The Cape Peninsula: Pen and Colour Sketches — John Shaqi
The Cape Peninsula: Pen and Colour SketchesHansard, Réné
History
The Cape Peninsula: Pen and Colour Sketches
Hansard, Réné
Cape of Good Hope (South Africa) -- Description and travel; Eastern Cape (South Africa) -- Description and travel
Sea Point lies, white-roofed and aloe-hedged, under the sanctified
Lion's Head Mountain; sanctified, because of a great white cross
scarred into the bare rock by a nation to whom crosses and scars were
almost inseparable. Da Gama's gigantic cross on the Lion's Head is one
of the many to be found round the coast; but here begins and ends
every trace of Portuguese possession or atmosphere in the Cape
Peninsula.
[Illustration: ON THE VICTORIA ROAD, NEAR OUDE KRAAL]
Old Sea Point savours of ancient Dutch régime, but is hedged in on
every side, hidden, almost lost, by Cape Town Commerce _chez eux_. But
along the Beach Road, running from the old Downs, or Common, to the
Queen's Hotel, are houses with names which are historical:
flat-roofed, whitewashed houses, with high stoeps and stucco
fountains, syringa-trees, cactus plants, and hedges of flaming red
aloes behind their white garden walls; old-fashioned gardens with
box and myrtle hedges, lichens and gaudy mesembryanthemums crawling
like giant starfish over the walls. Edging the road and hiding the
beach from travellers are thick hedges of kei-apple, a prickly red
berry, and of a low shrub whose leaves furnished correct food for the
imported French snails, whose descendants are purely a pest and have
no justification. But the French-lavender hedges and pink Huguenot
roses can still say 'Bonjour' to the snails. It is the only French
word any of them remember; it is prettier than the 'Dag,' which the
prickly-pear, gorgeous with orange and carmine flower, grunts across
the road to the hedge of wax berries; it is prettier, too, than the
'Morgen,' which is the large white 'Frau Karl Druschki's' morning
greeting; just a little daintier than 'Saka bona,' from the purple
jacaranda and scarlet kaffir-boom; but far, far more charming than the
chorus of 'Hullo! hullo!' from the cheerful English trees and plants
in this white-walled garden. And then there is the sea--not the
wind-swept sea of False Bay, but a cosmopolitan sea; a highroad, where
ships of many flags sail past the rocks, bound for the world.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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