Viking Cruises

viking.com | 27 E X P E R I E N C E S I S S U E 2 3 A s the glowing sun casts its amber cloak over Table Mountain, I'm watching with awe from the edge of our Viking ship's infinity pool. I marvel at its neighbouring landmarks, the jutting Lion's Head peak and flatter Signal Hill (or Lion's Rump as it is also known). Their view from a different angle would resemble a sun-kissed sphinx, which is how the outline of the two combined together is often described. In the port below, my eyes are drawn to fins circling in the water. Great white sharks perhaps? It is possible in these parts, but no. These are cape fur seals playing in the glimmering light, no wonder they are called the puppies of the ocean. This is everyday life for Capetonians. But for me, with my head rested on interlocked fingers while indulgently submerged in the cool crystal water, this moment was as precious as finding an endangered peacock flower in the wild— Lion's Rump being one of the only places in the world where it is still possible to do so. The morning started early with a safari shore excursion to Tala Private Game Reserve, about an hour's drive west. We were greeted with blue skies, immaculate lawns and chunky Aloe trees, but this was quite different to the wild open grassland which we would explore from the canopied 4x4 safari jeeps. After a jaunty few minutes on the dusty ochre road, Milton, our guide, suddenly sped off towards what was revealed to be a "tower" of giraffes. One bold male sauntered alongside, dazzling us with his honey-gold patches. Just like snowflakes, each pattern on a giraffe is unique, helping them keep track of their family groups. Later we saw another congregation beneath the trees. Milton said it was their wedding venue. Sightings of kudus, hippos, impala and herds of grazing zebra, were all highlights of this half-day safari, as was observing mother and daughter rhinos – not too close, however, as the mother was apparently short-tempered. And who could blame her after learning that she had only narrowly survived a poacher's attack. That afternoon we set sail for East London and dinner was at The Restaurant. I chose from the destination menu: grilled peri-peri black tiger prawns, followed by seared black bass with fava beans and wild mushroom. Our sommelier, Andrej, who served up impeccable wine pairings at every meal on board, had chosen a white Sauvignon Blanc from Cape Town's Stellenbosch wine region and a light red, the Marras Trickster Pinotage whose notes of cranberry went in perfect harmony with my delicate fish dish. The following morning, we took an excursion to meet African Xhosa people at the Khaya La Bantu village. They introduced us to their culture, past and present, such as how the Lobola, the price of the bride, is negotiated before a marriage. Traditionally the price was in We suddenly sped off towards a "tower" of giraffes. One bold male sauntered alongside, dazzling us with his honey-gold patches Clockwise from left page: The epic Table Mountain towers over the cosmopolitan city of Cape Town; rances spotted a herd of zebra at Tala Private Game Reserve; two local ladies preparing to grind maize together; the pretty harbour at Gqeberha; the infinity pool watching the sun set

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