|
November 16 – 18
I’m now in Cape Town, South Africa! After being
jazzed with such a fantastic film experience and
meeting new friends, I knew I could not let it stop
when we wrapped (see
Kaiser Clark's previous article on his own Blog). So the first thing that came to
mind was seeing a great white shark. The second
thing was rugby. Cape Town does both so voala!
I booked passage on Virgin Atlantic (a fantastic
airline) and arrived with three friends I met on the
plane. On the plane I tried to think what I would
like to do if I had a terminal illness. I’ve made my
list and am busy crossing things off.
So far I have made my first mountain climb
guided by a trustworthy and instructive guide named
David Vallet. He was still friendly after waiting an
hour for me to show… time change problems on my
part.
In any event, it was too windy to take the tram
to the top of Table Mountain (it was closed by the
forceful south-easterlies) so we walked, climbed,
abseiled and did it all over again. Apparently he
took us up a us grade 5.5 and 5.8 rockface. Thank
you RAVNA for all the tips and encouragement on the
rock wall in Norway, it came in handy. I’m hooked!
Next came the sharks. I got up a five in the
morning, drove until our bus broke down, finished
our journey via another bus, boarded our vessel and
skipped off three meter swells where we started
chumming the water (chumming is what is done to
scent the water with blood and attract out
man-eaters). The visibility was poor in the water
but we saw five different great white sharks. Yes, I
stayed in the cage the entire time when it was my
turn, and no I did not poke one in the DOLL’S EYE.
Next on the list is mountain biking, the worlds
tallest bungee jump (216 MEETERS!), getting my SCUBA
cert. and generating more lists! Much more to come
so check frequently.
November 19 – 21
What is it with Sundays? I awoke without plans
and nothing was open, so I had to invent some
trouble for myself. I teamed up with another
American Headley (from NYC) in search of mountain
bikes. Though the beautiful Fatima tried all of her
tourism spells to satisfy my adrenaline jones, no
biking, bungee nor safari. She did steer me to some
fantastic beaches (VERY COLD WATERS) and a public
pool equipped with springboards and a 5 meter
platform.
I was a hit at the public pool and even managed
to land a backward 1 ½ summersault with 1 ½ twists!
But since I haven’t dove in years I managed the real
crowd favorites, the sharp snapping sound of
fish-belly white skin slapping on water. In the
belly and back flop division, the crowd awarded me
all tens!
Sunday night united new friends for a braai
(South African BBQ). The late evening was reserved
for rugby match after rugby match. God, what a
country, what a sport!
I was due to start SCUBA school on Monday
morning but a cute new friend Tanya (a world
champion pole climber and all around Aussie
adventurer) had other plans for me. Monday Tanya,
the best Mountain Guide in South Africa David Vallet
(tel. 082.783.9453) and myself tackled table
mountain again, except in a much bolder fashion. I
climbed rockface I never seriously considered
feasible (grade 17 ascensions!).
This guy David pushed me perfectly to the very
edge of my comfort level but never beyond it.
Strange as it seems, I always felt safe. At one
point I found myself on this ledge (where the gods
gather to plot foul weather for below) and all I
could do was giggle. I knew I had no business being
up there and was really pissing off those who cared
for my safety, but it was so hysterical! I felt like
I just snuck into the principals office and got into
his candy drawer. I’ll never look onto mountains the
same way again, all I see now are hand-holds masked
as rock.
Tuesday was absolutely reserved for SCUBA school
since the school postponed class for my Monday
climb. But yet again the subversive hand of woman
with her enticing ways of influencing the simple
male mind changed all plans of schooling. While
waiting to be picked up for SCUBA school, Fatima
introduced me to my soon-to-be private tour guide
Colleen. Lord, please make me stronger next time.
Before I had anything to say about it, I was in
Colleens car with the alto-sax playing brit Alfie,
eating meat pies, drinking milk, jamming to Cool and
the Gang, driving towards the Indian Ocean and
scheming mis-adventures involving motorcycles,
bungee and SCUBA. Colleen educated me about all the
recent history of the healing South Africa from a
local’s perspective and fed my open mind full of
hope for our troubled world.
The smiling ivory teeth flashing from deep black
faces whisper prayers of hope. It was just the other
day when these black and coloured Africans were
disappearing if they disobeyed the white masters of
apartheid. Though not the safest country to travel
in by any stretch of the imagination, South Africa
places her energy on healing and reconciliation.
With 40% of the population unable to generate
income, AIDS and illiteracy running rampant, somehow
the energy to cultivate a peaceful society is
generated and cultivated. I know too little and my
power of vocabulary is too insufficient to express
what I see and feel here. But I do believe in the
triumph of the human spirit. It smiles at me daily
in my South Africa, and it welcomes me to play like
the child you all know I am. This time I’ll have the
photo’s to prove it!
November 22 – 24
I can’t remember when I did more activities that
those on the 22nd November. I awoke early and
wondered around Plettenberg Bay greeting sand and
smiling black faces with my camera.
The wonderful private tour guide Colleen then
shipped me off to Bloukrans Bridge, the largest
single span bridge in the world. This is the perfect
place to practice idiot tourism! So I made
arrangements to bungee jump off it. 216 meters makes
the drop the tallest commercially run bungee jump
operation. 200 plus meters deserves at least two
jumps… one forward and one “reverse elevator” style
(jumping backwards with attachments on the waist).
Was I scared? Well it did make me giggle.
Next I was rushed to play in the dirt with quad
bikes in Knysna. We were only supposed to do the
mountain course twice. But since we were going so
fast and finished early, Gevin (my guide) suggested
we risk a third tour as a sort of time trial. We
passed our time trial.
Driving back to town Gevin and the other driver
offered to stop anywhere along the way so my lens
could record the magnificent scenery. There was no
need I explained. I’d been hanging out the back of
our truck running my own photo shoot… more smiling
black faces!
Next I registered for my SCUBA class in Knysna
and collapsed on the ride home. Colleen did a
magnificent job… I was finally worn out.
Colleen (a fantastic tour guide and has rooms to
let in Plettenberg Bay) +27 721 93635
The 23rd November began with breakfast with Jo
and Colleen where I learned all about growing up
black in South Central South Africa. He invited me
to explore the village community he lived in three
years ago where I was given only a taste of how
those without structure and live out their lives.
|
|
 |
|
|
 |
Related pages
Cape Town; Knysna
|
In the afternoon I studied SCUBA, but to my
dismay, the high tides arrive after 6pm, making my
SCUBA classes impractical during my short stay. Not
all is lost as I can finish my lessons either in
Cape Town (Nah) or back in the States.
On the 24th November I headed back to
Cape Town, arriving with some friends I
picked up along the way on the City to City
bus. South Africa is a big country. Anyhow,
it’s fantastic energy, quite the contrast to
the southern bays. Cape Town is now
exploding as matriculation just hit and the
streets are packed with students looking for
a night on the piss. It was surprising
returning to the Carnival Court backpackers
and missing the friends I’d left behind. But
it feels like home in a bizarre way as once
again I find myself with familiar faces of
the staff here and am all but enmeshed with
a new pack of wolves. Home is where ever my
boots land. Happy Thanksgiving!
November 25 - 27
Saturday 25th November greeted me
without plans. Scared as I was from the last
unplanned day (not interested in another
bellyflop contest) everything tuned out. I
hired a 200 cc motorcycle from Luv Biking
(Peter +27 (0) 83 528 0897) and took a self
guided tour of Cape of Good Hope. I took a
break along the way for photos and the Cape
winds blew over my bike on the kick-stand
side! Those strong winds claimed my clutch
grip and I got excellent road side service.
Apparently Luv Biking is well versed in
handling tourist ingenuity and mishaps.
The baboons at Cape Point are rumored to
be very aggressive but my bafooning must
have disguised me as a regular baboon. I
could have used a simian grooming! From
there I headed back to Cape Town and
indulged in motorcycle photography. Upon
arrival I was numb from the massage a 200 cc
cycle delivers to its rider when driving 120
km/hr.
I met some friends of Bill W then
returned for a feast of Warthog ribs, yet
another party with my new friends at
Carnival Court Backpackers and tips for
filling my next day with activity.
Sunday 26th November broke bright and
early. I paid my morning visit to my friends
Bradley and Fassi at the Seattle Coffee Co.
November in Cape Town feels like June does
in the northern hemisphere, making surfing
the best option for filling a vacant Sunday.
Sheldon (+27 (0) 82 733 23317) picked me up
along with two traveling damsels and
delivered us to Muizenberg Bay. I drank
heaps of salt water, warmed my wet suit from
the inside… he he, and discovered I was a
natural on the surf board (thanks to
Sheldon’s assistance). I am proud to say I
caught five full rides on the Indian Ocean’s
best waves but was happily exhausted
fighting the surf between attempts.
My 200 cc cycle was a perfect companion
to the V&A waterfront, ate lunch and did a
little shopping. After returning my cycle
and taking a nap, I met more friends of Bill
W and returned for another Braai. My Malay
angel Fatima fired up her hooka with
flavored tobacco, showed me alternate ways
to play fooze-ball, beat my ass at pool
(thank you mam, may I have another), and
showed me how Cape Town lights Table
Mountain for Christmas (and Ramadan?) from
the great heights of the splendidly quaint
Malay Quarters. I am currently plotting ways
to sneak Fatima into my luggage when I
return to the UK on the 28th.
November 27th began with a little I Spy
drama. Ross (part of the US blotto clan we
assembled here at the backpackers) woke me
up to tell me Rob Webster never came home
last night after he was mugged of his wallet
and passport. I have my fingers crossed
hoping he’ll return soon with a tale of
coyote-ugly or something as embarrassing.
Drunken disappearances are well practiced
arts in the world of backpackers and are
almost always the result of beer-goggle
blessings. But with the loss of our friend
Uriel, I no longer enjoy the delusion of a
safe and peaceful world.
Rob waltzed into Carnival Court just
before noon with that look on his face. As I
called it, another coyote ugly tale.
Everyone’s fine if not a little embarrassed.
Welcome back Rob, nice expression, ARRR –
OOOH!
The Blatto Clan was united again so we
braved the “Scary” streets of Cape Town and
hired a car. Right hand driving was a blast,
it felt like the world was turned inside
out. I drove the debaucherous posse 15 miles
outside of Cape Town to the Tukai National
Forest for my next adventure. There was only
one mountain bike for rent but there was
only one me, so no trouble there. The
remaining three musketeers aired out their
hangovers at Cape Point while I tackled some
technical mountain biking trails. I’m not
sure what my bicycle helmet was protecting
but it came in handy more than once.
November 28 - 29
28th November arrived faster than I ever
hoped it would. My last day in South Africa
begged for a safari of sorts. The clan
sprung up from the dead at 5am and was
greeted by the wonderfully cheerful homeless
child affectionately referred to as street
rat. He was the one who tried to snatch
Rob’s wallet two nights prior and punched a
girl in the face when she tried to assist
Rob. He brazenly confronted us but somehow
escorted us unmolested.
We journeyed two and a half hours to
Aquila Private Reserve which promised us a
Big Five Safari. The currency in South
Africa is called the Rand and comes in
denominations of 10, 20, 50 and 100 and 200
Rand notes, each with a different picture of
big game. The “Big Five” are game that were
hunted in Africa and caused the most hunter
deaths as they were pursued. They consist of
the lion, elephant, buffalo, leopard and
black rhinoceros. The big five are among the
most dangerous mammals.
Our Big Five were very polite and
hospitable as the safari was more a petting
zoo than an adventure. That being said, the
food was delicious, the journey flavored
with local color and the company was spot
on, so it was an acceptable afternoon. I
would highly recommend other travelers to
make the trip to Kruger reserve if they have
the time.
Now it was time to make the journey
home. I was not expecting the feeling of
LEAVING home on the day I was to return
there. My friends at Carnival Court had
secretly adopted me and gave me an informal
going away gathering. When I arrived in Cape
Town all I knew was that I was hungry and
tired.
My friends Sunelle, Charel, Jacob,
Sheldon, Fatima, Colleen, David and the
other names destined to be misspelled made
sure I enjoyed one of the best adventures of
my life. In all my travels I have not met a
concierge service nor travel agency that
compared to the service and charm of these
Court Carnies. (Carnival
Court, Long Street 225, Cape Town 8001,
South Africa, Tel: +27 21 423 9003, e-mail:
info@carnivalcourt.co.za
)
I was safely delivered to the Airport by
Fatima, Rob and Ross, where I discovered the
adventure was not quite over...
I still had to collect a “Vast” bag
stowed with a friend in London, it’s
contents required for the bone chilling -11c
waiting for me upon my arrival. Master James
was on point and willing to assist me in any
way he could. Bravo! Hommie needed the help.
I was due to arrive at Heathrow at 9am and
fly State-side at noon. No big deal until
James pointed out I was leaving form
Gatwick. JOY!
Long story short, after getting some
local backup should I become stranded in
London (thank you Collin and your fantastic
companion who’s name escapes me… please
leave comment so I can correct her name
please), I was met by Ambassador James, vast
bag in hand. And was delivered to Gatwick
via bus with enough time to eat one last
meat pie!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
