CPD

Continuing Professional Development?

No: Chapman’s Peak Drive.

We had a bit of a walk on the beach on one side of the peninsula today, before scooting through Sun Valley (which was both sunny and a valley) to the other side for a spot of lunch. We could have come back over the mountain, but because Ke Dezemba (I know, but the spirit remains for the moment), we went around it instead.

Chapman’s Peak Drive has won all sorts of awards for being a beautiful, scenic road, and while I 100% understand where these awards committees are coming from, it really needs to be noted that the beauty of Chapman’s Peak Drive is from Chapman’s Peak Drive, and actually not Chapman’s Peak Drive.

Now just over 100 years old, Chapman’s Peak Drive remains an incredible bit of engineering. Stuck into the granite cliff of… well… Chapman’s Peak, there are 114 bends in 9.6km of road, which begins at 38m AMSL and peaks (lol) at 161m.

It’s an incredible bit of road to drive on, and the views are equally amazing:

This one is a 24MP pano that I knocked up earlier today with almost 2 minutes of effort. Almost.

But that’s the view from the road. If you look at the actual road, it’s a real scar across the Cape landscape. You can see it – or rather not miss it – it on the right hand side of my image above, or if you prefer a borrowed aerial shot from a bit further south:

It has wrecked the mountain a bit. Chapman is presumably turning in his grave.

Of course, none of this was a problem back in the 1910s and 20s, but I’d wager that you’d never get away with building this sort of thing today.

And equally of course, you can’t say that it’s ugly to look at.

That would be against The Rules.

Chapman’s Peak Drive is sacrosanct, flawless and infallible. Just like Stephen Fry. (Although.)

But “Stunning to look from, unpleasant to look at” isn’t a category in any tourism awards, so we have to keep saying that it’s beautiful.

Which the view from it, is.

On That Whale

A dead humpback whale was brought ashore onto Hout Bay beach this weekend. This is very unfortunate, but is also just one of those things that happens. You don’t need to blame climate change or toxic oceans here: animals sometimes die, and animals sometimes die in the sea close to a shoreline. And if they are a 14m, 35 tonne humpback whale, you’re possibly more likely to notice them than if they were a small crab. Sadly, they can also be a bit of a hazard. Aside from the smell and the health risks, whale carcasses on the shoreline can also attract sharks, and so removal of the carcass is something that needs to happen timeously.

Usually, the whales which are washed up around the Cape Town coastline are taken – by truck – to the landfill site at Vissershoek. This is a fairly unusual thing, but we’re probably looking at a few every year, so it’s hardly unheard of.

This one seems to have caused a bit of stir though. Maybe because it was moved on a weekend and a nice day when people were out and about.

And just look who commented! With that emoji.

It’s always sad when a family member passes on. Sorry for your loss.

But it was the Reddit post referenced in the link above that really got me laughing.
The original question here:

Was answered in typical Reddit form by a super helpful local user:

“Probably dead”? Amazing.

You think?

Not just popping out of the water and onto a low loader for a Township Tour of Imizamo Yethu and a drink or two in the Constantia Valley before being dropped back into the Atlantic, then?

Dead, you say?

Yes, I think you might be right.

Probably.

Stacking up

The sun is out! A lazy-ish morning, with a nice 6.5km run through the mud in the posh bit of Cape Town, followed by a trip to the butcher and the bottle store has left me with very limited time before I test out my new wares on and around the braai this evening.

And the things I need to do (including this), are stacking up a bit.

With that in mind, please accept this shot of Hout Bay, and then I can get on with my jobs.

See you tomorrow, folks!

Hike

An interesting hike up to the Constantiaberg Mast yesterday morning with friends. 8.8km in distance and 510m of ascent. Sometimes hot and sunny, sometimes cold and windy. Such is the chaotic nature of the weather in the Table Mountain National Park. But on the backside of the mountain on the way up, we were mainly surviving a “bracing” gale force southwesterly, straight off the Atlantic.

Not much animal life around, but a fair selection of birds and plenty (or more) of South Africa’s National Flower, the King Protea (Protea cynaroides):

Interestingly, there doesn’t seem to be a lot of reproducible information about the actual mast that we walked up to. Sitting on a mountain of 902m, it’s either 146m or 154m high, which I guess won’t really bother anyone who’s not flying nearby between 1048m and 1056m amsl. But it does really seem like something that really should be a known value.

It’s about half the height of the Eiffel Tower, which looks BIG whenever you see it. But even when you’re right underneath this structure, it really doesn’t seem that tall. Maybe that’s because there’s nothing around to compare it to. The guy wires holding it up in the mighty Cape wind – the two of which make an eerie and almost ominous sound as they meet – are seriously hefty though, as are their attachment points to the mountain. It doesn’t seem to wobble much.
And although there’s still radio and TV being broadcast from here, the majority of the infrastructure now seems to be microwave-based – I counted over 70 transceivers. And one big satellite dish.

One thing that is a little lax is the security. A waist-high, rusting barbed wire fence (and some healthy self-preservation and vertigo) was all that was stopping us from being able to access and climb the tower. (B)eagle-eyed readers will be able to see the wide open gate to the right of the road: that’ll certainly assist in keeping people from getting very, very close to this strategically important bit of national infrastructure.

We just sat there and had a coffee and some hot cross buns though, before a much less hectic descent back to the car.

A good morning out.

Day 546 – There is a dog

Early morning riding lesson in Hout Bay. Not this guy, obviously. This is a dog. I’m surprised you didn’t notice that.

You can’t ride a dog.

I’m playing with Lightroom on my phone while trying to avoid the midges. And this guy is playing with his stick and trying to get me to throw it for him.

My daughter is working hard in the arena, the light is beautiful, and I’m wishing that I’d brought my camera along.