The Colour of Excitement!

When I see even the tiniest dot of red in the distance I'm like a woman possessed.  No matter the distance, the discomfort or the dire state of my knees, I have to investigate.  There was an old iron structure next to the red chair (no photographic potential) but my ever-patient husband very kindly trudged ahead and moved it off to one side.  So, dropping  ungracefully, to the ground and lying on my stomach, this was the result.

The getting-up-off-the-sand process was no more pretty and somewhat resembled a giraffe at a waterhole, but we'll draw a veil over that, and go on to the next picture.

Many, many pictures followed, as I found myself snapping away happily from different angles, leaning inside and looking through the structure.  No, I didn't try and climb up.  I would have liked to but I wasn't being paid danger money by the cold drink company.  Finally, I found an unusual framing for the distant group of houses.

On the long trek back to the bridge I noticed this line of green dustbins heading off into the distance, making an image almost as pleasing as the lifesaver's chair, I thought.  It made me think of stumbling through a distant desert looking for water and finding trashcans instead - ah, the despair.

And now for the slog back across my own particular desert to the bridge over the lagoon.  Just as scenes from my childhood were beginning to flash past my eyes (yes, I know that's a bit dramatic, but it was hot) we crossed the bridge, bought cold drinks from the boat hire kiosk and collapsed on to the benches to recover.  All in all, a most satisfying morning.

Home from the sea

Hout Bay, a small town, at one end of the spectacular cliff hugging Chapman's Peak Drive, is jokingly but affectionately referred to by its residents as The Republic of Hout Bay.  Part of its charm is due in no small part to the fishing harbour, where brightly coloured boats sway gently at anchor and screaming gulls wheel overhead.

 Vessels painted in soft turquoise contrast pleasingly with a yellow boat, trimmed in royal blue, the whole set off by a scarlet fishing tackle box.  Even the name of one of the boats, Oceana Amethyst, seems appropriate to the palette of colours.

As well as an excellent seafood restaurant, there's a takeaway kiosk called Snoekies which sells the most marvellous fried battered fish and calamari, straight from the ocean, as well as the best french fries you'll ever taste.  There's nothing better than sitting on the rocks, dipping into steaming hot fish and salty chips, fragrant with lemon and vinegar, occasionally tossing a chip to a beseeching seagull as you watch the passing parade of fishing boats and yachts.

 The harbour is also home to numerous yachts, from luxurious ocean going and serious racing vessels to the smallest one person crafts.

Beautiful as all these larger views are, I am irresistibly drawn to the smaller scenes like this.  I looked down on to the water and saw this piece of wood floating on the surface.  It had obviously been used for painting the boats and, together with the coiled rope, somehow reminded me of a Jackson Pollock painting.

I'm not sure what this part of a boat's anatomy would be called but I thought it made an interesting composition.

And there's that orange again ...

Another boat in the Oceana fleet.

And one final picture to make the senses sing with joy, the primary colours, tied together with beautiful plaited rope.

People watching

When the weather's hot and there's a comfortable bench in the shade, what better way to spend some time than resting and watching the passing parade in all its interest and variety.

Or you can sit down an enjoy an icecream and let different rock bands and singers entertain you.

With no tripod, my daughter found a convenient pole to steady herself while taking pictures.

Seagulls constantly wheeling in great arcs over the harbour, add to the general hum of music and conversation with their plaintive cries.  This one, perched on a pole just below a restaurant which jutted out over the water, kept a beady eye out for scraps, his cries becoming more and more raucous, it has to be said.

A veritable United Nations of colourful flags.

The Spirit of Victoria moving gently to and fro as she lies at anchor in the harbour.  Imagine anchoring off a beautiful beach and sunbathing, your lithe, bronzed and toned body in a tiny white bikini - sigh ...

"No guts, no glory" reads the sign on this pirate ship above these headsof these little children.  After being deliciously "terrified"  of the teenage boys dressed up in pirate gear and flourishing cardboard cutlasses, they could hardly wait to be off to sail the ocean deep.

Meanwhile, their parents were probably thinking more in terms of something like this.

The more adventurous spirits, life jackets on and strapping themselves in place, prepare to leave on a high speed chase across the water.

All the elements of a working harbour and a place where Capetonians and visitors from countries all over the world can mingle and enjoy themselves in complete safety.

And finally, an unusual view of Devil's Peak and part of Table Mountain, with veils of mist creeping down the flanks of the mountain.

Paddling your own canoe

At a bright yellow hut on the grassy slopes of the lawns leading down to the Bot River lagoon in Kleinmond you can hire a canoe, paddleski or kayak and spend some quality time paddling around with seagulls and waterbirds as your only companions.  In winter that is, because in summer you'll be joined by hordes of holidaymakers.  In the meantime, the late afternoon is a marvellous time to enjoy the bright colours of the ticket kiosk and the neatly stacked boats.

Crazy daisies.  I like to think about the person who sat down with a few pots of paint and decorated the boats with these little flowers, which will somehow always remind me of the Seventies.

Read the rules!

Gently peeling layers of paint, scintillating colours and golden afternoon light - it doesn't get more attractive than this.

Number 40 and Number 53 don't seem to have been out for a long time, judging by the grass growing up around them.

Sometimes you just can't resist adding yourself to the picture.

On the way back to Betty's Bay I noticed this arrangement on the front veranda of one of the beach houses.  Possible title - Still Life with Pink Watering Can and Blue Bench, perhaps ?

Car brakes hastily applied, car coming to a standstill in a cloud of dust and me leaping out to snap this interesting shop tucked at the foot of the mountain.

And it's back to Betty's Bay for a glass of wine and a barbecue while taking in the beauty of another spectacular sunset.