A stay in Vermont

Tell people that you're on your way to Vermont and many give you a puzzled response. They obvi­ously are not expect­ing you to go all the way to America for the week­end, but whilst their brains are whizz­ing around try­ing to place the town on a map, I res­cue them and explain that it lies close to Hermanus. The relief is palpable.

Acquaintances of ours have a wee cot­tage set in the heart of Vermont's 'old' quarter. After stay­ing in the town twice now, and famil­i­ar­ising myself with its streets, I have divided Vermont into the 'old' and 'new', or 'east' and 'west' quar­ters for my own reas­ons. The east or old side is rel­at­ively con­ser­vat­ive with smal­ler homes and pretty gar­dens, whilst the west suf­fers from a ser­i­ous case of 'my house is big­ger than yours' syn­drome (although there are obvi­ous exceptions).

One par­tic­u­larly unsa­voury example, des­pite its rather pretty Gaudi-esque archi­tec­ture, has depos­ited itself smack bang on one of the path­ways down to the sea, block­ing off the view for every­one else, and hog­ging the coast­line for the length of the house – its doors and win­dows closed and cur­tained for the one occa­sion a year when the own­ers grace it with their pres­ence, to mar­vel at the view they have secured for themselves.

Despite my cyn­icism, Vermont is a lovely place to stay. It's essen­tially a hol­i­day vil­lage set on the shoreline right next door to the other sea­side vil­lage of Onrus. Our little cot­tage (See: http://www.kitecottage.co.za/) is no big­ger than a post­age stamp, a little wooden hut with a couple of bed­rooms built as a typ­ical sea­side hol­i­day home, set in amongst a garden filled with fyn­bos — a per­fect sea­side escape, in other words. There is a sign at the gate, in com­plete anti­thesis of the other side of Vermont, wel­com­ing tor­toises, small ante­lope and birds. There is little evid­ence, unfor­tu­nately, of any of these, although tor­toises were ini­tially part of the land­scape, and we did see a little snake whilst we were there (much to my son's excitement).

The coast­line here is beau­ti­ful. Whilst Vermont does not have a beach (i.e. sandy stretches) as such, there are a series of green belts and gor­geous coastal paths that com­bine to provide a fynbos-rich stretch of coast­line, inter­spersed with tidal pools — per­fect for little ones. The sea­side is rife with the calls of seabirds, and if you're there at a quieter time of year there is little to dis­turb you, whilst the pools and alcoves of beach are gen­er­ally sheltered from the wind, as we dis­covered on our last visit when the wind howled for the dur­a­tion of our stay.

We stayed a few moments walk from the shoreline, which we man­aged to do at least once a day, des­pite the weather. The green belts provide dense fyn­bos and a place for incred­ible spiders to nest. The tidal pool areas are usu­ally thick with kelp, sea sponges and shells, if you like that kind of thing, but if you don't, head along the coastal paths towards Onrus as the beach there has a large, sandy stretch and is pop­u­lar for swim­ming and surf­ing. At busy times of year, such as Easter, it's prob­ably bet­ter to head there really early as it becomes some­thing of a bun fight to find park­ing and a spot on the sand.

One comes to Vermont to unwind, or to see whales, as Hermanus is lit­er­ally around the corner, but don't expect a typ­ical sea­side resort feel. The green belts and coastal paths have pre­ven­ted devel­op­ment right on the shoreline and, with your back to the osten­ta­tion of some of the houses close to the sea, you are at one with nature. This is a space in which to go on long mel­an­choly walks, sit and pon­der whilst watch­ing the waves crash against the rocks, or some­where simply to read for hours.

Behind one is the Onrust Mountain, a beau­ti­ful back­drop to the vil­lage that prob­ably serves as the source of the village's name — 'mont vert' means 'green moun­tain'. There is a small mall just on turn­ing into Vermont (you drive right past it on the left if you're on your way to Onrus) but it serves as a sign that the town is essen­tially a hol­i­day loc­ale, with only a 7 Eleven, post office, local pub and chem­ist to choose from. There is one hid­den gem — head upstairs to the inter­net café where there is a second-hand book­shop that is a lifesaver if you're there without read­ing material!

If you're on your way through to Hermanus whilst stay­ing in Vermont (and being in Vermont is a more sane option over the Whale Festival when accom­mod­a­tion in Hermanus is stretched to its lim­its) drive part of the way via Onrus after which the road joins again with the R43. Onrus is a more settled, unsul­lied ver­sion of Vermont. It's obvi­ously been here longer and there are fewer examples of osten­ta­tious­ness. If any­thing, Onrus is a haven for artists and the like, and there are more per­man­ent res­id­ents than in Vermont.

Just off the main road, at the De Wet Hall in Roos Street in Onrus is a monthly local mar­ket that looks worth attend­ing. It's well sup­por­ted by the local com­munity and is an eclectic mix of school-style craft stalls. But if it's mar­kets you're after then head off to the weekly Fernkloof Farmers mar­ket in Hermanus in the Montessori School grounds, or the Food and Wine Market at the Hermanuspietersfontein Wine Cellar — you won't be disappointed.

Also take time to visit Vermont's salt pan. Set away from the beach en route out of the town, the body of water lies set against the back­drop of the moun­tain and is a won­der­ful place to spot birds, includ­ing a pop­u­la­tion of flamingos.

Vermont Photographs — Click thumb­nails to enlarge

Useful Links:
Vermont Attractions
Vermont Accommodation
Cape Whale Coast
Western Cape Accommodation