GRAIN AND RAIN
Golden fields ripple in every direction, a carpet of wheat shimmering in the breeze. Every now and then, the monotony is broken by a town, a farmhouse or a patchy yard guarded by a scrum of sheep.
I’m standing on Piekenierskloof Pass, the rocky full stop that marks the northern boundary of the Swartland. From this lofty vantage point, looking south, I’m struck by the scale of the region. Dusk is settling over the landscape as I trace my route in the lengthening shadows, following roads from town to town. I can see all the places where I sat with farmers, flower shop owners, bakers and winemakers, on my quest to find an answer to a seemingly simple question: What is the Swartland?
Malmesbury local Jolene Janse van Rensburg is the manager of the Swartland Wine and Olive Route, and she’s often found herself grappling with the same question. She says it would be tempting to define the region according to the municipal jurisdiction, but this would awkwardly lump together coastal holiday towns like Yzerfontein and Grotto Bay with inland farming towns like Koringberg, Riebeek-Kasteel, Darling and Malmesbury.
“The coastal towns are more West Coast,” she says. “The Swartland has something else – a different feeling. Everyone who lives here will have their own idea of what that feeling means.”
Harvest time
For Cobus Bester, the “feeling” Jolene speaks about has do with the cycle of farming life. “The Swartland is not for babies,” he jokes. He’s holding a French press – the delicate glass object almost comical in his huge, calloused hands.
Cobus was waiting for me at the entrance to his farm Uitkyk on the Bottelfontein road between Moorreesburg and Malmesbury. With his arm dangling out of the window of his bakkie, he gave me a casual nod before directing me down the dusty trail to
