*Hermanus to Tamboerskloof via Franschhoek Above: the world's tiniest label - on a magnum ... answers on a postcard (blog comments will do). A big chunk of this snapshot in our 4,500 km journey was to indulge moi in sharing some wine with Francois. Saturday was dedicated to heading over to Paarl from Franschhoek to revel in a bit of bacchanalia. This had been supposed to be to thank Francois (Haasbroek) for his generosity the previous time we met at his temporary (winery) home at the De Meye Wine Estate near Klapmuts. He was generous with his time accorded to a couple of wine lovers with few credentials. When I say time I mean half a morning and a good deal of an afternoon. And in that time we tasted a dozen wines. Not just a whiff and a sip but a decent proper go at each one, a proper slug. But two people[1] having a proper slug left most of the 12 bottles, to all intents and purposes, full. So then, just as Shan and I were about to drive off, Francois appeared bearing a large box. In it were the remains of the 12 bottles; at least 8 litres of very fine wine indeed. He insisted we take it and we delighted our relatives in Hermanus for more than a week with his generous gift. We then conducted a protracted intermittent conversation about acquiring a proper consignment of his 2017 Syrah that was soon to be bottled. However, even once it had been bottled, there was an issue with the labels. Apparently these had to come from some wizard in Oz and there was difficulty with the shipping. So I managed to get him to agree that I could make up a label just for my bottles so that I could transport them to the UK. Having been labelled and photographed a mutual friend let it be known that, in her opinion, the labels cheapened the wine. Perhaps that was true, and you can be the judge, but Francois was quick to make it known that I could design his labels "any time", bless him. Above: [l-r] a picture taken by Shan at De Meye in November 2021; one of the offending bottles, now in the UK, waiting be drunk along with some perhaps more soberly labelled bottles from Francois' cellars. Getting to Paarl Shan was really keen that we travel via Sir Lowry's Pass to Franschhoek where we'd be staying for the two nights on either side of our Paarl excursion to Noop[2]. The obvious way to make the journey from Hermanus was via the Franschhoek Pass, which was my preference, particularly as it's one of the most beautiful passes in Southern Africa. "But I want Sián and Roger to experience the view over the Cape Flats to Cape Town as we crest the mountains at the top of Sir Lowry's," she argued. Shan won. The flipping roads department had only closed the Franschhoek Pass for the whole of February, hadn't they? They must have known I was coming! Of course I have to concede that the view from the top of Sir Lowry's is pretty spectacular the first time you see it. I think Siån and Roger were suitably impressed. Franschhoek, as with many other destinations in South Africa (and indeed the world), has changed almost beyond recognition in the last few decades. Not always for the better to my mind. Traffic is rather hectic for starters. Fortunately we could ditch our car at our Guest House and reach the centre of town via a reasonably gentle walking route. The centre now has restaurants and shops galore. While there are pretty decent places to buy stuff, there are also serried ranks of shops selling "South African" artefacts, many (if not most) of which are made in the Far East. As I said, there are exceptions but the place does have a bit of a Disney-esque feel about it, right down to the Wine Tram, itself not an unreasonable addition to a town dedicated to wine and drinking but ... Above: [l-r] Groovy Kloof St complete with plastic proteas; retiring from the fray; we're just as bad; beverages for the evening - some of them a tad quirky. ... the first picture above kind of epitomised things for me: the everlasting mountains as backdrop to an elegant piece of Cape Dutch architecture, in turn providing the background for a chap sitting in his SUV, windows open with a phone call turned up full blast on the sound system and with the driver shouting to be heard, while a forlorn vase of plastic proteas tries valiantly to epitomise the Western Cape. In fairness to the pretty town, the others seemed to really enjoy it: "It's really buzzy," Shan approved. And so to Paarl and Noop Francois had recommended Noop and jolly fine it was, too, particularly priding itself on its wine list. As mentioned above Shan and I wanted to thank the man for treating us so royally in 2021. While confirming details that day before, he suggested he'd raid his cellar and bring a few interesting wines. "'er Francois, this is our treat." He seemed to accede but turned up with three bottles anyway, including the magnum with the tiniest label. There were 5 of us for lunch (sadly his wife was unable to make it)! In the end we were only allowed to contribute the Vin de Constance that we are seen sipping in the pic below. The Noop food was indeed special, though: memorable dishes included crispy free-range roast duck followed by tonka bean créme brûlée and pine nut brittle ice cream with cacao nib soil finished off with a brandy snap. I guess we'd have to return to Paarl to repeat that sublime dessert. Salut, Francois - next time maybe if we can lure you out of your neck of the woods we can also provide the vino ... Above: [l-r] Vin de Constance creates a warm haze at the end of our meal; uplifting shot at Boschendal by Roj. Let's see if Roaminations' small coterie of aficionados can name the world's smallest label wine in the comments below. There are a few readers who might rise to the challenge ... A gathering of the clan Another quiet post-prandial evening in Franschhoek followed, going over preparations for our upcoming assault on Cape Town. But, before that we were to take part en route in an Eriksen family gathering at Blaauwklippen[3], a wine estate near Stellenbosch that holds a very well attended "family market" on Sundays. Shan's mother was an Eriksen, you see, and there's a fairly formidable clan around SA, even when a good number of them are, of late, dispersed over a Norwegian/South African diaspora splattered around the globe. For those 20-or-so who could make it, chairs were set out on a beautiful lawn in the shade of an oak tree and clan-members scattered into the market to procure victuals and libations while recent experiences were shared until, all too soon it was time to return home to diverse destinations in the Western Cape. Above: Where's Wally Dodger ... only just over a year ago it would've been 4 generations with an actual Eriksen matriarch, the much revered Judith[4] in attendance. Sadly the 2024 gathering was down to three but they were a handsome lot. Finally we get to Cape Town Shan and I were returning to the Tintagel Guesthouse in Gardens (bordering on Tamboerskloof) and hoping that Siån and Roger would feel at home there as much as we had the first time around. I think they did. It's a little gem in the metropolis and walkable to many of Cape Town's delights. Above: [l-r] a charming outdoor patio at Tintagel looks in on a more formal dining area; one of its sympathetically maintained bedroom suites. One of those delights is a block away in Kloof Street and is sort of comfortably Bohemian in its own way. After a short late afternoon break the Starrs and I were raring to sample the nearby amusements but Shan was tired out after her long squawk with the assembled relatives. While she demurred in the obvious comforts of the Tintagel, the three of us sauntered out to sample Cape Town's fleshpots. Above: a couple of the more racy establishments on Kloof Street. We didn't get any further than Kloof Street. Abstaining from the obvious charms of the local dagga[5], we soon spotted THE most delightful bar. The Kloof Street House's charms are immediately obvious from the pavement below, from the foliage festooned terrace up a short flight of stairs to the tastefully maintained Victorian entrance another short flight further up. And the deeper you penetrate the old house the better it gets. Only one snag: the rest of Cape Town's also aware of it and are appreciating its charms. Booking was essential except at the central bar, itself heaving but worth a little perseverance. We did manage a cocktail but felt guilty that Shan wasn't present and resolved to return the next day ... Coming next
We do some justice to the Cape Peninsular and the penultimate chunk of our traversal of South Africa from its game-rich North East to its Winelands and imposing walls of mountains of the South West. [Endnotes]:
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AuthorMark Harrison - making travelling an adventure Archives
September 2024
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