We have now been in Cape Town for 5 days. We've taken a hop-on hop-off bus tour, we've been to the Old Biscuit Mill, we've seen penguins, we've seen ostriches, we've been to the Cape of Good Hope, and I've driven on the left-hand side of the road without incident. We also have plans to go to Robben Island (both of us), paragliding (possibly both of us), hiking Table Mountain (one of us), diving with sharks (one of us), and going to the aquarium (both of us).
But one thing at a time.
The first full day we were here we went to the Old Biscuit Mill, which is like Eastern Market on steroids. It's similar to Eastern Market in the sense that it has arts and crafts-y stores and some clothing for sale and theoretically it's all independent and wholesome and cruelty-free and free-range and cancer-curing and all those other tricks that entice you to buy things. The way that it blows Eastern Market out of the water, not to mention any other farmer's market-type place I've ever seen, is the food.
There are a couple enormous tents devoted solely to food. The pictures I tweeted of a super thin pizza and a mushroom kebab were from this place, this small slice of heaven. There is Italian, Greek, omelets, veggies, barbecue, paella, beer, wine, dried fruits, olives, frozen yogurt, ice cream, baked goods galore, sandwiches of every kind, fresh fish, smoked fish, breads, potstickers, cheese, chocolate, smoothies, mojitos, mushrooms, jams and jellies, a raw bar, and even New York-style bagels. That's just what I can remember without thinking too hard about it. And everything is freshly made. I know this for a fact because a) you can watch most of it being made right in front of you if you're ordering a meal, and b) all the vendors have samples and I have opposable thumbs and a gullet.
The smells were amazing. I walked through in a daze before buying a local beer to help me begin to make decisions. I started with the grilled mushroom kebab, then split an arugula and prosciutto pizza with Mom. And a couple more beers. We are going back there this Saturday so that I can eat my way through the place. I was not properly prepared the first time around (I had eaten a large breakfast).
A quick word on food. Food here is remarkably cheap. I was told this on the front-end but didn't appreciate just how true it is. Cabs from the airport cost $40 but a smoked salmon omelet and a salad with a side of toast and jam and butter and a double espresso runs about $5. A glass of South African wine can be had for as little as $2 or so. Large avocados at the store are a dollar. I don't understand it but it turns out there are some things I simply don't need to understand.
Later that day (Saturday) we checked into our "self-catering" (which is an Afrikaans word for "dumpy") apartment, our home for six nights. It's in an area called Sea Point, which is allegedly the Jewish neighborhood but all we've seen here is halal eateries and Asian massage parlors. No matter. It's lively just enough at night, the cabs know where it is, and our apartment is a block from the water.
Sunday the hop-on hop-off took us around the city; pretty standard stuff. Castle here, World Cup stadium there, history of Apartheid oppression in that neighborhood, the beautiful people hang out at this beach here, etc. Good for getting the lay of the land and a little sunburnt. I'm always a little underwhelmed by these bus tours but also am always glad when I do them. They give you a little insight into how exactly the city you're in is laid out, which neighborhoods are worth returning to and which aren't worth the time. I should go on one in DC to see what a tourist hears from the authoritative bus voiceover.
Yesterday we took care of business: made hotel arrangements for the remainder of our stay after we're out of the current place, set up a car rental for today, and drank a lot of coffee. Productive if nothing else.
Today was the foray into driving. Mom and I agreed right away that I would drive and she would navigate. As a reminder, they drive on the left here in South Africa, which is the side I have never driven on before (intentionally). Also, the turn signal lever and the windshield wiper lever are swapped. Luckily the gas and brake are in the same place.
When we got into the car I made one small request.
"Just, before, you know, we get going here, ah, you know what would be helpful?" I asked cautiously.
"What?"
"Any sort of alarmed noises or frightened sounds coming from the passenger's seat," I suggested. "Those in fact do nothing but cause badness and harm."
"Oh yeah, I know. I'll try. I actually trust you a lot more to stay on the left than I do myself," she said, tightening her seat belt and finding a comfortable position for her hand on the oh-shit bar.
I nodded, flipped on the windshield wiper to indicate I was turning, and off we went.
We drove down to Boulders Beach and Foxy Beach, two beaches in a place called Simon's Town well-known for being places where penguins hang out.
As it turns out, that's pretty much all penguins do. They sit on the beach. They're kind of like the lions I described, only fatter, shinier, and much less graceful. They either sit in the sand camouflaged as globs of fat with beaks or they stand with their beaks pointed up into the air. Sometimes two of them will stand with their beaks pointed up into the air at each other, like swords on a coat of arms. And then they just stand. If the wind blows, they teeter. If they've gotten too hot or too cold or too teeter-tottery, they waddle, often falling flat on their face as they do, to a new spot to restart their activity of choice.
At one point I heard an over-enthusiastic dad tell his kid that penguins are "naturally curious" so don't be surprised if one "comes over to say hello." Nice try, over-enthusiastic dad. I've seen tumbleweeds with more natural curiosity than I saw in any of these penguins. That all being said, their general docility made them great photo subjects. That is until I got a picture of one standing and a picture of another one sitting, more or less exhausting the gamut of penguin activity.
On our way back to Cape Town we passed an ostrich farm, so we pulled over to have a look. The ostriches were separated into their own areas of farm, with quite a bit of room to run or sit or attempt to fly or rub two brain cells together or whatever it is ostriches do. As far as I can tell from the 10 minutes we spent there they spend their time trying to position themselves so they look like question marks and holding very disapproving facial expressions. And we saw one rolling around in the dirt.
In between the visits with flightless birds, we went to Cape Point, which is the southwestern southernmost tip of Africa (follow all that?). It's right around the corner from the Cape of Good Hope, which you've probably heard of. They're in the same huge national park which by the looks of it is at the end of the earth.
The thing to do at Cape Point is walk up the hill (or take the funicular, which didn't sound very "fun" to me, har har!) to a lighthouse at the highest point of the, uh, Point. Fantastic views.
I will actually do some more reflecting on this part of the journey later as it currently has become dinnertime. Tomorrow is Robben Island.
No comments:
Post a Comment