Latest news with #Babylonstoren
TimesLIVE
4 days ago
- TimesLIVE
A slice of the Karoo in London
Adjacent to the garden, The Newt's tent offered cider tastings, and then the tent that made my heart sing — the familiar blue logo of Babylonstoren, which provided the official rosé for the show. Sipping the 2025 rosé took me to South Africa's sunny vineyards, as hints of watermelon and strawberries delighted the palate. Congratulations were also due to landscape designer Leon Kluger and artist Tristan Woutberg for clinching both a gold medal and the prestigious Lawrence Medal (awarded to the best floral exhibit across all the RHS shows throughout the calendar year). Their impressive display of 25,000 stems of fynbos celebrated the country's biodiversity, specifically as shaped by the convergence of the Indian and Atlantic oceans. The overall feast of 'local is lekker' made this South African rather homesick, but equally, incredibly proud. For those who weren't fortunate enough to see the floral magic in person, the good news is that this will not be the end of the road for the Karoo succulent garden. The display will be transplanted to its final resting space at The Newt in Somerset, open to the public in a few months, where a slice of pristine Karoo wilderness will stand proudly in the UK's veritable garden of Eden.
Forbes
4 days ago
- Forbes
Babylonstoren: Why It's The Best Hotel In South Africa's Winelands
'Believe me, I know how lucky I am to be able to live here,' said Morné, as we jolted around another bend in the dirt road, the open-sided jeep catching speed as the slope steepened. Around us, the vineyards shimmered, all green-gold and honey-hued under the last stretch of afternoon light. In the back seat, a gaggle of jubilant, recently retired Belgians swayed in unison, breaking into a spontaneous Dutch folk song. I'd landed here, in the middle of South Africa's winelands, less than an hour ago. We crested the hill just in time for the sun's grand finale. A long, rustic table had been set — cocktails, chilled champagne, and small plates of garden-grown veg whipped into clever tapas. As the last wisps of cloud evaporated, golden hour reached its peak. This was Babylonstoren, a meticulously restored Cape Dutch farm-turned-hotel just outside Franschhoek. Owned by the same team behind The Newt in Somerset, England, it shares the same ethos: botanical beauty, slow living, and a touch of wry luxury. The property reads like a whitewashed village — geese flapping along brick paths, bicycles leaned against cottages, gardeners plucking edible flowers for the evening service. By day, the estate bustles. Day-trippers from Cape Town picking up jars of jams and bottles of vinegar, soaps and handcreams all made onsite. But mornings and late evenings are something else entirely — hushed, dew-soft, and scented with rosemary and citrus. I hadn't even unpacked yet, but I already felt the shift. The kind of place where you find yourself walking slower, eating better, noticing more. I sipped my cocktail and turned toward the view: vineyard rows tumbling down into the valley below. Morné smiled, already pouring the next glass. I believed him. Morné had been working here for a few years. There was a spark in his eye as he surveyed the undulating hills around us, the kind of quiet pride that only comes from being deeply rooted in a place. He pointed out the contours of the land, tracing invisible lines with his hand, explaining how the team had been working to reforest sections of the property with indigenous trees. 'My house is just over that way,' he said, motioning to a low hill blanketed in fynbos, the local shrubland that gives this part of the Cape its unique character. He and Christoff were in charge of the property tours — a task that, I gathered, was less about routine and more about storytelling. Together, they guided guests through the labyrinthine flower gardens, past rows of citrus and pomegranate trees, and into the expansive kitchen gardens where chefs wandered daily, baskets in hand. 'Everything you ate tonight came from just a few hundred metres from this table,' Morné said, almost offhandedly, as if that kind of self-sufficiency were commonplace. But that was the thing about Babylonstoren — it wasn't just a hotel. And the word 'resort' would feel absurd here. It was a working farm first with a handful of rooms and a spa worth bookmarking. The kind of destination where your breakfast egg might have been laid that morning by a hen you passed on your way to coffee. A place that didn't just look sustainable, but was. As the shadows grew longer and the last of the champagne was poured, I began to realize that Babylonstoren wasn't asking you to escape real life — it was inviting you to notice it more fully. They make their own soaps, candles, olive oil, and vinegar too — each one neatly bottled and labeled in the farm's own design language: understated, tactile, elegant. The three restaurants — Babel, the Greenhouse, and the Bakery — all draw almost entirely from what the farm produces. It's not just farm-to-table; it's steps-to-plate. But it's in the in-between hours — when the day visitors have left and the red earth dust has settled — that Babylonstoren reveals something more. The light stays sharp well into the evening, the sky a dusky purply blue that doesn't fade so much as deepen. You begin to see through the layers, past the curated beauty and into something older, more elemental. A glimpse of what life here must have once been. The rooms are set within whitewashed houses — former workers' cottages that now hold freestanding bathtubs, thick linen, and antique wooden wardrobes. The layout of the farm village has been preserved, so each path and stoop still feels lived-in, storied. Mornings are silent but for the occasional crow of a rooster or the hum of a bicycle wheel on gravel. At the end of the path, the spa is a generous, light-filled space, where time unspools. There's an indoor pool tiled in soft green, and an outdoor one framed by vines and fig trees. Scrubs are administered in open-air showers, the kind where you watch clouds drift over vineyards while your shoulders are massaged with apricot kernels. I was staying in one of the houses tucked far from the action, right on the edge of the farm where the landscape opened up and the pace slowed even further. Guests out here were given their own golf carts to get around — half the fun. I spent my evenings puttering along the lake's edge, trying not to crash into the hedgerows while being utterly distracted by the views: jagged mountains rising in every direction, catching the last blush of daylight. The villa itself felt more like a countryside retreat than a hotel suite — generous in size, with a proper living room and a glass-walled kitchen stocked with everything you'd need, from heavy cast-iron pans to boxes of locally blended rooibos tea. There was a rhythm to life here, dictated not by clocks but by the colour of the light. But the real magic happened in the early mornings. That first one — still a little jet-lagged — I stepped out onto the back terrace just after dawn. Before me, a wide, glassy lake, its surface barely rippling, backed by mountains draped in purple mist. I sat there, barefoot on the terrace, sun slowly warming the stone beneath me. Birds darted low across the water. Every so often, a fish would break the surface. The sunlight was so pure, so utterly uplifting, it felt almost sacred. I sat for what could've been hours — motionless, eyes fixed on the view — completely undone by it all. There's plenty to see in the area, Morné tells me, leaning into the passenger window as Peter, the hotel driver, pulls up to take me into Franschhoek. The road winds past vineyard after vineyard — this corner of South Africa is known for its Chardonnay and Syrah, its crisp Cap Classiques, and a winemaking history that dates back to the French Huguenots who settled here centuries ago. Franschhoek itself is compact and postcard-like, a few walkable streets lined with saloon-style restaurants, wine boutiques, and art galleries that manage to feel more lived-in than curated. But it was back at Babylonstoren that the story really stayed with me. On my final morning, Morné walked me through the gardens tended by head gardener Constance who flashed me the brightest of smiles — past the medicinal plants, through the rows of nasturtiums, into the cool, fragrant greenhouse. We passed chefs clipping herbs, gardeners waving from bicycles, staff setting up lunch in the shade of old oak trees. There was a rhythm, a gentleness to it all. What struck me most was how full the place felt; not just in occupancy, but in spirit. Visitors strolled slowly, smiling, feeling lucky to be here. The food was unfussy and full-flavored, the service gracious, and the staff — from the spa therapists to the bakers — seemed genuinely happy to be here. And maybe that's the rarest luxury of all. In a world where so many hotels talk about sustainability, community, and wellness, Babylonstoren somehow makes it all feel natural — like this is simply how things should be. I left it, hailed as the best hotel in South Africa, with mud on my shoes, a Waterblommetjie candle in my carry-on, and a renewed sense of hope: that a large, ambitious hotel can not only tread lightly on the land, but leave it — like its guests — better than it found it.
Daily Maverick
19-05-2025
- Business
- Daily Maverick
SA fisher-led nonprofit Abalobi hopes to reel in huge global prize with tech-powered approach
The company's approach to sustainable fishing and helping small-scale fishers thrive has netted it global recognition as a finalist in the 2025 Global Food System Challenge. Abalobi ('fishers' in isiXhosa) is a South African social enterprise that aims to revolutionise the way we catch and buy fish – and its modern app-based approach, which connects local small-scale fisher groups with shops, chefs and anyone who wants to buy fish, is already having a global impact. Abalobi has just been named one of four finalists for the Grand Prize in the 2025 Global Food System Challenge. The Muizenberg-based nonprofit, whose model has been piloted in more than 10 other countries, aims to transform the lives and livelihoods of the world's 500 million small-scale fishers by helping them to manage climate change and protect their employment. Abalobi is fisher-led and its vision is 'to cultivate thriving, equitable and climate-resilient small-scale fishing communities' by supporting small-scale fishers along the entire South African coastline to fish sustainably while continuously improving their fishing practices and earnings. Its tech platform and programme connects fisher groups and, increasingly, fisher cooperatives with markets, training and financial services. 'Fish with a story' is the South African brand for the fish that gets channelled through the Abalobi Marketplace app, which connects buyers and sellers, putting 'traceable, storied seafood supplied by local small-scale fishers' in the palm of your hand. Abalobi Marketplace also offers additional technology to fishers and is used in other parts of the world. One can also shop without the app via the 'Fish with a Story' webshop, online via Babylonstoren or in person at Checkers and other smaller brick-and-mortar shops. 'We had this 'aha' moment seven to eight years ago,' says Serge Raemaekers, one of Abalobi's founders and its executive director. 'You go to restaurants in Cape Town, even branded or marketed as restaurants where you can eat seafood from South Africa, but the main items on the menu are not from fishers landing their catch nearby. 'The prawns are from Asia, the salmon is from Norway or Scotland, the squid is from Patagonia, the hake is from trawlers or longliners. You do not easily find products from the fishers who are literally fishing a couple of miles from those restaurants.' Raemaekers, a group of fishers and University of Cape Town colleagues, including Abalobi cofounders Abongile Ngqongwa, now director of partnerships, and Nicolaas Waldeck, now food security programme director, were at the time (in 2017) working in a research programme at the university that focused on the 'co-production of knowledge'. 'At the same time,' Raemaekers recalls, '[we were] working with all these fishers catching these [fish] species and logging them, and we thought, hey, we don't have enough fish markets in South Africa where these worlds come together, so in the absence of that, why not create a virtual marketplace?' And thus Abalobi was born, meeting the need for small-scale fishers in South Africa to sell their wares, and the needs of local restaurant chefs, supermarkets and any home cook with a smartphone – now countrywide – to buy fresh, sustainably caught fish (Abalobi delivers). 'For small-scale fishers,' Raemaekers says, 'the biggest [issue] is they think there's a price [for their catch], but once back at the harbour, that price is way lower or there's not a market for what they have. 'On the other hand, restaurants are saying, 'Yes, I want to support small-scale fishers but I don't know where to go'.' With there being about 500 million small-scale fishers around the world, Raemaekers, who has a PhD in fisheries science from Rhodes University, wanted to understand certain aspects of the industry. 'How do you connect with communities that have deep, rich, local knowledge? What was going on in coastal communities, socially, economically, in the roles of women, in food security?' he explains. 'How do you bring that knowledge in a respectful way to the table? How do you bring that important information into a fisheries-development approach? How do you support the livelihoods of half a billion people while also protecting the oceans and marine life? 'Globally, in the ocean and climate emergency, for the 500 million people around the world who are fishing as small-scale, subsistence, artisanal fishers, how do we support them on their journey towards sustainable livelihoods?' Raemaekers asks. 'For us that's the most important aspect of this ocean and climate emergency.' How Abalobi works Abalobi 'tries to do three things well', Raemaekers says. First, data collection and data-driven tools and analysis, codesigned with fishers, to help them improve their fishing business and practices. Second, skills building – mostly training via hybrid e-learning. Third, connecting fishers with a dependable and transparent marketplace. Practically, the 'data' bit is shorthand for a vast range of digital tools (including apps such as WhatsApp and data visualisations) to help fishers articulate their work and collect and analyse data on their catches and their businesses. 'We spend a lot of time engaging with fishers around the notion that data is power,' Raemaekers emphasises, 'and if you use it, you can move the needle on a lot of things.' Skills building has evolved into an extensive e-learning programme. It includes coaches working with fisher groups on digital literacy, financial management, marketing, conflict resolution, organisational development and climate change. And, piggybacking on the data and skills aspects, Abalobi enables a hugely expanded marketplace for the fishers. 'To really unlock opportunities in fishing communities, we've built a marketplace that connects all these fisher groups with you and me, with retailers, with exporters,' Raemaekers explains. What does this mean for consumers wanting to buy fresh fish straight from the source? In short, they can ask an app to alert them to a particular type of fish when it's caught, place an order and have it delivered to their door. It's local, sustainably caught, reasonably priced fish harvested by small-scale fishers. The fishers receive fair prices for their low-impact catch without a middleman gouging their share or inflating the price to the consumer. They also get skills building, cumulative data collection on their catches and their revenues, and guaranteed access to a national marketplace – not just the quayside sales at the harbour from which they may or may not make a living, and have no guarantee of sales or of the volumes a buyer may want. (Pre-orders from larger buyers help with that.) For the fishing communities of all the participating fishers (Abalobi welcomes anyone who wants to participate), it also means enhanced food security through programmes that so far have benefited 8,000 beneficiaries to move from being food insecure to food secure (having access to adequate food at all times). 'We were working with groups of fishers who were codesigning [with us] and they were starting to use [our] mobile apps to record expenses, catches, income – it was an accounting tool but then it was also aggregating data,' Raemaekers says, explaining how an academic project turned into a vibrant and growing social enterprise. Registered as a nonprofit in 2017, Abalobi, through Raemaekers and cofounders Ngqongwa and Waldeck, started to raise more funding, which allowed more people to work full-time. 'Suddenly we had some staff and needed to stand on our own feet. There was momentum, fishers liked it – it was not just a research project,' Raemaekers says. 'They wanted to use it every day… and we knew that to grow it, it needed funding.' At that point 'it had a boring academic name, but as the fishers started engaging with it, they started calling it Abalobi'. Making an impact The organisation now employs 50 people full-time and another 70 part-time, with a particular focus on women in fisher communities. It supports 27 fisher collectives in South Africa and Kenya (a total of 7,322 small-scale fisher beneficiaries). Its impacts – checking the social, economic and ecological boxes – include annual revenues of almost $2-million, of which $1.67-million is channelled directly into small-scale fishing communities. Abalobi's list of prizes and accolades is long and illustrious, and includes the Earthshot Prize ('Revive Our Oceans' finalist); World Economic Forum-UpLink (UpLink Innovator); Ocean Resilience Innovation Challenge (winner); and the Zayed Sustainability Prize (Food Prize finalist). Raemaekers became an Ashoka Fellow in 2024 for 'disrupting the traditional seafood supply chain and changing consumer behaviour by empowering small-scale fishers with data-driven technology, direct market access and the necessary tools to run sustainable, ethical and profitable fishing businesses'. The winners of the Global Food System Challenge 'Seeding the Future' prizes will be announced next month, say its organisers, the Institute of Food Technologists and the Van Lengerich Foundation. But winner or not, Raemaekers, Waldeck and Ngqongwa are keeping their eyes on the real prize. 'We're honoured to be named a finalist in this process,' Raemaekers said on hearing the news. 'This kind of recognition supports the hard work of a lot of fishers, fishermen and fisherwomen, who have put in the hard work to get us to where we are – their efforts to drive ocean sustainability really matter. 'And hopefully, it helps to connect with and convince a whole lot of other players within this ecosystem that this is worth pursuing.' DM The overall winners of the 2025 Global Food System Challenge will be announced in June. Thirteen winners in three categories will each be awarded part of $1-million in prize funding, and a peer-reviewed, interactive database will showcase their innovations in forums such as the UN's Food and Agriculture Organization and its World Food Programme. This story first appeared in our weekly Daily Maverick 168 newspaper, which is available countrywide for R35.
News24
19-05-2025
- General
- News24
Babylonstoren flies a piece of the Karoo to London to wow at Chelsea Flower Show
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Times
19-05-2025
- Times
A succulent masterpiece at Chelsea Flower Show
The last thing you might expect to see at the RHS Chelsea Flower Show is a family of South African quiver trees standing high over an escarpment of ancient stone and surrounded by very English show gardens — filled with fragrant tea roses, giant allium heads and sunset-hued bearded irises. This is the offering of the Newt in Somerset as it marks its last year as the flower show's headline sponsor. The gardening teams from both the hotel's Bruton estate and its South African sister hotel, Babylonstoren, have come together to bid the world-famous event a dramatic farewell. The Karoo Succulent Garden pays homage to the South African roots of the Newt's owners, the tech billionaire Koos Bekker and his wife, the former magazine editor Karen Roos, and its connection to the majestic Western Cape landscape that surrounds Babylonstoren. This was their first hotel — they now have six in their boutique group, including outposts in Amsterdam and Tuscany — which they opened in 2010 after buying and restoring an old farm and 17th-century Dutch Cape house located in the Franschhoek area of the Cape Winelands, an hour's drive from Cape Town. • Chelsea Flower Show 2025: 23 gardens to look out for For inspiration for the triangular 45 x 15m Chelsea garden, the Newt's estate architect Katie Lewis has taken cues not only from Babylonstoren's topography, but also from the nearby semi-desert eco region of Karoo. Here, many of the country's most beautiful and resilient succulents thrive against the odds of heat, drought and wind. Lewis has filled the garden with 'vignettes' of everything she saw while visiting the Karoo last summer, guided by the master botanists at Babylonstoren, Ernst van Jaarsveld and Cornell Beukes. Six biomes have been sculpted at different heights in layers of sandstone, shale and quartz to replicate the rocks the South African succulents nestle among. 'It all starts with stone since stone begets soil,' says Van Jaarsveld, a renowned ornamental horticulturist who joined Babylonstoren after four decades of curating the Botanical Society Conservatory at Kirstenbosch Botanical Garden in Cape Town. There are the 6,000 plants, including rare specimens from 15 plant families, found across the Cape Floral Kingdom region. A long winding path runs through the middle of the garden, 'like a dry riverbed,' Lewis says, allowing visitors to get closer to these otherworldly species. Elegant fan aloes and bushveld candelabras jostle alongside the 6ft-plus quiver trees (so named because the local Khoi and San people hollowed out the side branches to carry their quivers). 'I don't think the majority of people will know they are a succulent, not a tree,' Lewis says. There will be varieties of fragrant pelargoniums and an abundance of what Van Jaarsveld calls his favourite cliff 'huggers, hangers and squatters' (that is, succulents that either hug the cliff, hang from their stems or squat between the rocks). On lower levels, gem-like succulents in peculiar shapes such as horse's teeth, baby's toes and bunny heads sit on a shimmery bed of quartz. Meanwhile, handmade pots filled with eccentrically named succulents (spirals of slime lily and frizzle dizzle, cathedral window and fairy washboard haworthias, ox tongue and warty gasterias) hang from two faux quiver trees to show just how easy — and delightfully decorative — succulents can be to grow at home. • Ask Alan Titchmarsh: readers' questions ahead of Chelsea Flower Show 'People will recognise some of the succulents from ones they possibly grew on a windowsill when they were kids — like mother-in-law's tongue with its blade-like leaves, the yellow-flowered pickle plant and the lithops that camouflage themselves like small stones to avoid being eaten in the wild — and then there are ones that are fairytale weird,' says Lewis. 'Gorgeous but strange.' Many have been grown at the Newt or in nurseries around the UK and a couple were sourced from Italy. But the quiver trees were tenderly and protectively wrapped by Van Jaarsveld and Beukes before being flown by plane in the cargo hold from Babylonstoren to London. 'We just couldn't get them of that size and number locally,' Lewis explains. To see these fascinating plants in the heart of leafy Chelsea is one thing, but to experience them up close in the Karoo Desert National Botanical Garden was something else entirely. I visited in early February at the tail end of a long, hot, dry summer. Here we could see first hand what Van Jaarsveld calls plants 'shaped by suffering'. In South Africa's unforgiving arid climate, these plants have found ways to survive. 'Some have chemicals in their spines to ward off animals, others like euphorbia have toxins that sting and burn the eyes and throat, and others turn adversity to good use,' he explains. 'Instead of the plant dying, it goes into a kind of depression and then starts growing again.' That's why, he says, 'succulents make such wonderful house plants, because they're difficult to kill … except if you water them too much with kindness.' On walks, Van Jaarsveld and Beukes would point out white-spotted zebra wart succulents and pencil cactus euphorbia winding its samphire-like tendrils through water-hardy fynbos shrubs. The region's indigenous Cape speckled aloes (aloe microstigma) were all neatly tied up in parcels, their octopus-like leaves protecting the inner crowns from the heat, radiant in shades of blush pink and rusty red. 'In the summertime the aloes put a block on photosynthesis by producing the pigment that turns them into these beautiful colours,' Van Jaarsveld explains. 'For other succulents, like paper rose haworthias (a species identified by the 18th-century British botanist and entomologist Adrian Haworth), their dead leaves form a cover like a dress to protect the inner skin from both heat and hungry animals.' We looked out for the unusual local fauna such as rock rabbits (a bit like chubby guinea pigs), desert chameleons, spotted eagle owls and shrub robins. Delicate aster daisies grow wildly in the rock crevices and we marvelled at the fat, fleshy stems of butterbushes, so named because 'you can easily cut them up'. The red-edged pig's ear — also on show at Chelsea — is intriguing too. The juice from its leaves is useful for soothing mouth ulcers and insect bites, and even helps to remove warts. It is a magnet for songbirds seeking out the nectar in its brightly coloured tubular flowers in the autumn. Back at Babylonstoren, Van Jaarsveld and Beukes play 'father, mother and doctor, and sometimes fun uncle' to the tens of thousands of succulents in hand-coiled pots, made by the local artist Nico van Wyk, that line every surface and shelf in the estate's purpose-built succulent house. 'If they're sick we have to find a solution to make them happy again,' Beukes says. Tiny gecko lizards dart around the plants, encouraged by Van Jaarsveld as a natural form of pest control against the tiger moths whose eggs do irreparable damage when laid in the succulents. • Read more luxury reviews, advice and insights from our experts The botanists make an entertaining duo, especially Van Jaarsveld whose pockets are always full of seeds and cuttings as he walks around the estate in his hiking boots and floppy hat. Together, on adventures searching for new and interesting succulents in Namibia, Angola and Zimbabwe, they've fallen off cliffs and been bitten by snakes, but they have never been deterred. 'I was always interested in nature, growing succulents and aloes as a young man,' Van Jaarsveld says. 'If you love growing things, you will remain a plantsman all your life.' The Newt's Chelsea garden is timely, not only because succulents are increasingly popular for indoor gardening, but also in light of the urgent need to start bringing more drought-resistant plants into our homes and gardens, given a recent climate change study that revealed that London could feel as hot as Barcelona by 2050. Other gardens at this year's show designed by Tom Massey, Nigel Dunnett, Matthew Butler and Josh Parker are following a similar theme of raising awareness of waterwise plants and endangered species. After the show, the succulents will be relocated to the Newt to go on show in its winter garden. 'We want to champion the idea that there's a succulent for every situation,' Lewis says. 'It's about seeing something that's very common but evoked in its natural setting, as well as seeing something really unusual that you've never seen before.' She hopes, most of all, when someone stands in the centre of the Chelsea garden, 'that they will transported a little to the beauty of the South African landscape'. Van Jaarsveld adds, 'I know in Britain the rainfall is completely different, the vegetation is different, but I hope our garden will inspire people to learn more about how these small, tenacious succulents have learnt to survive and thrive.' And maybe we might take away a few life lessons in how to be a little more resilient in these uncertain times. The Karoo Succulent Garden at the RHS Chelsea Flower Show is open to RHS members from May 20-21, and the public from May 22-24. For more information and tickets, visit or
