Wine Country in South Africa

Honduras had just been eliminated from the World Cup. So it was just as well that the next stop on our South African odyssey was bringing us to the south-western Cape, South Africa’s wine country, and some timely tonic to soften this heavy blow. Nonetheless, we still had over 1,000 kilometres to travel before we got there, a little more than required to build up a thirst. The 1,000km brought us through South Africa’s least populated province, the Northern Cape, a flat and arid region with straight stretches of road that at points run 30km without a single bend. Every now and then the road rises over a ridge that divides the plains, or will pass by what looks like extinct cone-shaped volcanoes which cast their long shadow over the flats in the bright desert sunlight.

Prior to the result of Honduras’ last group game with Switzerland, we did not know where we would travel for our next games. A FIFA ticketing agent had told us that if Honduras did not qualify, we would follow the 1st-placed team if we finished 4th, and would follow the 2nd-placed team if we finished 3rd. Secretly, we were hoping Honduras would finish 1st or 4th, as this would provide us with the best tourist itinerary, visiting Cape Town, Jo’burg and Durban. We were willing to sacrifice the Jo’burg quarter-final in order to do a road-trip of South Africa’s coast from west (Cape Town) to east (Durban). And so it turned out. So we will be following Spain (or whoever beats them) to the final – let’s see how that turns out …

We drove for well over 7 hours before night fell and the landscape changed. Beside us now in the darkness, we could just about make out the looming rocky shadows of the Western Cape. We took one of the high mountain passes and the wind was gusting so strong that it almost blew the car into the ditch on a few occassions. Tired, we decided to look for accommodation in a town called Paarl, about an hour short of Cape Town.

Paarl is one of the lesser-known towns in the middle of wine country, and we started to visit the town’s B&B’s one by one. And one by one, each B&B turned us away – no vacancies anywhere. We had just about exhausted all our options and were considering moving on when we arrived at a B&B with no lights on and a phone number for inquiries hanging on the gate. I rang the number and the lady told me she was out of town and therefore couldn’t help as she wouldn’t be back for a day or two. I was about to hang up when she asked if we were having trouble finding a place. I told her we had tried everywhere, at which point she told me to hang on, and proceeded to guide me to where she had hidden her keys, and to direct me around her house to one of the guest rooms. The lady was miles away and was giving a complete stranger access to her house, all on the basis that I had “a voice I can trust”. The place was great, and we left the money in the room the following day when we left, and the keys back in the hiding place.

And this story really typifies our experience in South Africa. We arrived here more nervous than anywhere we had visited before, having heard numerous stories about how dangerous South Africa is. And it is dangerous in places. But too little press is given to the hospitality and trusting nature of its people. Only once have we been asked for ID where we’ve stayed in South Africa. Generally, you pull up to a place, ask for a room, give your first name, and get the keys and pay on departure – no credit card, no deposit, no ID. It could easily be abused, but obviously isn’t, and this trusting attitude contributes to a real feelgood atmosphere in the country.

The next day we visited Franschhoek (French Corner), which is a picture-perfect village surrounded by vineyards and rocky peaks. We stopped at the tourist office and got a map of the numerous vineyards nearby. England were playing Germany at 4pm so we squeezed in three vineyards before kick-off. The first of which Graham Beck, which is famed for its sparkling wines made in the Methode Cap Classique style of French champagne. It was a perfect stop, as just a few hours earlier I had been informed that my sister had given birth to a beautiful, healthy girl. Ninfa and I toasted the good news over a glass of top-class bubbly in the winter sunshine. We went on to make more toasts at the Grande Provence and Chamonix vineyards in Franschhoek, but only after we had made a stop at a location that looked oddly familiar.

Just outside Paarl, on the road to Franschhoek is a rugby pitch and pavilion, which looks like a little colonial park stuck in a timewarp. But it’s hard to figure out why it’s surrounded by a barbed-wire wall. Just next to it is a long avenue with a little guardhouse at the entrance. This is Drakenstein minimum security prison, which I watched live on 11 February 1990 with members of my family at home in Donegal, on the day when Nelson Mandela walked free from prison, one of the many great steps in a series of wonderful events which turned South Africa from a pariah state of discrimination to a rainbow nation that defends the equality of all its peoples. There’s a statue of Nelson Mandela at the entrance, which is inscribed with some of his many inspirational words. It is impossible not to be overcome by the achievement and humility of this great man.

During our wine-tasting at the Chamonix vineyard, we met some South Africans from Cape Town. A quick friendship was struck up, probably partly due to the wine, and Kim and Dumi gave us tips on other vineyards to try in the area, as well as some restaurant recommendations. We swapped contact details and arranged to meet for dinner a few days later in Cape Town. We were happy to meet some nice new people, and we were also happy to at last meet some black South Africans. Up until now, we had only met white people, and we were obviously feeling that we were missing something in that the majority of our experiences were based on a minority group of the population. But more about Kim and Dumi in our next post from Cape Town.

After that, we had dinner in a restaurant in Franschhoek, reputedly one of all Africa’s best, the Tasting Room. The service is excellent and similar to Michelin standard in Europe. Sadly, we felt the food lacked the same quality, and other than some exceptions, overall it was a bit of a letdown.

The next day, we continued our tour of wine country and hit Stellenbosch, which is on the other side of the mountains from Franschhoek. We visited more vineyards, but one in particular deserves a mention. While we were not overly impressed with the wines at Spier, we were with the overall experience. It’s well geared to entertain, and we enjoyed the adjoining cheetah park and wild bird park. Additionally, there’s an African theme restaurant, Moyo, which is not at all tacky. The buffet serves some great traditional African dishes such as bobotie, and there’s lots of grilled meat, assorted breads, and plenty of amarula ice-cream! There are entertainers who sing and dance traditional African songs, and come and paint your face, and then visit each table individually to sing a song. It’s a lot of fun, making Spier a must-see on the wine route.

After lunch, we made our way slowly to cloudy, windswept and dramatic Cape Town. More about that wonderful city in our next post.