Saldanha

Once we have left left that towns that have succumbed to the dreadful "Plett Syndrome," now starts what many have told me is the start of the real West Coast. Like many others confronted with a seemingly obvious and self-explanatory statement like that I merely nodded with  confident certainty that showed that I understood, I was in the know, I was hip; when in fact I had no idea what was so real about it.

But when I arrived at Saldanha I saw why there was a differentiation. What struck me about this town and the others surrounding it, such as Paternoster, Vredenburg, St Helena Bay and Velddrif; was that these towns -- and I hate saying like this -- are the kind of towns that, were you to take kids to, they would disown you for threatening their lives with terminal boredom (unless they have their Blackberries, then they are a self-contained unit).

You can see that they are not driven nor sustained by tourism, asides from the multiple guest houses that litter the Beach Road (Strand St) amongst the palm trees. The monolithic Steel Mill looms in the background like the ravaged carcass of a fallen titan, now part of that landscape. They are are not packages for external consumption; they still retain more than a semblance of their initial purpose. So if you want to see what South Africa is like outside of the commercials and travel shows, then this is a good place to start.

Radical Raptors

For all the High-Definition nature channels and 3D TV's, there is nothing that can compare to having a falcon hit twenty-five G's past your head, let me tell you. I think I may have gotten carried away from a proper intro so let me start somewhere more resembling a beginning.

At the Heath (7km out of Plett and 25km to Kysna) is the Radical Raptors, which describes itself as being "a rehabilitation centre that aims at community awareness, and the rescue, rehabilitation and release of birds of prey. As a non-profit organisation your support funds our project." It was one of the great highlights of this trip, even my life (no jokes).  Ever since I was a boy I had a love for birds of prey, so this was not an opportunity I was going to miss -- not when they do daily displays at 11am, 1pm, and 3pm.

They have a few stunning birds of prey that you can look at, but which are being rehabilitated; so no touching. Though when a bird may not be able to survive on its own in the wild, they are subsequently used to help educate people. These are their trained non-releasable birds of prey which they free-fly for the audience.

The first bird they took out was a Hawk (no its name was not Ethan). These birds are very secretive. They like to stay hidden in the bush where they live and hunt. With short wings and a long tail for manoeuvrability, they can catch birds that have a greater body weight to them. Their extremely long legs add to their advantage. They are surprisingly little, but your heart still goes a flutter when you have one sit on your hand; and you thank the heavens that you have a heavy-duty glove on, for their talons are very sharp.

Barny the Barn Owl was not in the mood to fly around so instead we got the privilege of seeing the Spotted Eagle Own being flown. Owls, as you may well know, hunt at night. They employ Ninja Killing Style. With a massive wing span made from soft, sound-absorbing feathers, an owl can swoop a few centimeters over your head without making a sound. Their incomparable eyesight and hearing enables them to target their prey from a great distance away. The problem is that during the day they can be hunted down by faster, more agile birds of prey; so they stay hidden while the sun is up. One of the biggest killers of owls is rat poison. If you make use of rat poison ... you have killed your fair share of owls. There is no justifiably good reason to use rat poison, and if you do use it, then you are actively endangering our fragile eco-system. Shame on you. And if you own a pet store, then stop selling it. Owls are great to have around. So if you want owls to come and visit, set up perches or go to you nearest pet shop and get yourself an owl box.

The next bird they took out was a Jackal Buzzard, named such because its cry sounds like a jackal. It's the closest you can come to an eagle, without being an eagle. Its large wingspan its perfect for long glides, gaining lift from thermals, which uses little energy as it covers large areas in search of prey.

The last bird they flew was a Falcon. I learnt the hard way that calling a falconer's falcon a pet results in the kind of stare that could turn testicles into ovaries. They are amazing birds and the fastest animal on earth, but can only reach their record speeds during a drive. When it takes a corner its body can experience up to twenty-five G's of pressure. That's just under five times what a fighter pilot normally handles. The next time you meet a pilot, ask him if he would be interested in experiencing 25G's, and see if his stare leaves your testicles intact. Despite that, a hawk's speed and agility make them impressive hunters. Having one swoop between the crowd and over your head is breathtaking to say the least

For me it was an amazing experience, and a cause worthy of support. If you are in the area I would definitely suggest it. If you have kids, it will be a memory they will cherish for a lifetime, I guarantee it.

I took many pictures, but getting them form my camera to my tablet may take a while, so I will add them to the post later.

For more information check out the Radical Raptors Website.

Plett 09-08-2012

So, Plett.

Um, well. In season I hear that Millionaires road is a bustle; and the coffers of Midas himself overflow. It's clear to see in the opulence that seems to seep from the architecture. I decided to stay at Plett Backpackers. It was close enough to the center of town to allow me to wonder around at night and get a bit of a feel for the pace. It also sported an amazing panoramic view of  Plett. Even though it was off-season; which meant a bed in the dorm only cost me R100, there was only one bed left. Lucky me. Oh there are a lot different tours to go on, exalting the natural beauty of our fine country. As one can guess, the prettier the place, the more costly the entrance. Though, if you are a tourist backpacking from town to town, you can't walk down a road before you find a place with enough brochures to make a small mattress out of.

That night I went wandering down the main road. I came across a restaurant called "The Table". Now, I pride myself on knowing a thing or too about pizza. Had I the means to indulge my "journalistic integrity", then I would have left gorged on pizza. Sadly I did not. Based on a quick gander at the menu, the selection was very exiting, and the prices were most agreeable. No pizza was over R75. The atmosphere was inviting, and the decor tasteful. If you like a nice slice, then make turn.

Then the nagging desire for social interaction started to flare up, so off to a bar I went. The one that seemed to have the most ... atmosphere, was Flashbacks. The signage is unmissable from the main road. Its name bears an ominous prediction; but it could have been worse -- it could have been called Black-Outs. It's the type of bar that curb-stomps cocktails; the type of bar that around 12am releases the strange type of magnetism that convinces people not to go home yet even thought they have to be up bright and early the next morning, and have those three more shots and a draught or two. Smells like home. Though a bar lives and dies by the people that frequent it, and aside from a lesbian couple, I was the only one there. While I was sitting in the smoking section, watching an old Leon Schuster movie with more than subtle racism gilded by the luster of overt liberalism, people started to arrive, mostly... girls. After a bit of friendly chin-wagging (talking, you Cretans) I found out that these girls were students in the only University/College that specialises in animal anatomy in the world, or at least that lest you do a degree in it without having to wast time on boring old human anatomy. Who cares about people right? But seriously, the girls sounded very passionate about what they did, and they were nice enough to not spray me with mace multiple times.....

All in all it was a good night, but I still couldn't find any great love for Plett. I mean, yes it is pretty, but nothing to warrant the mega wealthy losing voluntary control of their check books and building an airport. But then again I am not mega wealthy, so I am certain there are a lot of "special" things about Plett to which I don't know the secret handshake for.

If you do know the handshake, please tell me.