It was early morning but the sun was already well up as I drove through the rolling patchwork quilt that is the Overberg.
A dramatic sky, both angry and artistic, threatened poor weather somewhere during the day but the dark hanging clouds only enhanced the sensation of space. As I drove the restlessness of Cape Town was already washing off me like fine dust in a hot shower and my pace slowed, rarely approaching the speed limit as I relaxed into “country time”. Odd really that it can reach you, even strapped down in a speeding metal box but somehow when this removed from the natural world the effects are hypnotic and I was relaxed well before I arrived in Napier.
At first glance the place has little obvious to recommend it; no doubt for many it’s an inconvenient bottleneck during a summertime race to the coast. A strip of apparently insignificant buildings, occasional roadside stores filled with bric- a-brac and perhaps a spot to stop for coffee or breakfast on the way to somewhere else ostensibly more important. This was my destination for the weekend and what a jewel it proved to be.
We were to spend the day with Cameron McMaster visiting various sites of the Napier Renosterveld Conservation project. I would never have believed that a few hectares of dull-looking veld, tucked haphazardly among the massive grain fields could prove quite so enthralling. But that was before I had been introduced to McMaster, a man whose passion for the flowering plants of our country knows virtually no bounds and whose humble manner belies his immense knowledge. When it comes to wild flowers here is a man who really knows his onions, or in fact probably not, but he sure does know his Nerines, Lachenalias, Orchids and a whole lot else.
Now it so happens that around the town are the last remaining pockets of Silicrete and Shale Renosterveld, in fact with respect to the former, the very last 10 hectares of the stuff in the whole wide world.
You see, Renosterveld is made up of clay soils created over eons from the breakdown of the surrounding rock and it just so happens that the stuff is simply perfect for growing grain crops.
Which means that just about every inch of it has been ploughed up to feed an ever-burgeoning population, or at least the cattle that make up their burgers. It is hard to imagine, when driving through the Overberg, that we could possibly consume all of it, but South Africa is still a net importer of grain, quite a frightening concept.
Ploughing is the death knell of the indigenous plants and these last remaining pockets are only there because the ground is just a tad too rocky to dig up. The project has now fenced off these portions which although not suitable for ploughing were under threat from the introduction of grazing cattle.
Now we had arrived along a dirt road next to a particularly unassuming pile of composite rock, following Cameron as acolytes as he wandered and spouted more Latin than I had heard since high school.
Don’t get me wrong, it was simply fascinating stuff and if music be the language of love then Latin is surely that of passion where Cameron is concerned.
Many of the flowers had already bloomed, their dried remnants scattering over the arid soil as they settled down to await the next winter rains. However, a few plants with different strategies were still able to surprise us, not least the Red Data-listed Lachenalia nervosa, which was located growing under a rocky outcrop.
This single koppie is actually host to no less than three Red Data-listed plants as well as numerous others. In fact the general area boasts greater floral diversity than the spectacular daisy lands around Nieuwoudtville.
Having ticked off one incredibly rare plant, we set off in search of more. Apparently Cameron doesn’t consider one such find in a morning sufficiently exciting. We visited additional parts of Renosterveld where we found Gladiolus floribundus before heading up the mountain to an area of fynbos and an entirely different habitat.
Here among the boulders we were blessed with several flowering Blue Disas, Disa Purpurascens, another rare species of gloriously delicate hue and magnificent engineering – and on our way spooked an equally threatened Button Quail. Rare sightings are, as said, apparently grist to the mill in this neck of the woods. The surroundings of Napier are indeed a lot more special that you might imagine. However, still not content, our final goal was to locate a real oddity, Erica recurvata, a plant that had remained unknown for over two centuries and then only from a drawing in the publication Andrew’s Heathery circa 1805 until it was rediscovered by Ross Turner in 2007.
Unfortunately, the specimens were past flowering but we were still able to see these hardy and rare species, tucked away in their favoured rock crevices atop the large sandstone boulders.
Eventually we returned home having seen more rare and unusual plants in a day than you would imagine possible. It really was a tremendously special outing.
l Special thanks to McMaster for his time and enthusiasm and to Lindy Warren of Napier Media House for arranging my stay. In fact Cameron and Lindy were only two of many interesting and passionate people I met in the course of my break. There is a great deal to see and do around Napier. Apart from wild flowers the place boasts a Goat Farm, Candle Making Factory, Wellness Centre, Fynbos Nursery and even its own brewery. If you would like to know more you can contact Lindy on 028 423 3834. - Weekend Argus