The morning was warm, but the early morning coolness still lingered in the indigenous forest. We zigzagged up the steep staircase that makes up the first half of the trail up Skeleton Gorge. We were only a third of the way up but our breathing was heavy and our hearts were racing.
I paused to look around. It was stunning. We were fully immersed in the forest with a gentle stream trickling by to our right. I admired the twisted shapes of the old trees, all scrambling for sunlight. Then we moved on again, pushing upwards.
Hiking never goes quite as planned with Oda. We decide on a route the night before, but by the time we climb into an Uber our decision has completely changed. This morning we were unsure of what to tackle.
This Sunday promised to be beautiful. It was 8 am, and the wind stood still. The temperature already sat in the low twenties. It was going to be hot.
The winding staircase up Skeleton Gorge, starting from Kirstenbosch Gardens.
“Why don’t we do Skeleton Gorge? They have a dam at the top where we can picnic and relax,” Oda suggested. But by the time we got to Kirstenbosch Gardens, we had decided to hike right across the top of Table Mountain from Skeleton Gorge to the Cable Car. So we stopped by Woolworths en route to stock up on supplies.
The hike, as I worked out afterwards, was just over 10km long, and took us a total of six hours. I am not an avid hiker. Oda is the adventurer of our group. But I loved it! The view made it absolutely worth it.
Once we picked our way up the staircase, we emerged from the forest to be greeted by a breathtaking vista of False Bay and Muizenberg. We immediately felt the temperature difference but welcomed the warmth.
Oda finding the horizon in the distance, Skeleton Gorge.
Not a bad view, hey? Greeted by False Bay and the Hottentot Holland Mountains.
We soon reached the dam at the top of the Skeleton Gorge route and decided to take a 30-minute timeout after that steep hike up. The pool was refreshingly cool, and we made ourselves at home on a little rock outcrop hanging over the water.
Taking a moment to meditate in this peaceful landscape on top of Skeleton Gorge.
Settling down for our well-deserved break on top of Skeleton Gorge.
Oda and I took few minutes just to soak up the silence. We could hear the world buzzing around us. Bees were doing their daily commute and a bird called out across the stillness. But the silence was short lived. Soon more and more bodies emerged from the forest and joined us at the pool.
Then we were off again.
We set off with renewed energy, eagerly bouncing past many people on the trail. The morning sunlight began to warm – but we didn’t let it wear us down. Onwards and upwards we pushed. This part of the trail gave us a beautiful 360° of the mountain and the low-lying coastal suburbs.
Feeling like I’m on top of the world on Table Mountain.
We very quickly completed the first leg of the journey to reach the Maclear’s Beacon. The fynbos smelt fresh, and the air felt thick with the scent of nature. Bees were darting back and forth across the trail, and we had to be careful to avoid stepping on the lizards scampering across the way.
The indigenous King Protea blooming on Table Mountain.
Up here the sounds of the city don’t exist. The only sounds interrupting the sounds of nature is your own heavy breathing.
Gazing at the fractured horizon of the Cape Peninsula.
When we finally reached the front of Table Mountain, we joined with a larger group of hikers. It was fun hearing all the accents and guessing where everyone had travelled from. I heard the familiar sound of Arabic spill over my ears, interrupted by short barks from the German tourists. Many Americans were also scampering around the mountainside. It was fun hearing their stories of how they made it to the top of Table Mountain that morning.
Only once you reach the plateau of Table Mountain do you fully recognise that this landscape lay underwater millions of years ago. The sandstone capping the mountain was riddled with potholes from water weathering. It made for a fascinating landscape to traverse.
The potted surface of the Table Mountain Plateau.
Oda and I decided to have our lunch break near the precipice of the Table Mountain plateau, overlooking Cape Town City Bowl. We found our little rock outcrop and unpacked our picnic basket.
Lunch on top of Table Mountain.
Lunch was a delicious BLT sandwich from Woolworths and a trail mix of cranberries, nuts and raisins, and whatever else we hadn’t eaten while summiting the mountain. Nothing tastes as good as food consumed in the outdoors after a four-hour hike. Biting into that sandwich, feeling the crunch of the crispy bacon and the soft cheddar cheese melt in my mouth, while blessed with this view from Cape Town made me wonder: what could be better than this?
Conquering Table Mountain!
Now came the tough part. Our legs were quite tired from the hike so far, and the thermometer kept climbing. It was well over 30°C by now, and it was 1 pm. So it came to the toss-up: to take the cable car down, or to hike.
We decided this decision was best made while enjoying a Magnum ice cream. Heading down Plattekip Gorge
The cableway area was buzzing with foreign accents and people from all walks of life enjoying the view from the top of Table Mountain. Apart from a bird’s eye view of the city, this peak grants you a panoramic view of the Twelve Apostles and Camp’s Bay.
The rich coastal landscape of the Cape Peninsula.
After a bit of research and spending too much time in a crowded place, we decided to push down the mountain along the treacherous Platteklip path. A one-way cable car ride down would cost R135; a bit expensive if you’re on a student budget.
It is usually the last leg of the journey that feels the longest. As we set off, I thought it would take a quick hour to dismount the mountain. Oda did warn me that it was steep and tedious, but I was revitalised after the ice cream and high on life, so I felt optimistic.
The first bit we descended in the shade. I could quickly see what Oda meant by tedious. The rocky steps were quite tall, and I had to focus very hard to ensure that I don’t injure my knees while coming down. Some of the rocks were quite slippery too – making it all the more challenging.
The steep descent down the Platteklip Gorge trail.
Any optimism I had about descending quickly evaporated into the African sun. Once we emerged from the shade, the sun beat down on us. The light was harsh and our breathing became very shallow. We focussed on the repetitive stepping down motion – taking it one step at a time.
While we were going down, we passed dozens of people climbing up. They ranged from ages, including a six-year-old, and nationalities. What madness to try to ascend Platteklip in the middle of the day! We were in awe of their bravery. The last bit was the toughest. Our water was running low, and my legs were trembling uncontrollably. I made sure I tensed the right muscles with every step, but it became increasingly tougher.
Suddenly, an eerie voice echoed into the ravine. Someone was singing. I couldn’t place the song or the genre. The beautiful voice carried down the mountain, telling stories of travellers in a far away land. I felt transported to a different time. There was something magical about this melody. I felt my energy return and bounced eagerly down the last couple of hundred metres – elevated by the strange song.
Oda and I were very relieved to touch down on the flat surface – we could almost have kissed the tar road! I looked back at Platteklip Gorge and thought ‘Hah! Today I conquered you!’. This six-hour trip was one of the best hiking trips I had ever embarked on, and I would recommend this adventure to all.
