On my 175th day of traveling I learned that penguins can sound like donkeys, Betty’s Bay is as remote as I’d imagined, chocolate cake can be dangerously addictive, and that a mouse named Tom can turn a pub upside down thanks to a terrified barmaid.
Let me take you along on the journey from Gordon’s Bay to Betty’s Bay…
I woke up around 9 a.m. at my hosts’ home and decided to indulge in a bath. I filled it with medium-hot water and added a herbal bath sachet — a thoughtful gift from my hostess, Denise in Brackenfell, Cape Town. Though I wasn’t sunburned from the previous day’s sunbathing, the aromatic herbs were a treat for my wind-battered skin.
After the relaxing soak, Patrick served me breakfast — just a simple bowl of cereal. I then spent some time online in his garage-turned-library, where my mood soured as I sifted through emails filled with overinterpretations of my writings. “You’ll always get comments,” he said, “especially when you have a large audience. Some people interpret things like it’s the Bible.” I nodded in agreement. It’s just the nature of the beast.
Before heading out, Patrick gave me a tour around Gordon’s Bay. From Bikini Beach we took the scenic coastal road toward Betty’s Bay, passing pristine beaches and small surfer havens. After traversing a sprawling green valley, we finally arrived at Betty’s Bay, a long, narrow town hugging the coastline for over 10 kilometers. It’s mostly made up of holiday homes—ranging from modest cottages to luxury villas, owned by city dwellers seeking a quiet retreat.
I wouldn’t be surprised if, ten years from now, Betty’s Bay morphs into a bustling tourist spot, replete with hotels, casinos, and fast food joints. Las Betty’s Bayas? Maybe. Would I mind? Perhaps not.
For now, though, it’s a peaceful little place. The town has just three restaurants, a small grocery store, and its main attraction—a botanical garden that stretches into a valley, ending at Stony Point. Patrick wanted to show me Stony Point, one of the few mainland breeding sites for African penguins.
As we braved the strong winds along the rocky path, Patrick shared a laugh with me after I remarked, “I still don’t see why anyone would want to live here.”
He chuckled, “That’s exactly what I told my wife when she suggested moving here.”
The penguins, sharing their breeding ground with cormorants, are truly fascinating. According to the sign at Stony Point, African penguins were once called Jackass penguins because of their donkey-like braying. So, next time you hear what you think is a donkey, it might just be a penguin. It’s a harsh world for them; seals and sharks prey on them at sea, while gulls and mongooses target their eggs on land. In 1986, a leopard nearly wiped out the colony. Yes, Betty’s Bay has its own wildlife drama!
After our penguin visit, Patrick dropped me off at the Espresso Leopard, a charming coffee shop owned by Hazel and Nathalie. The mother-daughter duo had traded the hustle of their bakery in Cape Town’s Claremont suburb for the quiet life of Betty’s Bay. Nathalie had invited me here after hearing about my project on SAFM radio. Her curiosity wasn’t about promoting their coffee shop; it was a genuine personal interest in my journey.
We sipped on cappuccinos while Patrick shared stories of his former life in Gordon’s Bay. With a population of just 300 permanent residents and about 900 part-timers, Betty’s Bay is indeed a small, sleepy town.
Patrick soon left, and I settled into my hosts’ guestroom upstairs. The coffee shop is their main venture, but they also sell homemade chutneys, jams, and hand-painted T-shirts. Hazel makes the chutneys, and Nathalie paints the shirts. When I asked why they’d chosen Betty’s Bay after running their bakery for over a decade, Nathalie explained, “We were so worn out by the fast-paced city life in Cape Town. We craved peace, and Betty’s Bay offers that in abundance.” Hazel chimed in, “And you won’t see a traffic jam here!”
After indulging in a massive slice of their homemade chocolate cake (I now fully understand chocolate cake addiction), Nathalie and I took their dog, Goldi, for a walk along the beach. The wind was so fierce it sent sand flying from the dunes into the ocean, making it feel like the waves couldn’t finish their descent before being blown back. It was an odd but refreshing experience—like getting a complimentary sand-scrub on my legs.
Later, Nathalie drove us to Pringle Bay, a nearby village, where we stopped at a local pub amusingly named Bar Beyond. It was the kind of place where the bartender knows what the locals drink before they even ask, and the conversation revolves around cricket and rugby.
The bar’s main attraction, however, was Tom — the mouse. When Tom made an appearance, the waitress leapt onto the bar in terror. Apparently, in a pub like this, even the small things can be entertaining.
Curious, I asked the locals about the biggest event to happen in the area in the last five years. Silence. “What about the last ten?” I pushed. A man finally spoke up: “We got electricity!” And that was that.
Back at the apartment, Nathalie cooked us a delicious fish dinner, and we watched some TV while I nearly licked my plate clean. Later, I received a call from Suzie, Carla’s sister, who had arranged for me to go shark diving in a cage with a professional diver. In a few days, I’ll be lowered into the ocean to wave at some not-so-friendly sharks.
If I stop updating this website, feel free to collect any body parts that wash ashore.
When everyone turned in for the night, I stayed up writing in the coffee shop downstairs. By the time I got to bed, enough sand fell out of my hair to fill a small sandbox.
Good night, Betty’s Bay!
—Ramon
