The Tavern Of The Seas

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Spier

What is more amusing, Derick in his Drifter’s Official Guide Uniform or Derick having to give a briefing with a hang over on top of a hang over? Noon on the dot, Derick and I were the only ones present for the briefing. Ten minutes later and we were still the only ones in the dining room.
‘The boys are in their rooms, I’ll go get them. They do know the briefing is at noon, Nicole would have told them,’ he explained as he bounded up the stairs. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that no one had told me about the briefing time which is why I had to ask him the previous night. Three long blonde haired and exceptionally tanned Norwegian boys followed him down. Is this the group?
‘Guys, this is Rebekah. She has been on a Drifters trip before.’ Great introduction. Unfortunately, I didn’t catch their names as their collective response was a raised hand, nod and hi. Carl, Alex and Harald. I only discovered their names as I watched them fill out their indemnity forms. ‘There is one more confirmed passenger but he hasn’t arrived yet and we have three more unconfirmed.’
‘Unconfirmed?’ One of the boys asked. ‘Doesn’t it start today, and they are unconfirmed?’ Before Derick could fabricate an answer, a short Dane with a wide grin walked through the door. Hendrik, our missing fourth confirmed passenger. The briefing began and well it was brief to say the least. The gist was, we will be camping, there will be some long drives, some days that is all that we will be doing, there are a few wild camping nights and this is a participation tour therefore you will be expected to pitch in. Keep an open mind as in some places facilities can be basic. In fact grab a brochure, there is the itinerary. Any questions? Right, meet in 45min and we are off to Stellenbosch.

There we were five twenty-something plus guide in a modified green Mercedes overland truck heading towards the most internationally recognised South African wine producing region. One of the oldest wine farms in the heart of Stellenbosch, Spier is a 67acrage vineyard and with even more acreage to spare for a golf course, cheetah farm and resort. In essence it is a day out friendly to families, couples, locals and travellers alike. With it being Easter weekend, plenty of people were lounging around on the lush lawns, Moroccan inspired bar and al fresco wine tasting courtyard.
I won’t claim to be a wine connoisseur; I just know what I like. Over my rather brief wine drinking years I have developed a few rules:
Rule 1: Price means nothing. Taste does not have a price tag, it just makes you pretentious.
Rule 2: White wine must be drunk immediately when opened. Aged three years is sufficient, any more than that and it will taste like vinegar.
Rule 3: Red wine in general is good, if older than 18 years, even better. But let’s face it, who is able to hold a bottle of red for that long? So if you have the cash, buy a good aged red wine and you will never go back.
Rule 4: Swirl, sniff, sip, swish and swallow or spit. Then rinse out your glass and mouth with water in between.

Out of the wines we tasted, the Sauvignon Blanc was the clear winner with a unanimous approval from the boys and I. The loser? A team spit of the Pinotage to the surprise of the locals. ‘That’s my favourite type of red wine,’ and the lady holding the bottle agreed with Ma Guide. ‘It is an acquired taste though,’ and he conceded. That much is true. Pinotage was developed by a South African in 1927. Professor Abraham Perold of the University of Stellenbosch cross-pollinated the French prince of all grapes, Pinot Noir, with the rather peasant Hermitage. The varietals enjoyed success to some extent in South Africa; after all it flourished in the climate thanks to the Hermitages versatility but had a strong body due to the Pinot Noir. Launching it on the international market in 1979 was a major flop. Reviews were along the lines of ‘rusty nails’ and ‘acetone’. Eighty percent of Stellenbosch wineries ripped out their Pinotage Vines and went back to developing the tried and tested Shiraz and Cabernets. 1987, the Diners Club rewarded the Pinotage in their Wine Maker of the Year Competition and the South Africans began dusting off their 60’ and 70’s Pinotages. No surprise (rule 3), they developed even better then the Cabernets and British Wine Masters began retracting their earlier criticisms, citing them to be South Africa’s future. Mind you, this was at a time when the whole world was in love with South Africa especially with the magnanimous President Mandela entering the international political scene.

In 1991 Pinotage was given a class of its own thanks to Beyer’s’ 1989 Kanonkop Pinotage which won the International Wine of the Year. I can see why the South Africans are proud to drink their varietals as I am proud to drink our Australian Reislings and Shirazes. Of course I do flip to being a Kiwi and enjoy a good Sauvignon Blanc. So, could I learn to love the Pinotage? Possibly, but I have yet to love the Merlot or Chardonnay. If only I could get my hands on an aged Pinotage then I will make a definitive stand. At present, it leaves a harsh after taste similar to a Chardy purchased in the bargain bin of a drive through.

The boys were left to ponder about purchasing a few bottles while Derick and I headed to the misty bar. Literally, a fine mist is sprayed from above around the entire bar and even though the ground is slightly damp, sitting on the bar stool with my lemonade the mist kept me cool without saturating me. Wandering around the estate the sound of live music floated across and caught our attention. An amphitheatre had been set up for a concert on the vineyard and a sound check was in progress for the event tomorrow. With the stunning hill backdrop, flawless sky and chilled out atmosphere, it sounded more inviting than our plans of climbing Table Mountain and looking at some confused penguins on Boulders Beach. The whole day made me yearn for the Hunter Valley back home and a picnic on the vineyards listening to Pete Murray. A Day on the Green is what I missed most this summer and this was about as close as I was going to get.

Killing some time we found ourselves at the Cheetah Program. ‘The cheetah is my favourite animal. I guess you know everything about cheetahs now,’ Derick was referring to my stint at the Cheetah Project in Hoedspruit.
‘I thought it was the elephant?’
‘Too many bad experiences but seeing the cheetah teaching its cubs to hunt...’ He shook his head. There was nothing he could say to describe it. It would have been phenomenal. ‘Why is there a dog?’ Next to the cheetah pens, a large white dog was pacing idly. I made a stab at an explanation. ‘Possibly surrogacy if they are hand raised. Like a mother figure.’ It satisfied us for a while, till we took a closer look. ‘It can’t be a mother, it has a dick!’ The people next to us tried vainly not to laugh out loud. The dog is an Anatolian Shepherd from Turkey. They are part of a program to protect the wild cheetahs from the wrath of Namibian farmers protecting their livestock. Bred to bond with the livestock they guard them from cheetahs and other predators by posturing and barking, not attacking. Cheetahs respond to aggression by turning away. If it looks like too much trouble, they won’t expend the excess energy. In essence taking away the need for farmers to shoot the cheetahs as they once did in the past.

Here is food for thought, why breed an animal if there is no where to release them? Cheetahs are on the endangered species list and before we run out to campaign on behalf of these beautiful animals consider why they are extinct. 100 years ago the cheetah population was estimated at 100,000 over 44 countries spanning Africa, Asia and delving back even further, North America. They were known as imperial cats since they were kept by royalty as hunting partners. The Asian cheetah is considered extinct by 1956 and very few are left in the Middle East. Humans are to blame. Not because we hunted them or decided to do something crass like wear their fur. We are to blame because we are using their territory for homes, farms, car parks and shops. Yes, we are procreating like rabbits and the cheetah is dying out as a result. Unlike us, they cannot survive by living on top of one another in claustrophobic buildings. The majority of the 12,000 wild cheetahs left are in Southern Africa. Given the space population ratio, they are not extinct in that respect. It is just a horrible thought that in one hundred years the population had diminished almost by ninety percent and let’s not even consider the damage to the gene pool. If you are privileged enough to see this lithe creature in the wild, savour the moment as somewhere in the world another super mall just encroached on our natural wildlife.

First Sundowner

The boys declined Derick’s suggestion of a sundowner citing having done nothing but drink since the beginning of their travels and needed a moment to chill out before heading down to the waterfront for dinner. They will learn in due course about the importance of a sundowner. I joined Gary, his partner Brenda and Valentina at the table. Not wanting their trip to end they had planned their next one, a spectacular itinerary through Europe to visit one another.
‘What was your last trip like?’ Gary asked.
‘Awesome. We travelled through Botswana, Vic falls, Zambia, Malawi and Mozambique. One of my favourite moments is canoeing down the Zambezi and camping wild for a couple of nights.’
‘How far did you paddle?’ Racking my brains I answered about 60 odd kilometres.
‘We were with the current.’
Gary pulled a face, ‘Pft, in Canada if you paddle with the current you are going the wrong way.’
‘What? Is there a policeman standing on the bank telling you to go the other way?’ retorted Valentina.
‘Of course not, there is a huge sign that says ‘Wrong way, go back’,’ I added. Brenda was laughing tears. ‘Because in Canada we don’t use fishing rods to catch salmon, we take it straight from the bear’s mouth!’ I couldn’t help mocking him. ‘I’ve got my eye on you,’ Gary threatens pointing a meaty finger while holding a smoke. ‘I want to hear what you get up to on this trip!’
‘Hear it? Come and see for yourself. There is room for all three of you.’ Even though we were joking, I could see they were seriously considering it. I left them to ponder the thought to change for the evening dinner. As I walked back out to join the boisterous trio, Gary stood up and began taking mock photo shots of me as if I was on a catwalk. Canadians are so damn lovable.

Together we headed up to the rooftop balcony for a sundowner. The sun cast a golden orange over the Sea Point horizon. Crisp and metallic the sea reflected the golden rays in ripples across its surface. Quietly we all pondered on how much it would cost to buy an apartment with a balcony facing this beautiful sunset. The air began to cool and the sun blink behind the horizon, my first official tour sundowner over.

‘Okay boys, the sundowner. When the sun begins to set, it is compulsory to have a drink in your hand. From now on in, I expect you guys to be there on the dot. I don’t care if its water.’
‘Whoa whoa! It has to be alcoholic!’ Gary reprimanded me. Gary and Brenda were joining us for dinner at the water front. The boys looked at Gary, looked at me and nodded. ‘I can’t believe you said non-alcoholic,’ Gary said disappointedly. ‘But you’re young.’
‘Careful gramps,’ I retorted and I was rewarded with one of his unbridle roaring laughs.

The boys went quiet as we stood waiting for the bus. I followed their line of sight to a couple in a battered Chico having a bit of backseat loving. If you were going to make out surely you would choose a slightly less conspicuous spot than directly in front of a bus stop. The bus came and the couple looked up to see their audience. I smiled and waved. ‘Do you think we should pay for the show?’ Hendrik commented. ‘Had better.’ Alex boasted jokingly.

The Waterfront is South Africa’s Darling Harbour with the exception of being scanned for weapons before heading into Quay 4.
‘I was going to buy a safari hat and the whole outfit before coming,’ Harald confessed.
‘Are you serious?’
‘Yeah, I tried on the outfit and everything,’
‘I would have sent you back home.’ I wasn’t joking.
Not unsurprisingly, the food was fantastic and the company pretty great as well. Reflecting on my situation, I was a lone girl sitting at a table with five good looking and easy going boys, I couldn’t be luckier and I was sure the entire room knew it.

Still feeling the effects of hang overs, it was an undisputed quiet night. But not until Harald had one last chance to buy a safari hat from Cape Union. He tried it on and seeing the look on my face, he rethought the situation. There are few things that are more amusing than a ridiculously over tanned Norwegian wearing a safari hat in the middle of an outdoor shop in South Africa’s most touristy city.

A fawn bus rattled by and we all raced thinking it was heading to Sea Point. All the running was in vain as it wasn’t ours. Unfortunately Derick’s jeans became a casualty having an edge of a fashionable hole catch a number plate of a parked car, causing a vertical rip.
‘Bek can you fix this?’ he asked when we settled on the correct bus.
‘Yes.’
‘Really?’ Did I ever tell him that my mum owns a fashion business sewing designer wear? I guess not, as he genuinely looked surprised.
‘Doesn’t mean that I will though.’
‘Oh.’ After all, I am on holidays.

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Photos

Sundowner at the Inn
Derick & Me - seriously, I am not pregnant, just a bad pose!

Spier
Family fun at Spier

Lake At Spier Estate
Gorgeous view, beautiful day and fab wine. This is the life!

View from Drifters Inn
Beginning of a sunset

Sea Point Sundowner
'And its going down...'

Capetown Sunset
Beautiful finish