‘Small Overberg town touched our hearts‘

Nicholas Yell

WE WERE holed up in a cosy country pub, eating hot-buttered popcorn and quaffing pints of draught beer. Small children roamed between the islands of spellbound adults as the Springboks continued to hammer nails into the Wallabies‘ coffin. Saturday afternoons don‘t get better.

Seeking some respite from another cold front that was about to lash Cape Town, we‘d decided to head towards a likely sounding bastion of warmth and country hospitality we‘d found on the net – The Suntouched Inn in Napier.

Like many other small country towns near the city, Napier has experienced an influx of talented refugees in the last decade or so. Yet the thirty-something owners of the inn, Craigan and Angela Millar, are part of a more recent migration of younger couples who have moved here to try and make a life in this Overberg town.

Complementing their experience and passion for the hospitality and tourism industries is their love of international travel. And judging from the themed guestrooms in the loft floor of their restored old Napier house they certainly have a soft spot for the exotic furnishings and calming philosophies of the east. But The Suntouched Inn is certainly no Buddhist retreat; the owners urge visitors to let their hair down and party away.

After leaving the festive pub atmosphere, our plans of walking around the town to visit some of the gift shops and galleries were washed out by the storm still raging outside. So much for escaping into the sun. Yet squinting through the sleet piling up on the car‘s windshield, we luckily found an art gallery that was still open.

Run by two talented local artists, Janet Hall and Helen Vale, the gallery displays a wide range of local art and ceramics. And judging by the encouraging sales these business partners have been making since they opened earlier this year, the tourists appear quite enthralled with this absorbing space.

It was during our pre-supper drinks at Gunner‘s, a pub and grill a few doors down from where we were staying, that I bumped into the affable Mark Humphries, the brew master of the local Napier beer. And after sampling both the ale and the lager and giving it my thumbs up, Mark invited us for a tour of the brewery the next day.

We‘d heard good reports about Reneéssance‘s food and made our way there for dinner, but found it closed. So we returned to the family pizza and pasta restaurant at the inn. Washing generous helpings of pasta down with a red blend, we toasted to the hoped for sun‘s triumph over the storm by morning.

It seemed natural that we round off our evening in the lounge bar at the back of the inn. Rugby revellers looked set in for the night and we opted to chat to Craigan and Angela at a corner of the bar by the fire.

Yet the flames soon made us sleepy and we left the party people for the sanctity of our room: safe from the storm in the soft cocoon of la-la land.

On our way home the next day, we discussed the fun we‘d had in this village of olde world charm, fine beer and friendly people. And even though the storm had eclipsed the sun, there was no doubt – we‘d still been touched by the town‘s warm welcome.

Life