We arrived in Cape Town feeling pretty good, despite the very long flight (14 hours including layover in Frankfurt). The exhaustion from the hours-long repetitive attempts to find a comfortable position eventually led to a few winks, which definitely helped. We picked up the one bag that we’d been asked us to check, and headed for the rental car lot. When we walked outside the airport, the first thing we noticed … heat! Ahh…… warm, but not hot, breezy, but not windy. In a word, heavenly. Time to put the winter uniform away and dress for summer.
With Jeff behind the wheel (right side once again) of our little white Renault, me navigating with Google Maps, and Mick hangin’ in the back, we headed into town, catching our first glimpse of Table Mountain on the way.
On the road, and even at the car rental lot, I noticed Rabbit model VW’s, called Citi or Chico, all over the place. Of course they reminded me of my first car – a used red VW GTi that my dad bought from the Dirito Brothers in 1986. I loved that car. Even used it as the subject of a descriptive writing paper. Even my car enthusiast son likes them. I’ll have to ask Mr. Dirito if he can find us one!
Our apartment, while near a somewhat seedy and busy (if you know what I mean) street corner, was great. Jeff liked it before we even went inside when he saw the neighbor’s door mat that read, “Hi, I’m Mat.”
We were on the 5th floor and were flanked by the garage on one side and buildings on the others. The building directly across was doing work on the top floor and all day long they went up and down, ten floors I think, with heavy, heavy bags. We were amazed, which made us not so grumpy about the constant, echoing noise.
We walked around our neighborhood a bit before finding a place for lunch and discovering that the dollar goes a lot farther in South Africa than it did in Switzerland! While we were eating a woman and her five children kept us thoroughly entertained. The mother played the drums while her kids danced in unison (the cluster of flattened tin cans around their ankles providing additional percussion).
Just down from our lunch spot, we found an African gem and mineral shop, where Mick and I spent a long time looking through polished rocks and chatting with the store’s owner before deciding on a couple of new favorites for his collection. A couple of blocks up from our place we found a great casual bar/restaurant called Tiger’s Milk where we later ate dinner and had one of the best milkshakes ever.
Our first full day was spent exploring the Victocria & Albert Waterfront, which Jeff had scoped out on an earlier morning run. It’s somewhat Fisherman’s Wharfish, if you substitute the Atlantic for the Pacific and Table Mountain for the Golden Gate Bridge! There are lots of places to eat, things to buy, and fur seals to entertain.
There is a great food court/market where you can have anything from ostrich burgers to barbecued springbok to lamb gyros to pizza to burritos (guess which Mick got?).
The very BEST thing about the V&A Waterfront, however, was Woof Project, a permanent daily dog adoption facility outside the food court. It’s almost exactly what I’ve been telling Mick and Jeff that every city should have – a place where dogs that need to be adopted can be walked and loved on – by locals, tourists, and of course those looking to adopt. There were about 10 dogs, all different sizes, ages, and types, tied up around the perimeter of the building. Inside the building, puppies! Unfortunately (for me), only children were allowed inside, but the fiberglass walls allowed for vicarious enjoyment from outside.
Such a great idea – puppies and dogs get socialization and much appreciated attention and humans get the satisfaction of providing it – no one more so than me. My favorites were Pink Floyd, a scrappy Jack Russell terrier mix, and Tom Selleck, a Dakota-colored retrieveresque mix (neither appropriately named).
We waffled on whether to go to Robben Island. Seemed like a must-do, but after reading a few negative reviews, we decided to skip it. But when Jeff went into the Nelson Mandela Gateway building to look the museum (it also serves as the passenger ferry terminal) and saw that there were openings on the next ferry, we changed our minds. That is, until we read the sign saying that, you guessed it, minors are not admitted without a birth certificate. Is there a lot of child trafficking done on Robben Island? Seriously!! Turns out, it was for the best because instead of the ferry we found ourselves at the Diamond Museum, where we enjoyed a free, and unexpectedly informative tour. Did you know that De Beers was never run by the De Beers family? Did you know that Tanzanite, which is found only in Tanzania is 1000 times more rare than diamonds (dang, should have bought some in 2007). Did you know that diamonds are not rare?
The next day we drove around the cape peninsula to see Cape Point and the Cape of Good Hope, the latter of which is the furthest south. On the way there, we happened upon Mineral World scratch patch.
A scratch patch, if you don’y have a rockhound in the family, is a big container of rocks that you can dig around in and find ones you can’t live without. You’ve seen them lots of places – usually there’s a little velvet bag that you can fill up with your favorites. In this case, the rocks were in very large, low-fenced areas interspersed with flowing water. Like Charlie in the Chocolate Factory, but this was Mick in the Rock Factory (it’s also a stone polishing and finishing factory). I think that makes Jeff Willa Wonka (or even better, Gene Wilder!).
Our next stop was at Boulders Beach to see its famous residents – the African penguins.
After we got our fill of these highly entertaining, wacky waddling creatures (which took a while!), we continued along the coastal road, comparing the views to those along the California and Oregon coasts. After entering Cape Point National Park, we took the road towards Cape Point, parked, and headed out on the lighthouse trail (though Mick would have preferred the funicular). In all directions, the views were stunning, but it was hard to keep our eyes off the Cape of Good Hope, off to our right on the way up.
We took a few pictures when we reached the lighthouse, but when we spied a narrow trail slightly below the lighthouse, leading further out on the cape, we ventured on.
The wind was definitely blowing, but the slightly different vantage point was worth the effort. With two choppy oceans – the Atlantic and Indian – throwing waves against the base of the cliffs far below, we wondered how many ships had braved these waters and how many didn’t make it. I can’t explain why, but for being so far from home – on the other side of the planet and in a different hemisphere – we didn’t feel it.
Which was nice.
On our way back to the car, at a lookout area below the lighthouse, we finally encountered the baboons that so many signposts had warned us not to feed. The dominant of the two was eating a granola or candy bar he’d taken from a lost or abandoned lunch bag that he clutched closely to his chest. When he dropped the wrapper, #2 swooped in and tried desperately to glean any remaining morsels from the wrapper. It’s hard to deny a shared ancestry when watching these little guys use their hands, but I sure wish the process of evolution could do something about their rear ends.
The views on the ride back to Cape Town, on the opposite side of the peninsula, were gorgeous. Part Big Sur, part Oregon coast, part Shangri-La.
We stopped off at a beach that looked pretty, Scarborough Beach, and found it full of windsurfers and kite boarders (whose car of choice is apparently the VW Citi/Chico).
By the time we made it home, what Jeff initially thought was driving fatigue turned into that achy all over, hot-and-cold feeling that requires getting into bed ASAP. Luckily, by the next morning, he felt good, which was a relief. Rather than hiking up Table Mountain, however, we decided to take it easy. We Ubered over to Sea Point, where I’d made an appointment for a much-needed haircut. After having a quick but yummy lunch, Mick and Jeff headed for the beach and I headed to see Angie at Excentric Salon.
Two hours later, after a haircut and a “First Shampoo” treatment (similar to keratin treatment, but safer & less $$), Mick and Jeff picked me up, a new woman! We found Mick a sorely needed new pair of swim shorts as we walked back towards the waterfront – perfect timing as we found the public, oceanfront pool shortly thereafter.
We didn’t stay long, but both Mick and Jeff spent some time in one of the pools and, when the diving pool was opened up, Mick braved the high dive several times.
We walked a bit after leaving the pool, allowing Mick and Jeff to dry off before getting another Uber ride to the departure point for the Table Top Mountain gondola.
Our timing was great because there was no line and it was just prior to sunset, so the lighting was perfect. Once the gondola gets moving, the base of it turns around, so everyone gets a 360-degree view – and a view down, if you’re brave enough!
At the top, we walked around and even spotted a “dassie,” which looks something like a marmot. We knew our pictures couldn’t capture the view or the essence of the “Mother City” and her signature mountain, but we took lots anyway. When our third Uber cab of the day deposited us at the V&A Waterfront, we found our marketplace just closing up. So, rather than Uber #4, we walked to Bree Street, two blocks up from our apartment for a great dinner at Clarke’s Bar & Dining Room. Mick and I each tried one of Jeff’s oysters and, nope, still don’t like ‘em. Back at the apartment we got started on our packing and cleaning before bed, so we could be ready to hit the road at 10:00.