Spring flower madness

Even in an average spring flower year, the closest place to Cape Town where you’re almost certain to see spreads of dazzling blooms is Postberg in the West Coast National Park, just west of the booming lagoon side town of Langebaan.

It has to be said, though, when hunting spring flowers, nothing is guaranteed. If the rains have been too light or too heavy and the sun is not bright or hot enough for long enough after the last rains, even Postberg can disappoint.

Two years ago I travelled here full of expectations. Though the blooms could be seen, the partially cloudy and cool conditions allowed their frigid petals to unfurl only marginally, turning their normally flamboyant and riotous displays into frustrating pinpricks of colour on the landscape. More of a novice’s tentative pointillist construction than the Jackson Pollock-like eruption of colour the nearby busload of Japanese tourists and I had been expecting.

But the long-suffering wife (Annette) and I are hoping we’ve got it waxed this year. The Weather Gods are playing along nicely, with predictions of sunshine and temperature highs of between 18ºC and 26ºC over the two days we’re there, a period that has also followed light rains. Perfect conditions. 

Of course, with the weekend we’ve chosen bracketing Spring Day, the only remaining challenge is for us to leave Bot River early and get to the park in time to avoid the crush of Capetonians, tour busses and independent foreign tourists blocking the views we covet.

We blow this spectacularly. A combination of last-minute work tasks, photo stops, the allure of Franschhoek’s coffee shops, incorrect routing through roadwork-infested Simondium and some obligatory wine tasting in Darling conspires to delay our arrival at the West Coast gate until lunchtime on Friday.

However, the expected queue into the park doesn’t materialise. There’s just one loquacious cyclist who seems intent on unloading his entire life story to the ranger who holds us up. Driving the 25km to Postberg (part of Saldanha Bay’s southern peninsula, only open to the public in August and September), we encounter many cars coming the other way, making us believe the morning crowd is now leaving to make space for us afternoon dawdlers.   

Well not quite. Even though we get into Postberg without spending much time queuing, it’s pretty much bumper to bumper from here on. After taking in the first spreads of flowers near the entrance, I decide to take a “clever” detour to Plankiesbaai before making for the Uitkyk picnic area at the top of Postberg. 

Many other “clever” people have made this choice and we dial up the aircon and settle in for the inevitable smile-and-swerve crawl to our destination. Apart from the beautiful floral tableaus on offer, it’s interesting to view the mixture of floral angst and euphoria etched on our fellow drivers’ and passengers’ faces, as they, and us, jockey for the best roadside viewing sites. It reminds me a bit of the drive-in cinemas of old, trying to angle the car just right (in this case, south-facing) so the whole family can get a decent view of the screen.

The flower-studded carpets stretching to the ocean-side hills make up for the frenzied yet mostly good-natured jostling en route. And when we finally get to Plankiesbaai, the gorgeous spreads of common grielum and daisies soothe our badgered miens even further, their blazing yellows contrasting starkly with this exquisite bay’s white sands and the shimmering blue waters of the Atlantic. 

We eventually break free from the tangle of humanity that’s arrived — the afternoon sitting is growing by the minute — and take a lesser travelled dirt track to the Uitkyk picnic spot. Eschewing the offerings of the food truck on hand, Annette and I quickly disappear with our homemade sarmies and coffee flask down a path I know that leads to an unchartered view-site atop a huge granite outcrop (plutons dated to about 600-million years ago). 

From here we have an uninterrupted 360º view of Saldanha Bay, the lagoon, the park to the south and the Atlantic to the west. Moreover, it’s blissfully far from the madding crowds and we can enjoy the gentle sighing of the wind and watch large flocks of seagulls and kites feasting on the insects and rodents whose numbers have burgeoned with the blooms. 

This vantage point is also a good place from which to scroll through the remarkable history of this bay over the ages. It’s witnessed long-extinct animals, such as sabre-toothed cats, giant zebras, thee-toed horses and the African bear, which roamed these climes millions of years ago; some of modern man’s earliest progenitors, as borne out by the 117,000-year-old fossilised footprint of a woman dubbed “Eve”; clans of San and hunter-gatherer offshoots of Khoi clans who preferred surviving off marine life and edible vegetation to the pastoral life; hundreds of ships from countries like Portugal, Holland, France, England and even America, the crews of which often recovered from illnesses here and also careened their ships for repairs in the shallow waters; guano, seal and whale hunters operated here, as did a secret SA Navy base during the Angolan War, using strike craft and submarines. 

But the event in the timeline of this bay that resonates most with my own love of nature and hermit-like tendencies was sailor Frank Wightman’s discovery of the sanctity of Kraalbaai in the 1940s. A self-confessed loner, Wightman spent a cumulative total of about 24 years in Kraalbaai, living mainly off the sea and the land at a time when the only building he could see from his anchorage was the old Cape Dutch homestead on Geelbek Farm.

On his first day in the bay, a spring day at that, he hiked up Constable Hill to observe where the deeper water channels lay and to get a good view of his surrounds. From his biography on Wightman, A Giant in Hiding, Lawrence Green describes what he saw on that first day: “As he hauled the dinghy to the high water mark the fragrance of the spring wonderland stuck deep into his mind. The dunes were aflame with colour almost to the edge of the lagoon. The hill, rising six hundred feet above the bay, was emerald green. He climbed swiftly through the white and orange flowers, over the moss and ferns, and came to the stone-crowned summit.” 

Annette and I eventually part ways with the mountain and make our way down to the flower-covered plains. Not only is the traffic lighter now but our minds are less fraught, and the best flower and animal sightings of the day come at us in exuberant waves. 

After a quick stop at Kraalbaai, we head for our accommodation near the edge of the lagoon in Langebaan. When I last visited this town in the early 1980s, old World War 2 motor torpedo boats plied the waters here and it had only recently received its municipal status — now it’s growing quickly and has seemingly become the family fun capital of the West Coast.   

Travel notes 

Where it is and routes to get there: The West Coast National Park (WCNP) is 100km from Cape Town (West Coast Gate) while the town of Langebaan can be reached after another 30km via the park’s Langebaan Gate. 

What sort of vehicle will I need: Most of the roads in the park are tarred or good hard pack gravel, suitable for a normal sedan. But a higher clearance vehicle is recommended to access all Postberg’s side routes, particularly after rains.

What to see and do in and around the West Coast National Park: In the park itself the top attractions are: visiting the Postberg section in spring (August and September) to see the abundant flowers and game in certain sections, as well as to hike the area and enjoy a picnic at beautiful Plankiesbaai, or at the panoramic Uitkyk area at the top of Postberg; visit Tsaarsbank and walk along its pristine beach, followed by a braai afterwards; take in the turquoise waters of Kraalbaai from Preekstoel beach; bird watch (250 species) at one of the park’s three bird hides; ride the mountain bike trails around Seeberg and hike one of the four trails on offer.

The nearby town of Langebaan offers many attractions, too, such as sea kayaking; kitesurfing; sailing; and fishing. For most of these equipment and/or guiding/lessons are available. There are restaurants, bars and coffee shops galore (we tried Pearly’s on the beachfront and liked it) plus the highly rated Black Eagle Brewing Company. For good family fun in the sun, visit the Sunnypark Fun Park (open weekends and school holidays) and the Denlyn Park Market (last Saturday of every month — recommended). 

What sort of accommodation is on offer: The park offers various options, including characterful cottages and houseboats on Kraalbaai, but there is a far greater variety of accommodation in nearby Langebaan that’s easily located on the internet.

Best time of year to go: Mid-August to end-November 

Contacts/links: https://www.sanparks.org/parks/west-coast; and the West Coast Flower Line: 063 639 3532.