a vast mob of women all towing without exception either a Yorkie in a pink bow or one of those ancient, overweight black Labradors with a grey muzzle and a bad smell. They all talk at the tops of their voices, none listening to any other, a shattering experience. Fortunately the number of Chattering Ladies has rapidly whittled away and now there are only four or five of them who brave the sands. However, they still make as much noise as they did when there were 25 of them, and their black labbies still smell.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Then there’s Ramrod, a most straight-backed lady who has become quite friendly. Her mutt is extraordinary – extremely shaggy fur, the pile of which lies forwards in the front half and backwards aft. This gives it the general air of a dog stitched together from two halves of different dogs, so we call it Double Dog. This resulted in “Ramrod and Double Dog”, a phrase so poetically perfect that we wish we could use it for the title of a book.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Mighty Finn jogs actively up and down the beach with a very large indeterminate mutt in tow, prior to her leaping into the pounding surf no matter what the weather. She’s quite friendly and she is so called because during the school holidays she appears accompanied by a small tribe of grandchildren who, in the best Scandinavian tradition, remove all their clothing the instant they arrive on the beach, and then disport themselves pinkly in the freezing waves, with blithe disregard for the hoards of Great White sharks that are frolicking in the water behind them. Final proof of their nationality was provided by the appearance one day of their mother, walked by one of those awful dogs with luminescent blue eyes and the shape of a Siberian wolf. From Finland, I am certain. It gazed icily and hungrily at our pounder, and Kaartman Dog #1 clearly thought so too as she leapt into our arms.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And then there’s Mr and Mrs Underinova. Unlike Man in Hat the Underinovas have still not, after seven or eight years, acknowledged that we even exist, even though we pass them almost every day. Resolutely staring ahead to the distant misty cliffs of Strandfontein, they stride past with nary a flicker of their collective eyeballs. So named because come rain, ice or snow he’s always underdressed in shorts, barefoot in open short-sleeved shirt; come baking sun and searing berg winds she’s always overdressed in scarves and shawls and woolly jackets. Woolly long-johns too, for all we know. But that’s not the main thing about the Underinovas.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We compete with them to find paper nautilus shells.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We only discovered this earlier this year, during the nautilus shell season, which the books all tell you is in March – untrue! untrue! We spotted Mrs U walking ahead of us, weaving along the tide line. She stooped several times to pick something up. Near the main beach parking lot she went up into the low dunes and pushed something under the low vegetation. She wandered off up the beach and we sneaked a look. Three rare nautilus shells.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We were tempted to pinch them, weren’t we? But then we spotted the holes. They all had holes. Nautilus shells on the tide-wrack line always have holes, because the sea-gulls peck ’em. That’s why we have a collection of absolutely perfect shells. Because we only pick them up when they are left, wet and shiny, by a receding wave. Before the gulls get there.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We’ve never shared this important info with the Underinovas, and I guess we never will. Not at least until they say ‘Good Morning’. Or even a blink, hey, just a blink would be great!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I wonder what names all these happy walkers have for us.</span>Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-55796775174719588242014-09-03T19:16:00.000+02:002014-09-03T19:16:46.151+02:00Bouldering for Columbine<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCJCKt6tSp5XLzg_b_FsTHq5mJXci1AD_23vEXQSBFnZyKRVjeylwECC7wVLkNwldcxUrk5WBR7KvBe7mphd8XoLMuBprIaE5j75ytRF94iqYFt2B7kQ7ZnNieO9dppPjfxbC7peMd-Yg/s1600/0+0+paternosterview.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCJCKt6tSp5XLzg_b_FsTHq5mJXci1AD_23vEXQSBFnZyKRVjeylwECC7wVLkNwldcxUrk5WBR7KvBe7mphd8XoLMuBprIaE5j75ytRF94iqYFt2B7kQ7ZnNieO9dppPjfxbC7peMd-Yg/s1600/0+0+paternosterview.jpg" height="198" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Paternoster: view from Cape Columbine lighthouse</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This blog is specially for Tim and Jane, who ought to pack their children and go there without delay. It's about a special place, one of those rarities that lots of people know about, but few have actually discovered how to get to stay there. I'm talking about the lighthouse houses at Cape Columbine, the westernmost promontory of the Saldanha peninsula. It's a place that used to be pranged into by lots of unwary mariners before the lighthouse was built in 1936. 'Why so late?' many of them might have asked, but they asked too late. The <i>Columbine</i> was one of them, an early casualty [1829] of the mass of semi-submerged granite boulders that lie treacherously below the surface of the chilly Atlantic, each lying in wait for godknowshowlong to snag a ship. One of those was – ahem – hardly a ship, but a small clinker fishing boat owned by Willem Tities [pronounced, of course, 'taai-tees']. Willem did not survive the encounter, but his name is enshrined at Titiesbaai. The really sad thing is that most Engelsemense pronounce it 'Titty's Bay' – they would, wouldn't they – and fondly imagine that it's named after the voluptuously carved, sculpted and curved granite boulders that adorn the seascape, each lying in wait for godknowshowlong etc etc. I bet old Willem would've had a long throaty chuckle about that. Skande!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCBMPK-eLLKuzi2IPMkdS9EouokbSb1doZLt6yTKcFWc7GhxjcN-1YEtFX0tLUM4o0T3UwCCD-0F-gelN1DaE07MAn-a8wQ9GxeiGwRcG8xaiIX9hDtJvbtY25jUZjUKc70g4vMr3Wokg/s1600/0+3+tumbleweed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCBMPK-eLLKuzi2IPMkdS9EouokbSb1doZLt6yTKcFWc7GhxjcN-1YEtFX0tLUM4o0T3UwCCD-0F-gelN1DaE07MAn-a8wQ9GxeiGwRcG8xaiIX9hDtJvbtY25jUZjUKc70g4vMr3Wokg/s1600/0+3+tumbleweed.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Tumbleweed Cottage</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We chose Tumbleweed Cottage, and the view inland is deliberate, to hide for one more moment the fantastic view that you will have from your stoep, night and day ...</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAqMW3bXGZSl5l3L8uWWz1aiNTgxCwY3t-_QxyVNdqTZ1mTr1l_3xp8xClfvSuaOHlk1RIdXio9sh6TpmF_pSrkBF6KQn8Z1-rJ6qPHcbjrgWI41bGhtCoSZouKn3WBCX05vyli0ROWlM/s1600/0+1+lighthouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAqMW3bXGZSl5l3L8uWWz1aiNTgxCwY3t-_QxyVNdqTZ1mTr1l_3xp8xClfvSuaOHlk1RIdXio9sh6TpmF_pSrkBF6KQn8Z1-rJ6qPHcbjrgWI41bGhtCoSZouKn3WBCX05vyli0ROWlM/s1600/0+1+lighthouse.jpg" height="474" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The lighthouse is so close that you are constantly under its benevolent spell [but don't worry, they've thought of that and the cottage curtains are thick enough to hide completely the beams that are visible for many miles out to sea].</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRYO7HOb99QJAqWzIXeagpavZAM_febw8Bkx6NNvx9q0k33ECtP4ZcO1x5WSKwlqgoy3Mxj7CY5lbenUfRViDdoQ16SmBkXO8PVYvVJIYnU-xSq6gn__erLx0_zjMouQ9hSSu-_-sQt5o/s1600/0+2+light.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRYO7HOb99QJAqWzIXeagpavZAM_febw8Bkx6NNvx9q0k33ECtP4ZcO1x5WSKwlqgoy3Mxj7CY5lbenUfRViDdoQ16SmBkXO8PVYvVJIYnU-xSq6gn__erLx0_zjMouQ9hSSu-_-sQt5o/s1600/0+2+light.jpg" height="342" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This close ...</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">If you're wise you'll choose some days in August to November, when the flowers are at their best. The rest of this post is a sort of photo-essay but ... I nearly forgot. There are three self-catering cottages, magnificently equipped with everything you can think of except ice-trays [but there are ice buckets, go figure], lekker beds, fireplaces, outside chairs n braais n stoeps n n n ... even Japie, a genuine lighthouse keeper, a very appropriately very tall - and pleasant - man. Try to book online through</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #ddf7d1; color: #585858; line-height: 21px;"><a href="http://www.transnetnationalportsauthority.net/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> www.transnetnationalportsauthority.net</span></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">... it ain't easy, but eventually you'll end up with the ever-helpful Tasneem, who will guide you through.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">flower fields and granite boulders ...</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK6bhFmN7MRI9ezi78VpLuwU-deZ-SU3Zj4S7fSYfnkSrA67bEnyiV7sdmn56uy3_0jjRCOfB0n5kriPDSgXNB-zBSWUHl6Vvl6rbQ-EWjdxwBNCyyTfehjjMz7hTP4shsbSX4AfW7CAY/s1600/0+5+flowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK6bhFmN7MRI9ezi78VpLuwU-deZ-SU3Zj4S7fSYfnkSrA67bEnyiV7sdmn56uy3_0jjRCOfB0n5kriPDSgXNB-zBSWUHl6Vvl6rbQ-EWjdxwBNCyyTfehjjMz7hTP4shsbSX4AfW7CAY/s1600/0+5+flowers.jpg" height="640" width="398" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Clockwise from top left ...<br /><i>Sour fig; Romulea; Ferraria; Madeliefies; Vygies;<br />Bokbaaivygies: Pelargonium; Piet snot</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBV_QgR4TmSbYaIRpJ27pFoFFbiT7qSdsC7FpTyz2tt9x7AKcBHMhSK_PidUEv14u1qCwnR1U2FUhanzKljZrxbUElBObmnPidjh8kl8BibZmH74s5Us6HbMyFEANQWYvXLrIlGL2eVyI/s1600/0+6+boats.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBV_QgR4TmSbYaIRpJ27pFoFFbiT7qSdsC7FpTyz2tt9x7AKcBHMhSK_PidUEv14u1qCwnR1U2FUhanzKljZrxbUElBObmnPidjh8kl8BibZmH74s5Us6HbMyFEANQWYvXLrIlGL2eVyI/s1600/0+6+boats.jpg" height="234" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Bigger boats and smelly little boats ...</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia-VZgpve1bG_b4W8LB-oiKaii8eH8jT6MAR3WjGQOTFMs1KkJb8GXepQlltE7CnY03IB4VM6RVGmMCfHhPax5C9bJX5dj0LlOIVJS53R82WS2r3xwfzgz8tD4qWMec3Oj6GlIhGvVVvg/s1600/0+7+b+and+bs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia-VZgpve1bG_b4W8LB-oiKaii8eH8jT6MAR3WjGQOTFMs1KkJb8GXepQlltE7CnY03IB4VM6RVGmMCfHhPax5C9bJX5dj0LlOIVJS53R82WS2r3xwfzgz8tD4qWMec3Oj6GlIhGvVVvg/s1600/0+7+b+and+bs.jpg" height="266" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Birdies [rock kestrel] and beasties [fur seals]</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuomjYN7PooXoDkytbPyYqzfy5CNyB6fDxZjg44CULfTs25ISFK7hiiB-lT_-bwQQwUcSH6_6PqOV9OKxokEfxi-y_JcZsPRzpyq_IkImEwN6Meq-CGXA3GbZMmDBNYH9wjgYJYbmapsQ/s1600/0+8+tietiesbaai.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuomjYN7PooXoDkytbPyYqzfy5CNyB6fDxZjg44CULfTs25ISFK7hiiB-lT_-bwQQwUcSH6_6PqOV9OKxokEfxi-y_JcZsPRzpyq_IkImEwN6Meq-CGXA3GbZMmDBNYH9wjgYJYbmapsQ/s1600/0+8+tietiesbaai.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">and of course, Titiesbaai ...</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Enjoy it, hay.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">- Kaartman, Spring 2014</span>Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-35196905697136098632014-08-03T08:30:00.002+02:002014-08-04T08:25:16.681+02:00Cape Point #4<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh5jHToPKQRtL3v4BVU3h4xWraFzwZbE8eqV3uK_LuXLf8g57ZNnc1OXdBuJL1ZrVrLhUD3Meyx_pbRbRGNBgcMgpoWffv5D_Bta9KLnflV1TMaPEDXFv8x2uxDTZChQxTwJtflwR_nAo/s1600/0+0+add+to+photos1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh5jHToPKQRtL3v4BVU3h4xWraFzwZbE8eqV3uK_LuXLf8g57ZNnc1OXdBuJL1ZrVrLhUD3Meyx_pbRbRGNBgcMgpoWffv5D_Bta9KLnflV1TMaPEDXFv8x2uxDTZChQxTwJtflwR_nAo/s1600/0+0+add+to+photos1.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Back in December 2002 we produced our first-ever map of Cape Point. We were hung up on an A2 format in those days, and the only way we could squeeze the old Cape Point Nature Reserve onto the sheet was to draw it to a smaller scale than the rest of the Table Mountain series. You could not stick all the maps together without the Point looking a bit silly. But at last that’s overcome, and the all-new spiffy A1-sized Cape Point (that goes up north all the way to Kalk Bay, by the way) glues seamlessly onto Silvermine and Table Mountain.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsj1dAPDeITto_PdQxozg1jycfFGHm2PsIA68i4YyJZBONM3Aw_6Vx_egHyE2JpYyDwc3QBxr8-vhpTQYYfOoijbbNKSfN1eK5TJX-TgtO94zbBUWT49NlDHMNr4304qsyIrHTf7h44RM/s1600/0+0+cape+point+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsj1dAPDeITto_PdQxozg1jycfFGHm2PsIA68i4YyJZBONM3Aw_6Vx_egHyE2JpYyDwc3QBxr8-vhpTQYYfOoijbbNKSfN1eK5TJX-TgtO94zbBUWT49NlDHMNr4304qsyIrHTf7h44RM/s1600/0+0+cape+point+1.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>That’s not all ... scroll down to the end of this post to find out how you can snaffle this full colour waterproof map for 20% off the retail price ... for the month of August only!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Even that’s not all ... thanks to the SA Navy Hydrographer’s Office we also have off-shore info on the new map – the underwater contours, the sunken ship wrecks, treacherous reefs and Foul Ground. We’ve not neglected the landward side, either – all the paths are fully revised, and thanks to Chad Cheney of SanParks we have the latest Park boundaries. Even Roodeberg, the very latest acquisition is there. Chris Berens gave us some great relief shading, and all this with contours at 5m intervals make this the finest waterproof hiking map of the area ever produced.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVsSuC6mij6x7MRMbnjmUphSC3fqDgklnSU8P9-LszbVSF3EIvG5Q2cyOsgfBz7OhhN3BP9BuTVA10CehKM22tH96yHqEIPmaunhwzYGTcSJQmhCq0fe2XQnOr71j5w5LvjQEWgV6v3aI/s1600/0+0+directions.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVsSuC6mij6x7MRMbnjmUphSC3fqDgklnSU8P9-LszbVSF3EIvG5Q2cyOsgfBz7OhhN3BP9BuTVA10CehKM22tH96yHqEIPmaunhwzYGTcSJQmhCq0fe2XQnOr71j5w5LvjQEWgV6v3aI/s1600/0+0+directions.jpg" height="516" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And if you’re a foreigner, there’s even a topograph to show you how far away from home you are ...</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjii0AbIEzN1ztgXQr2SwKspzck34tzHw8nnk3BmwcM01pXxpzNxc1alPDixzgZwwIlvSnFbrXhhWMFyaSnZfIDqGvCE1Rm5yFwTQHFr4_VusvfvJl5NuXkfQnSjfkH0qp5exQUCH9oA_A/s1600/0+0+redhillruins.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjii0AbIEzN1ztgXQr2SwKspzck34tzHw8nnk3BmwcM01pXxpzNxc1alPDixzgZwwIlvSnFbrXhhWMFyaSnZfIDqGvCE1Rm5yFwTQHFr4_VusvfvJl5NuXkfQnSjfkH0qp5exQUCH9oA_A/s1600/0+0+redhillruins.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The map includes the magnificent Red Hill / Kleinplaas area, of course, as well as the whole of Simon’s Town. Many hikers in this area will have been intrigued by the sad ruins of many little houses in the Brooklands area. Read all about the horrible events of the 1960s at <a href="http://groundup.org.za/article/redhills-ruins-cape-towns-forgotten-district-six_2043">http://groundup.org.za/article/redhills-ruins-cape-towns-forgotten-district-six_2043</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Now to the nitty gritty. Go to <a href="http://www.slingsbymaps.com/tmnp.aspx">http://www.slingsbymaps.com/tmnp.aspx</a> . Choose the Cape Point map and click on ‘Add to Cart’. Go through the log-in procedure with MonsterPay – if the OTP they promise does not arrive in your email inbox, check your junk mail box too [their message sometimes gets diverted by your system]. When you’ve moved on to the page after you’ve put in your address – the page is headed ‘SHIPPING, etc etc ...’ – you’ll see a little panel marked </span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">‘Do you have a gift certificate or promotional code?’</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"> </span>Enter this code in the space provided – make sure you type it correctly, with spaces: </span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Cape Point 4</b></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> . You’ll be invited to click on </span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">‘Redeem Gift Certificate’</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">. Now you’ll notice that your final bill includes a 20% discount labelled </span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">‘Launch Coupon’</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> ... and there you are – we’ll post you your 20% off map as soon as we receive your order. Offer valid, as they say, for the month of August 2014 only ...</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNIWxdXiCoPGQnc75NstHbJQ0YcnoWAI8X79QuCTHfDN1qe2sBvbrB-qVtnBBEoT-EaeNnzEPG9JPd6b3lHFz0fEAcZTzubQc4DQY9oi5q7xvALf6DfF_aRaUzdbtmk0zSPy-B8pvdQns/s1600/0+0+add+to+photos3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNIWxdXiCoPGQnc75NstHbJQ0YcnoWAI8X79QuCTHfDN1qe2sBvbrB-qVtnBBEoT-EaeNnzEPG9JPd6b3lHFz0fEAcZTzubQc4DQY9oi5q7xvALf6DfF_aRaUzdbtmk0zSPy-B8pvdQns/s1600/0+0+add+to+photos3.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">We’re a generous lot here and we have another freebie waiting for you. If you’d like an illustrated guide to the Cape Point hikes you can download a FREE five-page printable pdf from </span><a href="http://www.slingsbymaps.com/documents/CP_Walks.pdf" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">http://www.slingsbymaps.com/documents/CP_Walks.pdf</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6otk_2LgcH5NbsV4kikhKBt66lCX5MJh9rMlUfgJlwLujEYkXg8tYiG2UdZUzq_QJGxJym5Kf3FJdV8AE3Tnv0b3rOqBHI0ESpd_dvSmHagaaE734JxqgEPNKG6cPPv1-pxJTeXP3cRg/s1600/0+campmac+minor+pale.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6otk_2LgcH5NbsV4kikhKBt66lCX5MJh9rMlUfgJlwLujEYkXg8tYiG2UdZUzq_QJGxJym5Kf3FJdV8AE3Tnv0b3rOqBHI0ESpd_dvSmHagaaE734JxqgEPNKG6cPPv1-pxJTeXP3cRg/s1600/0+campmac+minor+pale.jpg" height="320" width="172" /></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Have some great hiking!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kaartman, August 2014</span>Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-1335993368933003422014-05-24T08:18:00.000+02:002014-06-02T22:03:28.399+02:00Tankwa ...<span style="color: #073763; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>STOP PRESS!! NEW WEBSITE LAUNCHED!!</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #274e13;">Give it a moment to load <a href="http://www.slingsbymaps.com/" target="_blank">[here]</a>, depending on the speed of your ADSL</span><b style="color: #073763;"> </b><b><span style="color: red;">– then tell us what you think!</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Tankwa means [according to the book], “turbid water” [for the Tankwa River], or maybe “place of the San”, or simply “thirsty land”. It’s a magnificent arid plain framed in the west by the Cederberg and its familiar peaks, in the east by the soaring, dolomite Roggeveld mountains and, in the south, by the Koedoesberg. We recently held a poll on our website for our next map and the Tankwa Karoo won by a short head. Suitably encouraged, the Kaartmans loaded up the research wagon and headed for the Forgotten Highway. It leads out of Ceres and into the vastness of the Karoo, and, if you’re an <a href="http://www.afrikaburn.com/" target="_blank">AfrikaBurn</a> fan you’ve been there.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Day One began at Ceres, a day of threatening rain. Fifty millimetres a year, Mr Kaartman cheerfully told the missus, that’s all the Tankwa gets – it won’t be raining there. He was wrong. Of course.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We passed the Fat Boy Loo, sulking in the veld near Karoopoort, and called in briefly for coffee at the Tankwa Padstal. Wally Lange gave us plenty of tips for the map, including harsh words for some existing ‘maps’ that show you how to get lost. We diverted briefly up the Skittery Pass [our horses behaved, by the way], passing the Naked Footballer and watching rainbulls sweeping menacingly over the vast plain below. We paused at the turn off to AfrikaBurn. The ‘Tyre Shop’ signs are the ones to fear ... and if you don’t know what a ‘stofadil’ is, just go drive around the Tankwa – sooner or later you’ll meet one.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We paused once more to view the sad remains of ElandsvleiBurn – not, we presume, associated with recent events at the Tankwa Tented Camp. One hundred kilometres later we blew a back tyre on the ghastly bit of track that heads south off the Calvinia road, the road from the north to the <a href="http://www.sanparks.co.za/parks/tankwa/" target="_blank">Tankwa Karoo National Park</a>. As this Kaartman lay down in the dirt under the back bumper, seeking a jack-up point for the injured wagon, a rainbull struck in all its fury. The road became instant mud, torrents of dirty water struck me in mine eyes. Happily for us, Wonga, a young ranger from the Park, happened by and in minutes he had the spare wheel on the wagon.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Without much chance to admire our lekker cottage at Varschfontein, the next morning the owls in the palm trees woke us with lots of tuwittuwooing, and we hit the Gannaga Pass to Middelpos. Our trip hung in the balance. No spare wheel would mean skulking meekly back to Ceres, our research hopes in ruins.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Middelpos, population about 250, is about 250km from Ceres – that lightie in the hoodie has a long walk ahead. Middelpos is also the Boerbul Breeding and Testing Capital of South Africa. We stopped to admire these huge slavering carnivores; the owner in the picture also has a Jack Russell which we believe he keeps in his top pocket. Replete with free second-hand tyre with no tread [the only one available, what did we expect] we returned to Varschfontein in time for a sunset to die for.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">All followed by a lazy, unwinding Sunday in this highly-recommended Park, when a warm sun washed down on the incredible silence of the desert; lizards lazed in the sun and bokkies sipped water from the varsch fontein, which is cunningly situated so you can keep an eye on it over a large breakfast.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">On day four we hit the road with half-a-tank of gas, for distant Sutherland. The old skooltjie at Uintjiesbosch conveys well the enormous emptiness of the Tankwa; a bit further on was the first of many signs that helped convince us of the need for a good map ...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Ouberg Pass was originally a ‘trekpad’ and is still used for the seasonal moving of sheep from the Roggeveld into the Tankwa, and back again. It rises about 700m over three or four kilometres and is not an easy road – at all. It’s even worse when the petrol gauge has hit ‘empty’, you’re forced to drive in first gear, and Sutherland is still 24 kilometres away ... and the rusting old Oldsmobiles at the roadsides don’t boost confidence, either.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We made it to Sutherland with 400 ml of gas left in the tank. That’s about two glasses of wine or a bit more than a beer, so the Kaartmans were much relieved. We sank happily into Hannatjie Sieberhagen’s absolutely lekker cottage at <a href="http://www.rooikloof.co.za/" target="_blank">Rooikloof</a> – absolutely recommended, with the biggest and absolutely best bath we’ve enjoyed in many a cottage-for-hire. Hannatjie’s house has absolutely everything, even the distant bleating of sheep – very important for that proper Karoo atmosphere. Makes me hungry, though. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>At Sutherland JWL of JWL motors got us a new tyre, all the way from Worcester – good service, hey. Day five saw more strange roadsigns, baboons scooting across a hangbrug that most humans would, well, skitter over; a ‘bushmanland tent tortoise’ that the locals just call a doppieskilpad, a scene out of Star Wars #7 and an unusual farm – no, that’s not Nkandla re-named.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Day six began with the worst bit of corrugated road we found anywhere. There’s no best way to drive a road like that, unless you ride in a bulldozer, and the Nommerplaathek says it all. If you lost yours there thanks to extreme vibration, well, there it still is. The next road sign repeated the Call of the Tankwa – ‘map me pleeeeeze!!!’, and it was followed by a mystery plaashek where you were not allowed to stop, so we simply rode it down. The research wagon has some scars, but it was worth it to avoid meeting the friendly, hospitable South African farmer [remember that famous reputation?] whose ‘private’ notice was pretty unambiguous. It was not, in fact, Matjieskloof farm – there the all-steel locust was impressive. But it’s a long and not-very-winding road to Calvinia, so don’t take the kids on that road if you’re planning a trip there soon.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And so to Calvinia. We’d booked into the <a href="http://www.calvinia.co.za/hantamhuis.php" target="_blank">Hantam Huisies</a>, and we were not sorry. We had a lekker little house and a very lekker mutton pie in their restaurant, that evening. Highly recommended!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Day seven was disturbing. It began with some innocent-looking sheep, but, after refusing to get out of our way, they actually chased us as we gunned the wagon as fast as we dared up the rustic country road. A terrifying moment – all those blank, yellow eyes wondering if you taste as good as grass. The piebald horse was a relief, but we crossed a nek and, ye gods, there was Doctor Doolittle’s original pushme-pullyou at the roadside.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We fled down a dusty pass. At Soutpansrivier we had our revenge on the sheep, but we thought we should let City Tramways know [remember them] that we know where their lost bus is.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Research complete, we trundled down the Botterkloof Pass to Sevilla and an extraordinarily idle weekend at <a href="http://www.travellersrest.co.za/" target="_blank">Traveller’s Rest</a>, which of course, we recommend too, but don’t go there if you’re scared of the beautiful, rare little namtaps and the magnificent Bibron’s geckos that actually share your planet [and even some of your DNA!]. You wouldn’t believe the snotty complaints downloaded onto TripAdvisor about these harmless little beasties ...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kaartman, Inauguration Day, 2014 [don’t look, now!]</span>Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-19427583797567633962014-05-05T09:41:00.000+02:002014-05-25T18:32:09.840+02:00Silvermine<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We revisited Silvermine during the recent endless round of public holidays. Up the jeep track to Junction Pool (a good breakfast spot, that) – then up the back of Steenberg Peak to the Fat Lady’s Cave. We’d all like to know the origin of the name, someone please. There we met a party going the other way, who asked for advice.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Do you have a map?” we inquired. “Yes,” they said, whipping out an antique version 1.1 of the Silvermine map.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Oh dear,” said Mr K, “this map has passed its sell-by. Time you upgraded to version 4, you know.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">They looked confused until we were all introduced.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Which made me think it’s time to post a modest photo-essay of some of the delights of the Silvermine walks. These are all on the eastern side, where entrance is free, and possession of an ‘Activity Card’ for your dog seems to be somewhat respected in the breach. If you haven’t walked there before then it’s high time you did. You can get the waterproof map <a href="http://www.slingsbymaps.com/silvermine.aspx#.U2c77PmSx5M" target="_blank">online</a>; you can even download a <a href="http://www.slingsbymaps.com/documents/silvermine-walksinfo.pdf" target="_blank">free description of the best walks</a>. And you can cap that all with a new, superb little book, ‘Common Flowers of Table Mountain and Silvermine’ by Hugh Clarke, Bruce Mackenzie and Corinne Merry.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And when you’ve done that and you remain puzzled by the election results and how come a majority of South Africans still vote for corruption, for the grossly overweight, and for a future of being pushed off the road by blue-light convoys conveying pathetic idiots who think they’re important, you can even read about why this Kaartman maintains an occasional correspondence with a <a href="http://kaartman.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">murderer</a> ... [which has nothing whatsoever to do with Silvermine]</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>Flowers:</b> Clockwise from top left:</i> Aulax cancellata, <i>rare in the Cape Peninsula; Sugarbird on</i> Protea cynaroides<i>; green</i> Erica urna-viridis, <i>only found here;</i> Saltera sarcocolla <i>or vlieëbos</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>Flowers:</b> </i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Watsonias after a fire;</i> Leucadendron laureolum; Mimetes hirtus; Protea cynaroides</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>Places:</b> Silvermine Waterfall; Junction Pool; Fat Lady Cave [with two slim ladies]; climbing on Wolfkop</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>Spot the dogs ...</b></i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Views</b>: Simon’s Town; Noordhoek Beach; Cape Hangklip; Constantia Valley</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Drop-tail Ant,</i> Myrmicaria nigra <i>– common at Silvermine. <br />©2014 Peter Slingsby</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">– Kaartman, almost election day</span></span>Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-35059998846339775152014-04-16T12:38:00.000+02:002014-04-16T22:40:21.760+02:00Oudebos revisited<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This Kaartman made his first visit to Oudebos a long time ago, during the Dark Ages. Wessel de Beer was the Forestry Dept foreman at the time. Raconteur and rampant racist, Wessel was a real gentleman too, and I accompanied him deep into the Kogelberg to re-inter the ashes of botanist TP Stokoe. After the deed was done Wessel proudly showed off the dent in the long kikuyu grass behind his house where his favourite leopard sunned itself every morning.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When the Dept employed its first Coloured forester Wessel resigned and joined Andries Treurnicht’s Conservative Party – the Dark Ages, to be sure. Wessel is long gone and I’m sure the leopard has been long-since replaced.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Much later Mrs Kaartman was appointed administrator of the pension of one Oupa Jan. Oupa Jan lived in a small wooden house at Oudebos, with a special ramp to the back door. Jan had no legs, largely as a result of his long-standing encounters with the fruit of the vine, and he needed the ramp for his wheelchair. No prosthetics for Jan – he wasn’t much of a runner. No gun or cricket bat either. Or should I not have said that ...</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicaAMN2BpC22kWB3F9vtVIxIaXX_AIy_tm8pMv1xozy0M0epjGVgUpjvVNOai-pENwGYofA1gwBGjQ9oktkx_FKpP0SzIjcxr_Kn1p8wujCTNAzVgGbNW7LpeZoCTeab4R0YQH64FRLaQ/s1600/0+a+oudebos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicaAMN2BpC22kWB3F9vtVIxIaXX_AIy_tm8pMv1xozy0M0epjGVgUpjvVNOai-pENwGYofA1gwBGjQ9oktkx_FKpP0SzIjcxr_Kn1p8wujCTNAzVgGbNW7LpeZoCTeab4R0YQH64FRLaQ/s1600/0+a+oudebos.jpg" height="346" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Oupa Jan lived in the top-left house, where the social worker is visiting. <br />Wessel lived in the slasto-slate-chimney PWD job on the right</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Jan received R18.43 per month – bearing in mind that a Rand was worth at least 100 times its present value (a new Landcruiser 4x4 cost R3500), he was better off by nearly R6 than today’s state pensioners. However, a half-gallon glass jug of Virginia cost R2 to a thirsty man, so Jan had his cash administered and released in little bits, mostly in kind. Every month Jan pleaded with Mrs Kaartman for more cash and less mealie meal – he needed new underpants, he always said. The canny Mrs K knew what kind of underpants Jan wanted. More of a papsak than a papbroek, she reckoned.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Men at work</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Then thirty years ago a distinguished A-rated scientist friend of mine, one of only three living South Africans elected as a member by the US National Academy of Sciences [forgive this name-dropping] and I did some research at Oudebos, aimed at quantifying the influence of invasive Argentine ants on fynbos survival. The resulting paper bears the names of Bond and Slingsby and has been my sole contribution to the world’s body of scientific literature.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Oh be kind to your six-legged friends ...</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Be that as it may, we recently revisited Oudebosch [the name has now been sexed up to look more like a wine estate] to check whether the Argies had invaded further. It was the Kaartman’s second visit to the superb ‘ecolodges’ that now stand where Oupa Jan once lived, and if you haven’t tried them you really should. Apart from the funny ‘eco-loos’ [you need a shift of your comfort zone to get used to them] the cottages with their airy, open planning are truly magnificent, and are booked up for months ahead.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsc0SaN3lU0BGgjkDMTd03c2Mz-1OmVCso-KO_Bqkdm68BJoobq251KGZnKvK84vEx8XIBKw_ZXIEiO4mJq9YemVax80L6whHZHaJfkQCOPTVEgPjCEqCF36fbG5L54u4pHG-WtfyqPm4/s1600/0+b+ecolodge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsc0SaN3lU0BGgjkDMTd03c2Mz-1OmVCso-KO_Bqkdm68BJoobq251KGZnKvK84vEx8XIBKw_ZXIEiO4mJq9YemVax80L6whHZHaJfkQCOPTVEgPjCEqCF36fbG5L54u4pHG-WtfyqPm4/s1600/0+b+ecolodge.jpg" height="466" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Ecolodges with ecopool, ecoloos, ecolectricity and even ecoargentineants ... </span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">the veg has grown up a lot since this 2012 pic when </span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">the lodges were brand new</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We loved the visit, good times with friends and an incredibly warm, still, starlit night, and the ant survey produced some enormous surprises. We’re doing this research as a precursor to the initiation of an ‘Ant Atlassing’ project, of which more anon. And the results we found? More of those anon, too!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kaartman, Easter 2014</span>Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-19592572159355891202014-03-28T10:22:00.001+02:002014-03-28T10:22:33.682+02:00A Snake in the Trees<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Mrs Kaartman and I were extremely privileged recently to be invited to a preview of Cape Town’s latest and greatest functional sculpture – the Kirstenbosch “Boomslang”.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Designed by architect Mark Thomas and engineers Henry Fagan & Partners, the Boomslang is being built by relations of ours, building constructors Slingsby & Gaidien.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Accompanied by a selection of Kaartman offspring and other friends and relations we were shown over this nearly-complete marvel by brother David Slingsby.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Inspired by the structure of a snake skeleton, the Boomslang literally snakes through the treetops, with fantastic views over the Gardens, the mountain and the flats beyond. Let the pics speak for themselves; in the meantime, please DON’T arrive at the Boomslang and ask to be allowed in: someone will probably be rude to you. Its official opening lies ahead, possibly in May, and entrance will be free, so contain yourselves, please – it will be worth it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Happy April!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kaartman, 29 Maarch 2014</span>Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-43682229614195777022014-02-09T20:58:00.002+02:002014-02-09T22:36:19.669+02:00The People’s Trail<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A very long time ago [October 2005, actually] Kaartman wrote up a walk for the Cape Argus; it was published under the title ‘The Trail for the People’, a sub-editor’s choice that landed me in trouble with a raving lunatic [see blog post at <a href="http://kaartman.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Kaartman</a> if you really want the sordid details]. Mrs K and I duly republished the article in ‘Walks with a Fat Dog’ under the modest and trouble-free title, ‘Muizenberg Catwalk’. This is how the article began ...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>“There is only one great walk in the whole City of Cape Town that is truly a Trail for the People – all of the people. It’s a trail of stunning beauty and variety, and you can walk it pushing a pram, with toddlers, in your wheelchair, in your jogging shoes, after lunch, barefoot, with your granny, by yourself, with your whole extended family, after your office party, before dawn ... and you don’t need to own a car or even a bicycle to get there and back again, because it’s served by buses and taxis and trains from everywhere in the City. It’s a thirty-minute stroll or a five hour hike, and when you seek refreshment it has everything from your own sandwiches to fish ’n chips to gourmet meals and the finest wines.”</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Yesterday was a perfect Sunday, one of those champagne Cape summer days that was only slightly tarnished by some people called Dolphins beating some others called Cobras by two runs, but let’s leave that. Mrs K and I set off for Moozies at about 8:30 am. We parked at Checkers – Moozies beachfront has serious parking issues on great weekends. The People’s Trail lived up to its promise, a 3km stroll with a dip in the magic St James tidal pool, which I have enjoyed since the age of about three. Here are some pics; if you need a map try <a href="http://www.slingsbymaps.com/capepeninsula.aspx#.UvfPkPmSwfg" target="_blank">Cape Peninsula</a> or <a href="http://www.slingsbymaps.com/silvermine.aspx#.UvfPr_mSwfg" target="_blank">Silvermine</a> – we recommend them both, of course. ‘Walks with a Fat Dog’ is sadly out of print, but watch this space [note that I did NOT say ‘hold your breath’, hay].</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Enjoy the pics!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJKfu_LGkaazeGtCaHQXxRL5Oagdz7mLORxf6plHwF0EeQMDj7Zsc9m5CKftJ1QX7LenE5E_g_jrlDzm2z7qQrKKqgf3qSAtBYCJeGmBtvxjD0FK74odZF2vMMMuyCtH7IQg2xfVDXLEg/s1600/s+fishers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJKfu_LGkaazeGtCaHQXxRL5Oagdz7mLORxf6plHwF0EeQMDj7Zsc9m5CKftJ1QX7LenE5E_g_jrlDzm2z7qQrKKqgf3qSAtBYCJeGmBtvxjD0FK74odZF2vMMMuyCtH7IQg2xfVDXLEg/s1600/s+fishers.jpg" height="238" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The pillar off the point at Bailey’s Cottage is actually a sad<br /> memorial to a child lost off the rocks here, more than a century ago ...</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiP60TDHf7IduSs0c3KMRwaoeYXNwXaBd27aJXs_40LLoZtfy45JjMb2Ym-ZeaLcUWzlCEEjIbQgXxFbZzBulFaRi9tFdI9FAdiHkKoMII_pe8TH0azterdqHttg_CWEGrDYSDxmtEfqk/s1600/s+muiz+beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiP60TDHf7IduSs0c3KMRwaoeYXNwXaBd27aJXs_40LLoZtfy45JjMb2Ym-ZeaLcUWzlCEEjIbQgXxFbZzBulFaRi9tFdI9FAdiHkKoMII_pe8TH0azterdqHttg_CWEGrDYSDxmtEfqk/s1600/s+muiz+beach.jpg" height="302" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Muizenberg Beach, always a weekend hive of activity</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijj4E-h0c3RM6lMHCSis7byYXw9-hhTwC21aXt2VKLzExKye0xSkZQf8Yz9iZUUGPV-Rl6QFvhhokA976V6XFvWHfNLQ8iC7gh3e7e54-JCx3mfXiZbSMqiZbQ1W7nH1-nzJsn17nnFU4/s1600/s+train.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijj4E-h0c3RM6lMHCSis7byYXw9-hhTwC21aXt2VKLzExKye0xSkZQf8Yz9iZUUGPV-Rl6QFvhhokA976V6XFvWHfNLQ8iC7gh3e7e54-JCx3mfXiZbSMqiZbQ1W7nH1-nzJsn17nnFU4/s1600/s+train.jpg" height="316" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">... and don’t skrik when the trains thunder by .</span></i>..</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifI_SiH-vO11u4AMUCBoooW0OZOuNjsiN5_gsV0ENsIkOW8ABY6g8nEP9_JrgUQ6Bx-Yyf6XP0csuE5Cso752v8Evw9dt4as6qesmFLm86Nx2t9Yl9aCSz6EYN7gWMw6DG4nK3TuFS13o/s1600/s+kayaker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifI_SiH-vO11u4AMUCBoooW0OZOuNjsiN5_gsV0ENsIkOW8ABY6g8nEP9_JrgUQ6Bx-Yyf6XP0csuE5Cso752v8Evw9dt4as6qesmFLm86Nx2t9Yl9aCSz6EYN7gWMw6DG4nK3TuFS13o/s1600/s+kayaker.jpg" height="312" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kayaking ...</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm2FOsLWUc-QKdZn8kvHEasCzIEmqYcpldlcxkPiLAPDGz4XlbkjK_0NSoTw-WwyF3fi7mf5xEaPzQDCz_BOTPlN3H3A3LdEn9n9iK_w0k25Ja19iF5QumuuBzBb-_KPIOuS0vnOL_dyc/s1600/s+surfer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm2FOsLWUc-QKdZn8kvHEasCzIEmqYcpldlcxkPiLAPDGz4XlbkjK_0NSoTw-WwyF3fi7mf5xEaPzQDCz_BOTPlN3H3A3LdEn9n9iK_w0k25Ja19iF5QumuuBzBb-_KPIOuS0vnOL_dyc/s1600/s+surfer.jpg" height="282" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">... surfing ...</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinoK2SABvXknHqOBflQW5SE5_JCDiji-eay2TwFScSDx2_4MMHDfRHcRd_-M4n4NcI3j-2orE3C4b73xf4U78lR8JnKa9rNO8OGHqoRTXi4wuBAga84ePYtotGy7Mvujm3CpZFhrJnMCY/s1600/s+baileys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinoK2SABvXknHqOBflQW5SE5_JCDiji-eay2TwFScSDx2_4MMHDfRHcRd_-M4n4NcI3j-2orE3C4b73xf4U78lR8JnKa9rNO8OGHqoRTXi4wuBAga84ePYtotGy7Mvujm3CpZFhrJnMCY/s1600/s+baileys.jpg" height="332" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">... hanging out ...</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyG2T7rSF7kJQi4jGVVV5mmXgZYWp0XdFBjCLCfeyR4p6cZhx5h5lGTDiAX1gVwV3XK5zQeQZCQy3BBcILmoTF9abKMf3gaFGvhjIYmJlSkQ6ST7jskncgYPx2Zgwas4teTbPhyphenhypheniIHFiI/s1600/s+map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyG2T7rSF7kJQi4jGVVV5mmXgZYWp0XdFBjCLCfeyR4p6cZhx5h5lGTDiAX1gVwV3XK5zQeQZCQy3BBcILmoTF9abKMf3gaFGvhjIYmJlSkQ6ST7jskncgYPx2Zgwas4teTbPhyphenhypheniIHFiI/s1600/s+map.jpg" height="640" width="506" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">... HERE!!!</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kaartman, Feb 2014</span><br />
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Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-24777853977625178562014-01-03T10:42:00.000+02:002014-01-03T10:42:12.567+02:00What goes on in Smitswinkel Bay<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Time was when every little secret cove of the Cape Peninsula held a motley collection of seaside shacks, vicariously occupied in holiday times by a motley collection of wannabe seaside villagers and/or simple fisherfolk. Some of these shanty towns became places like Clifton, where your shack will now cost you R200 million or so. Others have steadily yuppified, transmogrified into respectable dormitory suburbs like Hout Bay, Llandudno, or Clovelly. Others have shaken off their shacks for monstrous displays of obscene wealth, like Noordhoek or even Kommetjie. Scarborough and Misty Cliffs are desperately trying to catch up; southern Simon’s Town and Glencairn got there long ago; I’m not even going to mention Fish Hoek. The Last Bastion of seaside shackdom left is Smitswinkel Bay. You can’t drive there; it has no electricity, no water mains, no refuse collections, no telephones and hardly any cellphone reception. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But Smits has mystique. It has 28 dwellings, from clapboard and tar shacks to fairly sophisticated-looking holiday cottages, and it has the best views in the whole Peninsula. It’s reached only down a long, sweaty footpath and that’s also the only way to leave.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt7tg0eTPLyAfNm04bBfusug-8cQ5Fk-WsCLDoLaO9TF80nN99KtDL-6HQx9kBxPBsRZEmZR24mjt6cL_wmYifMoAO5N5pCsdG-i870GjLv2gLzOzRvNlw3kOAQiTfDYys-6N4IJh1eGQ/s1600/00+best+view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt7tg0eTPLyAfNm04bBfusug-8cQ5Fk-WsCLDoLaO9TF80nN99KtDL-6HQx9kBxPBsRZEmZR24mjt6cL_wmYifMoAO5N5pCsdG-i870GjLv2gLzOzRvNlw3kOAQiTfDYys-6N4IJh1eGQ/s640/00+best+view.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Smits: the best views in the whole Peninsula</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“What do people do there?” we were asked by a bright young thing with innocent eyes and shapely curves, who could not believe that there was no road access. We met her at the parking lot, having just emerged, very hot and sweaty and plastered with rucksacks and coolboxes and dogsonleads, from the dreaded footpath.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You wouldn’t believe it,” we replied .... so here goes; what goes on in Smitswinkel Bay – in no particular order. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>In Smitswinkel Bay you can ...</i></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxLQdw0YgUD9_i3xHolJGp-Oz-jNf3RTky1OEm_ZpMh0Kk-usYm7Mk5H5ust1dve4pCjsC1re1pUaD_nnBFQd7qf6TSrIVp5liXxGfaNpexlCrttQ7fu_AUfTSKZiMGja69Z-MV2ntHSk/s1600/01+go+fishin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxLQdw0YgUD9_i3xHolJGp-Oz-jNf3RTky1OEm_ZpMh0Kk-usYm7Mk5H5ust1dve4pCjsC1re1pUaD_nnBFQd7qf6TSrIVp5liXxGfaNpexlCrttQ7fu_AUfTSKZiMGja69Z-MV2ntHSk/s640/01+go+fishin.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">go fishin’ ... and inspect the catch ...</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlDPokeUnf9KKA5S58cMf7GOwmNSjNDnCZ8X5yjzbiQGp9LX2MedVtZXQiqWBQpxtRKC0j1XQhAyHbOg8C-z1wNKgLZ8GonZNRsJIheb1Eernu4ZpFt3amma76TBCIhpk5T-yZPh8HenA/s1600/02+bark+back+at+dogs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlDPokeUnf9KKA5S58cMf7GOwmNSjNDnCZ8X5yjzbiQGp9LX2MedVtZXQiqWBQpxtRKC0j1XQhAyHbOg8C-z1wNKgLZ8GonZNRsJIheb1Eernu4ZpFt3amma76TBCIhpk5T-yZPh8HenA/s640/02+bark+back+at+dogs.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">... bark back at dogs... or chew the fat ....</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZrrMdg36gxbi6CrSgx1aGH208WJ8PyhpzO4c_pSbRtIABGMv0yA9X_V2eVeY54cdzKFOAyuInc-2OMkVW_xyv6zy5t94rx-KlhmC0TRA2xG76KhzKIFZqHfJNJQmTi7ARJhwptFblz8/s1600/03+chill+in+waves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZrrMdg36gxbi6CrSgx1aGH208WJ8PyhpzO4c_pSbRtIABGMv0yA9X_V2eVeY54cdzKFOAyuInc-2OMkVW_xyv6zy5t94rx-KlhmC0TRA2xG76KhzKIFZqHfJNJQmTi7ARJhwptFblz8/s640/03+chill+in+waves.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">... chill in the waves ... or chill out at the J&B house ...</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsbjnDdi2_T0hxcKpqvbtiKiLTAqV_kATsKWnOiKFukBs1iecsQ94v4tGHxebqgmNYE_ZLPQ-KIH4kaohBuEtLRcoT1Y91ySYJ8y985QaK16-QKcezkAoMjriKtQeU1fw4NnkuM4g1lWw/s1600/04+do+jigsaws.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsbjnDdi2_T0hxcKpqvbtiKiLTAqV_kATsKWnOiKFukBs1iecsQ94v4tGHxebqgmNYE_ZLPQ-KIH4kaohBuEtLRcoT1Y91ySYJ8y985QaK16-QKcezkAoMjriKtQeU1fw4NnkuM4g1lWw/s640/04+do+jigsaws.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">... do jigsaw puzzles ... or frolic in the foam ...</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimcae95vWikxXnt7CUcLh9xT8-po53g-d6rnILgOGVqOyE0KFK-zR8EVMVPGamM-6ATXExfhegoYbwZM15c3gRPZ7SWl7wEi6cuolnusFiammlpnr2RRCl_RrhrUGkhLJiDU-AOJs4dtI/s1600/06+check+toenails.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimcae95vWikxXnt7CUcLh9xT8-po53g-d6rnILgOGVqOyE0KFK-zR8EVMVPGamM-6ATXExfhegoYbwZM15c3gRPZ7SWl7wEi6cuolnusFiammlpnr2RRCl_RrhrUGkhLJiDU-AOJs4dtI/s640/06+check+toenails.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">... check your toenails ... or strike with your feet ...</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGqOjGwrdzpQuFE05ittMUphTx0uFPRc-XsQvMlOJIW-k83Ntdi0sL4mrGBazy3GNMmTz7mbsMf4XjhOcEnxpfom6UPyJkfmNpHseg1DFy1e_iUeYyUiK33TAY49VpSe1mWIC7xoVM89M/s1600/05+humpalegs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGqOjGwrdzpQuFE05ittMUphTx0uFPRc-XsQvMlOJIW-k83Ntdi0sL4mrGBazy3GNMmTz7mbsMf4XjhOcEnxpfom6UPyJkfmNpHseg1DFy1e_iUeYyUiK33TAY49VpSe1mWIC7xoVM89M/s640/05+humpalegs.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">... humpa leg ... or let it all hang out ...</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir77GH3QxlCCjxk-tzSntX9xypJLb6T1hLTgJxezGm8C36KD1YSA3dktA_6u8oirNKiIr0GuGQWtLAdeEVbcJmtNrzjQ0IxX2U82n8CHN-_of0UO4eJhc8T6X6C39dPF7evO0RjLgTWNk/s1600/07+read+last+years.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir77GH3QxlCCjxk-tzSntX9xypJLb6T1hLTgJxezGm8C36KD1YSA3dktA_6u8oirNKiIr0GuGQWtLAdeEVbcJmtNrzjQ0IxX2U82n8CHN-_of0UO4eJhc8T6X6C39dPF7evO0RjLgTWNk/s640/07+read+last+years.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">... read last year’s news ... or play hide ’n seek ...</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIxJjrQeQfb_wtCq7ebeHq8cedjh1YsOFFYaGw85r_fcZr7udEqKULxzAHySkuppRtUHIWRH3poT5Tn73pxAtRlhm78wpLSfHjIoIDCtDMUfMGFDiO9FbkTGh_Mo9e-M5_SbhFi4zdhgg/s1600/08+sleep+on+beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIxJjrQeQfb_wtCq7ebeHq8cedjh1YsOFFYaGw85r_fcZr7udEqKULxzAHySkuppRtUHIWRH3poT5Tn73pxAtRlhm78wpLSfHjIoIDCtDMUfMGFDiO9FbkTGh_Mo9e-M5_SbhFi4zdhgg/s640/08+sleep+on+beach.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">... sleep off Christmas ... or snog your girl ...</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOEY3FuXB6bKKC0KY6jYtodFw6N9UzFyhyFiBqJexCm865d60dzZduYzeav4pi4O-7cs3BEX489JRzsxWG-9MgiVlcugNskTnUgTYAYwSJr6B41IF4QCb9RrXjLrelclrBtTIWuH2sMMQ/s1600/09+surf+giant+boulders.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOEY3FuXB6bKKC0KY6jYtodFw6N9UzFyhyFiBqJexCm865d60dzZduYzeav4pi4O-7cs3BEX489JRzsxWG-9MgiVlcugNskTnUgTYAYwSJr6B41IF4QCb9RrXjLrelclrBtTIWuH2sMMQ/s640/09+surf+giant+boulders.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">... surf giant boulders ... or pose for selfies ...</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbwyj_d_CkEOo8r3W-QKQt1iZzdgRK-Vz63m7u3MGUDr-NwaYIZQ1uIOKbKqjRbD-FK3mgASWuTZQy_t-UPjkhtsN2UEHdxB9xErajhdUOtTEAvwn-OJ1Qdu00yNiHUm4zxTWhPGpK-Ac/s1600/10+throw+kelp+at+friends.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbwyj_d_CkEOo8r3W-QKQt1iZzdgRK-Vz63m7u3MGUDr-NwaYIZQ1uIOKbKqjRbD-FK3mgASWuTZQy_t-UPjkhtsN2UEHdxB9xErajhdUOtTEAvwn-OJ1Qdu00yNiHUm4zxTWhPGpK-Ac/s640/10+throw+kelp+at+friends.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">... throw kelp at your friends ... or keep your nappy dry ...</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk7psHrHdI8FAUgcTbDNt9T_HvykqgsApWoSlGH5LPpq3pF5WtT8OKSXIHezHr-C-iG4jEVXyIVbjiHxeVBXI0q01kOKwJZFLzGw9KEyHBJLGuO7sbr0C6VflsgkKoLtGVHMqTrfdALto/s1600/11+walk+the+dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk7psHrHdI8FAUgcTbDNt9T_HvykqgsApWoSlGH5LPpq3pF5WtT8OKSXIHezHr-C-iG4jEVXyIVbjiHxeVBXI0q01kOKwJZFLzGw9KEyHBJLGuO7sbr0C6VflsgkKoLtGVHMqTrfdALto/s640/11+walk+the+dog.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>... walk the dog, or ... wanna play with the big boys ...</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Smits – we love you. And not least because you never, ever, ever feel like my last pic ...</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggY8Fs5MByM6_dgjegIX_dZfi98aMwgefxeyuM6DOFuuTETp80N4LQtXvyAec_3usAI6dV6XvjH9GsX6g8RZQDauwCsrB_xTSsTpV4x5urYtOpUKP7AXaDZXb90m3noub-pbZJZDfEZ7Y/s1600/12+avoid+the+madding+crowd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggY8Fs5MByM6_dgjegIX_dZfi98aMwgefxeyuM6DOFuuTETp80N4LQtXvyAec_3usAI6dV6XvjH9GsX6g8RZQDauwCsrB_xTSsTpV4x5urYtOpUKP7AXaDZXb90m3noub-pbZJZDfEZ7Y/s640/12+avoid+the+madding+crowd.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Muizenberg Beach, New Year’s Day</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kaartman, Derde Nuwejaar, 2014</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Have a great year, every one!</span></div>
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Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-33311869606650754362013-12-21T07:42:00.000+02:002013-12-21T07:42:53.247+02:00Season's Greetings<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">... from all the Kaartmanne ... here's a brief photo-essay van ons doen en late in 2013 ...</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihzqldXOIvavXijyQbe1bhO-lQOghPp2UxRiQ_pIO8cHQE1ioYmxdCHhrUUH0uZJCrmHhXpavM19byEuKGTO3ALWbkBZN7Ghedvc5bUTUPO2ITc7LM0N4meNzVIThKegPHDOFh3wZ31Us/s1600/2013+msg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihzqldXOIvavXijyQbe1bhO-lQOghPp2UxRiQ_pIO8cHQE1ioYmxdCHhrUUH0uZJCrmHhXpavM19byEuKGTO3ALWbkBZN7Ghedvc5bUTUPO2ITc7LM0N4meNzVIThKegPHDOFh3wZ31Us/s1600/2013+msg.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kaartman, Summer Solstice 2013</span>Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-28734418320051012242013-11-22T09:52:00.000+02:002013-11-22T09:52:01.687+02:00Poison Mountain, and Another Fat Dog<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1wx5c2Aju3qQvXtAVlz4fh4OlarOKVMsfoPXAUE29nDUXPEiuMs12AyDyux9UNHEsb5OxaTz4JbE3XGWZWoHwl5bRfD2U97yEqNyFc5ROdpCAds3ApwWkOQkGpaCzIP_ogql7LHTj508/s1600/0+0+rp+cave+sleepers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1wx5c2Aju3qQvXtAVlz4fh4OlarOKVMsfoPXAUE29nDUXPEiuMs12AyDyux9UNHEsb5OxaTz4JbE3XGWZWoHwl5bRfD2U97yEqNyFc5ROdpCAds3ApwWkOQkGpaCzIP_ogql7LHTj508/s640/0+0+rp+cave+sleepers.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The last time the Kaartmans visited there was January 2009. That was a mistake; it was 43 degrees when we arrived, and we spent the night outside, lying on a mattress in our underclothes. In the morning it was still 36 degrees; we drove away with the aircon on level five and promptly got bogged down to the axles of our small Bantam bakkie in a lonely drift, miles from anywhere.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We were rescued by a pleasant young man from Wiedouw, the farm at the bottom of the pass, and hence lived to tell the tale, but I digress. A few weeks ago we returned to Gifberg, in delightfully cool weather, in a rather larger vehicle, and we had a ball.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCTUsJ3_EoMkEoGynfKlbjNiTqTaSX6oTqgzl93Lwv3BAGnjPo4VeuNIXeBOHFXPNlAV9c-IB-gCPqszgbI05J2nq1jNMrwHAp_ZWvm3HrOrdqMTEe68C1rHWmDgsCKmWBa4w9Y5-IPsg/s1600/0+0+gifberg+entrance.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCTUsJ3_EoMkEoGynfKlbjNiTqTaSX6oTqgzl93Lwv3BAGnjPo4VeuNIXeBOHFXPNlAV9c-IB-gCPqszgbI05J2nq1jNMrwHAp_ZWvm3HrOrdqMTEe68C1rHWmDgsCKmWBa4w9Y5-IPsg/s400/0+0+gifberg+entrance.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">We went to explore possibilities for a map of the Gifberg paths for our host, Jansu Huisamen. Jansu tells us that the popular season at Gifberg is more or less from Easter until October, with a brief Christmas peak. Gifberg’s spring flowers are great, but even though our November visit was too late for those, the fynbos was full of eye-catching beauties.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jansu handed us over to Spook for the first morning. Spook is a sort-of terrier who closely resembles the late Minnie, of Fat Dog fame, except that Spook is much fatter. Spook in turn introduced us to Putty, a cool young Weimeraner, who barked twice and produced Jacques Tredoux. Jacques is a fully-qualified field guide, born and bred in the Cederberg, one of those ouens with a scary, encyclopedic knowledge of tracks and dung and stones and most, if not all, of the floral beauties of the Poison Mountain. With or without Spook or Putty we can strongly recommend him as a guide. Ou toppies go slowly up hills and get ridiculously cantankerous when hot; Jacques managed us ou toppies and our even older Professor friend with skill, if not aplomb. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ1FnOxcR-Mq__P0Mr3gXkQNJ8EB9csXaHEgPg5Go9sUZioeCxJEO_C1Hlog-F1ntklkut4yUCZTgOeIMQinqzO5RvZduB89uT7eJwVS_NldPDUO6TkpF8HKgTPhCrKsMNZJcx0-7qit4/s1600/0+0+gofboom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ1FnOxcR-Mq__P0Mr3gXkQNJ8EB9csXaHEgPg5Go9sUZioeCxJEO_C1Hlog-F1ntklkut4yUCZTgOeIMQinqzO5RvZduB89uT7eJwVS_NldPDUO6TkpF8HKgTPhCrKsMNZJcx0-7qit4/s640/0+0+gofboom.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Pics of a gifboom, its flowers and fruits from <a href="http://www.plantzafrica.com/planthij/hyaenancheglob.htm" target="_blank">Plantzafrica</a></span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Gifberg is named, of course, for the presence there of the gifboom. Try to google ‘gifboom’ and you’ll get about nine million entries for a phone app called ‘gifboom’ which has something to do with swopping pictures and making movies about twerking. It’s a pity the Gifberg Bushmen didn’t register ‘gifboom’ as a cultural name, like champagne, sherry and rooibos tea, but there it is. Lost to the nation, you could say. Nevertheless, from Google I eventually dug up three plants called ‘gifboom’: a Namibian euphorbia, a Southern Cape shrubby tree, and the real thing, <i>Hyaenanche globosa</i>, which you can read all about at an excellent web page, <a href="http://www.plantzafrica.com/planthij/hyaenancheglob.htm">http://www.plantzafrica.com/planthij/hyaenancheglob.htm</a>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The page’s author, the esteemed Ernst van Jaarsveld, says (amongst lots of other equally interesting stuff), “The local common name gifboom (gif = poison, and boom = tree) pertains to its toxic attributes and the name Gifberg is derived from the common name of this plant. The gifboom ... was first documented by a number of prominent European botanists visiting the Cape during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. The first to come across this plant was the Van der Stel expedition, en route to the Koperberg, Namaqualand in 1685 ... Aylmer Lambert (1761–1842), a British botanist, created the genus name <i>Hyaenanche</i> (after its use by farmers to kill hyenas) in 1799.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKL27cV1z7I8hsWrJthqUjr5nleN-9y3je1mVVERoIwEL_zRVnY67t20DMwcquSLSmOda4Uxj07WTGtB2OA7xkMD9GUuxcdIbsx1nbZCdkwjHOoO49NEuOnpbhNQJa2hLrVU5YdOnqSxg/s1600/0+0+blomme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKL27cV1z7I8hsWrJthqUjr5nleN-9y3je1mVVERoIwEL_zRVnY67t20DMwcquSLSmOda4Uxj07WTGtB2OA7xkMD9GUuxcdIbsx1nbZCdkwjHOoO49NEuOnpbhNQJa2hLrVU5YdOnqSxg/s640/0+0+blomme.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Other Gifberg beauties: clockwise from top left, a </i>Cotyledon<i> or gwi; a daisy with a beetle; </i>Leucospermum praemorsum<i>; firesticks [koenakam] in berry </i>(Diospyros austro-africanus)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“According to Watt & Breyer-Brandwijk (1962) the seed of <i>Hyaenanche</i> was used both by Bushmen for their arrows, and well as farmers to poison carcasses with the purpose of destroying hyenas. In 1797 Lambert wrote: ‘This shrub grows about two hundred miles from the Cape, in a rocky soil, in a single spot, on Wind-Hook Mountain near the Elephants River. A farmer lives there who collects the fruit, by which he makes profit of about 20 pounds per annum, selling it for the purpose of poisoning hyenas. The fruit is pounded into a powder and administered in the same manner as Nux Vomica. The powder is put into the carcasses of lambs, which are laid where the hyenas are known to come. By eating its flesh they are infallibly destroyed ...’”</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinbecwjjDWLQs5kyi76cDhDWixu5RY6qHdS_xoZyOovDvCtXp3N3wG8FMFn6MyirEy5fftjM-ni2jZ_4pRzQAXWd6tZ1mRNLpwjcvfupjC_YtFsu-1NZKYnc0SJ1jojEUNHpj05AIBAjk/s1600/0+0+spook+1+n+ra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinbecwjjDWLQs5kyi76cDhDWixu5RY6qHdS_xoZyOovDvCtXp3N3wG8FMFn6MyirEy5fftjM-ni2jZ_4pRzQAXWd6tZ1mRNLpwjcvfupjC_YtFsu-1NZKYnc0SJ1jojEUNHpj05AIBAjk/s640/0+0+spook+1+n+ra.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Clockwise from top left: Spook leading us home; Rock painting of people in karosses – the men have arrows in their hats; youths frolicking around in a rather Grecian manner; the iconic Gifberg ladies</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Don’t season your mutton braai tjops with ground gifboom: your destruction will infallibly follow. We avoided the November-flowering gifboom and set off with Jacques to see the rock paintings, for which the <a href="http://www.gifberg.co.za/" target="_blank">Gifberg Resort </a>is justifiably famous. There are several sites strung alone the sides of the impressive Gifberg River Canyon, and in some of them the paintings are so well-preserved that your initial impression might be (wrongly) that someone has repainted them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>As the day got hotter chubby old Spook led us home, and while the rest of the Cape prepared itself for some pretty devastating floods we snoozed away a sunny afternoon (’strue).</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYvIIRc7h0pOOhEmSA9FMvcw1jEYE07ZX9k6M_rcfTnF0BFcTMER8Lu5CfJYbQ8tEYkZxlh-sCpkso_xBMyLcvKPWzNOR-4IzXjBXiBk5I7UZicNZj0GgrLUSbnf_r9-TZo4_hrmfp018/s1600/0+0+putty+n+professor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYvIIRc7h0pOOhEmSA9FMvcw1jEYE07ZX9k6M_rcfTnF0BFcTMER8Lu5CfJYbQ8tEYkZxlh-sCpkso_xBMyLcvKPWzNOR-4IzXjBXiBk5I7UZicNZj0GgrLUSbnf_r9-TZo4_hrmfp018/s640/0+0+putty+n+professor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Left: Jacques sorts his artefacts while Putty matches the cave décor; the Professor takes a photo [yes, he did cut the figure’s head off!]</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Early the next morning Spook arrived, panting, to wake us up. The poor fellow seemed devastated, however, when we all climbed into Jansu’s 4 x 4 and left him behind. Several kilometres of plaas-pad later, through the healthiest-looking rooibos tea lands you ever saw, we all climbed out to begin our walk; Spook was already there waiting for us, panting.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I don’t know how he did that. I didn’t want to ask. I don’t normally believe in spooks, but ... well, enough said.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqau3I8L_E9DvVwD5qFehW8CcKVnT5aSid9b-ZBJVqEUasc6djOT3Q8b_S3NDcyQ-a7Sj4ikTJxih1COYdUrxf-9JvWFyMyFw2wsD1nakPlWrXd43Z4CwJwgjRVSquIQByzix-tKfWsFw/s1600/0+0+spook+2.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="520" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqau3I8L_E9DvVwD5qFehW8CcKVnT5aSid9b-ZBJVqEUasc6djOT3Q8b_S3NDcyQ-a7Sj4ikTJxih1COYdUrxf-9JvWFyMyFw2wsD1nakPlWrXd43Z4CwJwgjRVSquIQByzix-tKfWsFw/s640/0+0+spook+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jansu and Jacques, with Jansu’s kleintjie Luca, led us down a valley to spy on a black eagle’s nest. And to see some more great rock art. And baboons. That was the only problematical part of our trip. Not the baboons, but the member of our party who persisted in shouting and waving sticks and throwing stones at them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I like seeing baboons. They’re as much a part of the wilderness as leopards and ants and black eagles and the gifboom. They’re never a threat to humans, except for the ones ruined by stupid human behaviour at Cape Point. They’re comical and fun to watch, especially their gymnastics up and down cliff faces where us humans would infallibly just die.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiohHbipesgBjm2P-k1SYGar2kKZs-Oq1jVLqMwQ8aGQB1mrUWyk4QsblNtPCMZjcU55yZ1WKPfq_Epyv95Z8j-AO2Twnzw_UkjgLE-WSf9DshMC1fp2XnwJ0z2snV5nliUlL4gtFg6MTw/s1600/0+0+babs+on+cliff.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="510" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiohHbipesgBjm2P-k1SYGar2kKZs-Oq1jVLqMwQ8aGQB1mrUWyk4QsblNtPCMZjcU55yZ1WKPfq_Epyv95Z8j-AO2Twnzw_UkjgLE-WSf9DshMC1fp2XnwJ0z2snV5nliUlL4gtFg6MTw/s640/0+0+babs+on+cliff.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">‘Hey, you down there! Wait for me!’</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We moved on, Spook in the lead, to some truly spectacular paintings and through some truly spectacular pincushions, <i>Leucospermum praemorsum</i> to the botanical boffs. Jansu kindly lifted Spook into the back of the 4x4: he’d done enough panting for the day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>If you have never been there before, it’s time you visited <a href="http://www.gifberg.co.za/" target="_blank">Gifberg</a>. There are very comfortable cottages and four walking trails, from a 2km ramble to the amazing potholes to the long, 21 km trek down into the spectacular Doring River canyon. There are incredible flowers, wonderful rock paintings and, to boot, for a very small fee the expert Jacques will be your guide. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgul7PWeXpnXUjvMQV1k6v9GG-ax8htgAMVsGpe1W0laERVHeIZ5sRiW6rE01g74AYxoo0i3hzIFRWgwCIDNYLv8XZgbwjyp3CZh7XMBevxkesIHX1aXQhsWIVUxTNkpH8MZPv9m7435lM/s1600/1368967336.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgul7PWeXpnXUjvMQV1k6v9GG-ax8htgAMVsGpe1W0laERVHeIZ5sRiW6rE01g74AYxoo0i3hzIFRWgwCIDNYLv8XZgbwjyp3CZh7XMBevxkesIHX1aXQhsWIVUxTNkpH8MZPv9m7435lM/s640/1368967336.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>If you know any young people looking for a great future career, Jacques and Nadia Tredoux are also the proud owner/organisers of the <a href="http://www.cederwild.com/" target="_blank">Cederberg Wilderness Academy</a>, where a six month all-found course will leave you qualified to lead parties on wilderness experiences everywhere. Overseas students wanting to fill a gap year after school take note, too! This place is real Africa, where the leopard dung on the paths is pretty darn fresh and quite smelly, and you will never forget the experience.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Just don’t eat the seeds of the gifboom, that’s all. They’re infallible; you’re not.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">– Kaartman, 22 November 2013</span>Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-73527993449543274272013-11-03T10:45:00.000+02:002013-11-03T10:50:55.550+02:00Go Google yourself<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Kaartman recently wrote a brief bit for <a href="http://veldfloraed.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">BotSoc’s ‘Veld & Flora’</a> (to be published in the December issue). I was sent the proofs by the estimable editor, Caroline Voget, and found that the article was headed by a photo of my dogs. And myself. On Muizenberg Beach.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl-SKU7BtaGwG5r6ue5MvjswIg9lAb65RDTX2SuAeJmMQH77l21fUwUkWwZT5JvswMdSoRPVt1r2CFXjghYDu9BhAHMCa0hIm5O9HzaS8FkUJFS2IT__laeqqNyBzVhqvvGkGHQesjJs0/s1600/kaartmansm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl-SKU7BtaGwG5r6ue5MvjswIg9lAb65RDTX2SuAeJmMQH77l21fUwUkWwZT5JvswMdSoRPVt1r2CFXjghYDu9BhAHMCa0hIm5O9HzaS8FkUJFS2IT__laeqqNyBzVhqvvGkGHQesjJs0/s320/kaartmansm.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Mike Dexter’s pic</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Hmm, I thought. A brilliant photographer by name of Mike Dexter took that pic – it’s his copyright. I better find him before there’s a bloop here.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So I googled myself, trying to track down Dexter. Well, my ‘Images’, anyway.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There’s a thing about googling yourself which you need to know. If your name is ‘Kaartman’ you’ll be able to find yourself quite quickly, because there are only a handful of Kaartmanne in the whole wide world. If your name is John Smith you’ve got problems. Try googling ‘Dexter’ and you get 28 million entries about an American sitcom. Finding Mike was gonna be tough.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There’s not too many of me, though, and the ‘Images’ only had three or four portraits that I recognised. There were hundreds of bits of maps of course – they help us to weed out all those sneaky people who have pinched our maps for their websites, without permission.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But I digress. The other funny thing about googling yourself (but not if you are John Smith) is discovering that around the world there are several imposters pretending to be you.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ3OnabEKPzuShOGaGL6Vuo3Vq9HqNWXvKCdGxqLJStOIPAwxVIk-bPSj8oKEttwf5W29JPiKoOmFVLqZf4glMKBsrnSbQcyxjhkQoTOOiRCI8xlA5fbIhoNpODROtduzzWRNZXyRsdW0/s1600/Peter+Slingsby+Australia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ3OnabEKPzuShOGaGL6Vuo3Vq9HqNWXvKCdGxqLJStOIPAwxVIk-bPSj8oKEttwf5W29JPiKoOmFVLqZf4glMKBsrnSbQcyxjhkQoTOOiRCI8xlA5fbIhoNpODROtduzzWRNZXyRsdW0/s320/Peter+Slingsby+Australia.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Peter Slingsby checking <br />the Queensland sewers</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>For example, I found that in Queensland, Australia, there’s a Peter Slingsby who got an award for developing a CCTV camera that can be used to inspect sewers. Peter is quoted in a thing called ‘Trenchless Australasia’: “You can go through a pipe and find something wrong. You can monitor it and say ‘okay, matey, let’s monitor and see how it deteriorates’. But really the best thing to do, Bruce,</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">is</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> if you see something wrong or you see something going wrong, fix it now. Because if you leave it, the more it deteriorates, the harder it is to fix.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Perceptive guy, hey. He’s no relation of mine.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiocCXQ5XkQ4ocLQG2-GVsE205Y6VB1AKT1FKDbE2mf-6_xopc0pIKFSWlpxVfEvgMs6Iq-3dFx0fJshKbRgqhVAKVJCBbzLaGsdhKOEedptp4Ir7BG0j3w0VttYJ-xjfujyN91NPUwwfA/s1600/Peter+R+Slingsby+1914+died+58+booze+pic+is+1864.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiocCXQ5XkQ4ocLQG2-GVsE205Y6VB1AKT1FKDbE2mf-6_xopc0pIKFSWlpxVfEvgMs6Iq-3dFx0fJshKbRgqhVAKVJCBbzLaGsdhKOEedptp4Ir7BG0j3w0VttYJ-xjfujyN91NPUwwfA/s320/Peter+R+Slingsby+1914+died+58+booze+pic+is+1864.jpg" width="208" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Then I found a very sad pic of Peter R Slingsby, aged 8, with his parents. The pic was taken in 1864; poor Pete died fifty years later with a pickled liver. Not surprising the poor fella liked his pots, with a fearsome-looking poppa like that! He’s no relation of mine, either.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There was a Peter Slingsby Hubbard who died in Mexico some years ago. Seems to have been a Zorba-the-Greek type of guy; he’s no relation whatsoever.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0efCj2KDqq9F5z9NmzA2YEZFU9fXkWUy0MpuJE3yCNgzzlJA2pe-x7mi55mjadAmCmfzUfb0PZVIvBs3RCVFk9M7-Jc94wSq0qV7C1FvcnAE7KoFAh68zjPnXW2JaB-LiHcvZb9-Dv-k/s1600/Tom+Slingsby,+ISAF+Rolex+Wolrld+Sailor+of+the+Year+2010+male+winner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0efCj2KDqq9F5z9NmzA2YEZFU9fXkWUy0MpuJE3yCNgzzlJA2pe-x7mi55mjadAmCmfzUfb0PZVIvBs3RCVFk9M7-Jc94wSq0qV7C1FvcnAE7KoFAh68zjPnXW2JaB-LiHcvZb9-Dv-k/s320/Tom+Slingsby,+ISAF+Rolex+Wolrld+Sailor+of+the+Year+2010+male+winner.jpg" width="287" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Tom Slingsby, Ozzie Yottie</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There were others who share my surname, but they are all imposters. There was Minor H. Slingsby of Seattle (Minor? Yeah, that’s what it says). There is Tom Slingsby, an Ozzie Yottie who does great things in small boats, but he’s not as good looking as my son Thomas. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The other Tom Slingsby I found was the schoolmaster in ‘Bracebridge Hall’ by Washington Irving. Mr Irving describes him thus: ‘Among the worthies of the village ... is one who has struck my fancy so much that I have thought him worthy of a separate notice. It is Slingsby, the </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">schoolmaster, a thin, elderly man, rather threadbare and slovenly, somewhat indolent in manner, and with an easy, good-humoured look, not often met with in his craft.’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>No relation, either.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Zane Slingsby is a disgraced former police officer from Darwin Australia who imposed himself in unsuitable ways upon a female prisoner or two. He’s absolutely definitely never ever any relation ever. Never.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So who were the real Slingsbys? Well, in historical order, there was Knight Slingsby, 1250; his mouldering bones lie in a church somewhere.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Sir Henry wondering <br />what it’s going to be <br />like to be an angel</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Later some of my lot distinguished themselves at another level. Sir Henry Slingsby’s pic pops up in my ‘Images’; he was an enthusiastic fan of King Charles I, but, like so many in his time, found that he was supporting the losing team, and lost his head in the Tower of London. His daughter Barbara also makes the Images cut; she looks just like my Great Aunt Agnes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Sir Henry’s son Sir Robert kept his head, and became Comptroller of the Navy; he was a colonel and even rated a mention by Samuel Pepys in his famous diary: ‘25 Sept 1660: To the office, where Sir W. Batten, Collonell Slingsby and I sat a while .... and afterwards did send for a cupp of tee (a China drink) of which I never had drank before ...’</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>These rather more toffee Slingsbys had in earlier times linked up with some upper class twits known as Scrivens, and this resulted in the establishment of a dorpie called Slingsby. Baine’s 1823 Directory of the County of York says: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">‘<a href="http://triffitt.wordpress.com/saarah-slingsby/" target="_blank">SLINGSBY</a>, a parish in the wapentake of Rydale; 6 miles WNW. of Malton; is situated on an extensive beautiful plain, and on an ancient Roman road, formerly a Roman station ... the castle was partly re-built by Sir C. Cavendish, in 1603, but not finished.’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>My friend <a href="https://plus.google.com/108398969279284691808/posts" target="_blank">Amida Johns</a> expressed scepticism about the existence of such a place; I rest my case with these two pics, one of a grotty old barn that is currently for sale in Slingsby, and the other is a puppet of Peter Rabbit at the <a href="http://www.slingsbyschool.org/2013/05/owl-did-they-do-that-slingsby-scarecrows-are-back-2/" target="_blank">Slingsby Primary School</a>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Which set me in mind to google Amida. Good heavens! She has over 1 million Google entries to my potty little 260 thousand ... amongst her ‘images’ was this early ancestor of hers, but more importantly I found these wonderful paintings by Amida – she really is a very accomplished botanical artist!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There are a couple of other claims to fame. Fred Slingsby founded <a href="http://www.slingsby.co.uk/%E2%80%8E" target="_blank">Slingsby Sailplanes</a>, in Kirbymoorside, Yorkshire, manufacturers of some of the most famous gliders in the world; but the Slingsbys I really like most are the last two.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>First of these is William Cecil Slingsby. Bill was a notable climber of Norwegian peaks, he even has a glacier named after him (Slingsbybreen). He’s the guy who introduced skiing to Switzerland (’strue!); ‘<a href="http://www.mountain-environment.com/slingsby.html" target="_blank">Mountain environment</a>’ writes of him: ‘... he visited the country (Norway) over twenty times in the period 1872 to 1921. His first visit was at the age of 23. At a time when few mountains had been climbed, he proved to be a mountaineering pioneer and opened new passages through the mountains and made many first ascents. Slingsby’s first ascent of Store Skagatølstind or Storen in 1876 is probably his finest achievement. Today the route, which Slingsby, Mohn and Knut Lykken made from Vetti Gard, is very challenging because of its length and glacial approach to Mohns Skar as the glacier “Slingsbybreen” has receded from the upper reaches of the skar (col). The final section is an exposed final grade 2 scramble to the summit of Norway's third highest summit - a section which Slingsby made alone.’</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: start;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Above, looking west through Rauddalen with the snow covered summits of Mjølkedalstinden (left) and Rauddalstind (right). Slingsby made the first ascent of Mjølkedalstinden in 1881.</span></i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Second is Arthur Morris Slingsby, who sadly lost his life in WWI. The <a href="http://www.yrc.org.uk/yrcweb/index.php/journal/vols1-5/57-vol4-cat/no14/229-v4n14p255" target="_blank">Yorkshire Rambler’s Club</a> writes:</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYXwluMWmoFP8WQKr6vrRiwvalIZgbmPza-FAxUi2Syv2idTZhlq-2AeOyLv9UrBti9EE-VshFzyMD37QaszJsg3i6jwWAvl4wxOWiWqMEz91W83Fqhqn-94iDHYEGmGS7YSVkJwrj04M/s1600/Arthur+Morris+Slingsby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYXwluMWmoFP8WQKr6vrRiwvalIZgbmPza-FAxUi2Syv2idTZhlq-2AeOyLv9UrBti9EE-VshFzyMD37QaszJsg3i6jwWAvl4wxOWiWqMEz91W83Fqhqn-94iDHYEGmGS7YSVkJwrj04M/s320/Arthur+Morris+Slingsby.jpg" width="214" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>‘In 1909 he ... explored the unknown maze of the Eastern Karakoram. They crossed the main range in June by the Saltoro Pass (18 200 ft), and discovered the immense Siachen Glacier, 48 miles long, and to their astonishment piercing the main range, and a feeder of the Indus basin. The problem of escape from the Saltoro valleys was solved by Slingsby, who discovered the Chulung La (18 300 ft). Longstaff (his companion) writes – </span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">“... The glacier soon degenerated into a maze of crevasses concealed by a deceptive covering of new snow, through which the heavily laden coolies were constantly breaking. I quite expected we should have to spend the night on the Korisa Glacier, but just as it got dark Slingsby found a way off through difficult séracs.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In 1911 Slingsby set off to conquer Gahrwal (25 400 feet: 7742m). He lead his party up 1 500 ft of especial difficulty during 11½ hours. For five hours he, unaided, hacked coal-scuttle steps in hard ice, hauling up heavily laden coolies, and all this herculean work was done in the thin air of 20 000 ft above sea level. Thanks to Mr. C. F. Meade, the col (21 000 ft) up which he dragged his men will always be known as the “Slingsby Pass”.’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>So there you are, Amida. Not only a village and a castle, but a glacier and a 21 000ft high pass, too!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And I found Mike Dexter’s startlingly beautiful <a href="http://mikedexter.com/" target="_blank">website</a>. You should visit it, too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kaartman, 3 November 2013</span><br />
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<br />Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-88768120989007931402013-10-07T10:28:00.001+02:002013-10-07T10:28:04.475+02:00Clocking the Daisies<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Got a request the other day to answer a Q & A for a magazine article. One of the questions asked how we did our map research. We gave the short answer; here’s the long one.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It was a dark and stormy day when we woke up somewhere in the Agter-Pakhuis. The plan was to head west and north, to research the land beyond the Doring River for an extension to the touring map of the Cederberg. It’s harsh country out there – ever been to Loeriesfontein in high summer?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Don’t go there in summer, high or low. We resolved to research the area in spring, in the time of the daisies. There’d be lots of lovelies to look at, in between clocking the miles.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It was a dark and stormy day when we woke up. Our destination was Vanrhynsdorp, but many miles of slippery Brandberg Pass lay between us. We visited our neighbours instead, for a mid-morning rugby match. The recent one that that French ref stuffed up so badly. I made a mental note to forgive my daughters-in-law if they did not name a future grandchild ‘Bismarck’. It was too early for beer, but by the time we left it was still lightly raining.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Rain near Urionskraal; rain on the Knersvlakte: miles and miles of b all</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">We slipped over the Brandberg Pass and wolfed down a Wimpy at Klawer. At Vanrhynsdorp it was still a dark and stormy day. There wasn’t a daisy in sight, but they’ve got the biggest gaol in the country there. Helluva place. We clocked in to a bee-n-bee called Riverside Palms, quite far from the gaol. Some palms, no rivers. Hit the road to Koebee.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>‘Koebee’ means the ‘place of fighting’. You can’t argue with that. The roads were dark, wet, slippery. The Koebee Pass is very steep, with a wrong-way camber, a yawning chasm. The road wound ever upwards, disappearing into mist. We turned back, took the Urionskraal road instead.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Fynbos in the rain; and daisies at last!</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We clocked no daisies on that road, but there were several drunks. Not much to do on a rainy Saturday in Urionskraal. The road ended after a sweet little pass. Gorgeous fynbos glowed in the mist. Pendoringkraal, said the name on the gate. It’s not translatable, said the dictionary. We turned back and cheered ourselves up in a Vanrhynsdorp pub, while WP trashed the Blou Bulle. What a pleasure.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Riverside Palms was quite warm and cosy. Outside the rain dribbled ever onwards. We hit the highway to Nieuwoudtville, up Vanrhyn’s Pass, wondering who he was. The Knersvlakte was bare, no daisies to be clocked at all. We swung off the R27 where the sign said ‘Oorlogskloof’. You can’t argue with that, either.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The sign also said, ‘No Entry Without Permit’. We drove in, looking for a man with permits for us. Eleven kilometres later we turned around at an empty entrance arch. One of those thatchy, bushveld things that mark Nature Reserves. In RSA, if you don’t have thatch on your gate, it’s not a proper reserve. It was freezing cold, mist whipping through the sopping wet bossies, not a daisy in sight. The road was bad beyond reason.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">L to R: Nieuwoudtville waterfall; Elmarie se Plek; Owls on the road</span><br /><span style="font-size: small;">Photos by Jeanne Ward</span></span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Elmarie se Plek welcomed us at Nieuwoudtville. It’s the old school boarding house, but we clocked in anyway. Chilly, but well-enough appointed. The dorm beds even had electric blankets; the TV had one channel. We dumped our gear and set off in the mist; the sign said ‘Perdekraal’. We saw owls and empty houses. We tried to remember the ghastly tale of Doggy-Dog Ruiters and his murderous mates; we passed a stork, then the road ended in a gate. ‘Absolutely No Entry’ said the friendly sign. We discovered a diversion to the left. Die Hel Pass, apparently. No signs, only an open gate.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>‘A car fell off there last month,’ the lady at the info office had said. We found low gear and headed down. The road was steep, but we did not fall off. There were kokerboom. Quiver trees, if you didn’t know. An hour later we bottomed out. Back in the Knersvlakte. It means gnashing flats, as in teeth. Sheep there were, no daisies. A few pendoring trees. More and more pendoring trees – omigod, we oathed, we’re in a river bed. The ruts ahead got deeper. We gnashed the gears, put foot, clocked up to 60 as we sped over the drying mud.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Phew, we said, emerging on solid ground once more. No human beings for forty kays, no water or food in car, could have been tricky there.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8J2oihGup_N0htvVsao4RIBNiis2o2fIjIbNWpMJAISs2vtcSzRh612e2yABvrSsgHinFmjgRAU7TJEoIRMHebwlYKtKmVZdnbPH8FRJg8PLBQ4C6U8Oj4POi_m_X7tlh87TczARDTHY/s1600/05+loeries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8J2oihGup_N0htvVsao4RIBNiis2o2fIjIbNWpMJAISs2vtcSzRh612e2yABvrSsgHinFmjgRAU7TJEoIRMHebwlYKtKmVZdnbPH8FRJg8PLBQ4C6U8Oj4POi_m_X7tlh87TczARDTHY/s640/05+loeries.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Loeriesfontein: wall to wall flowers and windpompe</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>But on the third day there was sunshine and daisies. We put foot for Loeriesfontein, a revelation. Prettiest place you ever saw, wall-to-wall daisies absolutely everywhere, even in the empty parking lots. And the pride of Loeriesfontein – the Windpomp-Museum.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbwVrgKR7evMsNfjt26GSX-y7sDngULP7QmTSt_i5TvKqh1BnJMmtJKIvSThfNONxDNDF5mNQSrtVcLm3m9kOqU2EqGvJOtjoks-v_HvXsJrSJuipiWYJAfBcvQHayDlWp1CpjYCvekd8/s1600/04+history.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbwVrgKR7evMsNfjt26GSX-y7sDngULP7QmTSt_i5TvKqh1BnJMmtJKIvSThfNONxDNDF5mNQSrtVcLm3m9kOqU2EqGvJOtjoks-v_HvXsJrSJuipiWYJAfBcvQHayDlWp1CpjYCvekd8/s640/04+history.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">History in the countryside: a Nieuwoudtville Boer met sy roer, and a railway bus at Loeriesfontein</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>That was really interesting, we enjoyed that. We marked it on the map and sped south, a long dry drag full of gorgeous daisies, all the way past Koppieskraal to Vosfontein and Beeswater. We turned off and passed Naresie – o what a pretty sight it was – to Slaaiakker and Heitoes and back to the R27. Thirty minutes to Calvinia became two hours as the rygoes got us, one after the other. Daisies everywhere, even at Doega. Circled back through Gannabos; if you thought you’d seen kokerboom before, well, you hadn’t really until you got to Gannabos.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjYYzH69SxTpsHqRRzvGuTD7SJJv4XjCXeG2BZ2V9AM1SlE3yq6rBMCgL7owyIkI2JcSoU79CuWRUglvE6M10eeB2kaS4Txusoz18lJAAizvmcFGd4dUW6uxvWphs06-GR83qBI0cRWzY/s1600/07+flowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjYYzH69SxTpsHqRRzvGuTD7SJJv4XjCXeG2BZ2V9AM1SlE3yq6rBMCgL7owyIkI2JcSoU79CuWRUglvE6M10eeB2kaS4Txusoz18lJAAizvmcFGd4dUW6uxvWphs06-GR83qBI0cRWzY/s640/07+flowers.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Wash-day at Lokenburg; flowers at Papkuilsfontein</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>On the fourth day we headed south. We found a wondrous place called Papkuilsfontein, but we can sadly say little about the Rietjiehuis Ecolodge because the gate was locked. Another sign said Lokenburg, so we followed it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Confession time follows. There was a farm gate. Under the fence next to the gate was a trap. An iron thing, it had drop-doors at both ends, released by a pressure plate in the middle. If you were a beastie who can’t open gates, it was the only way through the fine-mesh fence. Porcupines clearly can’t, because there were a couple of quills in the trap.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPAPkWq0-X8hFfAimjngkEd_5s1KeOjjGjzG_l13pEDVPMwemNZU2StRzg2POufpi5hV57lm1kPhu50hhL9Uz8kTt7JQ5VTGJDoq-oPtw0IMa6gL7XXT448YMIr3RD5aKqAfwT5RCokjQ/s1600/06+animals.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPAPkWq0-X8hFfAimjngkEd_5s1KeOjjGjzG_l13pEDVPMwemNZU2StRzg2POufpi5hV57lm1kPhu50hhL9Uz8kTt7JQ5VTGJDoq-oPtw0IMa6gL7XXT448YMIr3RD5aKqAfwT5RCokjQ/s640/06+animals.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Animal rights: donkeys waiting for hay; a goat waiting for The Flood</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>If you were a terrified beastie stuck in a trap without food or water, maybe for days at a time, you would have sprung that trap too. After a brief discussion, we marked it. With human scent. That’s enough information about that.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Our animal rights proclivities satisfied, we headed south in gathering sunshine. Daisies, daisies everywhere; we clocked them all.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJlSd_LdR9NaaHhwQc0hkdp8aCM_2vw06khkcO-mGZImRdUoJgiJ5zj6cTmYKZD449Fhid1WQWs_QTPoW33eaaXvhJhTFCRmIahhByCQzk0xvSb7MS7jAcHvIBThf6lDSfh4pGy9VyHgo/s1600/08+bands.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJlSd_LdR9NaaHhwQc0hkdp8aCM_2vw06khkcO-mGZImRdUoJgiJ5zj6cTmYKZD449Fhid1WQWs_QTPoW33eaaXvhJhTFCRmIahhByCQzk0xvSb7MS7jAcHvIBThf6lDSfh4pGy9VyHgo/s640/08+bands.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The Wupperthal Band, and the Kokerboom Forest</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>On the fifth day we were welcomed to Wupperthal by a brass band and the President of the Moravian Church of South Africa, but we’ve written about that elsewhere.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Now you know all about how we research a map. A touring map, that is. While clocking the daisies, too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kaartman, Oct 7 2013: Happy birthday, Arch!</span>Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-23271260030133070942013-09-08T08:00:00.001+02:002013-09-08T22:06:54.139+02:00A la Kaart<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">After two fairly solid years of cartographing the Cederberg (with the occasional break here and there to St Lucia and Scotland and other parts north) one of the things that the Kaartmans had promised themselves was a day off enjoying the wonders of Cape Point – the whales, the sweet honey-scented serrurias, the languid bontebok, the saurian ostriches. The gorgeous spring day dawned bright, clear and windless, and so it was done. After breakfast, after a short burst of daily menial tasks, after the dogs were walked we picked up a pack of Woollies sarmies and headed south.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We took coffee in a flask, of course, a small cask of dry white and even a tiny box of juice. We stop-started through Kalk Bay. We tried to avoid even looking at Fish Hoek Main Road, and then at last we were truly free, barrelling down one of the finest drives in the world, ocean sparkling on our left, mountain golden with springtime conebushes on our right.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Past the naval guns, and then into Simon’s Town.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“We forgot the pie shop,” Mrs Kaartman. “The Simon’s Town pie shop.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I sighed. “We did, indeed,” I sighed again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“We could always eat the sarmies for supper,” she said.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The day brightened. “Or even the pies,” I said. “The rosemary and lamb pie – that would be great for supper.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Or lunch,” she said. “Let’s get the pies, then decide.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We did a u-turn into the loading bay. The one outside the pie shop.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We bought the pies. They were hot, and the little white cake-boxy thing filled the car with delicious scents. Rosemary and lamb. Chicken and feta.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“We could each have a half of each,” we both said. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“And keep the sarmies for supper.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The thought made our mouths water. We ate the packets of chips we had bought with the Woollies sarmies, as Froggy Pond sped by. False Bay was a sparkly blue; the mountains were gentle and full of flowers.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“What’s the Black Marlin restaurant like?” asked Mrs K. “The one at Miller’s Point.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I think it’s got a good reputation,” I replied. I paused. The dashboard clock said ‘12:45’. “Why?” I asked. “Do you think we should have lunch there?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“We’ve got hot pies,” murmered Mrs K. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“And sarmies,” I said.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Why don’t we give it a try?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“We could eat the pies for supper.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“And the sarmies for lunch tomorrow.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We turned off, into the long parking area that precedes the Black Marlin. It was nearly empty. We strolled through the restaurant – there’s a long outdoor part, shaded wooden tables on grass with a sparkly view of the bay. Then there’s a raised deck. All the tables were reserved there; small reddish flags fluttered on each. At the end of the deck was the indoor part. It was similarly adorned. And reserved.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A waiter appeared. He was a dead ringer for Tito Mboweni. I nearly called him Tito, but his name-tag said Joshua. “Are you all booked?” we asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Function,” he said, waving airily around the restaurant. “I can serve you at the tables on the grass.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Great,” we said. The service was quick, smooth, seamless. A good dry white, a good light beer, delicious seafood. The sea was sparkly. Little black and red fishing boats chugged up and down, pursued by clouds of seagulls. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The grub was great. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Before we left five buses arrived. For the function. The small red flags belonged to Turkey. At least two hundred Turks filed past us, tourists, hungry, all staring shamelessly at our deliciously-loaded plates.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Replete, we left. We never got to Cape Point. We had coffee from our flask at the roadside, watching the sparkly sea, and then went home for a long kip.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We ate the pies for supper. Later, we ate the sarmies, too. The map, you see, was finished.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;">– </span>Kaartman, September 2013. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Happy birthday, Joy!</span>Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-66752783070373440552013-09-05T14:29:00.000+02:002013-09-05T14:29:30.480+02:00Great Excitement over New Map ...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrXNuPaFJyfA99qYP2m9-jyuV-RiTih7gKOXziQ-QxQxO-eKNNQN43VL5pl-l5zhX3yFFJ4UP_PbWNEFNzhZmVSD37p3Byb15csrh_Sa-07lU4sXAJIX1bYXoMY4muvZ0LDJbK733SMaw/s1600/0+burger+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrXNuPaFJyfA99qYP2m9-jyuV-RiTih7gKOXziQ-QxQxO-eKNNQN43VL5pl-l5zhX3yFFJ4UP_PbWNEFNzhZmVSD37p3Byb15csrh_Sa-07lU4sXAJIX1bYXoMY4muvZ0LDJbK733SMaw/s640/0+burger+1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: right;"><i>Photo by Sonja Loots</i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Great Excitement over New Ma</span></b><span style="font-size: large;"><b>p</b> ...is th</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">e caption on Pieter Malan’s review of ‘<a href="http://www.slingsbymaps.com/cederberg-hiking.aspx" target="_blank">Hike the Cederberg</a>’ in Die Burger’s ‘Buite’ supplement of Tuesday 3rd September. The Kaartmans are in turn greatly excited by Pieter’s many kind words! Here’s a summary ...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Pieter began by pointing out that the ‘GPS brigade’ will not understand the ecstasy of the ‘map-and-compass’ users at the appearance of a new climbers’ map. “If you are one of those GPS-peepers, ‘taffies’,” says Pieter; “see you at the next swimming hole. If you can find it ...”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“The new map has no equal ... it does for Cederberg mapping what nylon did for climbers’ tents!” – but Pieter warns that you should not confuse it with the touring map, ‘Explore the Cederberg’ – the hiking map is a different, much more detailed animal altogether.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s clear, Pieter rightly says, that Slingsby maps do not ‘crib’ information from other maps, hence all the many mistakes in older maps of the Cederberg have been corrected, not repeated. He gives us a feather in our caps for this, “’n kleine pouveer van ’n pluimpie in Slingsby se laphoed ...” – love that lekker taal! – but Pieter reserves his highest praise “for the work the Kaartman has done with the collection and preservation of almost-forgotten placenames; for that he deserves a jet-black Wupperthal eagle feather ...”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Wragtig.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We’re pleased too that Pieter mentions the huge contributions made by Rudolf Andrag and Alex Basson, as well as those of all the many people who responded to the <a href="http://cederbergmap.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Cederberg map blog</a>. We’ll be posting some news of the various launches on that blog once we have been to Clanwilliam on 13th September.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Pieter ends by mentioning the purists, who don’t like detailed maps that might lead the ‘hoi polloi’ to their favourite spots but, as he says, for heaven’s sake, there is more than enough Wilderness out there for everyone ...</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh18S_AZ0jO8ONRAEJfFTkin9TDAKM00NSoAWc55rZYQgoIeh85aZWE37MYqi4Yr03NsHBbtoeJRADoNfwbpDhmkN2KzK-710F0INcGDRr6PzUPPo98A48ymskBNkGGN7YYgB1xCmuyxvU/s1600/0+burger+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh18S_AZ0jO8ONRAEJfFTkin9TDAKM00NSoAWc55rZYQgoIeh85aZWE37MYqi4Yr03NsHBbtoeJRADoNfwbpDhmkN2KzK-710F0INcGDRr6PzUPPo98A48ymskBNkGGN7YYgB1xCmuyxvU/s640/0+burger+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: right;"><i>Photo by Sonja Loots</i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Thanks for the bouquets, Pieter. We collected some more on our return from the map launch at the MCSA clubhouse in Cape Town. We gave a lift to a gentleman named Eric, who announced that he was a devoted fan. What’s more, he said, he still had a set of the original Slingsby Drakensberg maps, the ones that Ezemvelo KwaZulu Wildlife shamelessly copied without acknowledgment.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Whenever I go to the MCSA’s Drakensberg meet,” Eric said, “there are always a couple of people there with original Slingsby’s – and they guard them with their lives!”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And then, as always always always happens when the Kaartmans have a function at the MCSA, we were asked if we did not still have, just maybe, lurking away in the bottom of a cupboard, a few copies of those original Drakensberg maps ...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>May ‘Hike the Cederberg’ bring you all just as much lasting pleasure; and if you don’t have one yet, you’d better <a href="http://www.slingsbymaps.com/cederberg-hiking.aspx" target="_blank">grab your First Edition copy</a> while you still can!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">– Kaartman, 5 September 2013: happy birthday, Liz!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-86822622864880287362013-07-30T13:00:00.002+02:002013-08-06T07:39:27.444+02:00Spring is popping everywhere ...<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The Kaartmans have just returned from a brief break at <a href="http://www.travellersrest.co.za/">Sevilla</a>, in the Agter-Pakhuis, where the spring flowers have to be seen to be believed ... this is going to be one of the GREAT YEARS for spring flowers, from the Cederberg up to Namaqualand, so if you have not booked already .... well, you’re probably too late!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">To celebrate we have put together a DVD with over 1400 images of Cape Flowers, gathered on our mapping travels around the countryside. Most are pretty high-res [from 6 to 16 megapixels] and all we’ve done to them is changed the file names to reflect </span><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">the plant’s family name</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">the genus of the plant</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">the species</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">AND ... the common name</span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We hope most of our identifications are correct, and we’d love your feedback if not. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The DVD’s make a great screensaver [full instructions on the disk] or simply a neat way to identify those gorgeous beauties out there. You can buy one online for only R100 – click on the word <a href="http://www.slingsbymaps.com/EFT-enquiry.aspx">EFT</a> to buy by <a href="http://www.slingsbymaps.com/EFT-enquiry.aspx">EFT</a> [don’t forget to add R20 for postage]; you can also buy by credit card, click on the <a href="http://www.slingsbymaps.com/dvd-flowers.aspx">Add to Cart</a> button ....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">[By the way it is a DVD even tho the pic above says 'CD' ...]</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Whet your appetite with the pics below ....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kaartman, July 2013</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-58869957035132870582013-05-29T11:02:00.000+02:002013-05-29T18:45:57.425+02:00Bakkrans<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Bakkrans: click on map to enlarge</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Bakkrans is not a resort, it’s an experience, a dip into history at several levels. There’s the recent past, the bywoners who’ve been gone for about forty years. It’s their footprint upon the landscape, maybe a century or two old, that is Bakkrans – their cottages, their stone walls, their name for the place. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Bakkrans cottages:</span></i><i style="font-size: x-large;"> </i><span style="font-size: small;">pics by <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/113761014908516697129/CedarbergMay13?authkey=Gv1sRgCKu69r2Ak7-KHg&feat=email" target="_blank">David Slingsby</a></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">We don’t know the Khoi herders’ name for Bakkrans, and their traces are few – some ochre-red handprints, a scatter of broken pottery. They were here for a millennium or two, camping amongst these weathered boulders, passing by with their fat-tailed sheep. They displaced or murdered or merged with – who knows? – the San. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvx_vM7Erpe7kll9PKairXG_EGOKXDIqnY96oZ3OhEc4cPRNMIxOIxu33Rp44TvkJ0sOggonZrBw5TRfkVYI7eLE5rHG3C164rxh4iVKx1qonGdwbjDka_Rl4f2TuN3P8hJ_cihveuZM/s1600/1+paintings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvx_vM7Erpe7kll9PKairXG_EGOKXDIqnY96oZ3OhEc4cPRNMIxOIxu33Rp44TvkJ0sOggonZrBw5TRfkVYI7eLE5rHG3C164rxh4iVKx1qonGdwbjDka_Rl4f2TuN3P8hJ_cihveuZM/s640/1+paintings.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">left:<i> Khoi handprints; </i>centre:<i> the Mannetjie; </i><br />right:<i> a rare San polychrome </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">pics by David Slingsby</span><span style="font-size: large; font-style: italic;"> </span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The San were here for perhaps eight thousand years – before that the climate might have been too cold. They saw the Bakkrans itself, the rocky overhangs, the massive, eroded boulders exactly as we do today. Only the stone walls, the little buildings, the jeep tracks, Wynand du Preez’s apple tree and the name itself – Bakkrans – would be strange to them. They left their astonishing legacy of rock art in hundreds of rocky shelters, or simply upon the giant boulders amongst which they hunted game that was probably richer in species then. There are elephants in the rock art, even a few rhino and one or two lions. At times it was wetter than today, at other times during those eight millennia it was drier, and colder. The vegetation was much the same as we see it now, with occasional invasion and retreat of species as the climate fluctuated.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Bakkrans wildlife: Mountain zebra; Tok-tokkie; Steenbokkie<br />The Grey rhebuck [bottom right] was taken on the road home</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">pics: David Slingsby</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Arrie Beukes is your guide at Bakkrans. Soft-spoken, gentle, one of the best Landrover drivers in the world, 74-year old Arrie has lived in the area all his life; he knew the last of the du Preez who scratched a living here. Arrie built many of the roads at Bakkrans: perhaps that’s why he drives on them so respectfully. Arrie built the road down into the Mooibergvlakte, and Arrie discovered the fossils, and that’s where we leave the human history very far behind.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrDt0zTwQkViFzTKCC7elyzx_5pTQk6l7dTq8JvtETSRTFM4CV6W3JwtlFYm9DvWJHsyIW7eeV3aieQx4LfJZ_nKZuK9_jLrR12Xvkx9cpD3hkZpbXGifmdis0O8rh0MLldfK_XvL3RmY/s1600/3+arrie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrDt0zTwQkViFzTKCC7elyzx_5pTQk6l7dTq8JvtETSRTFM4CV6W3JwtlFYm9DvWJHsyIW7eeV3aieQx4LfJZ_nKZuK9_jLrR12Xvkx9cpD3hkZpbXGifmdis0O8rh0MLldfK_XvL3RmY/s640/3+arrie.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Arrie Beukes and his Landie</span></i><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">pic: David Slingsby</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">If we could squeeze every year into one tiny minute, then the first motor vehicle arrived at Bakkrans just seventy-five minutes ago. One day and four hours ago the first Khoi arrived; the San had perhaps been here for five days before them. But Bakkrans holds a much more ancient surprise for us. We have to wrench our minds back for an impossible 750 years at our condensed scale – or somewhere close to 400 million in reality – in a feeble, probably doomed attempt to understand the age of the fossils of Bakkrans.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This wasn’t even Africa, then. It wasn’t even Pangaea, the giant super-continent that later split into Gondwanaland and Laurasia. It was still 300 years [at our one minute-a-year scale] before the dinosaurs began. The giant view of the Tanqua that unfolds east of Bakkrans includes a sharp peak, the Skoorsteenberg. Skoorsteenberg is a geologically-famous site, a centre of 500 metre-thick lake- or ocean-floor deposits from the Permian, when the Karoo was all <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=duNCiZ2gX1U" target="_blank">“onnerwater”</a>, as David Kramer has it. The Skoorsteenberg formations are only half as old as the Bakkrans fossils.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>These are club-mosses. They represent some of the earliest land plants that emerged during the Devonian era. They shared the marshy landscape with giant dragonflies and the first half-fish half-reptile vertebrates that managed to crawl out onto the mudflats to sun themselves. <i>Archaeosigillaria</i> is their name; “traces ... have been discovered in parts of Guinea, Ghana, and Arabia, as well as in Gabon; they also occur in the Bokkeveld Series of South Africa. Fossilized plants that include Archaeosigillaria (ancient club mosses) may be traced in formations of the earlier Devonian Period in the Sahara and in South Africa (Witteberg Series).” – I quote from <a href="http://global.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/32611/Archae%20%20osigillaria" target="_blank">Britannica</a>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A stay at Bakkrans is relatively expensive, but Arrie and his Landrover remain there with you during your stay. If you don’t make use of Arrie’s superb guiding, info, and his knowledge of the area the loss will be all yours. The facilities are basic but complete – the idea is that you should gain some insight into the lives of the bywoners who built your cottage so long ago. Don’t be alarmed – you’ll get a lekker warm shower, a flush loo and a comfortable-if-narrow bed, but I have one criticism. It’s all very well living like a bywoner but us old toppies need our sleep. Why is there only one hard, thin pillow upon which to rest your ageing head? I can’t pretend to be a bywoner while I’m trying to get to sleep [Johan was horrified by this remark – he’d overlooked the problem! There will be plenty of pillows for the next round of outoppie visitors!].</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEituj2MKn9t0WHYXp2SMiH69ScSQrrTs5fe8KsdmyvNpjX5zutkaIjwERhK2aJENh5JFq6c7o71b5dVhU7V9-EMkmdhhuJRoqj5wwsMGAc7DToK5_Ku_RBVlD4A0yNE3fiv8uNoewZpYi8/s1600/6+inside.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEituj2MKn9t0WHYXp2SMiH69ScSQrrTs5fe8KsdmyvNpjX5zutkaIjwERhK2aJENh5JFq6c7o71b5dVhU7V9-EMkmdhhuJRoqj5wwsMGAc7DToK5_Ku_RBVlD4A0yNE3fiv8uNoewZpYi8/s640/6+inside.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Inside a cottage; A glimpse through the </i>kookskerm<i> door</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">pics by David Slingsby</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">There are some good short walks, stunning flowers – spring flowers as well as fynbos on the hilltops – and tremendous views, over the Tanqua to the east, over the full span of the eastern Cederberg to the west. From the right vantage point you can see from the Wolfberg Arch, to Tafelberg, Sneeukop, even to Krakadouw and the Pakhuis Pass. Even the ubiquitous Citadel peeks over the ridge that hides Wupperthal from view. There are genuine endangered mountain zebra, herds of gemsbok, and all the usual small guys, the inquisitive klipspringers, steenbokkies, dassies and the tracks and traces of aardvark, porcupine, leopard ... Baboons there are not, but the compensation is the silence. When there is no wind you can hear your campfire crackling from hundreds of metres away.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPelJxaD6VP_wgKndJ0h8flbRxCWLUzs-M6YGbVR4KhnaxroCphIpGIAxcaWCoXrUo06zt21y9Ip-qbDAuEyOA8zYFVO7Hjt1XRO7RuuipEzhqqENQDyeOqtQqiSdFBjz7jq5aRtcMPlk/s1600/7+view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPelJxaD6VP_wgKndJ0h8flbRxCWLUzs-M6YGbVR4KhnaxroCphIpGIAxcaWCoXrUo06zt21y9Ip-qbDAuEyOA8zYFVO7Hjt1XRO7RuuipEzhqqENQDyeOqtQqiSdFBjz7jq5aRtcMPlk/s640/7+view.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">View to the distant Wolfberg Arch</span></i><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">pic: David Slingsby</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Look up <a href="http://www.redcederberg.co.za/" target="_blank">Bakkrans</a> on its superb website – it’s all there, except for the “must brings”. Take extra fluffy pillows. A solar-lamp if you have one. Matches – lots. Pack your food in plastic lug-boxes that you can seal – there are lots of cheeky mice, even a couple of namtaps. The only thing you won’t need is earplugs – unless you find that the silent brilliant starlight keeps you awake ...</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfIxHE3aP8MJdhyphenhyphenkSOi4XHsV8iWPlzr0bdb27iEKVs0AFExMHsW4HbWTfgJIfY5UBnWV8ubN3wl4pZ_SHBWXTU-jkQwTlEofTWgrbKGinGChyphenhyphenqYylHKyYcs_8yt3QzLa_C52w9MVJoCQ/s1600/8+namtap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfIxHE3aP8MJdhyphenhyphenkSOi4XHsV8iWPlzr0bdb27iEKVs0AFExMHsW4HbWTfgJIfY5UBnWV8ubN3wl4pZ_SHBWXTU-jkQwTlEofTWgrbKGinGChyphenhyphenqYylHKyYcs_8yt3QzLa_C52w9MVJoCQ/s640/8+namtap.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://simple.wikipedia.org/wiki/Namtap" target="_blank">Namtap</a> or Spectacled dormouse </i><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.1875px; text-align: start;">(</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.1875px; text-align: start;">Graphiurus ocularis</span></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.1875px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">)</span><br /><span style="font-size: small;">pic courtesy of <a href="http://www.witteberg.co.za/mammals/" target="_blank">Witteberg Private Game Reserve</a></span></span></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">And when you leave, thank Johan van der Westhuizen for opening up this extraordinary dip into the past, both the recent and the really deep. Baie dankie, Johan, vir ons Kaartmans was dit ’n ware belewenis!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">– Kaartman May 2013</span>Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-25915872902527378882013-05-17T08:24:00.001+02:002013-05-17T08:24:58.254+02:00Famous Family Members<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The Kaartmans were recently surprised to find that </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>they had a tenuous familial link to one of their favourite poets .....</i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdlW_Vm7miXeyCfcQvV5ULCBsKJOyhlCPiGQgdz51NvCjKeZDy_mK3YNaXm_linaOQlJaan7wshmadGt0NJ5GxINim_4w-Hazd9aUerDjsHh68AQ5YATJWsK_ETNYOzJ3Ex9V3_95zUM4/s1600/helen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdlW_Vm7miXeyCfcQvV5ULCBsKJOyhlCPiGQgdz51NvCjKeZDy_mK3YNaXm_linaOQlJaan7wshmadGt0NJ5GxINim_4w-Hazd9aUerDjsHh68AQ5YATJWsK_ETNYOzJ3Ex9V3_95zUM4/s640/helen.jpg" width="622" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5QrHSphPt0Q" target="_blank">Aunt Helen</a></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Miss Helen Slingsby was my maiden aunt,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> And lived in a small house near a fashionable square</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Cared for by servants to the number of four.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Now when she died there was silence in heaven</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> And silence at her end of the street.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> The shutters were drawn and the undertaker wiped his feet – </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> He was aware that this sort of thing had occurred before.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> The dogs were handsomely provided for,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> But shortly afterwards the parrot died too.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> The Dresden clock continued ticking on the mantelpiece,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> And the footman sat upon the dining-table</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Holding the second housemaid on his knees – </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Who had always been so careful while her mistress lived.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">T. S. Eliot (1888-1965)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">– Kaartman, May 2013</span><br />
Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-18342801442186887592013-04-25T19:12:00.000+02:002013-04-25T22:17:27.662+02:00Self-catering [1]<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Some of the most pleasurable mapping moments happen on research trips. Mrs Kaartman and I were surprised and delighted recently when we totted up all the places we have stayed at, and found that it was nearly eighty. Self-catering joints, that is, not the less frequent family-or-friends and the very infrequent hotels. Perhaps, we thought, it’s time to share some of our accumulated knowledge of self-catering, both the rough and the smooth. Not all our stays were recent, so the occasional horrors described here might, for all we know, have cleaned up their acts in the meantime. And their kitchen shelves. Windows. Under the beds. Musty wardrobes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Not that long ago self-catering “chalets” [who concocted that awful name?] were very much a hit-or-miss affair. Some were wonderful, others were extremely basic, hardly more than mountain huts. Time was when you always had to supply your own bedding, and you collected the cutlery in a wooden tray from the farmhouse back door. Before you were allowed to leave, every last teaspoon was counted, every cracked glass charged for. Most places have improved a great deal, but there are a few things to watch out for.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mrs K, for example, always checks whether there is a top-sheet under the duvets. If there is, a fleeting look of distrust attends her careful inspection of the duvets themselves. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“If there is a sheet,” she wisely avers, “they might wash just the sheet after each guest, and not the duvet covers.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We always take our own duvets on our trips, just in case.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Four of our favourites [see URL's below]: <br />clockwise from top left:<br />Baviaanskloof : Key by Katrien; Cederberg: Jamaka<br />Kogelberg: Oudebos; De Vlugt: Gykonna</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In many quarters it is still probable that you will encounter single-ply toilet paper. Even the larniest-of-larnie ten-star resorts in the Cederberg puts single-ply into their loos, can you believe. This false economy [because your paying guests will simply use twice as much] is sometimes taken to extremes, with improbable brand-names like “Golden Ring” and “Butt-Soft” [I kid you not]. The latter two are made of a grey kind of blotting paper that instantly disintegrates at a touch, let alone a wipe. Once again, it’s a serious false economy, because you have to destroy at least the first third of the roll while trying to break through the glue-spot that prevents it from unwinding.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We always take a few rolls of decent double-ply on a trip, and so should you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Another old favourite is to equip the kitchens with a pallid, yellowish liquid that is supposed to be used for washing up. You will use most of the bottle to create a single foamy bubble, let alone help you scrub fried egg off the non-non-stick frying pan with last year’s brillo-pad. The civilized places provide good old healthy-looking green washing-up liquid with a recognizable brand name; you should take your own, just in case. We always do.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A noticeable feature of almost every SC [as the trade know them] is the fridge. Very noticeable, in fact. So far, out of nearly 80 places we’ve stayed in, the only one we’ve not had to turn off at night is the one at Daisy Cottage, Traveller’s Rest. A night free of gurgles, grunts, belches and sudden impromptu high-pitched humming is what one prefers out in the gorgeous silence of the countryside, we feel.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mind you, Daisy shares a different endearing feature with others we have known. It has a longspan metal roof; in those Agter-Pakhuis temperature ranges from 0° to 40°+ the roof spends all day and much of the night expanding and contracting with pops, groans and squeaks that remind one of the Titanic’s awful death-throes minutes before she plunged into oblivion. We love it. Daisy talks to us, reminding us of happy times.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Another feature of SC fridges is that they are usually set much too high. Open the door and turn the little dial down to 3 or 4 if you prefer your milk unfrozen in the morning. A very undesirable consequence of a deep-freezing fridge, as Mr Kaartman discovered when preparing his evening Scotch on the rocks, is that the ice-cubes anneal themselves most painfully to the fingers and have to be removed with hot water.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Thinking about it, it ought to be the law that anyone wanting to open a self-catering cottage should have to pack their weekend clothes and all the food they need into the car. They must then drive around the block or local equivalent, back to their own self-catering housey, which they may then not leave, except for a swim in the dam or a walk up the koppie, until the Sunday afternoon. That way they’re almost certain to make sure that everything in the house works [even the toaster], and that it really is a “fully-equipped cottage”.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Maybe they will also discover that there is no such thing as an SC that actually leaves cupboard space for your <i>food</i>, so you spend your entire holiday with everything in bags or on the counter. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> What’s <i>wrong</i> with these guys?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We always take our own can-opener, sharp knife and pair of scissors on our trips. A long lead and a couple of multi-plugs are a good idea, too. Take your own bath towels even if they have towels. Check on the price of their wood if you want that cosy, fireside feel in winter – there are, I fear, a couple of joints deep in the country where there is no wood to be self-collected, and the price of the bagged-up green blue-gum sold at the office is, well, exploitative.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghYITCaf2bpg5YU3-mmr9CiLh2H7BTQk5ordN8Y6F7mxkrNhUYd8q0nOw0gLW4wKhK0mA1YTxqjOWMVYiHz7PHDtMsfDh_g-AK8A_dsQoGnTRgxSRu_awyJUkHXdPKH2ggUbQt7Vrf1DM/s1600/trav+mtce+redh+wate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghYITCaf2bpg5YU3-mmr9CiLh2H7BTQk5ordN8Y6F7mxkrNhUYd8q0nOw0gLW4wKhK0mA1YTxqjOWMVYiHz7PHDtMsfDh_g-AK8A_dsQoGnTRgxSRu_awyJUkHXdPKH2ggUbQt7Vrf1DM/s640/trav+mtce+redh+wate.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Four more favourites: clockwise from top left:<br />Agter-Pakhuis: Traveller’s Rest; Cederberg: Mount Ceder<br />Stanford: Waterfalls; Klein-Karoo: Red Stone Hills</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">We’ve had some damn fine cottages over the years. <a href="http://redstone.co.za/cottages/" target="_blank">Red Stone Hill’s “Ostrich Palace”</a> near Oudtshoorn – it’s an old cottage, not a real ‘paleis’ – was one of the best. <a href="http://www.williamsburgfarm.net/accommodation.htm" target="_blank">Gykonna</a> near De Vlugt was brilliant. <a href="http://nieuwoudt-farm.com/en/" target="_blank">Jamaka</a>, <a href="http://www.mountceder.co.za/" target="_blank">Mount Ceder</a>, <a href="http://www.travellersrest.co.za/" target="_blank">Traveller’s Rest</a>, <a href="http://www.capenature.co.za/reserves.htm?sm%5Br2%5D%5Bsubsection%5D=488&reserve=Kogelberg+Nature+Reserve" target="_blank">Oudebosch </a>[Kogelberg], <a href="http://www.budget-getaways.co.za/accommodation/waterfalls" target="_blank">Waterfalls</a>, <a href="http://www.baviaans.co.za/listings/baviaanskloof/accommodation" target="_blank">Baviaanskloof’s </a>‘Key by Katrien’ were amongst the best. Highlands near George was probably the worst, one of those cold places in an alien pine forest, a wooden hut with a stove and rusty chimney full of holes so you dared not make a fire, languid, uncaring service at the desk and – worst of all – just two of everything for the two of you: two teaspoons, two plates, two forks, two knives etc etc etc – as though any kitchen never needs more cutlery than the exact number of people it is serving. Unfriendly, awful, a waste of money.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Take the bad, the ugly and the very, very good, and I would say that if you spend more than R250–R300 pppn on a self-catering cottage, you are being ripped off, and I’m dying for someone to prove me wrong. Most of the very, very best come in at less than R250 ... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>That says a lot, hey.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Next time we’ll regale you with a some of the adventures the Kaartmans have enjoyed in some of them eighty little houseys. Oops, don’t read that wrong ... I mean adventures with wildlife, with floods, with funny cooking, with smoke and fire, with strange loos ... all the stuff that makes travelling such a peculiarly <i>lekker</i> thing ...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kaartman, April 201</span>3Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1140684179205920189.post-2607728493029391802013-03-01T07:37:00.002+02:002013-03-01T07:37:05.362+02:00Noordhoek Beach<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">For a good leg stretch Noordhoek Beach on a warm morning is hard to beat. The sea is freezing cold, definitely only for wet-suited surfers, but as you walk along beside it it’s like having a giant, cooling aircon right at your side. You can take dogs and horses, too, but you need an ‘Activity Card’ from the National Park to make this legal. We once met someone walking a large grey wolf there, but I don’t know whether you need a card for your wolves. You don't really need a map for the walk, but our Silvermine/Hout Bay map will help you find where to start.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Noordhoek is a beach that has always had a wild loneliness, even when there are lots of people about – maybe because once you’re clear of the usual bizarre beachfront architecture of the ‘village’ there are no human habitations for miles and miles on the landward side. The great Noordhoek wetlands, remnants of the ocean channel that once divided the Peninsula in two, are a part of the National Park and apart from occasional muggers [none for several years now] are home only to a selection of small and mostly inoffensive Cape fauna.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFiLWGM4M_0yY6qA99yzzkXTNgYaEZ-TngP2sU0eYDDaPl-TOQE-D75qgySHhRk9l_aStUuvwEouZronfI-hrp74NL1GaQl6UPN9VGNIRBfJ3hVt8MwmxOtaJmrB8PO58qsswuPiAtRtU/s1600/0+noord+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFiLWGM4M_0yY6qA99yzzkXTNgYaEZ-TngP2sU0eYDDaPl-TOQE-D75qgySHhRk9l_aStUuvwEouZronfI-hrp74NL1GaQl6UPN9VGNIRBfJ3hVt8MwmxOtaJmrB8PO58qsswuPiAtRtU/s640/0+noord+3.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">On the beach: Boomers; Birds; Babies; Blondes</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The ocean channel silted up several thousand years too soon for Captain Niels Pete Fischer Nicolayson, a Dane captaining the ss Kakapo, his first command. The Kakapo was a 663 ton schooner-rigged steel steamship built in 1898 and originally named Clarence. In 1900 she was sold to the Union Steamship Company of New Zealand, who renamed her Kakapo after a rare, flightless parrot [see below].</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>On 25th May 1900 the Kakapo, on delivery to her new owners and en route to Sydney, Australia put in to Table Bay Harbour for coal. Coaling was quick and like all ships anxious to avoid harbour dues she sailed for Australia that afternoon.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It was, of course, a wild and stormy night, with a rising Nor’wester. The seas were huge – the famous Dungeons, some of the biggest surfing waves in the world, occur off Noordhoek – and visibility was poor. Mistaking Chapmans Peak for Cape Point, the officer-of-the-watch turned hard to port and steamed up Noordhoek Beach at full power and full speed [9.5 knots].</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>663 tons moving at 9.5 knots makes an impact, and today the remains of the Kakapo lie 60 to 100 metres from the sea, depending upon tides and seasonal shifts in the beach-line. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The crew were able to climb down a rope ladder on to dry sand, but legend has it that Capt Nicolayson was too embarrassed to leave and lived on board for three years, through several failed attempts to salvage the ship. This is undoubtedly rumour; in the subsequent enquiry his ticket was suspended for three months, while a number of Kommetjie residents were prosecuted for pinching liquor [of course] and bales of fabric [why not?] from the ship.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Kakapo makes a great destination if you’ve walked from Noordhoek, and a good turn-around point for a 2-3 hr walk. The rusting old boiler still dominates the view after 113 years, but be careful where you sit with all those spiky old ribs sticking up out of the sand. She was used during the filming of the Academy Award-winning movie, ‘Ryan’s Daughter’; if you watch carefully during the Kakapo scenes you might just spot – in this story of the nineteenth century – a couple of cars flashing past on Chapmans Peak Drive.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A kakapo is a rare flightless parrot and there are only about 160 of </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">’</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">em left in the wilds of New Zealand. Most of these are apparently known by name. It’s the largest parrot known, being as large as a chicken – read all about it at <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kakapo">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kakapo</a> . However, if you want a really funny experience watch Stephen Fry pretending to be David Attenborough, and suffering extreme shock at a first-hand experience of the perversity of Mother Nature ... a must-watch at<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9T1vfsHYiKY" target="_blank"> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9T1vfsHYiKY</a> ... that should get you off those Oscar jokes for a while.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">All the best</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kaartman, 28 Feb 2013, sojourning temporarily in Betty se Baai</span>.<br />
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Die Kaartmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14995873502606621705noreply@blogger.com0