AFTER THE STORM
Janine Stephen discovers a cottage for all seasons in Pringle Bay
SOMEONE was emptying the entire contents of the Gariep Dam onto the roof of River Cottage. It was a deluge, complete with rude wind and the crash of furious seas. Cape Town winters are dramatic enough in the city bowl, but out in Pringle Bay, in the shadow of the Hangklip, the average storm notches up a gear.
No matter. Dinner and wine had been located in Pringle’s dark streets, swimming in rain and frogs as they were. A bistro employee seemed not to mind that the guests were dripping on his immaculate floors; the local pizza-tavern owner sported fuzzy spotted headgear to repel the cold. Back at the cottage, the fireplace bulged with coals.
Pringle is smaller than its betterknown neighbour, Betty. With just a few hundred permanent residents, it swells during holidays and weekends, but is seldom crowded. As part of the Kogelberg Biosphere Reserve, the surrounding mountains are sometimes fire-scarred, but otherwise pristine, and the river water is clear. The village has few fences, sweet-smelling fynbos, a variety of restaurants, a powder-smooth beach and rocky shores.
Even the cons are tourist attractions: the baboons are expert housebreakers, capable of gaining access through sliding doors and responsible for up to six break-ins a day when the monitors are scarce.
A National Geographic series filmed at Hangklip made the troop famous — and, say locals, helped teach them new tricks. ( Big Baboon House kitted out a cottage for baboons to raid and left fridges in the streets.)
That said, River Cottage hasn’t had a baboon visit for over a year. Other wildlife includes owls and Cape clawless otters. The property is named Otter’s Creek, and the cottage sits beside the home of an otter family: a clean, rooibos-coloured creek named the Buffels. Owner Brian Richardson has pictures of the curious residents peering at tourists on the bridge, and there is evidence of the clan all over the lawn (scrunched up lobster and crab shells).
When the next day dawned blue and gold, it was time to hit the canoe. Distances are far from challenging and the creek takes you back home. Plashing upriver revealed malachite kingfishers in full cobalt glory, but no otters. Downstream featured croaking beds of reeds, frogs clacking like castanets and cormorants hung out to dry. Suddenly, the creek opened up onto the beach, where waves crashed on far rocks. Across the sea hovered Cape Point, freshly washed. The storm was definitely over.
Otter’s Creek is right on the edge of Pringle Bay, across the creek from the rest of town, on 9ha of private land. Its location is its key attraction: that creek, the deep dark of night, the restored fynbos. The Richardsons and friends have removed over 15 000 aliens and the veld is blooming. Walking on the property itself is a treat — but you can also pop over the creek and wander quiet streets, lined with holiday-home architecture to appeal to (or repel) every taste.
The cottage itself is a bring-your-own-loo-roll kind of spot. It will sleep up to eight in comfort (draw straws for the upstairs attic), although the living and kitchen areas aren’t large and a big family or group of friends may feel constrained in bad weather.
For a duo or quartet, it won’t matter if it rains or shines. Snug cottage can easily be traded for snug local eatery if the troops get restless. And should you chance on the perfect day, well then. Otters await. —© Janine Stephen