http://shinyfastandloud.com/?p=21 
June 24th.
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Following the Cape up to Cape Town, we came across Good Hope Nursery, “specialist in indigenous plants.” I screeched to a halt and backed up. Though we were arriving almost exactly at closing time, I got one of the workers there to give me a brief tour of the place, as I wanted to see what life was like for my fellow-plantsmen on the other side of the Atlantic. It was a very small nursery, but a happy place, and I got to see little proteas in their little pots and all kinds of other things. “All your fynbos requirements,” said the sign, referring to the ecosystem particular to the Cape, the fynbos (“fine” or “small” bush, = shrubby vegetation without timber trees; but also the distinctive, very odd flora of the Cape, about which I will write another time). After the brief tour we resumed our trip towards Cape Town, and I asked the worker there the way. He pointed it out to me, and then asked me if I’d take him home, as he didn’t have a car. So we drove him to his place, a few miles down the road. He said the Native-Plants business (here called “indigenous plants”) is good there, as every landscaper is required by law to plant a certain percentage of native plants. (Would that we had such enlightened laws in America). He himself was from Mauritius. He liked it here, but had been here six years, and was thinking of going to the next place, though he didn’t know what it was. He had long red hair in a kind of baggy knit rasta cap – settling down did not look like part of the plan.
He gave us directions, and then we took him home.
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