Sometime around the eve of arriving in Cape Town a girl from one of my classes approached me, asking if I wanted to tour the peninsula with her on the fifth day. I had no plans and so agreed. Apparently her parents were originally supposed to meet her in Cape Town and were now unable to, but had done all of this research and found this tour guy. Sounded interesting. Why not?
She found one other person to join us and so the three of us waited in the dock area for our tour guide. I guess I was a bit surprised when an older white gentleman stepped out of the minivan. It hadn't occurred to me before, but all of the tour guides I had seen around had been black. Tour agencies prefer to use black people so that you feel like you are getting an "authentic" experience. It's all pretty messed up seeing as all the revenue goes right back to the wealthy white men at the end of the line. This guy was older, as I mentioned, with a balding head and his remaining hair flying around in an Einstein-esque frenzy. He spoke with a typical, whimsical South African accent, which if you have never heard one before, sounds something between and English and an Australian accent. I loved this guy from the start. He talked nonstop, but everything that came out of his mouth was fascinating and left you intrigued. He had personal stories to relate to everything, completely the opposite of the typical straight-from-a-textbook speech that most tour guides hand you in a dull monotone voice. He started out by handing us all maps, first of the world, then of Africa, then of South Africa, then of Cape Town, and then of the route around the peninsula we would be taking. Geography lessons are always so much more meaningful when you experience the place.
We drove along and our guide had no end of stories to tell. Most of them related to what we were driving by, but some of them were just awesome stories about his former card-counting days in Vegas. I kid you not. And then he told us about the intricate high-tech card shuffling machines that are used these days, and that so far they are impossible to beat, but there are people working on it. At that point we stopped on the side of the highway overlooking a housing development. He switched tangents completely to tell us the entire political and economic incentive behind such communities as the one's we were looking at. After apartheid ended, it didn't really end, black people just didn't have the financial means to bring themselves up to the same class as everyone else. And so the government came up with these housing communities, for these lesser privileged people, where the interest rate was a mere 3%. I am of course simplifying this immensely because my mind does not work in financial terms and I cannot recall all the details. There was also a rule that you had to stay in the house for fifteen years, or else be subjected to the original interest rates. This project worked out wonderfully and really did a lot to help out the black communities, but sadly the government lost interest and stopped developing these housing communities.
We drove past some really remarkable beaches. The plan was for our guide to drop us off at a water taxi, which we would take ahead to the next point, but when our guide phoned the water taxi guy, he had a long argument about how "you just don't take those kind of risks!" He finally hung up and explained to us that there was a small crack in the part of the boat where you drain the water out (that's the technical term) and it really wasn't a problem because while the boat is moving, it only takes in about two cups of water, and that is nothing. But our guide was upset because if anything else should go wrong with the boat and we were stationary out in the middle of the bay, the water would come in substantially more quickly. And swimming is not a nice option because of the Great White Sharks. So no water taxi.
Instead we stopped at a little beachside cafe and our guide warned us that he was about to turn us into addicts. He asked us if we preferred whiskey, Bailey's, coffee liquor, or hazelnut liquor, and ordered us what are called (if I remember correctly) Dom Pedros. What arrived was an alcoholic milkshake in a wine glass, and boy was it incredible! I've been dreaming about Dom Pedros ever since. I guess they lived up to the warning he gave us about becoming addicted to them. Next he ordered us tomato and cheese sandwiches, only because he wanted us to taste the bread. I cannot even describe this bread to you. It is rich, and dark, and whole grain, yet not dry in the least bit like many whole grain breads back home. It was such a welcome treat after the bread we are served on the ship, which is white 110% of the time.
Our next stop was a pie shop. We were going to order lunch, continue on our tour, and then go back to pick up lunch. We stopped in front of a little shop with yellow awnings called The Sweetest Thing Patisserie. Only we were not allowed to get out of the minivan at first. Our guide warned us that we had never had real pies, and were about to experience something new. He led us into the little shop and we were presented with a counter full of little meat-stuffed pastries, and another counter of sweets. We placed our orders and were on our way.
The next stop was a little beachside area that is famous because of Just Nuisance. Just Nuisance was a dog, and the mascot of the South African navy. There is a train that runs up and down the coast, and members of the navy ride for free, but animals are not allowed and so Just Nuisance was always getting kicked off. The navy was unhappy that their mascot was being kicked off the train and so you know what they did? They made him an official member of the navy. So as a member of the navy, he received all the same privileges as the navy, and rode the train for free, and when he died, he received the same ceremonial funeral that any human member of the navy would have received.
Our next destination was Boulder Beach. I don't know if you are familiar at all with South African wild life, but it includes penguins. If you know me at all, you will know that I have always loved penguins, and my main goal for South Africa was in fact, to see penguins. Boulder Beach is where the biggest colony in South Africa resides. On the way there our guide had more stories. Whenever there is an oil spill in the area, there is a penguin cleaning day. And whenever there is a penguin cleaning day, people line up for miles to get a chance to clean the penguins. Two people are grouped up together, one to hold the bird, and the other to hose it down and wash the oil off. It takes a good fifteen minutes and by the time it is over, you are completely exhausted because the birds put up such a fight. When you are done you have to drop the penguin into a tub of water. If he floats, then you've done your job. If he sinks, then you have to start all over again. A few years back there was a really bad oil spill, and when the penguin cleaning was finished, they couldn't allow the birds to get back into the water because they would just get covered in oil again. So what they did was they transported the penguin colony over to Port Elizabeth, which is on the eastern coast of South Africa. The penguins swam home in roughly 13 days, by which time the oil spill was cleaned up. That story inspired a children's book, called Fredrick the Penguin, which I meant to look for but completely forgot.
There is another story about the penguins that our guide told us. The penguins that are found in South Africa are the African Jackass Penguins. But apparently just in the past couple years the term "Jackass" was deemed to be politically incorrect, and so they were legally renamed, simply, the African Penguin.
Boulder Beach was everything I expected and more. I can say that my life is complete. I have seen penguins in the wild. They are just such funny little creatures in their little tuxedos, waddling around in the comical manner that they do.
After we had visited the penguins we returned to the pie shop, picked up our lunch, and drove to what our guide referred to as "The Best Restaurant in The World." The Best Restaurant in the World turned out to be a spot on the top of a cliff overlooking the rocky beach below. It was becoming quite stormy at this point, and so the cliffs and the beach gave off this English countryside air. The pies were every bit as scrumptious as our guide had made them out to be. I ordered a blue cheese and leek quiche pie for lunch, and then a passion fruit tart for dessert. My mouth is watering just thinking about them.
We continued on our way to Cape Point. Cape Point claims to be the spot where the Atlantic and Indian Oceans meet. But there is another point, slightly farther east that claims the same thing. Several years ago there was a lawsuit between these two points, as to which the Indian and Atlantic Oceans meet at. The final consensus was that these two oceans do not meet. End of Story.
The road began to wind as the terrain became hilly. Up ahead we saw cars pulled over onto the side of the road and it was soon apparent why. Baboons! Just sitting there on the side of the road. Our guide let us get out to take a couple pictures after pointing out the alpha and warning us to stay away from him. Such funny creatures.
There is a hike to reach the top of the cliff that is Cape Point but being on a time schedule, our guide bought us tickets for the little cable car instead. Once at the top, we followed the paths, and just as we were about to round the last corner, he stopped us, forced the three of us to close our eyes, and led us around the corner to the final spot. When we were all lined up along a ledge of sorts, he told us to open our eyes. Such a view! And we made it just in the nick of time because the storm clouds and fog continued to roll in and a moment later we couldn't see a meter in front of our faces.
As we wound our way back along the road we found an entire camp of baboons walking straight at us. Many of them carried babies which was really adorable to see. The baboons passed and we continued to look out the window and onto the hillside and what should we find there but ostriches. I will say this yet again: such funny, strange creatures! I know you've all seen pictures, and been to the zoo, but when you actually see these things in the wild you are just overcome with a sense of ... I don't even know the word for it. They are just so strange. I mean they are these gigantic flightless birds with these massive fluffy feathers and long skinny necks topped off with a pinhead. Such bizarre creatures.
We made our way to the Cape of Good Hope, the most south-western point of the African continent. As we all learned in grade school, during the great age of exploration, when everyone was trying to find the quickest route to the east, the passage around the southern tip of Africa proved to be extremely treacherous, and many ships were lost. Of course, you couldn't go telling sailors that there was a very good chance that they would perish as they rounded this stormy cape, so they named it the Cape of Good Hope to brighten everyone's spirits. There is a sign there, both in English and in Afrikaans, that says "Cape of Good Hope, the most south-western point of the African continent." And of course we all took pictures there because that's what we do.
The plan was to make our way back to Cape Town and take the cable car up to the top of Table Mountain from here. By the time we found our way back though, it was still incredibly cloudy, with no hope of visibility from the top, and so our guide took us for a drive up a different mountain instead. As we drove, he pointed out different townships along the side of the street, many of which don't even have electricity. What was really a shock was when we passed the last township before the mountain, crossed the mountain pass, and directly on the other side of this mountain is the wealthiest housing area in all of Cape Town. Literally nothing but a small mountain pass separates unbelievable wealth from absolute destitution.
On the way back to the waterfront we stopped at a gas station. Our guide ran into the little store and came back out with three small paper bags and handed one to each of us. Inside were samosas, and the best samosas you've ever tasted.
And so ended our tour with the best guide I could have ever imagined.
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