A Rough Day in Africa

At 4:00 am, we reluctantly hop in our cab for the CPT airport.  It’s a good thing that I was wide awake because our cab driver was not…he was either drunk or exhausted because about every three minutes he would swerve, every car on the highway was flying by us, and I’m pretty sure half the times I looked at him his eyes were closed.  Luckily we made it, and six hours later we’re flying out of Jo-burg, sadly saying goodbye to South Africa, proudly holding our touristy vuvuzelas, and ready to head back to “real” Africa.  We land in Nairobi at 2:45pm and although we proceed quickly to customs, 45 minutes later, I’m finally getting my passport stamped.  Remember when I spoke so highly of my experience with Kenyan customs and the officer who helped me and commented on my smile? Yeah, I change my mind.  Not only did the customs officer invalidate our current visas that are supposed to be good, but he made me go back and fill out the visa app form again, AFTER he let Fernando through without it.  He also would not let me buy a single-entry for 90 days and made me buy a transit visa that only lasts 2 (that's going to help).  He claims that Nairobi does not sell multiple entry visas (I'm not quite sure why the largest city and capital doesn't provide them).  He must have felt me killing him with my eyes. Bad experience #1.  We finally get our bags (minus my ski jacket that was evidently taken out of my bag during our wonderful customs experience. Bad experience #2.) and find Mama Shamim, who had been waiting with the cab driver for an hour and a half (why they got there so early, we don’t know, but this would come back to haunt us later with a $50 cab tab). In an attempt to get some souvenirs, Mama Shamim takes us to the Masai market in downtown Nairobi.  We set foot on the grounds and within ten seconds, we each have 2-3 guys trying to help us shop, bringing us to their stands and harassing us for business.  Within two minutes of being there, we each had about 5 guys and by the five minute mark, we’re fed up and leave. Bad experience #3.  It’s pretty sad because for all their work to get business, they got NONE.  And we will not be back.  We then proceed to the grocery store to stock up on snacks for the bus ride back to Shirati.  After having a guy cut right in front of us in the line, I pay and thank the bagger for my groceries by saying Asante (thank you in Kiswahili); he proceeds to inform us that “on this side of town [they] know how to speak English, so I should too.” Wow, talk about some friendly people.  Bad experience #4.  Luckily we eventually made it back to Mama Shamim’s and stayed inside enjoying time with Mercy, Mama, Natasha, and Carolina, safe from any more bad experiences.  (I apologize for the negative comments, but this was my one horrible, angry, negative day of the trip.  Great things are to come, I’m sure.)

Heaven for a Self-Proclaimed Fat Ass (F.A. Post for Week 3)

Ok, so you may have noticed that none of my previous South Africa posts (beside short mentions) have featured my culinary vacation.  This is because I knew that it would take an entire post.  The moment we landed in South Africa, I was in heaven.  The fast food restaurants in the mall, I mean airport, are not like ours back home; you don’t feel nasty and greasy afterwards.  Whether Anat, the Mediterranean spot that has great lamb schwarma with a topping bar or KFC big boxes that have great chicken (yes, it really is GREAT, much better than in the US, and trust me, coming from a Popeye’s faithful, this means a lot), the fast food was impressive and diverse.

On a more refined note, we ate our way through the top restaurants in Cape Town and the surrounding areas.  Each day, we chose one meal to splurge on and enjoy the best of South African cuisine. I enjoyed:

-Lamb breddie (basically a pot roast)

-Pickled fish (that was surprisingly amazing)

-Putu and chakalaka (awesome name, nothing impressive, but is couscous with spicy baked beans)

-Snoek and hake cakes (local fish: snoek is rarely served at restaurants for some reason, but has a wonderful, smoky taste; hake is the typical fish beer-battered and served w/ chips)

-New Zealand mussels (in an amazing garlic cream sauce that went great with garlic toast…no one would come near me due to my pungent but tasty breath)

-Grilled Yellowtail (a little dry but salty, good flavor)

and the grand finale…a South African game kebab featuring Kudu, Springbok, Impala, and Wildebeest (all of which tasted much like a beef filet, but each with a slight variation; as they are game, they were much leaner, but still had great flavor; I think I’d have to say the Kudu was my favorite)

Finally, I must point out that Molly, Fernando, and I are the proud first customers of Roberto’s, a wonderful restaurant on Long Street, whose chef is of Portuguese descent and although it is not strictly Portuguese food, some of the sauces and starters have a cultural twist to them.  Not surprisingly, we were totally into being the first customers, and Roberto himself jumped on the bandwagon, taking pictures of our meals, “the first plates ever served.”  We even took a picture with Roberto and are supposed to be put on the “wall of fame” and posted on his culinary blog.  So, if any of you reading this live in Cape Town or will be visiting in the near (or distant) future, please take a walk up Long Street and visit our good friend Roberto for a wonderful meal (or two or three)…and remember to look for our picture!

Spending time with a Legend

It’s not every day that you find yourself in the company of a Nobel Peace Prize winner and worldwide legend.  The wonderful people at the Desmond Tutu Peace Centre have this honor every day.  I have gone back and forth on whether to post about this, but in reflection, I am so impressed by Archbishop Tutu’s love for life and people, genuine happiness, and jovial nature, I had to express my honor to spend time with him.  Thanks to some wonderful people, we had the honor of having tea with the Archbishop on Wednesday and attending a prayer service lead by the Archbishop on Friday morning.  When arriving for the tea, I must admit I felt awkward, that I was intruding on an office ritual, but within seconds of being there, not only the staff but the Archbishop made me feel silly for worrying.  Joined by staff, family, and three Dutch reporters, we all laughed, listened, and enjoyed the humor, insight, and intellect of the Archbishop.  At one point he even interrupted himself mid-sentence to ask one of the media crewman if he had had tea yet and why he wasn’t joining us, simply desiring more warmth and humanity around him.

Our second experience, a small prayer service at the well-known St. George’s Anglican Cathedral, began early and cold, but we soon were warmed by the love and hope in the small chapel of St. George’s.  Aside from the service taken from the prayer book, the Archbishop spoke for humanity and peace, an enlightening and uplifting service.  He even paused the service to welcome all visitors and had each of us stand, introduce ourselves and our homes, and appeared genuinely honored that we had come.  We left, each receiving the blessing of the Archbishop, with a smile on our face and a lighter heart.  Thank you, Archbishop Tutu, for your wisdom, your actions, your example, and your hospitality.

A Table with a View

Our final day in Cape Town was the day that in a way we had been waiting for since we first laid eyes on the city.  Our first day, we were walking to breakfast, when Fernando suddenly demanded that I turn around.  Behind us, towering over the city was Table Mountain, a 4000-or-so-foot mountain.  Home to a diverse ecosystem of beautiful flora and unique fauna and a popular attraction for climbing enthusiasts, we knew we had to go.  After two cloudy days (which are described as “the tablecloth being set”) the plan was set for a final day climb.  It did not disappoint.  We began our walk from St. George’s Cathedral (see later post) at 8am and decided to walk all the way TO the mountain.  About an hour and a half and a good 2-3 miles in, we were so close but already tired of the steep and winding hills, so we cheated and grabbed a mutate the rest of the way.  Once at the bottom, we began our ascent up the Platteklip trail (a shorter, but steep climb up the mountain).  It took us an hour and 45 minutes (what is estimated to be 2-2 ½) to wind our way up the slope of the front face of the mountain, all the while looking out onto the city and harbor, a beautiful, but reverse view of our discovery of Table Mountain.  Once on top, the view was better than any I’ve ever seen in the world.  To the north, we could see miles away, past Blouberg into the far reaches of the suburbs; and to the south, we were able to point out all the places we had been to the previous day, looking out past Cape Point to the great ocean…and somewhere out there, Antarctica.  After about a hundred pictures and even more sighs and moans at the beauty, we grabbed lunch (again with the best lunch view I can think of, looking onto Sea Point and the turquoise ocean) and took the cable car down, an impressive machine, that holds about 20 people with a floor that spins 360 degrees during the five minute descent from the mountain.  Interestingly enough, the original cable car was built in 1922 and operated until recently (when it was replaced with a VISA-sponsored car) without any accidents.  Once down, drenched in sweat, exhausted, and burning up in our long sleeves and pants (as advised for the “incredibly cold summit”…bullshit), we took our first midday break of the entire trip-much needed!

More adventures in the Western Cape

Yesterday, rather than try to navigate our way to Cape Point and back, we went the easy route and hired a tour guide/driver for the day…best decision of the trip!  At 8:45 am, Leonard picked us up at our house and off we went to explore!  A very interesting guy, our Leonard spent 30 years working for an insurance agency, in the middle of the city with a beautiful view of Table Mountain…always looking, never experiencing.  Last year, he decided that he was tired of just observing the beauty of Cape Town, and so he got his accreditation at tourism school and has been doing half day to week long adventures all over South Africa ever since.  The tour began weaving through the downtown and waterfront areas, as we learned much more about the areas that we had been traversing for the past three days, getting an up-close view of the World Cup stadium (that has extra-large entry doors to allow for an evacuation of 70,000 people in less than 15 minutes…WOW!).  We then made our way through the seaside neighborhoods and suburbs of CT: Sea Point, Clifton, Llandudno (the most exclusive home of a nudist colony), and Camps Bay (a great place for celebrity-spotting), ALL with amazing views and terrain that rival any coastal village of Europe.  We stopped at Hout Bay (excuse me, the Republic of Hout Bay as they like to be called), a quaint fishing village, and we took a boat out to Seal Island, which is four huge rocks home to hundreds of seals that play and live in the waters outside and within Hout Bay. 

From there we trekked to the ultimate destination, the Cape of Good Hope, a location that we both remember learning about in early elementary school (Leonard affirms how amazing it is how well-know the Cape of Good Hope is to Americans, being so far away from the US).  It does not disappoint; with a strong, cool breeze, and refreshingly clean, tasty air, the Cape does not disappoint and there is something truly magical about being at the SW-most point of Africa, the gateway to India for mid-millennium explorers.  Next is Cape Point, the hill atop which the first lighthouse sat, later replaced by a newer one at the point which juts into the ocean rather than up high (the old lighthouse was often covered by fog or clouds, rendering it useless to most sailors).  We finally make it to Simon’s Town for lunch, home of the South African navy and African penguins.   After a nice lunch looking out onto the bay, we began our search for penguins…they weren’t too hard to find.  Along the path through the bushes, we came across penguin after penguin hanging out in between the brambles.  Authorities don’t understand why they enjoy the warmth of the Boulders in Simon’s Town, but every time the penguins are transported to where they’re “supposed to be,” they beat the truck back to Simon’s Town.  Our final stop was at Kirstenbosch Gardens, a mecca for garden clubs worldwide.  Although we were exhausted and rushed at the end of the day, we couldn’t help but look in awe of the beauty and breadth of the Gardens’ collections.  My mom and grandmother could spend DAYS there.  They had a garden of nearly-extinct plants, a garden of aromatic plants (I have flashbacks to my childhood and my mom constantly telling me to smell her fingers after rubbing mint, chocolate mint, rosemary, sage, et cetera, et cetera), and many more.  Thus ended our cram-packed day of touring, experiencing, and enjoying the areas to Cape Point and back.

Being a tourist in the city of Cape Town

Over the past 3 days, we’ve walked all over most of Cape Town proper.  We covered Milnerton, downtown, the entire Waterfront, the Gardens, Robben Island, and everywhere in between.  We rode to Robben Island on an early morning ferry that gave us a beautiful view of Cape Town in the morning.  The island is a magical place, blending a wonderful view with an infamous history and an impressive museum and rebound from its apartheid-era usage.  The tour began with a bus tour of the island highlighting the different barracks, the town in which almost all museum/island employees live, and the home of Sobukwe, a political prisoner who was restricted to solitary living the rest of his life.  Cool fact- one of the churches on the island hosts all town weddings on one day of the year: February, 14^th, yep on Valentine’s Day…how romantic?!  The second part of the tour is led by an ex-political prisoner who took us through the barracks in which he lived, explain life in the prison, and gave us the history of the famous B Barracks that housed Mandela and many other notable political prisoners.  Our guide was imprisoned in 1978 for incitement, a charge that was evidently the popular reason for throwing a non-white political activist in jail.  There’s something truly special and unique about learning about a place as famous as Robben Island from someone who actually lived the daily abuse and persecution.  We stood in the courtyard in which Mandela was allowed his one hour outside each day and hid some of his revolutionary documents that would assist in the ending of Apartheid, we experienced history.  Our final experience on the island was not a great one though.  The island is known for being home to tons of penguins so on our way back to the ferry, we took a walk on penguin boardwalk.  We made it a third of the way down, had seen no penguins, only the hundreds of brown birds covering the path in front of us, and could no longer stand the indescribable stench of the bird poop that we soon realized we were walking through.  Needless to say, we spent the next five minutes running back to the ferry, doing our best to scrape the crap off of our shoes.

The rest of the day we spent milling around the V&A Waterfront, which is a beautiful (although very touristy) area of town, with great shops, a big mall, wonderful scenery, and colorful/impressive lodging and living that rival any major wharf or harbour view.

On Wednesday afternoon, we visited the District Six museum, which is a unique exhibition of the effects of the Apartheid-era in South African history.  In the 20^th century, the city was divided into districts, and District Six was a vibrant, diverse community of African, Colored, Indian, Muslim, and Jewish families, known for wonderful music, dancing, and living.  But in 1966, the government began the forced removal of the entire community, as the district was now a “White Group Area” and leveled the land.  The residents were moved to the Cape Flats, which are larger, more barren, drier areas of the city with little sense of community.  One of the worst parts is that the area to this day remains flat; no one developed the land.  In 1994 with the creation of the new, democratic government, the District Six museum was created to bring the former, rightful residents together to share their experiences and build a common story.  This story is what we observed in the small, but incredibly informative, 2-story exhibit of the District Six museum.  Although not directly exhibiting Apartheid and its policies and history, the story of District Six exemplifies the grave effects of the Apartheid government on non-white populations in SA.

A Dream Comes True: Welcome to South Africa

I’ll start this post with 7-year old Spencer Frederick.  A friend of my parents went on vacation to South Africa and brought him back a t-shirt with a beautiful flag of red, green, blue, yellow, black, and white, and underneath it said, “South Africa.”  Now, this was 1994: Nelson Mandela was elected president of the Republic of South Africa in the first truly democratic elections in the country’s history.  And little Spencer was fascinated!  Instantly hooked.  From that moment on, his dream was to one day go to South Africa. 

Now, with the amount of traveling in college that I was very fortunate to be able to do, one would think that South Africa would be my first destination, no questions asked.  Interestingly enough, SA always came up but lost to a much desired European destination.  My time, though, has finally come!

We landed in Johannesburg (Jo-burg to the locals) at exactly 19:12 SA time, and I could feel it in the air.  I had made it.  Even from the moment we were on board South African Airways, I knew this was going to be great.  I honestly do not have words to describe the insane scale of the Jo-burg airport.  Completed in 2009 in time for the 2010 World Cup, the place might as well be its own town.  With multiple food courts (outside security, just for visitors), we were in heaven for our second dinner in 4 hours.  South Africa has some great chain restaurants, like Spur, the “American” restaurant whose symbol is a Native American chief, or Wimpy, the SA version of McDonald’s I’m guessing, Anat, with Mediterranean fare, and best of all, Nando’s, upscale chicken dishes, obviously named after my SA travel buddy.  Then there are the insane amount of shops outside security, inside security…it’s basically Fifth Avenue crammed into an airport.  We almost missed our flight we had so much trouble deciding on dinner, only to board our flight to Cape Town and be served meal #3 in six hours.  I know y’all in no way doubt how much I enjoyed this constant activity of eating. 

Midnight- We arrive in Cape Town and although I can’t see much of anything, I can feel the beauty of the city and I have a feeling we’re going to enjoy our week.