I’m willing to go the distance for a good swim. There’s a certain shade of clear, green water that I’ll travel for. Hell, I’ll get on a plane if the conditions are right. Entire holidays have been planned around the turquoise tinted water that makes me giddy (grinning-under-the-water happy) which is why I’m not against driving an hour and a half outside of Cape Town to reach the West Coast National Park.
My newlywed friends introduced me to the reserve. Wait, that’s not exactly true, I’d been there before, but on my first visit I got so excited about the tortoises and the thousands of colourful locusts that had descended on the fynbos that I somehow missed the standout feature of the reserve: the Langebaan Lagoon.
Appalled by my oversight, my friends took it upon themselves to show me the right way to explore the West Coast National Park. The right way – they told me in no uncertain terms – involves food and drinks. Leading by example, they packed a picnic big enough to last us a week.
The journey there was dominated by tales of a caracal. Before I go on a rampage, I’ll admit that I’ve been lucky when it comes to wild cats. I’ve experienced more than my fair share of leopards, cheetahs and lions. Caracals, on the other hand, have conspired to evade me. Much to my disgust, the honeymooners had seen the illusive species twice. Oblivious to my resentment, they were shocked when I revealed that I’d never seen one, proceeding to describe how ‘their’ caracal had strolled nonchalantly across the road. If I was a better person I would’ve been happy for them but jealousy consumed me. Somewhere amid all that envy I felt the feint twitch of another emotion: hope. Could today be the day?
It was not. My ripple of hope was replaced by a tsunami of disappointment. And though beautiful, a passing herd of eland was not even nearly enough to pull me out of my slump. Things were looking dismal until the lagoon came into view.
The conversation went something like this:
Me: “I can’t believe how blue it is!”
Passenger: “Have a look at the water through my polarized glasses.”
Passenger leans over to pass me the sunglasses but New Wife is too quick, intercepting the Ray-Bans, followed by numerous oohs and ahhs.
Me: “Ok, my turn.”
More exclamations on how blue it is.
Passenger: “Can I have my glasses back now?”
New Husband: “Who needs the Mediterranean!”
Polarized lenses find their way onto New Husband’s face, who proceeds to express his appreciation for the lagoon by swearing profusely.
New Wife: “Shotgun next.”
Passenger: “But you’ve already had a look.”
New Wife: “What’s your point?”
The sunglasses made two more rounds before we agreed to continue along the road. Our perseverance was rewarded when the Atlantic Ocean made an appearance, peaking over the sand dune to our left and a colony of flamingoes smudged an arch of the lagoon on our right. With good reason, the Langabaan Lagoon is recognised as a Ramsar site: a wetland of international importance. The territory boasts a rich calendar: wading birds migrate to the lagoon in their tens of thousands between September and April, the Postberg Section of the park opens in August and September to showcase the spring flowers that blanket the strandveld and between August and November there’s a fair chance you’ll spot a Southern Right Whale.
When we reached the parking lot it was a short walk to the beach. We claimed a secluded spot of white sand about a hundred metres to the right of the docking bridge and set up for the day. I didn’t go the extra mile to just lie on the beach so, boogie board under my arm, I made my way to the water. At this point you may question what kind of waves I was expecting to find in a lagoon, but (and I’m relaying what my experienced guides told me) that’s not the point. The point is it floats.
Trusting their judgment – feeling more than a little foolish – I paddled away from the shore using the double arm technique which isn’t the most attractive movement anyone has ever seen but it gets you where you need to be. When I reached optimum depth, I abandoned the board, diving into the clear green water. Hours passed. Eventually I grew tired of keeping myself afloat, retrieving the board that had drifted away so that I could cling to its red sponge and do nothing except contemplate whether I could live on it forever!
For more pictures, see photographer Scott Ramsay’s ‘Year in the Wild’ album.
Directions from Cape Town CBD (Driving time ± 1.5 hours)
Take N1 on-ramp (towards Paarl) | Pass Lower Church Street off-ramp | Take next off-ramp: R27 (Marine Drive) | Drive through Paarden Eiland and Milnerton | R27 continues as West Coast Road | Travel along R27 for about 120 km | Past Yzerfontein/Darling Turn-off | Turn Left into West Coast National Park Gate.
For more information on how to get there visit the SANParks website and consult the map below:
[Images from sanparks.org]
Read our website for more information about the West Coast and for our recommended accommodation. Contact one of our consultants if you’re interested in a trip to this region!