Boulders Beach, penguins, lost drivers and a meat-heavy detour to the Hickory Shack
We arrived at Boulders Beach late in the morning. Our Uber driver, Elijah, greeted us by asking if I was Thomas from the Bible. I told him I wasn’t, but named after him. He smiled and told us he was Elijah from the Bible. Cape Town has that kind of charm—people lean into the moment.
The Boulders section of the Table Mountain National Park consists of 3 pristine beaches, 1 penguin viewing area and and 3 boardwalks. We first took the back boardwalk, the quieter one. The path moves through thickets before it opens to the beach, and almost immediately we spotted a penguin with two chicks tucked into the shade under a tree.
The chicks were still covered in soft grey down, leaning into the adult bird for warmth. A small family, completely calm among the branches and dry sand. One of those moments you don’t rush.
Out at sea, dozens of penguins floated in the water like black-and-white commas drifting on the surface.
After a while we moved down toward the beach, where the colony spreads out across the white granite boulders. Hundreds of penguins wandering, resting, braying, swimming—an entire community, living exactly as they want to.
And, of course, a friendly reminder on the fence:
Penguins will bite.
Fair.
When we were done, we waited for Elijah. He never came. He went silent on WhatsApp. Radio silence. Ghosted completely.
The unexpected souvenir: the skull
Bewildered, we stopped by a few small souvenir shops. One of them had a large antelope skull just laying around in a basket — a striking piece. Eland, a large antelope species with twisted horns. It was beautiful. Too beautiful to leave behind.
We bought it, and suddenly we had a logistics problem.
The skull was far too big for our bags, so we bought an extra suitcase. The suitcase turned out to be too small, or – maybe a tight fit? We´re looking at repacking all our clothes across the suitcases to free up space and protect the scull—but lets leave the logistics to the last day. I mean we haven´t even gotten the zebra hyde delivered yet...
A friendly picture framer down the street helped us wrap it in layers of bubble wrap, without charges. Unfortunately, we forgot to take a photo before it disappeared into its plastic cocoon. So the blog will feature its wrapped version, not the skull itself. Such is life.
So we walked to the Hickory Shack and decided to rethink our plans over a beer.
A not-so-small snack at the Hickory Shack
The place isn’t fancy. It doesn’t pretend to be. It’s a local brewery with its own grill, its own smokehouse, cold beer and a steady flow of people who look like they’ve been coming here for years.
We got the table inside the window—literally in the window frame, open to the street. Perfect people-watching on both sides.
We ordered the Tasting Platter for Two:
4 chicken wings
2 Texas links
100 g brisket
300 g pork ribs
Slaw
Fries
Not exactly a “snack,” but we tried our best not to ruin our appetite before dinner.
From inside we could see the heart of the place: the handwritten chalkboard menu, the eland skull hanging above the bar (though not actually eland, as we later learned), the bar crowd, the stainless-steel tanks in the back room with their quiet bubbling and metal clinks.
The open grill gave off a steady heat. Large cuts of meat rested on trays. Smoke drifted out of the firebox. The cook moved calmly between grill and counter like this was all perfectly ordinary.
After a while—finally—a new Uber driver appeared.
The Scenic Route home (and two new souvenirs)
Our new driver, Yassen, picked us up. Somali heritage, born and raised in Cape Town. Friendly, a bit distracted by his phone, but he drove us safely. He took us over Chapman’s Peak Drive, the scenic route, where the cliffs meet the ocean in long curves.
He stopped at a viewpoint so we could enjoy the view. And of course, we left with more souvenirs.
A roadside artist sold figures made from old car body panels—shark, elephant, crocodiles, giraffes. Beautiful work. We bargained a little, but not too much. People should be paid for their craft.
Back home we measured the newly bought Eland skull (the big one, from earlier in the day) against our suitcases. It fits—barely. The new suitcase we bought just for the skull turns out to be the largest of all, and packing it will be an operation. We’ll get to that later.
Do people really finish the portions here?
After some time in South Africa, we’re starting to wonder if people actually eat everything they’re served. Portions are enormous. Everywhere. When we grilled at Badenhorst, we got so much meat that we lived on leftovers for three days. That seems normal here. For us it’s still slightly shocking.
End of the day
A ghosted driver, penguins, a window-seat brewery lunch, two metal animals from Chapman's Peak, and a scull that barely fits into a suitcase. A messy little adventure, stitched together by chance, beer and coastline.
Exactly the kind of day we love.
