The highlight of the day as we headed towards Mossel Bay was the beginning of the Garden Route. To many this route, which follows the N2 as it approaches Cape Town along the coast, is one of the most beautiful exhibitions of South Africa's best. Though hard to peg superlatives on any part of this amazing country, I won't deny that the sights the Garden Route offers are breathtaking. One of the more irresistible of these sights was Nature's Valley, a cut in the mountains at a large but quiet estuary. The brief and windy detour that it required was well worth the extra time, and we immensely enjoyed looking out over the quiet lake with its sights of feeding fish and enjoying the beach.
With the weight of many more kilometers left to go weighing heavily on my sensibilities, we tore off again, passing through countless seaside towns, including Port Elizabeth, a large harbor city that seemed to be a wonderful place to visit. Eventually we made it to Mossel Bay, which is located in the Western Cape, the province in which Cape Town lies. Like the guidebook had forwarned, the initial appearance of the Mossel Bay was very industrial, but only a slight amount of automotive perseverance brought us to downtown, which is at the end of a peninsula. There we watched as apparently warm-blooded surfers took on huge waves that crashed dangerously on nearby rocks. Though the wind was biting, Toukam and I enjoyed witnessing these great waves batter the rocks. Further along the road we found a path along the edge of a cliff over the water, where truly gigantic waves sent spray up for dozens of yards as they violently pounded the rocky cliff. It was quite a sght to see, and I could only think how appreciative ships must be for the cautioning lighthouse that stands in silent protection.
Though it was getting late, we couldn't resist the sign for an internet cafe, where I updates the blog. Having satiated our cyber appetites, our course took us to that night's lodging at the Santos Express. Quite unlike any backpackers I have ever stayed at, the Santos Express was a train, literally. At some point the owners had acquired the locomotive cars, which stand permanently stationary on a track next to a track currently in use by the town's industrial trains. When checking in, the receptionist warned us about the live track, but I had thought it had been a joke until we heard a train passing while unpacking. Enchanted with the uniqueness of our lodging and making due with its cramped nature, we got settled and decided to return to the surfer beach for dinner.
Recommended by the guide, the King Fisher restaurant sat on the second floor of a complex overlooking the ocean. Excruciatingly hungry, Toukam and I opted for a dinner more characteristic of a opulent feast. Ordering the "Full House" seafood platter, which included copious amounts of mussels, prawns, fish, crab, and calamari, we plunged headlong into Mossel Bay's best. Needless to say, we were thrilled with the meal and we left the establishment quite full and capable only of spending the rest of the night reading and taking it easy.
Waking the next day was marked with an overtone of sobriety, because it would be the day we return to square one- Cape Town. We fought off the potential discouragement from the ending of the Old School Adventure and loaded into the car after an enjoyable continental breakfast in the train. Back on N2 the Garden Route got into full steam and we were awed by sights of immaculate and endless green pastures covering rolling hills that transformed into dramatically rocky mountains in the distance. With the moving shadows from the rolling clouds constantly changing the lighting as we drove, South Africa seemed to be putting on a grand finale of beauty for two of her newest admirers.
We forwent the most direct path back to the Mother City and instead headed away from the coast, towards the Huguenot-founded town of Franschoek. Those loyal readers of the blog may recall that our first attempt at seeing the winelands was sadly sabotaged by rain, thus limiting us from seeing this town, which many consider to be the culinary capitol of all of South Africa. Ironically, it was again raining when we made our way into the foreboding mountains, taking hair-raising hairpin turns on wet cliff-sides. We refused to let the rain water-log our spirits and opted to lunch at a guidebook-recommended restaurant called Bouillabaisse.
The restaurant turned out to be wonderful, both in quality of food and aesthetics. Being a "concept" restaurant, it was small and intimate, with an open galley kitchen running the length of the rectangular diner. We were the only ones there, considering the early hour, and we enjoyed the peaceful setting to admire the funky blown-glass fish and sharp angles that added character to the place. For our food, I could do nothing but order the special for the day- unlimited mussels and frites. It was indeed as delicious and indulgent as it sounds, and I did not at all regret my decision.
At Bouillabaisse
Still having time to spare, Toukam suggested that we go to the local Huegonot museum which, though well done, was almost entirely in French, limiting my understanding. From what I could gather, the Hugonauts, a persecuted Protestant group in France, fled from their country and some of them arrived in the Cape at the bidding of the Dutch East India Company. Upon arrival, they were charged with the task of farming enough food to restock the Company's wayward ships. They were successful at this and established their own subculture in the Cape. However, despite their deep roots in the country, their French culture was somewhat muted by the future British colonists. I'm just thankful that their expertise with food survived til today.
Though we had put up a valiant attempt at stalling our return, the time came when all diversions were exhausted and we found ourselves in Cape Town's city limits, passing the eternally saddening townships as Table Mountain grew in the windshield. Cruising our way down the familiar streets, we arrived at the Backpack, our hostel for the next couple nights and the same one I stayed at prior to Toukam's arrival. For the rest of the day, we busied ourselves with internet cafes and packing before venturing out into the city for dinner at Addis in Cape, an Ethiopian restuarant we had had our eyes on for a while.
It turned out to be a wonderful place to have dinner. We ordered the set menu and were subsequently led through a panorama of no-utensiled foreign food, ranging from pork and lentils to baclava, Having had Ethiopian food only once before, it was a wondrously unique experience. After walking back to the hostel, we met some of our fellow roomies, one of whom turned out to be a huge fan of none other than Floyd McClung! He was in town for other business with a nonprofit, and he had been disappointed to not have been able to meet with Floyd. He and his friend, both from Switzerland, were very nice people and I enjoyed getting to know them before crashing to bed.
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