Let me tell you the first secret to small towns: they are like a good wine; they will silently seep into your bloodstream, and only after the third quarter of the second glass, will you realise you have become steeped in their mystery.
Now not all small towns are alike… and this dear traveler is where we find their true essence, distilled over eons of time by the venerable drip-drip method; this is what we are venturing to discover.
Discovering Paternoster was unintended. It came about a bit like the Alice in Wonderland affair – by falling down a hole – well, initially at first. By the end of the tale, I found I had more than one family member living there. My most recent trip to the small town of Paternoster was due to a wedding e-invitation from my first niece and her soon-to-be-husband (then-current, rather-dashing fiancé of which we all completely approved). Both are start-ups who work in the film and arts industry and make up part of a 20-something trendy, Afrikaans society always on the cutting edge of things.
Approaching Paternoster as a proud Aunt I mused that Paternoster is really rather a windswept and dreary place. Stock-standard straw bales, along with an obligatory windmill, decorated the horizon of rolling hills on the 17km approach from the gloomy town of Vredenberg. With its scrubby collection of shops and buildings, Vredenberg is good for a larder stock up and not much else… oh and maybe a doctor or dentist on call, should an emergency arise. On entering Paternoster and pulling up to its one and only intersection with its stacked directional boards pointing to its myriad of accommodation options, I thought it quaint, if a bit twee.
Two hours in, and things had shifted quite dramatically.
Following a thirst-quenching brandy and coke in the Panty Bar of the Paternoster Hotel – so called for its exotic display of new and used ladies underwear strung from the eaves (the stories regal themselves), I had had the opportunity to catch up with some of the local colour.
Culturally, Paternoster is an accumulation of unbiased characters. The local community of Coloured fishermen who launch their boats each dawn to fish and empty their submerged crayfish nets, live in the upper part of town; their homes standing proud among the newer, whiter, more pristine self-catering rentals and newly refurbished, upmarket B&Bs. Most of these local families have lived here for generations and each member is acknowledged and integral to daily life, and as individual as the flapping washing that is strung up daily outside their humble homes. Their impish children, together with a straggle of near-adult young men, complete the painting outside the entrance of the Hotel. The younger set selling their handmade shell art and the older bartering illicit crayfish for sale.
Inside the hotel, weather-beaten farmers have trekked into town on this Friday afternoon to pass comment about the season and the crops they can’t harvest because there is nowhere to feasibly sell it; their backs turned away from the city weekenders who are on a roll of venom-green shooters; their shiny 4×4’s outside parked in opposition to the dusty and unnoticed bakkies. Salt of the earth and city-slicker alike sit engulfed, yet self-contained, amongst the rattle of pub sounds, which rise in decibel by the half hour.
Dinner at my 5-star hotel brings a completely new arrangement of weekend company. It is a chef’s table dinner setting for the handful of guests, with a hand-picked dinner menu, hosted and presided over by an eloquent chef and personality of local note. In the rarer air of hospitality-starred quality in Paternoster, there are many such notable – sometimes famous – and always wealthy, elite residents and landowners who have made their fortunes and have now come to dine, relax, perhaps paint and of course cook in this haven of lapping waves and white-sanded bays, interrupted only by the call of seagulls and sometimes the Saturday night revels of the tacked on township alongside.
My shaved venison Carpaccio starter served with brandied nectarine and local seaweed compote was not to be outdone by either the main course, the dessert, the cheese platter or the conversation, which would have found favour in a sky-scraping, rooftop eatery in New York as much as a local Parisian bistro along a cobbled and winding street. But I won’t dwell on the creative vagaries of Paternoster’s recent marinated seaweed, dune spinach, limpets and stuffed oysters right now.
Needless to say, just four hours in to what I assumed was a dusty sea resort event, I am mesmerised, drunk with the flavours of its characters and hungry for more.
Little is obvious in Paternoster, but there is no need to worry because the obscure will find you. The flavours come with the sea. Its breeze tugs at your skirt and forces the curls to eddy at your neck. The sounds are strident and yet soft, all at once. It’s a dichotomy, a dream, a mad adventure and a soft landing, simultaneously.
The Saturday wedding was sublime, washed by shining faces, bursting hearts, and showers of tears as the blue-grass band thumped out lively, mouth organ-led ditties in the scorching sun.
Yes, expect picture-perfect vistas of sea and sand; quaint white fishermen’s cottages in the tradition of old. Expect international standards of food; and rest and relaxation in genteel serenity. Definitely do not miss its delectable slice of life that will make you want to immediately start writing your first book… and definitely do not miss some of its local adventure:
Must-do things we simply can’t keep a secret:
– Book a guided kayak trip with Kayak Paternoster which launches from the main beach in the morning, to see penguins, seals, dolphins and fascinating birdlife.
– Meet Dianne Heesom-Green – a celebrated local sculpture – at her Stone Fish Art Studio and Gallery. Her coelacanth sculptures have been shipped around the world and she also hosts local art weekends for both hobbyists and professional artists.
– Don’t miss a meal at The Noisy Oyster restaurant (booking essential) where you will meet proprietor and Homecoming Queen look-a-like Debbie – the nicest person on the block – with her neighbouring gift shop Junk and Disorderly.
– Pass the lighthouse and enter the West Coast Nature Reserve to dip you toes in the blue lapping waters of Titties Baai for wild nature at its very best.
– Wander down the ‘high street’ and pop into The Trading Post to purchase a hat, flip flops and versatile kikoy – while you are at it pick up a second-hand book from their Paternoster Animal Welfare Society shelf, where proceeds go to helping to keep local animal populations in check. You are sure to find something rare and inimitable in between a well-thumbed donated bible and a hand-written history of a German immigrant doctor.
– Buy a heart-shaped shell decoration from the local children as a memento of your seaside sojourn; pay a little extra and get to click away at a wonderful array of toothy smiles.
– On your departure, book again so you can explore a little harder and a little slower next time – and along with its great gusts of fresh sea air you will find your heart will pump a little fuller and richer.