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Poachers, Ship Wrecks & Medusa’s Head: Walking the Wild Cape Coast

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thefynbosguy in South Africa,, African Adventures,, Inspirational Stories,,
October 17th, 2011 at 12:31pm
Tags: cape town hiking,

It was the frayed slippery rope - hanging forlornly from a wave-battered vertical cliff face like a hangman's noose - that finally did it for me. The saucer-wide eyes of my fellow hikers followed my gaze skyward and back down again. Apparently the rope led to the right path but we needed to find another, safer way - and fast: rain was falling, the tide was coming in and there was no way back.

(No Way Out - once you start this hike, you finish it.)

Welcome to the scariest, most exciting, most challenging walk on the Cape Peninsula: the Strandloper Hike.

(Sunny Side Up: the bright Cape sunshine turns the grey Atlantic Ocean into a tropical-looking sea.)

It begins innocuously enough in the postcard-perfect village of Hout Bay - just a 30-minute drive from Cape Town. It's a popular seaside destination, and so is neighbouring Llandudno, one of the Cape Peninsula's best beaches and a short scenic drive links the two.

(Land of Giants - huge boulders lie everywhere, seemingly tossed around by titans. Perhaps the tale of Adamster is not so far-fetched ...) 

But there is another way: behind the Sentinel and Karbonkelberg mountains that loom over Hout Bay and Llandudno a labyrinth of poachers' paths and game trails weaves its way along the coast, dipping down to touch the water's edge before lurching up onto sandpaper-rough granite cliffs. It's not a walk for the faint-hearted or the ill-prepared and you really need to know the way.

So we had Jeremy.

(Jeremy waiting for us to catch up - photo courtesy of Sandra "Cliff Face" Mallinson.)

It would be unfair to use the clumsy Apartheid racial label 'Coloured' for Jeremy: an ex-fisherman, he has lived his life in the shadow of these mountains and so did his ancestors for Jeremy is a KhoiSan, or more accurately a Strandloper, a now-vanished tribe who once lived and foraged on the Cape's beaches, feasting on mussels and crayfish. Their shellfish middens and fish traps are still visible but the ethnic integrity of Stranlopers is long gone - Jeremy's first language is Afrikaans for example - though his physical appearance leaves no doubt as to his heritage.

(Mussel Man - Jeremy collected a few of these mussels for the pot, just as his forebears did.)

He led the way, unencumbered save a twist of newspaper containing his food, and we - ten super-fit outdoors sportsmen and women - desperately tried to keep up as he jinked like a rabbit through lacerating coastal thicket and dense, strap-snagging pockets of forest. As The Fynbos Guy I like to think that I know how to walk these Cape mountains; after 10 minutes of trying to keep up with him I gave up, battered, bleeding, my breath rasping.

(Smile and Wave - climbing out of a pebbled cove - photo courtesy of Malcom The Machine.)

It is a hike of bewildering complexity with surprises at every turn: the chaotic geology means that the vegetation changes constantly with otherwise rare plants in abundance; we disturbed a crayfish poacher foraging for the pot (we waved and he waved back); and we negotiated boulder fields, cliff faces, caves and crevasses while basking in the sheer elemental nature of the place - ocean, sky, sun, wind and rock.

(Medusa's Head - a type of Euphorbia - rare on the Cape Peninsula, except here - photo courtesy of Sandra "Path Finder" Mallinson.)

(The extraordinary Spiderhead Lily - foetid-smelling to attract flies as its pollinator.)

Don't get too touchy-feely though: a lack of concentration could spell total disaster and timing is crucial - it's a low-tide-only walk and some sections necessitate a 1 ... 2 ... 3!! dash between heavy waves slapping onto exposed, ice-rink slippery rocks. You'll need a head for heights and be able to limbo dance to get through the tangled forest paths (I just ploughed through rhino-like on my hands and knees, pushing my ridiculously redundant 80litre pack ahead of me).

(Enormous, boulder-scoured granite cliffs present obstacles at every turn.)

(But there's only one way to deal with them. Oh, and don't look down)

(Note to self: leave big backpack at home next time.)

But the rewards are unparalleled: we had views so amazing all you could do was let your mouth silently flap open; dazzling flowers were juxtaposed against morbid ship wrecks; the ocean changed from gunmetal grey to sapphire blue as the sun came out and there was no sign of anyone else for 6 full hours.

(A smashed-up old wreck off the Lladudno coast - we know how it feels ...)

We finally reached Llandudno in the late afternoon - bleeding, bruised, exhausted but berserk with can't-believe-what-we've-done excitement. Jeremy just smiled, accepted our payment with thanks and after a final survey of his land, drifted off in a puff of smoke.

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Recent Comments

  • 1: 

    Looks like a seriously challenging walk! Enjoyed your story

    Professional
    botswana-safaris
    October 17th, 2011 at 3:19pm

  • 2: 

    Even though I am ‘hike’ unfit this makes me want to dust off my hiking shoes (last used for Gorilla trekking in May) and head up to Lion’s Head or Deer Park to stretch my legs, catch some fresh air and view the city from a different view point. Great blog!

    Professional Expert
    emma-harrop
    October 18th, 2011 at 3:10pm

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