A few of us went paragliding one fine sunny day. On Signal Hill, we signed some papers. As an American, this made perfect sense to me. The people we were putting our lives into the hands of needed to protect themselves. My Taiwanese friends found it suspicious. They are not from a litigious culture. If you die while doing something risky, that is an unlucky day, not a lawsuit.
Paperwork out of the way, we all strapped into separate contraptions. Since this was tandem paragliding, each of us went with a “pilot”. The passenger sat on a little cushion while the pilot lay back on a much bigger cushion. Had we plummeted to our deaths, I doubt that padding on our butts would have made much difference. Looking up at the wing, I never worried about it. The wing was nothing like a flimsy World War II parachute. It was made of some science fiction material in a complicated structural design. When the pilot explained how air flows into the wing through tiny holes, I knew someone put far more thought into it than I ever would have. I saw a video once of someone paragliding and the straps to their wing broke. The wing kept flying, but obviously they did not. Our harness was attached to the wing by a dozen different lines on each side. That wing was not going anywhere without us.
We left the earth from a large tarp rather than the grass. I still have no idea why. Running off the edge of Signal Hill felt a little counterintuitive at the time, but since everything was designed properly and the pilot knew what he was doing, we started going up before gravity even had a chance to bring us down. Within seconds, we were floating above Sea Point, a beach community separated from the city centre by Signal Hill. We headed straight for the Atlantic, which might sound like a bad idea, but on the highly unlikely chance that you crash, it is better to crash in the water than into someone's house or on a busy street. More importantly, once over the water, the pilot can turn around and face toward Signal Hill, Lion's Head, Table Mountain, and the Twelve Apostles. Superman could not get a better view.
While over the water, the pilot asked me how adventurous I was. There is no way that cannot be a loaded question, so I told him to do whatever he was planning. Before I knew it, we were upside down. I thought he was making a sharp turn, which he did, but then the turn kept going and we did a quick loop. Before we left Signal Hill, each pilot asked each passenger if they were afraid of heights. Our reactions told them how gentle they had to be with us in the air. None of my Taiwanese friends ever went upside down.
Landing required more than a few turns to slow us down. I thought we were going to the beach, but we landed in a flat park on the Sea Point Promenade. Touchdown was surprisingly gentle. Our paragliding trip was outstanding, but that company only launched from Signal Hill and only flew over Sea Point. At least for tandem rides. If you know how to do it yourself, the options in Cape Town are practically unlimited. If you want to hire someone to fly you around, you go where they go.
Photograph by Peter Chadwick
On a completely different day, we stayed much closer to sea level. Just up the coast from Cape Town is the West Coast National Park Marine Protected Area. The park is a birdwatcher's paradise, but we went for the water. Since Langebaan Lagoon does not allow any commercial vehicles, everyone goes there to swim and sail. We went to kayak. The calm lagoon did not provide any challenges, but Kraal Bay and the white sandy beaches were well worth the trip.
The national park ends at the northern tip of the lagoon. There are a few houses and B&Bs before you reach the city of Langebaan. Nature gets replaced by expensive houses, restaurants, and a yacht club long before you reach Langebaan Beach. On the southern end of the lagoon, the only thing you are going to see between water and sky are beaches, rocky coasts, and a lot of green. And boats on the water. We never saw any jet skis or loud boats. The lagoon looks like a great place to ride a jet ski. It is also a bird sanctuary, so maybe noisy boats are not allowed. Every boat we saw that day was a catamaran. There were a few houseboats in Kraal Bay, but not enough to spoil the view. They were nothing like the houseboats of Amsterdam. I never looked into it, but my impression was that they were vacation rentals. Assuming you have daily access to a boat, that would not be a bad place to vacation.
A different kayak ride on a different day took us down the Cape Peninsula. Or at least down part of it. Rounding the cape in a kayak would be unnecessarily dangerous. Thousands of ships designed to sail around the world are buried at the Cape of Good Hope. Kayaks are not designed to cross oceans.
We were pretty much on our own at Langebaan Lagoon. They gave us the kayaks and let us run wild. The lagoon kept us from wandering too far away. The Cape Peninsula covers a much larger area and is surrounded by much deeper water. This one was a guided tour by necessity. We stayed on the False Bay side for a reason. While you can kayak on the Atlantic coast, it is more dangerous. You only have to go a few kilometers out to reach deep water. False Bay slopes down gradually. You would have to paddle for at least 40 kilometers out of the bay before the ocean floor plummets.
From Windmill Beach in Simon's Town, we went north for a few minutes for the sole purpose of kayaking with penguins. On Foxy Beach, you can look at penguins from a separate walkway. On Boulders Beach, you can build sand castles with penguins on the rare occasion they make their way over the boulders. Out in the water between the two, you can try to swim with penguins, but they are far more cautious than they are on land. That makes sense when their predators live in the water. They are probably unaware of how dangerous humans on land can be.
For whatever reason, penguins are not at all afraid of kayaks. They seem to know that a kayak is not a seal or shark. Like dolphins to boats, they wanted to swim along with us. As soon as we stopped, they lost interest and swam away. They were attracted to the movement of the kayaks, not the annoying people inside. Kayaking alongside a swimming penguin was easy. Petting a swimming penguin was impossible.
Down the east coast of the Cape Peninsula is the Venus Pool, one of several natural tide pools in Table Mountain National Park. Venus Pool is larger than a backyard swimming pool, though not as deep. If not for all the rocks, it would be an excellent place to teach a child how to swim. Had we brought snorkels, it would have been a great place to go snorkeling. You get plenty of sea life in calm water protected from the rest of the bay. My friends were surprised to see so many mussels and starfish in their natural habitat. Back home, you would only see them for sale as food.
Part of the tide pool is bordered by flat rocks that happen to be a great place to sit and take a break. They look like they were built by humans on purpose, but nature constructed them without our convenience in mind. Everything about the pool begged us to stay all day, but we were on a guided kayak tour. We had to hit the open water.
Paddling back to Simon's Town, we spotted several otters. Rather than huddle together in a group, they were spread out over a two kilometer stretch of water. Most of them were swimming with far more grace and skill than any of us were working our kayaks. Some stood on the rocks along the shore and watched us. They were all smart enough to stay away. We knew from their body language alone that we would not have any otters swimming alongside us that day. Petting a penguin is rare, but not impossible. I think the only way to pet an otter would be if it was sick or captive. When dry, their fur looked soft and a little luxurious, not that any were ever going to let us near them. When wet, they looked like tiny seals. Their fur almost resembled thick skin. Their webbed feet were also more obvious. That webbing was not at all noticeable on land.
While kayaking along the cape and in the lagoon, I knew I would probably never do any of this ever again. I could very well find myself in a kayak someday, but most likely in a different location. If I lived in Cape Town, I could go outdoors every day and explore every inch of the city. We were there for such a short amount of time, I never dug below the surface.
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