As most of you know by now, our grand plan, or as the bankers and military tacticians would call it, our strategic plan, to escape the Florida hurricanes, is to find a peaceful corner of the world, establish expat residence there for three or four months and call it our “Base Camp”. The rest of the plan is to program activities and relatively short side trips to thoroughly explore the region around our Base Camp. This year our Base Camp is Cape Town, and our side trips to date have included two safari camps with Ron Magill, one in Kwazulu Natal and the other at Sabi Sands, (see “On Safari” at this web site), two safari camps in Zambia which Joyce and I went to by ourselves, (see “Zambia”) and our trip to Hermanus and Plettenberg up the east coast along the Garden Route (see “Cape Town II”).

The rest of our program here includes three other side trips; the first is our visit to Bushman’s Kloof in the Cederberg Mountains, west of Cape Town; the second is a luxurious journey on Rovos Rail; and the third is a trip to the Skeleton coast in Namibia and yet another safari camp, Camp Jabulani, in northern South Africa. Like in the early days of my romance with Joyce, we are joined on this side trip by Joyce’s friend Carol and her granddaughter Natalee. As usual, I am to be the coq of the roost throughout this voyage.

Bushman’s Kloof (Kloof means ravine in Afrikaans) is a manageable drive from Cape Town which takes you some 300 miles northwest through the Western Cape into the Cederberg mountains. After following a bucolic highway through rolling hills and flat lands, bordered by fields full of early spring wildflowers in stunning colors and grazing sheep and cattle, we reached Citrusdal which, as the name implies, is the citrus capital of the region. Indeed, oranges hang profusely from groves of trees which dominate the landscape. Oranges and other citrus fruits are also seen piled high on roadside stands and storage areas visible from the highway. Citrusdal is the gateway into the mountains. This is proclaimed by a spectacularly curvy road whose hairpin turns take you over a pass which leads to a wide valley carved by the Hex River. As the valley narrows, the river turns into a dam near the town of Clanwilliam. This is the jumping off point for the last leg of the drive to Bushman’s Kloof. This is where we stopped for lunch. This is where we called the Camp to announce our imminent arrival. This is where we let air out of our tires to better manage the 30 mile unpaved road that would bring us to the camp, and this is where we girded our loins in expectations of a pretty bumpy ride. We had had dire reports about that road, ranging from advice to get a four wheel drive vehicle or at least one with a high chassis, to predictions that we would most certainly get stuck in the mud.

Well, we were lucky. The heavy rains had occurred the week prior and the road, except for a couple of place where the car’s fording capabilities had to be tested, was relatively dry. Joyce did a masterful job of dodging ruts and pot holes, and I did a commendable job of urging her vociferously to slow down when she did not succeed - I tend to be useful that way!

Bushman’s Kloof Wilderness Reserve is not the kind of camp where they wake you before dawn for a game drive. Nor is it the kind where they stick you in a tent where you must be escorted to the dining area by an armed guard to protect you from the wildlife after dark. No, it’s nothing like that. It is a Relais & Chateaux operation in a magnificent setting, seemingly dedicated to meet your every wish. When we arrived, our car and our bags disappeared like magic, to find their place in our bungalow. We were introduced to Hendri who henceforth was to be our ever-present slave for the duration of our stay. He was our driver, our guide, our butler etc.; he was ours - period. The bungalow was opulent. Its style was Dutch Colonial with white washed walls that enhanced the brilliance of the colorful field flowers that surround the property. The black thatched roof overhanging the white walls further reinforced the effect that the entire place was a charming Dutch village in the middle of Holland amidst fields of wild flowers. Inside, things were not too shabby either. Our hosts wanted to make sure that we would be warm. We had under-floor heating, a high capacity electric heater and individually controlled electric blankets. As if this wasn’t enough, we also had a wood burning fireplace fully supplied with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of wood and tinder. It was heaven. I almost neglected to mention that the bungalow had two bathrooms; one with a shower, the other with a claw-footed tub.

After we checked in, it was about 3:00 PM and time for tea. Indeed, it was high tea with a vengeance. Scones and clotted cram with jam, canapés, cucumber sandwiches, pastries, etc. At 4:00 PM we were invited to the twilight game drive. However, except for some herds of antelopes, a wild rabbit and lots of birds, we soon realized that spotting game was not the forte of this destination. Hendri nevertheless made a heroic effort in identifying and listing the pedigree of every plant and leaf we encountered. I found it interesting that, although we were driving on high ground, the sandstone formations which looked like wind erosion, were actually formed by the waters that were part of the ocean at a time, billion of years ago, when the American and the African continents were one. The most amazing thing about the game drive however, was the fact that when we piled into the Rover, we each found a warm furry poncho on our lap and…miracle of miracles…a hot water bottle.

The Bushmans Kloof Reservation encompasses some 16,000 acres of wilderness surrounded by a wind-sculpted landscape of ancient sandstone rock formations in the Cederberg Mountains. The area is renowned for its 130 ancient rock art sites. Hendri showed us three of these in the course of our stay and, I must say, though I was not overwhelmed by the work, there were some remarkable details in what we saw. For example, the fact that the dye used centuries ago to endow the art with a distinctive red hue has survived this long is truly amazing. Even more so is the sense of perspective that the drawings, painted by these ancient people, show in their depictions of human and animal figures. One could speculate that, in this respect at least, the civilization that created these stone carvings may have been at least as advanced, in this respect, as the Egyptians, who never did master the ¾ view of things. Egyptian art may have been exquisitely stylized, but it is unquestionably frozen in two dimensions.

Breakfast the next morning was at a decent hour, and well after sun rise. In the course of the day, there was plenty of time to enjoy the beauty of the place. We never tired of the drama furnished by the escarpments on the other side of the ravine (Kloof) on which the camp is perched. The rocky formations of these escarpments that surround the camp are truly spectacular.

Of course, the comfort of our bungalow was a commodity that we wanted to put to maximum advantage. And so, we eschewed the afternoon game drive; Joyce opted for a spa treatment and I was determined to make solid progress in a novel that I should have finished reading long ago.

Our meals were served in a charming environment in the main lodge. However, for the evening of our last night, we were offered the choice of having dinner in our bungalow. Without too much hesitation, we accepted the offer. We are not usually enthused by the prospect of room service, but this was not room service any more than then the game drive was a game drive! This was a formal dinner in our home (the bungalow), with the staff lighting the fire and the candles, a regular table properly set for a multi-course dinner and a private butler and a helper shuttling between the kitchen and our bungalow. With the fire crackling in the background and the lights dimmed, it was indescribably romantic!

Two days at Bushmans Kloof was clearly not enough, so we decided to extend the adventure by taking the long way back. The unpaved road was inevitable, as was the ride to Citrusdal. At that point, however, we did not continue our drive South to Cape Town. Instead, we detoured west and eventually reached the Atlantic coast at St Helena Bay. We then hugged the coast till we reached a place called Shelley Bay Point, where we had reserved a room in a lovely ocean front hotel The Oyster Catcher, named not, as I had thought, after a food theme, but after a kind of shore bird. The hotel, recommended to us by the people at Bushmans Kloof, was very new, quite comfortable with a beautiful setting right at the oceanfront. But it had no personality. The place was bare and sterile. More importantly, food service was limited to breakfast. It was really a glorified B&B.

Shelley Bay Point is a large subdivision of vacation residences protected by the most stringent security management we had yet encountered in this security conscious country. With little else to keep us in the area, we pushed on to the extreme point of the coast, occupied by the little town of Paternoster, which turned out to be yet another grouping of vacation resort residences. Continuing our meandering path back towards Cape Town, we reached the West Coast National Park, where carpets of spring flowers sprung up from recent rains treated us to an exuberant display of colors, strangely reminiscent of Hollywood’s slight of hand in “The Wizard of Oz”, when the director turned the black and white screen into Technicolor. It was amazing how color provided by thousands of little flowers could turn an ordinary landscape into a festival and a celebration of spring! It was a wonderful way to complete our trip to Bushmans Kloof.

We barely got home and it was time to get ready for our next adventure. It was the one I had really been looking forward to; our journey on Rovos Rail. It normally takes months, if not years, to secure a reservation on this super luxury train. We had wanted get on this train for 10 years, ever since having had the opportunity to see it while it was laying over at Victoria Falls, where a conductor we had bribed showed us a couple of the sleeping cars, and we were hopelessly smitten.

We called Rovos on an impulse, to see what they could do in our rapidly narrowing window of time between our return from Bushmans Kloof and our side trip to Namibia. Good news!! It just so happen that Rovos had organized an extra train from Pretoria to Cape Town for that week, and one last outrageously expensive suite was available for the two day trip.
Of course we couldn’t resist!

It sounded wonderfully ridiculous. First, we would have to drive to the Cape Town airport, park our car there, then fly to Johannesburg, where we would be met by a Rovos representative who would drive us to Pretoria and deposit us at the Rovos train station there, only to board the train which would take us to the Cape Town Railway Station two days later. On arrival back in Cape Town, we would be driven from the train station to the Cape Town airport, back to our parking space there. That’s a lot of moving parts to stay in the same place, but it was worth it!
Rovos Rail is the dream fulfillment of Rohan Vos, who proudly proclaims, as he is quoted in the train’s brochure: “When I was 40, I was well off (he sold some of his fifteen businesses to finance his rail adventures, which hints at his wealth). Now I’m broke, but boy I have got a great train set!” Indeed he does, with five working steam locomotives and 60 historic coaches including saloon, sleeping, kitchen and dining cars. The most antique locomotive is a venerable 110 years old, and the newest was built in Scotland in 1954. Rovos also has an enviable network of routes that touch virtually every tourist destination in Africa, including Cairo. Rovos Rail represents unquestionably the quintessential train experience in Africa…if not the world. To achieve this feat, Voss had to overcome seemingly impossible odds. When Vos first decided on his rail venture, he wanted to call his train the “Spring Bok”. The Government, for unexplained reasons, said “No”. Undeterred, Vos then decided to name the train Rovos, by contracting his first name Rohan, with his family name, Vos! But, as a practical matter, this was only a minor obstacle. Far more challenging is the fact that the government owns the diesel locomotives and controls their supply, the right of way and the tracks on which the train moves; and to stick yet another thorn in this enterprise, the government has now acquired the legendary “Blue Train” to compete with Rovos.

Yet Rovos has survived and the word is that the “Blue Train” is not what it used to be. Not only that, but Rovos keeps going up-market to fulfill its claim as “The Most Luxurious Train in the World”. It offers a range of trips, destinations and travel experiences we had never suspected. For example, we found out that Rovos is now scheduling a month-long voyage to Cairo, Egypt. Its brochure lists a package it refers to as an “African Collage” of destinations which involves a 3,400 kilometer, 29 day journey including game drives, visits to enchanting places in all directions from Cape Town including a golf estate, an ostrich farm, an elephant park, a brandy distillery and the dramatic geographic features through mountainous areas which the train encounters on its journey from Pretoria to Cape Town. The same brochure also lists air safaris, golf safaris and private train/air charters.

But the real story is the train itself. The trains carry a maximum of 72 passengers in 36 superbly appointed suites. The coaches are all lacquered wood paneled, completely refurbished and in mint condition. The furnishings are classic Victorian or Edwardian in style, with the Club Car, the Observation Car, at the end of the train and the Smoking Car replete with overstuffed couches and arm chairs. The staff in these cars is immaculately dressed, bow tie and all, and constantly at hand to satisfy the slightest desired of the guests.

Clearly, we were private guests of Rohan Vos (who either sends off or meets every train), not passengers on some kind of commercial enterprise. Everything is retro, from the silverware in the glittery dining car to the decoration of the individual cabins. These are appropriately called “Suites” and, as in all modes of transportation, there are different classes. The “Pullman Suite” measures 76 sq ft and occupies about a quarter of a coach. In the next class up, there is the “Deluxe Suite”. That’s what we had booked. Somewhat larger than the Pullman Suite, it measure 118 sq ft and occupies about one third of a car. And then there are the four “Royal Suites” (next time!) which are about half a car long, measure a lavish 172 sq ft and contain their own private lounge area and, unlike the other suites, a Victorian claw footed bath tub. Try to stick that on an Airbus!

All the suites have either King or twin beds, full en-suite bathroom, including a seemingly inexhaustible hot water shower; they are completely climate controlled and cushy as only a five star hospitality can be. The suites are beautifully equipped and decorated with a personal safe, original art on the walls, fresh flowers, writing desk, armchairs and plenty of storage space. The amenities include bath robes and the usual soaps, shampoos etc. expected in a 5 star hotel. It goes without saying that the service is far better and more attentive than what is found in most luxury hotels.

The meals were all haute-cuisine, with formal service in the dining car. There is a dress code which is loosely enforced. Gentlemen had to wear jackets and ties, and we noticed that most of our fellow passengers tried their best to match the elegance of the train. Many succeeded, but some fell short.

The passengers were both interesting and diverse; many were European; there was a large American family which had booked three suites, including one of the Royal Suites. They had done this to celebrate the grandson’s Bar Mitzvah in lieu of the kind of obscenely lavish party that often follows the ceremony. We hastened to congratulate the father, an investment banker, for the wisdom of his decision, when we had a chance to become acquainted over a cigar and a snifter of Cognac in the smoking car.

Joyce and I spent a lot of time in the observation car, where cocktails were served before the formal meals and where high tea, complete with scones, clotted cream, jams and cucumber sandwiches was served with great elegance while the wonderful scenery was unrolling through the rear of the moving train.

Our two-night, three-day journey on Rovos Rail from Pretoria to Cape Town really started at the Capital Park Station in Pretoria, where the driver who had collected us at the Johannesburg airport dropped us off. There, we walked into a comfortable large Victorian “living room”, where our fellow passengers were milling around, waiting for train time. Outside on the platform, a magnificent steam locomotive was sitting, puffing away gently, waiting to flex the massive pistons and gears that would later launch the big machine into motion.

Alas, once we got underway, we never saw that locomotive in action. These iron monsters use 300 liters of water and 150 pounds of coal per kilometer. As such, they require a water refill every 40 or so miles and more coal every 200 miles. And so, nostalgia lost out to efficiency, economics and technology, and the ubiquitous diesel engine has replaced the steam locomotive. The only remnant of the steam era we encountered was a pair of goggles that were provided in our suite to keep the cinders out of our eyes in case we wanted to crane our necks from the windows.

Our itinerary included a stop in Kimberly and a visit to the “Big Hole”. This is the center of Africa’s diamond industry and the De Beers headquarters. Disney could not have done better. The place was a museum, exhibiting through cinema and a wide range of reproductions the history of diamonds, the main characters involved in growing the diamond industry from mining to trading and the techniques used to extract diamonds from the earth.

We found it interesting that Johannes Nicholaas de Beers was merely a homesteader in Kimberly where the first diamond mine was found, and that the real power that eventually became the legendary De Beers Mining Company was organized and eventually turned into a diamond empire by Cecil Rhodes.

Our short trip on Rovos Rail convinced us that, indeed, this is “The Most Luxurious Train in the World”. More importantly, it brought home the fact that, for leisure travel at least, gliding on steel tracks or floating on water are far better alternatives for getting there than airplanes and the nightmarish treatment their passengers are subjected to.

The last side trip, before our return home to Key Biscayne, is our visit to the Skeleton Coast in Namibia and our three day visit with the elephants at Camp Jabulani. Rather than extend this already longish tale beyond the reader’s endurance, this last tale will get its own separate entry in the journal under the title “Epilogue to Cape Town” – after we get home.