Citrus Creek

Moving the Beast from Strandfontein to The Baths near Citrusdal, patches of blue haze kept appearing. Stopping to investigate, they turned out to be Wild flax and in this spot were nicely offset by yellow Namaqua daisies.

A mysterious Whatsapp arrived which included a picture of a young man I didn't recognise and which asked for my whereabouts..  Turned out to be from another lovely lady who used to be a neighbour.  Sorry Gina but it has been a while since I saw your son.  She said she was going to be in the area with her mother and a group of friends so we arranged to meet in Clanwilliam.  The flowers there were still looking good and we spent a couple of hours wandering around Ramskop.  Even found a couple which weren't open when I was last there such a this glorious Pelargoneum magenteum.

Or how about a dose of Carpobrotus quadrifidias, sounds diabolical, pity there's no common name for it.

Driving back to Citrusdal just had to stop for this.........

When booking at The Baths, the young man asked if I had a large van and when it was confirmed he said that he'd put me on site 16.  When I rang back to change the dates a lady assisted and said I could have 3 or 16.  Which would she recommend, 3 as it's closer to the amenities.  This being the first time I had merely booked after a recommendation, I was somewhat green around the gills when I arrived and saw the road that had to be negotiated.  Turns out the fellow knew his stuff as 16 was a large site near the road and of course getting to 3 entailed a narrow winding dirt track and naturally there were half a dozen vehciles coming the tother way.  Interesting.  Thank heavens for the two guys on the next site who assisted with getting the Beast positioned and a couple of large scotches calmed some shattered nerves.

The Baths are hot springs that happen to emerge next to a swift flowing river, so you can have hot or cold as you wish.  Right at the top of the resort is this waterfall with two small pools on the right that are hot and the big one on the left is cold.  The hot water is then channeled from here into a huge walled swimming pool.

The Victorian era hotel has been converted into self-catering units but still retains a graceful air.  There is a plethora of other accommodation which remained pretty full even during the week.

On the recommendation of the manager, I drove up to the top of Piekniekierskloof Pass (which is only spelt differently in English) and then towards Paleisheuwel (Palace Hill) to look at Koningskop (King's Head) Caravan Park, which was excellent but hemmed in by mountains. As I hadn't been able to find the satellite at The Baths, I decided to look elsewhere.  Impressive views up there though.

Moving on to look at Porterville I came across this guy doing something that I've always wanted to try - crop spraying.  Though I did have a licence when I was in my 40's the only low-level stuff I ever did was when I put in a few training flights with a fellow who accumulating hours towards his commercial licence by instructing and crop spraying.  However that was still up at about 200 feet, this guy was almost dragging his wheels through the wheat.

A vlei beside the road contained a patchwork of arums, lilies and daisies while on the other side....

.........a sheet of canola.  No luck in Porterville so back to Citrusdal where a sign showing a small white caravan on a brown background, led me to Citrus Creek, which I've vrtually had to myself since arriving.

This is what I have to put up with looking out of my bedroom window.  And there's Appel with an Ah. An absolute character, he 'talk wif a bit of an eccent' and has spent 31 years in Citrusdal, most them as a policeman.  He became disillusioned about 18 months ago and retired but has yet to receive his pension, one wonders if he ever will.  I asked if there was a restaurant worth going to and he told me of two, 'but the one is a bit fancy, you have to wear shoes'.

The place is a bit Old MacDonald with horses, chickens, dogs, cats and the security force.  Talk about a gaggle, this lot are loony.  They're quiet most of the time but every now and again they have fits of hysteria which sometimes involves low level flying from one end of the park to the other.

Out atlassing one moring I came across these short stemmed Gladiolus alatus which the Afrikaners have given the sublime name of Kalkoentjie - little turkey, check the wattles!

Also ran into my namesake, the Yellow Bishop who was full of the joys of spring and showing off his magnificent golden rump to prospective Mrs Bishops - wouldn't mind one myself.

From reading TV Bulpin's guide I discovered Algeria, which surprisingly isn't amywhere near north Africa but buried in the heart of the Cederberg.  It's the gateway to some of the most spectacular rock formations in the country and needless to say my first visit was a waste as I left the camera memory card in my computer. So a second visit was necessary as the lens of the phone is so scratched everything was a blurred mess.  Of course the elements decided that 50 mm of rain on the newly made road was a good idea so the bakkie came back with a thick coat of viscous mud, but it was worth it.  On the Niewoudt Pass I kept seeing these silver leaved proteas with what I thought were scarlet flowers, but are actually new leaves. Protea nitida is probably the only one of the group whose flowers are outdone by its' leaves.

40 k's from the Cape Nature offices at Algeria stand's Lot's wife, thats her in supplication on the extreme left.  She has obviously been painted in the past but it is now fading and hopefully she'll escape further humiliation in future.

A short walk further on are the Venster rots (Window rocks), towering coloumns with eroded holes in them

10 k's further are the Stadsal Grotte (City Hall caves) with a magical outlook back along the valley.

As usual these caves have been named with a great deal of perspicacity as you could hold a very large gathering under their arches.

Pity there wasn't anyone around to give perspective but I was unable to touch the roof in most places.

The enormous Wolfsburg Arch is also in the area but it involves a hike which would be a bit too much for my rickety knees, this is it's little brother.

About half a kilometer from the caves is a smaller one which houses one of the best panels of San art I've ever seen.  The waffle explained that even though the ellie on the right looks touched up, a photo taken over 100 years ago shows it in the same state.  The men are all headless as originally they woould have been painted with white or yellow ochre, which doesn't last as well, and the absence of weapons points to a mystic gathering rather than a hunt.

Apparently most paintings were done by shamans who spent a lot of time in a trance - wonder if they noticed the view.

Coming back to Citrusdal was overawed by the beauty of this neck of the woods.

Decided a trip to Darling was needed as the previous visit was a bust, so booked into the quaint Victorian, Darling Guesthouse.  Did a detour via Ceres to check another caravan park then hit road works which meant not arriving until around three.  The only place I knew about was the Tienie Versfeld Reserve which though boasting a splendid display didn't have the one I was particularly after.  When checking in I quizzed my host and he said I'd find them at Duckitt's Orchid farm and gave me directions.  By the time I got there everything had shut up shop.  The morning dawned clear and bright but at 10, when things were supposed to start happening - fog.  Little bit of swearing.  That was Wednesday and the rest of the week was pretty miz, but Sunday was a jewel.  So may I present the result of a second 250 k round trip Geisorhisa radians.

Well the second part of the name is appropriate but with their usual succinctness the Afrikaners have it perfect, Wynkelkie - little wine glass.  Only 30 mm across they were there in glorious profusion, but what a sad indictment that this is probably there last little 10 hectare patch as everwhere else is now, wine, wheat or sheep.  In nowhere near the same numbers were Pienkalkoentjie (Gladiolus meliuscalus) - also with wattles....

...........and almost in the same league, Babiana rubrocyanea - very imaginatively named Red and blue babiana.

Kind of makes the litle cottonwool fluffs concealing the peaks of these pale into insignificance.

Flowers, flowers, flowers.....

While at Rondeburg near Clanwilliam a flight of fancy saw me heading back to Vredenberg to have another look at the land I mentioned previously, in order to make up my mind about it.  Hasn't happened.  About 5 km of the road from Eland's Bay to Velddrift was bordered on both sides by an almost continuous strip of Oxalis pes-caprae which doesn't have a common English name but in Afrikaans is known as Geelsuuring, which roughly translates as Yellow sour-weed.  As children, my sisiter and I used to eat all sorts of weird things and the leaves of a member of this family was also on the menu.  So from first hand experience I can tell you that's very apt.

Another section of the same road was carpeted in stunted daisies that were no more than 30 mm tall, no point in wasting precious resources when you're in a low rainfall area.

On a pass coming down into the Eland's river valley is this natural arch known as Vensterklip or Window rock.

Back at Rondeberg another visit to the Cederberg was deemed necessary as the rock formations on the Pakhuis Pass are just something else and the Bidouw Valley was supposedly good for flowers, unfortunately the lack of rain made for very few.

However during what the Americans refer to as a 'comfort stop' I found this little beauty which again lacks a common name so you'll have to be satisfied with Babiana scabrifolia, shame.  I consider myself very fortunate as it has an extremely limited range, but the family contains some of the most outrageously spectacular flowers imaginable. 

Next stop was a bit of a culture shock as the caravan park in Vanrunsdorp was packed to the gunnels and very basic compared to the luxury of Rondeberg.  What I couldn't fathom was the number of people who set up camp and then just sat.  It wasn't as if there was a magic view or anything, perhaps they just like watching other people.  Three nights was enough for me though this mighty lump of rock which forms part of the Gifberg (Poison mountains, not even Google could explain) had presence. Having decided that Kamieskroon and Springbok could wait till the rush died down, the search was on for somewhere a little saner.

Vredendal was checked but the only thing that held any interest was this enormous Quiver tree Aloe dicotoma, the hollowed branches of which the San used to hold their arrows.  This must have been planted though as it is well outside the normal range, but I'd never seen one in flower before.

A trip up to Nieuwoudtville was a little disappointing as far as the flowers were concerned apart from a small clump of Renosterblom (rhino flower) or Arctotis aculis adding a dash of colour to the roadside.  Dare say someone saw a rhino mucnhing on it 400 years ago when they still existed in the area.

Oorlogskloof, which was an absolute riot of flowers when Jo and I visited only produced a small patch of Bulbinella divaginata - I'd looove to know what the specific refers to.

I also found a road leading up into the Gifberg which sported this waterfall in spite of the drought.

Plus a patch of Ursiniea cakifolia with pretty two-tone petals.............

............... and "Here be dragons"...............

....... going back down.

Vanrynsdorp is known as the Gateway to Namaqaland and T V Bulpin provided a very comprehensive description of the problems that the flowers that bloom there face.  Not only is rain scarce, 50 - 150 mm a year, but pollinators are also in short supply as bees are incapable of surviving on resources that only last for a couple of months.  Hence flowers are short stemmed and they also resort to devious means of attracting beetles and flies by providing visual cues as demonstrated by this Osteospermum.  Those black marks are randomly scattered over a few petals and look just like bugs feasting on nectar.

I discovered relative peace and sanity in the little dorp of Strandfontein, near the mouth of the Olifant's River, seen below.  There are two massive municipal caravan parks most of which have on site facilities. Perdeskoen (Horseshoe) is sculpted out of a crescent shaped valley and the most imaginatively named A-block is on a ledge just above the beach.  I didn't know about the second one and when booking in assumed the A-block site assigned to me was part of Perdeskoen.  It was only while wandering around the next day that I found where I should have been - "old-timer's" strikes again.

One of the most spectacular raptors in this part of the world is the Black Harrier as they have wonderfully patterned wings and tail.  While driving around atlassing I found one cruising next to the road and immediately slammed on anchors, grabbed the camera and leapt into action - no bird.  Back into the bakkie, u-turn and roar off in the direction it was last seen - gone.  Blast, another u-turn and there it was in the ditch next to the road having a quiet meal - fantastic.

Aother day took me along the Crayfish trail that runs between Strandfontein and Doring Baai, a very rugged cliff-top pathway with marvellous views but very little in the way of birds apart from a most unexpected encounter with a group of Alpine Swifts.

Scattered patches of flowers were on offer too...........

..........and in one spot almost a carpet.

Not all of them showing off though and the only bees seen in the area were all over this Euphorbia caput-medusae or Medusa's Head, very appropriate.

And THAT railway also ran past very close to the caravan park and after a while I could distinguish between the empty up-tains and the loaded down ones.  How?  There are 20 cross-over points along the route and one of them was mid-way to Doring Baai, so the loaded trains were slowing down when passing and the up ones accelerating, which could easily be heard.

I'd already taken a picture of the viaduct over the Olifant's River but it was definitely lacking without the train. About 8 am one morning I heard an up-train and the race was on to get to the viaduct before the train. Fortunately they are limited to 80 kph so though I had further to travel I managed to get there about 5 minutes before it.  At 1.3 km the bridge is only a third of the length of the train!

I thought I'd take a stroll up to the river mouth along the beach one afternoon, but after about 3 k's gave up - just as well as it was another 5 to get there.  Eventually found a road and drove down- far more civilised.

And to finish off another of those west coast extravaganza's seen from my camp site - you'll have to forgive the sisal and palms!