Kirstenbosch in Garden Design

The fruits of Gardenia lutea.

My piece about Kirstenbosch for Garden Design went live recently. Fresh pictures, new stories. More reasons to visit Cape Town!

2/7/11 -Disclaimer: there are no skunks in the Conservatory at Kirstenbosch! I read the piece hurriedly before our trip and discovered several typos, especially the one about skunks, which ought to have been skinks. While I am perfectly capable, ahem, of manufacturing my own typos in blog posts,  I tend to go over copy for paying concerns with a fine tooth comb. So until these glitches are corrected, and they have not been, yet, please take my word for it: Skunks are NOT performing natural pest control in the glass house. That role falls to the far less furry, and far better scented, skink.

Agapanthus borer

Klein Constantia wine estate

It is hard to explain just how deep agapanthus run in the veins of South African horticulturists. Their blood is blue.

Kirstenbosch Botanical Garden

When I was little there was one kind of agapanthus (probably straight A. praecox) - big, pale blue, like the ones above - blooming over the December and January school holidays. So associated with South African summers that we called them Christmas flowers. Ooh, look, Mommy, Christmas flowers! The lagoon at Knysna ringed with them, beside the other ubiquitous holiday plant, hydrangea. Great pink and lilac mopheads gradually paling under the hot southern sun. Years that felt like lifetimes.

Agapanthus were the plants you forgot about. They bloomed, no matter what you did or didn't do to them. So they were planted en masse, beside highways and  in parking lots and on sidewalks.

Kirstenbosch

Then came the breeding boom. And agapanthus are now not only the pale blue moons of my childhood. They are fat and round, graceful and pendulous, deep purple, black and bright lilac. Bi-coloured and statuesque, pure white and tiny, whispering with blue ruffles or singing with intense sapphire. The hybrids are endless. They are highly collectable. They are everywhere.

My mother's garden

Before the bust comes the bubble, right?

Kirstenbosch

Enter the agapanthus borer, family unknown. That's right. It is nameless. So far.

It started with a bud, last December. The green wasting from it, the colour turning yellow, the sap drying up so that the plump point became soft. Soon, other buds began to droop. On closer inspection, a black hole in the bud or at its base. A bruise on the stem. Violence had occurred.

Snap it off and the hole extends into the long stem. Cut the stem open lengthwise and is revealed a striped caterpillar, entombed. Bud after bud succumbs.

It is hard to not to be filled with revulsion at a creature whose only purpose in life seems to be to destroy beauty. An army of one (by one, by...). The caterpillars are the offspring of a moth.

I started searching the web. Nothing. Except a discussion in June 2011 in a Cape Horticltural Society newsletter where Mike Picker, who wrote the book on insects (literally - The Field Guide to Insects of South Africa, published by Struik) writes:

“I have noticed it in my own garden as well, and as you have no doubt observed, it attacks both the buds, stems and rhizomes of Agapanthus. It is a moth larva, and it’s the first time I have seen it, so I suspect that it has just appeared/spread this year [2011]. It may represent a species from another part of SA, as many insects have moved southwards recently. I think it might turn out to be a real problem, although insects are very sensitive to short-term climate variations, and this summer was very unusual in that regard.I have done a quick scan on the net, and there appears to be nothing on them. I can't be certain of the family, although they are probably Noctuidae (same family as the Crinum borer, Brithys crinii).”

He then invites members to bag suspects and drop them in his mailbox!

But if you do have the borer, please take a picture of it (in focus!) and please write to Dr Picker, indicating your suburb, and evidence of the borer (description of affected plants, lack of flowers, rotting of central leaves and rhizome, and possible observation of the caterpillar). Include the date when it was noticed.

Send observations to :  mike.picker (at) uct.ac.za

The signs of a borer attack are yellow and brown central leaves in an agapanthus clump, that pull away easily from the plant. The caterpillars generally enter the flower bud and eat their way downwards through the flower stem into the rhizome, partially destroying it. The result is a lack of flowers on most agapanthus. The caterpillars are found on and in rhizomes that are dug up, or in stems, and are cream with black spots.

And I, alarmist that I am, connector of crawling dots, photographed these disas on Table Mountain (where Agapanthus africanus occurs naturally) and suggested on iSpot that this may be evidence of the borer. Botanical firebrand Dr Tony Rebelo's response was dismissive (correctly so, if we're talking science): "Did you dissect the parasitized buds? What on earth makes you suspect Agapanthus Caterpillars?: Why not Arum Lily Borers or Fig Tree Borers? Get us a critter and we will try and identify it without prejudice or preconception. Something has to stop the world being covered sky high in Disa uniflora!!"

So the man has a sense of humour.

Disa bud, Table Mountain

Fine, all true. But as a non bona fide botanist I was not about to start picking Disa uniflora in the national park.

But circumstantially? It ain't no fig tree borer. Why would it be? And arums don't grow that high. Though it's a possibility. But agapanthus abound. And the modus operandi looks. just. the. same.

Maybe the disas will make people sit up and take notice. Because right now they think it's just some gardening ladies in the suburbs crying, Worm! I'm curious about when it will begin to affect growers and nurseries.

Once the caterpillar works its way down the stalk, having destroyed the bud and turned it into black mush, it heads for the crown of the plant at soil level, there to pupate, and begin again. So far, the only solutions are to remove it mechanically (meaning find and handpick it out), or to douse the crown of the plant in poison. Poison, being posion, kills everything in its path. Dead zone. Ferndale, a local nursery in Constantia recommends poison. They even have a designated poison person selling poisons, whose personality matches the product. I am not a fan.

So. In my mother's garden, the agapanthus are being inspected and cut down and divided. Some of them have been doused. Those big blue swathes are now empty brown patches.

The only upside, at the moment, is that this creates room for improvisation. Meaning: new plants.

When in doubt, shop.

*** If anyone is able to photograph this caterpillar, please do. Check your agapanthus. My image is not very helpful for ID purposes, and if you are able to send me a better one we can post it to iSpot so that the pros are able to observe it better.

Kirstenbosch

Kirstenbosch National Botanic Garden. Over 1 million visitors were logged here in 2014, but I can't find current figures. I do not imagine they have dropped. That puts this garden on a par with the botanic gardens of much more populous New York City. Plus, unlike at the NYBG and BBG, you may picnic anywhere on the grounds (this should be a democratic right). There are no trash cans, and I have never seen any trash.

Having the most beautiful garden in Africa on your Cape Town doorstep is not something I could ever take for granted.

I renewed my Botanical Society membership a few weeks ago and purchased a late Christmas present membership for Tipsy (plus guest, for a little more - and it also grants additional free access to a scholar between the ages of 6 and 18), when we visited last week. Membership fees gain you entrance to this garden - its stunning grounds, displays and exhibitions; give you access to all national botanic gardens across South Africa; and - most importantly - support the mission and work of the Botanical Society of South Africa, including projects like CREW. 

At the nursery we also bought some Artemisia afra and Mentha longifolia for Tipsy's garden in Langa. Both plants are well known herbal remedies and if they survive the sandy soil and water restrictions, will be useful in her backyard medicine chest.

An hour at Kirstenbosch - watching birds, lying on the lawn, walking up the steep slopes, counting ericas, paddling in spring water, is an hour you do not need to spend on a therapist's couch. It may save some doctors' bills, too.

Bitten by the Boomslang

After a good lunch in the winter sunshine, my lovely friend Marijke Honig* led me up a garden path through the rockery at Kirstenbosch.

In the Cape winter, it is aloe season, and  bright sunbirds were twitttering amongst the high flowers. I am an IDIOT not to have brought the telephoto to South Africa. Yes, Vince, you were right, I was wrong. Again.

We were heading to the foot of The Boomslang, the affectionate name for what is properly known as The Kirstenbosch Centenary Tree Canopy Walkway, built to celebrate Kirstenbosch Botanical Garden's 100th birthday, this year.

Perhaps the common name is partly responsible for its astounding success (the garden has drawn record numbers of winter visitors, making even in-season summer tallies pale by comparison). 

Boomslang means tree snake (for curious non-South Africans, the pronunciation is kind of along the lines of WORM-tongue). The walkway is inspired by the skeleton of a snake. And a boomslang is a timid green, tree-dwelling South African reptile with a deadly bite.

The structure is stunning. In design, in execution, in effect.

The architect is Mark Thomas, the engineering firm Henry Fagan and Partners.

The view across the Cape Flats, as the snake spine vibrates under your feet.

* Look out for Marijke's book Indigenous Plant Palettes, later this year, published by Quivertree. *

Mrs Jaffar's samosas

Mrs Jaffar cooks her samosas at the back of her stall behind the stone cottages at the Kirstenbosch Craft Market. Her daughter Taybah works front of house, doing the selling. But she also makes them to order and delivers from her Wynberg home, if you need these delicious triangles for a party or lunch or...rugby match?

There is a choice of fillings: gently spicy curried beef, finely chopped chicken, cheese, or mixed vegetables. At the market the other day we bought half a dozen of each as well as some flaky little beef pies. The samosas were still hot (my mom and I could not wait till we got home), because this shy lady cooks them on site, right there.  The fillings are moist and light, the pastry crisp. Delicious. I recommend them highly.

Mrs Jaffar's Samosas, custom orders: 021-761-2209, or 083-457-5338.

Or catch her at the Kirstenbosch Craft Market, last Sunday of each month, Jan. - May, Sept. - Nov.
Corner of Kirstenbosch Drive and Rhodes Drive.

Christmas at Kirstenbosch

I have been watching the mountain for the last couple of days, waiting for some blue sky so that I could go back to Kirstenbosch, which lies at its foot, and take some more pictures. Yesterday was drizzly, and the mountain was in cloud. But today is gorgeous, and off I went. It's only about 5 minutes' drive from home.

I expected it to be deserted. But after an hour, during which I roamed up and down the slopes, from Pelargonium Garden to Peninsula Garden, from Colonel Bird's stream-fed bath shaded by tree ferns in a cool glade, to the hot fynbos slopes, dozens of families and groups of friends had arrived armed with picnics from home. 

Soon every patch of shade was occupied.

And by the time I left, just after noon, there was a traffic jam at the entrance. What a brilliant way to celebrate Christmas. And a lesson to botanical gardens world wide: Let them eat picnics!

There is no litter at Kirstenbosch Not a piece of paper. I did see one cigarette butt. There are no trash cans, either. One has to carry it all out again. BBG, NYBG, please take note:

Picnics are possible.

Now I'm off to drink some bubbly under the tree in the garden. Wish you were here.

Table Mountain Hike: the walk

We walked from Kirstenbosch, one of the most beautiful gardens in the world, up Skeleton Gorge, along Smuts Track to the Aqueduct, took a left to follow it down what is called on the map the Furrow, but which deserves a more scenic name, down between the Hely-Hutchinson and Woodhead Reservoirs,back round past the Victoria and Albert reservoirs on the Jeep Track, and into Cecilia Plantation to walk back to Kirstenbosch.

The whole thing took a little over six hours with many stops for panting (me), up Skeleton Gorge, photographs and a picnic at my favourite little mossy, sweet water waterfall.

The view from - almost - the top of Skeleton Gorge, just as one emerges from the indigenous kloof forest and sees what has been achieved after the long, shaded slog. Last year in late January we had already seen three disas at this point and this year I found the plants again but it is too early. They have buds, though, and in two weeks will be open.

Below. We were entertained and incredulous again at the complete lack of preparation made by some walkers encountered. The girl in the middle was making it down with slippery flip flops, but she didn't beat last year's blonde in high heels.

The guys surrounding her were resting, one with cramps, not having realized that Skeleteon Gorge goes straight up. They were headed for the Cable Station, without a map, and were under the impression that the mountain is flat at the top. It is not. We found them again at the top of the Gorge, asking how much longer it was and how difficult. I tried to persuade them to go back down Nursery Ravine, an easier walk than the way we'd come up, as two of them were very tired already and had a long way to go. The cable station had in fact been closed early due to wind (news given by other hikers, returning) so they were now planning to walk down Platteklip Gorge on the front face of the mountain. I'd like to know how they fared.

Boring Lecture, if you are reading this and are planning a hike on the tame mountain:

take a map

take water

take a warm/waterproof jacket: the weather at the top is not like the weather at the bottom.

take a high energy snack - local biltong and dried fruit are perfect!

Boring and oft-repeated cautionary tale: Table Mountain claims more lives than Everest.

Above, looking over Cape Town towards False Bay and the mountains to the East, SE.

The path taken. This leads to a sweet little wooden bridge which is perfect for breakfast if you are early. Or lunch if you are late - but we were pressing on a little. It crosses a pool and stream of typical Cape Coca Cola or tea water...something Vince is still uncertain about, coming from his turquoise British Columbian cataracts.

The aqueduct: this beautiful stone course cuts through the wild vegetation, making a lovely horizontal line across the fynbos. This is the place for the red disa, Disa uniflora, known as the pride of Table Mountain. But not yet. Give it another two weeks. Lots of buds.

One of my favourite places, anywhere. A little dripping water fall with ice cold, moss-filtered, clean water. We stopped here for our sandwiches (leftover roast lamb with arugula) and lychee dessert. And saw two very special and unexpected drip disas. Not the red ones. See next post.

Carrying on, the path moves quickly lower between two peaks, Junction and St Michael. The landscape has changed from open and windy to very green gorges, lots of ferns, water beside and below us.

I found buchu here in flower, and crushed its aromatic leaves for Vince to smell. I think it might be nice for cooking. It is drunk as a curative tea and tonic.

Pools formed as we descended, clean and clear and the colour of rooibos tea.

The kloof we'd come down in the background, having leveled out to the reservoirs in the middle of the mountain.

Complete surprise. The Hely Hutchinson Reservoir was empty. Still don't know why. We walked on the Jeep Track that starts between the two reservoirs here, an easy hour or so along it to where its start going down the mountain again. The wind was fairly howling at this point, and the last two reservoirs, quite full, had lapping waves.

Taking the jeep track down, skipping Nursery Ravine, we were now down above Cecilia, a local walk quite close to home, we still had plenty of juice in us to perform acrobatic floral feats.

Six o'clock saw us just entering Kirstenbosch again, with my right knee complaining loudly at all the downhill. Fern Buttress is in the foreground, with Devil's Peak behind.

So, I am in still in awe of this national monument of a mountain. Entirely city-surrounded and quite wild. We will be back, soon.

Next installment: the flowers

For Namib updates, check Vince's blog.

Skeleton Gorge to the Aqueduct

The ladders in Skeleton Gorge start after about  three-quarters of an hour of walking (with lots of breathing-stops). The walking, however, is like climbing a staircase that never ends. Five flights in a Brooklyn walk up? That's nothing. Even though I am jittery about heights, I like the ladders, because I can hold on.

 

I like the boulder-scrambling too. Much more fun than endless steps and the vegetation has changed, too, as you are now right in the streambed. The water trickles under the boulders and forms tannin-clear pools on sand. The walls are steep rock and soft with moss, and ferns and trees lean in from the edges. This is old Afro Montane forest, designed to repel fire. Fynbos on the other hand, needs fire.

I hoped that this might be a Table Mountain ghost frog, but it doesn't appear to be.

 

The end of scrambling, and the gorge broadens while the path returns as we zig zag up to the sunlight.

At a particular corner there is always a clump of disas, and here they were, in bud.

 

Pale blue and floriferous Pseudoselago serrata,  now also a popular garden plant, appeared once we had emerged from the trees. Plants at home in fynbos like nutrient-poor, slightly acidic soil, but this one seems to have adapted to many garden conditions. Lots of sun, please.

Up on top at last, though still far from Maclear's Beacon which really is the top, and we were not heading that way this time. My back was giving me issues and said, Any more an' I weell queet.

 

Struthiola ciliata, I think, though the books say it flowers earlier. Scented at night.

 

The carniverous sundew, Drosera trinerva, which often has white flowers.

I hit the brakes for this one and got down as flat as I could, but not flat enough. Eulophia aculeata, aandblommetjie (night flower) in Afrikaans. About 6cm tall, right beside Smuts Track.

We passed the breakfast pool (a traditional stopping point) where many disas were in bud. We will have to go back for them.

And turned off onto the aqueduct that was built to channel water into the reservoirs farther on.

The little waterfall was dripping its sweet water, which the Frenchie still spurns, sensibly, I suppose. He still distrusts our pale tea-brown Cape water. A child forever of British Columbia's turquoise pools. I drank a cool bottle of it to no ill effect.

 

Fuelling up.

 

My new disa. We had come looking for disas and I was very happy about this little one, Disa glandulosa. Quite stand offish, it pollinates itself, not happy to mix with hoi polloi of mountain pollinators.

 

Crossing the rickety bridge, with disas in bud beneath, near the water.

 

The Woodhead Rerservoir ahead, with the empty Hely Hutchinson above it.

 

These were everywhere: Tritoniopsis parviflora.

 

The stream had widened, fed by other tributaries from other valleys and high rocks, and was a series of tannin brown pools where tadpoles hung suspended.

While I sat on a rock in a pool, the plops of diving frogs broke the silence.

 

Parasitic Cassythia ciliolata tangled and tumbled over everything like cheese whiz sprayed at high pressure over all the vegetation.

 

Crossing between the waters...

An old favourite, Pelargonium cucullatum, in mass bloom between the reservoirs.

And a little thicket of Roella amplexicaulis.

 

Instead of following the jeep track, an easier walk but far longer, we cut left after Hely Hutchinson, heading for Nursery Ravine, Skeleton Gorge's twin on the other side of Castle Rock, and which would take us straight back down to Kirstenbosch again, where we had started. 

Here I bushwacked, thinking snakey thoughts, to photograph this mountain dahlia - Liparia splendens.

Stupidly, because I was a bit amazed, I did not take a picture of the trees at the top of Nursery Ravine. I smelled them first, and was convinced that the strong scent was an aftershave, on an invisible human, which made me surreptitiously take out my pepper spray ( I have an active imagination). After walking through dry grass and open fynbos we were suddenly in a green glade that looked like the Northern Hemisphere. They had small cones, like cedars, and were pale green, very tall, 40 feet plus, and had evergreen, soft needles. And they smelled like over-perfumed muggers...You laugh, but several men on Skeleton Gorge reeked of cologne.

What are they?

Out of the green glade and at the top of Nursery Ravine which was down down down all the way. Talk about jelly legs...

The open patch of brown at 2 o'clock from the dam below? In front of that is a white roof (one of many), and that is my parents' house. My mother used to be able to see hikers walking up the zig zags of Nursery Ravine.

 

My old friend, the blister bush, Peucedanum galbanum [spellcheck wanted to know whether galbanum should be 'jailbird'...].

The network of Kirstenbosch's upper gardens and paths.

 

The king protea, Protea cynaroides.

Back in the forest that flanks Castle Rock's lower reaches. Nursery Ravine's path was much steeper than I had expected and I don't recommend it for anyone with knee problems.

 

At last we were down again. A silver tree, Leucadendron argenteum.

We had finished three liters of water and three little Ceres juice packs on the mountain, and were still thirsty enough to love this fountain near the end of the path in Kirstenbosch.

All that was left was a walk across the beautiful gardens to the car park. I would have killed for an afternoon cup of coffee and a scone with jam and cream, at the upper restaurant, but we were moneyless.

 

So, a very good hike.  Leucaspermum above, but I don't know which one. 

It is a beautiful mountain. Just go prepared.