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| Walker Bay photographed from De Kelder where our walk ended. |
Walking in the sand. The prospect of walking along an
unspoilt stretch of beach along the Overbergstrand that has been quietly inviting
me for decades was a little daunting after three weeks of endless eating and
drinking, eroding the little fitness I had built up over the last couple of
months. But good to be freed from the semi-circular patterns of the wooden end-grain chopping
board that I seemed to be perennially chained to during Christmas time.
We walked towards De Kelder, as there was a wind from behind
which would have been unpleasant face-on. This meant that the glorious mountain
views were behind us. However, the young couple that accompanied us more than
compensated for the loss of the views: a darting young vamp that twirled
around her boy. The lass must have covered twice the distance than anyone else as
she teased the bloke by dancing and turning around him in her tight blue jean
shorts and cropped, off-the shoulder, black top. If the walk was mesmerising, so
was this display of chemistry that kept a taught, invisible string spun between them.
To be young and brimming with life is wonderful to observe and provided a timeless
and filmic quality to the outing.
The lagoon mouth was shallow and we waded across…or those of
us who were barefoot or wearing open sandals. Some ladies, who did not want
their walking shoes wet, had to be lifted across the water. Luckily the channel
connecting the lagoon and sea was a mere trickle during low tide and slightly
undermined the men’s gallantry.
The sandy stretch between Grotto Beach and De Kelder
curves for more than 17km along the coast. The sun was out and a little
westerly wind whipped us along. The strip of beach narrows and widens in
places, alternating hard surfaces that are easy to walk on and soft, deep sand that
bites in the calves. WG Siebald’s question came to mind: ‘Where
did these [young] people actually learn to walk?’
(2004) as I observed the walking pace of the group, all kitted out in their state-of-the-art
sports shoes. We made two pit stops to refuel, and these were leisurely and
sociable, like baboon troops that have found a safe feeding spot. However, we never
interrupted our walk once to look at the views or the grassland fynbos along
the way, so one of the enduring memories of this walk are of Nike-shod feet and
a debate about what shoes are best for a walk along the beach.
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| Street stalls and a typical Hong Kong delivery van in Soho. |
Walking on ground level in central Hong Kong, one is devoid
of a sense of horizontal space and only a narrow strip of sky is overhead. In
places the deep urban canyons never allow direct sunlight. The surfaces underfoot
change from asphalt to stone curbs and an assortment of tiles. A friend
commented recently that you can distinguish between visitors and home-grown
users of the Mid-level escalator in Central: visitors loiter around and locals use it in
an efficient manner to get to their destination as quickly as possible. Most
visitors use the walk up the escalator for taking pictures of the daily life of
Hong Kongers, and there are certain scenic spots that appeal to most
people. The oldest wet market in Hong Kong around Gage and Graham Street, the
overhead advertisements down Wellington Street…
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| Vagrant's trolley used for scavenging. |
During lunchtime, office
workers pour out of buildings and make a dash to their chosen eatery or
take-away restaurant. It is congested at this time of day and long
queues form in front of favoured places. A regular sight every day is of people
walking back to offices with small polystyrene containers in white plastic bags
swinging carefully as not to spill. By two in the afternoon, the city becomes
once again a more restful place and you only have to dodge the endless
deliveries from trucks that are wheeled on flat, four-wheeled trolleys that are
niftily stacked with surprisingly large loads. A timely tip of the toe edges
the trolleys up or down street curbs. And again Siebold’s question comes to
mind as I observe too the short range of the city dweller’s walking gaze.
It seems as if the distant view is
captured only by the camera lens.
