OK, so a lot of people visit Cape Town – and why not, it is a great city after all. But how many of those visitors venture outside of the city for more than a few hours to get a bit tipsy on the local wine? Not quite so many I would guess. It is a real shame, because one of Cape Town’s attractive features – its cosmopolitan European feel – is also one of its biggest weaknesses.
For a taste of the old Colonial style of living we are in the right area, but if you travel north on the N7 for only an hour, soon there is a turn off to the left, sign posted Hopefield.
The road here is largely arrow straight, with clear fields on either side. In a fast car, like a Jaguar XK, it would probably be possible to easily top 150mph (see Lusso 6), but you do have to be wary of the not entirely uncommon potholes. When Hopefield appears over the horizon, the road takes a serious turn for the worse, and speeds tumble. Luckily it is only a few miles more along here until we turn off yet again, this time onto a dirt track, who’s surface follows the seasons. Right now it has a few enormous ruts, but by and large is pretty sound. In the winter this whole area – we are currently driving through a marsh – can flood, taking the road with it. Luckily it is all dry now, and the parched reeds show how they are currently suffering a bit of a drought. There is barely time to take any of this in however, and a pair of white-washed gates jump out on the left, with simple black letters proudly announcing two key facts; “Kersefontein” and “1744”.
Kersefontein, as you may have guessed, was first built in 1744, and has been farmed by same family for almost that length of time. The current incumbent, Julian Melck, is the 8th Melck to have farmed there, and he is justifiably proud of the traditional Cape Dutch house that he lives in. The Cape Dutch style is very distinctive, with thick white washed walls, a thatched roof, and a distinctive gable on the front façade. The first sight of the farm house, after driving down a short road lined with blue gum trees, has an almost divine feeling about it, as the walls are glowing in the bright sunshine.
One of the charms of Kersefontein is that it is not just the house, but almost a mini village in its own right. Although there are four rooms in the main house that can be used for guest accommodation, normally people stay in one of three small complexes – the African, the Victorian, or the cottage. The cottage is set a quarter of a mile out from the other buildings, and it also has its own kitchen and cooking/cleaning staff, so it offers a high level of privacy if that is what you are after. The African and Victorian are made up of two rooms each, one twin and one double. They are located on either side of the werf, a sort of road which runs down between the buildings, to the farm yard itself at the end. The Victorian rooms are joined together with a living room in the middle, whereas the African rooms are not interconnected, but they do have access to a private stoep, or terrace, at the back. the view from here opens out onto a small lavender garden, and from there over a couple of fields, and in the distance is the vlei, a marshy area which floods at winter and dries out in the summer. I prefer the African rooms for their location and the view, and this is where we stayed. There are plenty of things to do on the farm, but we contented ourselves with a couple of long walks in the sun – a real refreshing change from the grey London we had been in less than a day earlier.
Later in the evening it was off to one of the farms more alluring locations, a fully functional, but not open to the general public, pub. This place puts many “full-time” bars to shame with the choice of drinks available – six gins, seven beers, countless whiskies – you get the picture. An hour or so, and a bottle of Moët, later we head to the house’s dining room with the three other guests. Julian is a good host and entertainer, if slightly eccentric, and after a raucous supper starting with potato, leek and mushroom soup, followed by baked Kingclip (a local sea fish), and a homemade tarte tatin which eclipses almost any others I have eaten, he gives a short performance on the piano next door in the drawing room. The house itself is exquisitely furnished, and even a furniture luddite like myself can see why it has been included in so many books on the subject of Cape Dutch houses. Just spending time inside is a pleasure, even without the good company.
A lie-in is in order the next morning, and the thick walls and curtains make sure that is not a problem at all, but when we do finally make it out of the door, the weather has clouded over and the temperature fallen back to trouser wearing levels. One of the main attractions of this area of South Africa is that in the spring time the countryside is covered with millions of flowers. Unfortunately we have just missed the season, but that does not mean there is nothing to do. For the brave (which I am not) you can swim in the river which runs next door to the house. The skull of the last hippo to live in the river is actually inside the main house, so there is no danger there, and there is a dock at the end of the garden for easy access. If you are of the blood-thirsty type sometimes it is possible to accompany Julian on a wild boar hunt, and the fruits of these trips often find their way into the dining room where they are served with delicious home made fruit preserves. It is well worth asking for this in advance! Outside the farm boundaries the coast is only a thirty minute drive away on one side, and the Swartland wineries are also in easy range on the other. One of my all-time favourite wines - Kloovenburg shiraz - comes from very close to here, and is well worth a try.
If you are willing to travel a bit further, it is easily possible to visit Cape Town itself for the day. Setting off at around 11am, we headed straight into the centre of town, known as the City Bowl, to keep an appointment at a new-ish restaurant called the Savoy Cabbage. Inside you could quite easily be in a trendy Manhattan lunch joint, with exposed concrete and iron galore, but it does not feel contrived, just interesting to look at. The menu set our mouths watering, and the starters of lamb carpaccio and a feta & butternut squash tartelette were very tasty indeed. Things got better as the meal progressed, the real star being my main course; roast warthog, which was slightly pink and seriously tender, with a distinctive flavour. Pudding’s star was a heart attack inducing chocolate marquis – I was glad there was a helping hand to finish this off, it may have been lethal in lager doses. Definitely one for the chocolate lovers. We had to finish the meal quickly as we had a flying lesson booked at Cape Town international – how often do you get to fly into the third busiest airport in a continent on your first lesson? After a pretty hairy approach back into the airport which had the air traffic controller making jokes at my obvious lack of skill, we jumped back into the car and headed off for yet more food.
I was nervous about supper as lunch had been so good, but with the first pang of hunger starting to appear, we sat down in Aubergine, a long standing Cape Town restaurant, located well off the beaten track. I can’t imagine they get much passing trade… Like lunch, the first course was good (ostrich tartare and local chowder), but the main courses were truly sensational. We had a three pan fried crayfish tails with crayfish ravioli, sitting in a pool of perfectly judged creamy sauce, and roasted loin of Springbok, which was one of the best dishes I have ever tasted - anywhere in the world. My pudding of chai spiced soufflé with plum coulis may sound fiddly, but it too was a work of art. I think if Michelin visited South Africa this place would be a dead cert for a star, or more likely two. I should also say that the food was much better than the last three star restaurant I ate in. Perhaps staying in Cape Town that night would have been a more sensible way of doing things, but the traffic on the way back to Kersefontein was non existent, and soon enough we were falling into our beds.
For many people who visit this farm it is the atmosphere that keeps them coming back. It does not feel so much like a hotel, but more like you are a house guest and personal friend. Imagine going to Goodwood and not staying in the Marriot next door, but actually in Goodwood house, and eating supper with Lord March. Julian is adept at making people feel welcome, and all too soon our time at Kersefontein is up. I’ve spent a fair bit of time at the farm over the years, and returning once again is never far from my mind. I read in another guide book how the reviewer was always recommending people to stay, and I know what he means – I do it all the time too.
