From Hout Bay, the journey continued on the scenic Chapmans Peak Drive. This road is carved onto the rocky steep slope which dropped vertically below into the blue Atlantic. It twists and turns and provides fantastic sceneries along the way. The road stretched from Hout Bay to Noordhoek. It is best appreciated from the few view points along the road. The journey continued past Noordhoek until it emerged into a wilderness rocky area blasted by strong westerly wind and pounding waves onto the high cliff rocky coastline. This is Cape Point at, the end of the African continent. Not quite. Two oceans, Indian and Atlantic do merge but about 150km east at Port Agulhas. However, for romantic reasons, this is the ends of Africa. Beyond this point south, is Antarctica. This is a wind-swept area. Hardy fynbos vegetation are swayed to one side. To the east, beyond the gray mountains and shimmering sea is a vast gray ocean. To the west, wild open blue water. A cable train helped those with weary legs to the lighthouse above. Baboons gathered in numbers amongst the vegetation.
On the ledges of this rocky cliff, with a precipitous drop, birds perch into tiny nest. The swirling white water pounded onto the cliff base with fury. Mist arose to sprinkle onto whoever venture here. The last outpost is lonely lighthouse. Solidly built in order to perform its function. These are dangerous waters to seafarers. Cape Point did not form part of my history memory. The names like Bartholomew Diaz, Vasco da Gama and Alfonso de Albuque [Malaysia history] are linked to the discovery of a passage round the bottom end of Africa. The name Cape of Good Hope is etched in my memory. From Cape Point, I looked out towards the west, a tiny peninsula juts out into the torrent sea – the most southerly point of the African continent. It was previously called ‘Cabo Tormentoso’ or Cape of Storms due to its treacherous conditions for sailors. The adjoining white sandy Dias Beach, a hundred meters below, looked inviting. In 2009, I was standing in Isla Navirino, wind-swept bitterly cold island just before Cape Horn, where the Atlantic and Pacific met, in South America. It was a good feeling. I walked toward Cape of Good Hope, a handsome pair of ostrich trotted across the flat fynbos vegetation prevalent here. It was windy. Cormorants rested on rocks smashed by strong waves. Numerous patterns remained etched onto the rocky sandstone cliff that told the story of their past. They share similarities with the geology of Table Mountain. This is a highlight for me. It is wild and unspoilt, scenic and rugged.
From here, we headed east towards Simons Town to a place called Boulders Beach to watch the lovable African Penguins. It rained and soon we were back to the hotel. I relished my lavish abode, at least for one night. At dinner, I was the only vegetarian at this restaurant that specialised in game meat – zebra, kudu, Springbok and a few more. I could not come to terms with it, although all these animals are farmed. I looked forward to my African adventure. The small group looked accommodating and affable. I like travelling independently, but accessibility into Namib is tricky. This seemed like the next best option.