Planting a Wild Food Garden at Moya We Khaya - Notes from a Cape Town  Botanist

See This Report on Visiting Kirstenbosch Botanical Garden In Cape Town SA

is utilizing a security service for protection against online attacks. This process is automated. You will be rerouted once the recognition is total. Kirstenbosch Botanical Garden, Cape Town, South Africa. I'm not a plant person. I suppose that's far better than not being a people person. Or not being a canine person. Or a feline person.(For the record, I am two of the 3
. I'll let you think.)It's not that plants and I have a bad relationship(other than for blackberry bushes. I shouldn't be around anything that depends upon me for nourishment, yet will silently pass away without even a scream or a whimper. The only home plant that we have is a poor, limp you know what? I don't even know what type of

plant it is. It's a bad, limp, long-suffering green thing called Nigel. However after a visit to Kirstenbosch National Botanical Garden, simply outside of Cape Town, I started thinking that maybe, perhaps I could be a plant lover. Or, at the very least, a plant liker. Or maybe simply less of.

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an organized plant-murderer(for Nigel is the sole survivor in a genuine chlorophyll-tinged bloodbath). We took a taxi, for which I'm certain we overpaid(however it was still only about$ 10 or$15, so we didn't fuss ). Even the drive is charming. The breeze that runs over Cape Town doesn't reach Kirstenbosch, and we found ourselves roaming around in the
searing mid-afternoon sun. There are lots of paths and tracks which crisscross the garden. The walking takes numerous hours. We didn't do that. Undoubtedly. (We found the panorama at the base of the mountain to be charming enough for our requirements, aaaand we had the included benefit of not getting heatstroke.)Likewise, please note that my spouse is wearing denims.

DENIMS. Still, it wasn't too long before we started to wilt. I refuse.  Check For Updates  continues. I am a beast.) However even in the searing heat, even for the brief time that we existed, Kirstenbosch was beautiful and picturesque. And romantic as hell. Or it would have been, if we hadn't all been slowly melting. And, you know, photobombing one another.