This morning we drove toward wine country, stopping for a quick visit at Butterfly World, a rather dilapidated structure overzealously filled with imported South American butterflies as well as an open aviary with molting local exotic birds that have been rescued and will hopefully be nursed back to good health. There were also a fair assortment of local spiders, lizards, snakes and rodents kept in what can only be described as makeshift enclosures, akin to a 5th grade science project. Creepy is the best way to describe the place and after checking my clothes meticulously for signs of any escapees that might have attached themselves to my shirt, was ecstatic to leave. A healthy dosing of Purel was in order and I did not feel disinfected until we were well on our way to our next stop at a local winery. Justin, however, was positively gleeful at getting so many vertical photos and even capturing one of a real wild meerkat outside.
The winery we visited has a unique attraction, a goat tower. Truly a structure where the prized family goats live a la Repunzel, {see pic} fashioned into a brick tower with a turret. Fanciful would be a kind way to describe it. We enjoyed the goat’s milk cheese with our wine tasting, although the wine itself was rather forgettable in spite of our effort to find one we sincerely liked enough to purchase. Clive on the other hand was having a jolly old time stuffing his chubby cheeks with cheese and espousing the virtues of the special “pinotage” created here in Stellenbosch by an apparent genius cross-pollinating viniculturalist. Clive you see, aspires to become something of a wine baron, no doubt all the pennies he’s pinched from unsuspecting tourists have gone into the wine course he’s been taking part time for a few years. He and a friend are apparently set to make their first barrels of wine next year and Clive was waxing poetic about the many varietals indigenous to the area as well as those imported and whether they do well on the hill with the cooling temperatures or in the valley where the heat is retained and creates higher sugar and alcohol content etc etc etc. He even managed to bore Mom a bit I think, and she’s French. Of course ever since the penguin fee incident, Clive has hardly been in my good books, so I may be just the tiniest bit uncharitable but who can blame me really.
We then decided the postpone lunch as we were well bloated from all the cheese, and headed instead to our Cheetah encounter. Clive had us wait outside while he went to the ticket booth and paid the entrance fee, and then ushered us through the gates and toward the cheetah enclosures. There were various large fenced-in pens with groups of 4-5 cubs or adults in each. People were queued up outside a sort of holding pen where 4 guests at a time are given the cheetah instructions and invited to disinfect with hand and shoe sanitizer so as not to infect the cheetahs with whatever the humans may be carrying. From the looks (and smells) of the group of backpacking Germans in front of us, this seemed like an excellent idea.
Clive told me that he had paid for us all to enjoy the Adult Cheetah encounter but that if we wanted to pay the extra for the Cub Encounter we could do so and he would go get the extra tickets. Mom and David decided to wait on the observation deck while the 3 kids and I decided to pet the cubs and so told Clive the same. Clive asked me for an extra 300 RAND (~$45USD) which I handed over. As Clive disappeared in the direction of the ticket booth, I noticed a sign reading CHEETAH ENCOUNTER PRICES, ADULT ENCOUNTER: 50 RAND PER CHILD, 100 RAND PER ADULT. CHEETAH CUB ENCOUNTER: 200 RAND PER ADULT 100 RAND PER CHILD. I did a quick math calculation and indeed the difference between the ADULT and CUB ENCOUNTER FEE for 2 11 and unders plus 2 adults was 300 RAND but given that neither David nor my Mom were participating, I wondered why Clive wasn’t applying their 2 x 100 RAND ADULT ENCOUNTER fees to our CUB upgrade. I didn’t say anything though, imagining there must be a no refund policy. Clive returned with our tickets and David at his side who decided to join us for the CUB ENCOUNTER. David asked me for 200 RAND to give to Clive, to which I steadied myself and then asked as calmly as possible, “Why?” David explained that is the amount Clive said he needed to get David a CUB ticket upgrade. Again I steadied myself, took a deep cleansing breath and then responded speaking to David but with content clearly audible to and intended for Clive this time as follows: “I don’t think that makes sense. We paid for all 6 of us to do the ADULT ENCOUNTER, so 2 kids at 50 each and 4 adults at 100 each, making 500 RAND. And I’ve already given Clive an extra 300 RAND so that’s 800 RAND altogether and it says here that the CUB ENCOUNTER is 200 per ADULT and 100 per CHILD, so that would be a total of 3 ADULT and 2 CHILD fees for the 5 of us of 800 RAND since Mom isn’t doing it.”
Before David could respond, Clive jumped in quickly, and I might add guiltily, with a big smile saying, “Well then we are all square. Great.” Great indeed. Good old Clive would not be making a tidy little profit off of this tourist. I handed the 4 tickets I had to the volunteer and then we enjoyed a tremendous 20 minutes petting the cheetah cubs that were as docile as house cats. As we were exiting I noticed Clive taking David’s ticket from him, so I looked away and innocently asked David to hand me his ticket so that I could give it to the volunteer. Clive awkwardly handed over the ticket and the volunteer and I exchanged a knowing glance as she gratefully accepted the ticket from me and put it in the metal cash box. Gotta hand it to sly Clive, the guy does not quit. He wisely avoided eye contact with me for the next hour, oh yes, he knew I was on to him.
We also visited the wild bird enclosure at the Cheetah park which was inhabited by dozens of indigenous wild bird species kept side by side in stalls with their feet tethered to wooden perches like avian convicts, see pics. The vultures looked particularly sinister but it was the Secretary Birl, so named for their long legs and long eyelashes that stole our hearts, she was named Mary Anne like my sister and the kids got a massive kick out of that. There were a pair of owls whose expressions were eerily human, they must be siblings or an old married couple as the looks they were giving one another seemed to be saying, "You are so embarassing," see pics.
Then we were off to lunch at a vineyard overlooking the valley. The menu had mostly fish and game with little for Livvy, so I ordered her the Spring Bok rolls and told her they were simply beef springrolls, which I think is a bit of a stretch as I am unsure whether Bonta Bok qualify as cattle or more of an antelope. Fortunately she thought they were delicious. Back at the hotel we said goodnight to Clive, I gave him an especially warm handshake having been taught to be a gracious winner.
Justin and I headed to the craft market in search of the elusive perfect miniature hand carved wooden hippo. We scoured the market and then happened upon the stall of a chubby and jovial visually impaired woman who chuckled at everything through her coke bottle glasses. Justin found a perfect specimen and we bargained until we reached a fair price. Unfortunately, our semi-blind new friend uses her brassiere as a wallet and I didn’t have the correct change, so left the stall with a handful of breast-sweat soaked bills. Justin was mercifully unaware of the moist misfortune that had befallen me, and clutched the newspaper wrapped creature to his chest like a mother carrying a newborn all the way back to the hotel where a fresh bottle of Purel awaited me.
After dinner we enjoyed a delicious dessert of sticky toffee pudding and vanilla ice cream paid for with the 200 RAND we didn’t give Clive at the Cheetah Encounter. Excellent day.
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