Author: Rudy

Retired. Content. Living the good life. Listening to music. Watching movies. Computing. Golfing. Cycling. Mowing the lawn. Planning my next adventure.

Over berg and dale

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After another fine breakfast at the Lavender Manor Lodge we got ourselves ready for a hike up the ‘Overberg’ mountains just up the street from us. Paul and Shirley had offered to lead us up to the top — Robert and Arlene decided they would not go up today and rather wait until Arlene was feeling a bit better. We also wondered if we should go — it was very misty outside, the top of the mountain was shrouded in dark grey clouds, and there was a bit of rain on and off. Maybe the trail would be too wet? So we sent a text to the Martenses — no, they were ready to go!

We set off up the road at 9:30. The road leads up to the base of the mountain and from there we took a short turn and then followed the path as it ‘zig-zagged’ up to the top. The mist was cool and a bit uncomfortable — we were soon sopping wet, water dripping down our faces and shirts soaked right through — but this was still a lot more comfortable than a super hot day!

The fynbos vegetation was lush and green. We visited all the way up, so the actual climb was probably less challenging than what we had imagined — but TALKING and hiking at the same time does present some extra difficulties. Not to be deterred, I just kept yapping away for most of the morning hike.

We got to the pole at the top of one of the craggy hills — time for a photo before turning around and heading back. It actually cleared up a little as we made our way down, but by the time we dropped off Paul and Shirley at their house and got back to our B&B it was raining again. So we had to take off our shoes and tip-toe up to our room and get showered and changed. We hung our wet clothes on the adirondack chairs on our rooftop patio and hoped the sun would come out sometime later today so things would dry out.

In the meantime, Robert and Arlene had put on their raincoats and walked the cliff walk all the way to town. Now we got a text asking if we’d like to join them. It was still raining and I figured they would probably want a ride back. So as soon as we’d showered we hopped into the car and drove to the point. We found the Dycks sitting at the Auberge Burgundy restaurant. They were waiting for us.

Sue and I shared a plate of calamari. The rain seemed to have stopped, but it looked like it might fall again any minute. We all got into the car for the ride back to our B&B. Back at the room, Sue had a bit of a nap. I worked on my Namibia desert photos — selecting and uploading them to my journal entrees from a few days ago. I had a LOT of photos, but managed to whittle things down to a more manageable size. (You can check out my photos here — Kulala Day 1 and here — Kulala Day 2).

Soon it was time for happy hour up in the lounge. Then we got our jackets and headed out, down our street to “The Grotto Beach”. We found our restaurant, “Dutchies”, and got a table for four inside. We ordered. The girls had kingclip, a local fish, and thought it was very tasty.

After dinner we walked back up the hill to our hotel. I got a text from Paul and Shirley — we’re all set for a ‘wine-tasting’ excursion, leaving from their house at 10:30 tomorrow morning. Yes!

Hermanus ‘cliff walk’

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Breakfast at the Lavender Lodge is great: bacon and sausages and eggs any style and toast and fruit and coffee, etc. It’s going to be a week of Saturdays for the Nikkels.

After breakfast we went on our first ‘cliff walk’. Robert joined us, Arlene stayed in bed to try to sleep away her stomach problems. Our first stop was at a little ‘OK convenience store’ not far from our place, where I ‘topped up’ my phone card — so now I’m good for another month. We went back across the street and headed for the cliff walk along the ocean. We walked for 3 or 4 kms until Robert thought he’d better go back and check on Arlene. Sue and I continued. The walk was mostly paved or cemented path in and amongst the rocks on the shoreline, sometimes weaving a little farther away from the shoreline, back through the fynbos that grows in the wild here.

At one point we headed back to the main road for a short stretch, but soon we were back down along the shoreline. After just over 6kms we were near the end of our walk — and we’d arrived at what we believe is the very apartment block where we stayed in December of 2001, and from where we’d watched the big Southern Right whales playing

Marine Court apartments
Marine Court — we rented an apartment here when we stayed in Hermanus in 2001

in the bay with their calves.  I took a picture of the apartment building, for “old time’s sake”.

We walked around the little markets in this part of the city and finally we sat down under one of the big umbrellas at an outside ‘food court’ and had lunch: Hake and fries and a draught and a cappuccino. We did a bit of scouting around after lunch, even checking in with a real estate office to see how /what are the opportunities for us to perhaps rent a furnished apartment for 3 months here next winter — just checking.

After that we started on our walk back to our place. It took about an hour and a half to get back home, but once we did we made ourselves comfortable out on our balcony (over looking our parking lot, but looking out to the big mountain behind our place. Robert came up and joined us for happy hour.

After drinks and a quick shower it was time for supper. I’d called Lizette’s Kitchen to reserve a table for four for 7:00. We took the car the 10 blocks down our road and parked in the parking lot. We got a table — and a good thing that we’d reserved because the restaurant appeared to be fully booked. We had just put in our food order when Sue noticed Paul and Shirley getting off their little Vespa motorcycle outside. Ho, ho!

They join us, and the six of us move to a smaller room in the back of the restaurant for dinner. Paul and Shirley have brought 3 ‘new’ bottles of wine with them — this is a ‘tasting’ evening — they are making some decisions regarding what kinds of wine they will want to export to Manitoba — that is the business they are in. And tonight we will get to help them ‘choose’!

We share a lovely evening with them — and their wine. When, at around 10:00, we get up and say goodbye, we’ve arranged to run up a trail on the mountain behind our place together with them tomorrow after breakfast. And we’ll be going on a wine tour of some of the wineries they deal with on the day after tomorrow. This will be fun!

We all squeeze back into our Volvo 2-door and head back to our house, 10 blocks back up along 10th Street. I park the car and soon we’re joined by Robert and Arlene back on our patio. The evening is cool, but very comfortable. We can hear the crashing of the waves, and sometimes catch a whiff of the salty sea from our place up here, too.

By eleven the Dycks have said goodnight, and it’s Rudy and Sue alone in our first floor hotel room. We have a small old-style Sony TV — we watch a bit of CNN. I write in my journal and Sue reads her iPad until we are both tired and ready for bed. The cool breeze is blowing through the slatted shutters of our ‘patio door’. Let’s hope it’s a good day weather-wise tomorrow — I’m looking forward to climbing that big mountain.

Windhoek to Cape Town to Hermanus

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Just after midnight the power went off at our hotel, the House on Olof Palme, in Windhoek. In fact, the power went off in the entire surrounding neighbourhood. We woke up a couple of times during the night and the power was off all night. That meant no air-conditioning. That meant that when our 5:00am alarms went off, we were completely in the dark. Luckily Sue had packed our suitcase the evening before.

The woman of the hotel was up — and boiling water on her gas stove in order for us to have a cup of coffee before we left. I felt a bit sorry for her — this was beyond her control, happened relatively infrequently (according to her), and made her a little worried for her own security. Her husband was out of town on one of his regular ‘game-hunting’ trips; the rows of electric fencing around the top of the 7-foot wall surrounding her place was now dead — and although she had TOLD us there was not a lot of crime in Windhoek, you could sense that she was worried also for her safety.

Air Namibia aircraftWe backed the truck out of its parking stall in the dark and headed toward the airport. By the time we got to the filling station next to the airport and topped up the diesel in our tank, the morning sun was already warming up the day. We checked in. Customs again. We had plenty of time to sit in the big airport and have a coffee. While I was in the washroom the power went out. Total darkness. Lots of comments about this being the ‘worst airport in the world’. Finally the backup generator kicked in.

The flight back was good — hot breakfast, some black dude causing a big disturbance a few rows back, a bit of turbulence just before we landed in Cape Town. We disembark. Queue up for the passport control again. Pick up our luggage and walk out. I used my phone app to get an Uber taxi. “Head for Meeting Point #3.” I could see the little car icon on my phone driving around the loops, right near where the arrow showed we were. No car. Could not connect. Cancel taxi. Try again. Same, same. Other passengers around us walking around staring at the Uber app on their phones, then up at the signage, then around at the cars, then back to their phones. This is not working. Cancel again. This is pissing me off. I’m sure I’m getting charged for each of these cancellations. We walked back to main lobby and the first guy we see we order a taxi. He contacts James, a cab driver, and soon our stuff is in the trunk of the car and we are heading back into Cape Town to our apartment. The meter ticks along as James wants to make friendly. Don’t we want to hire him to drive us all the way to Hermanus (an hour and a half ride)? Much cheaper and better than having our own car. Bla, bla, bla… and the meter is ticking along at nearly DOUBLE what it should be! When we get to our apartment we scold him properly, and pay him 50% more than what it should have been.

Now we get a couple of sandwiches from Giovanni’s and have lunch in our apartment. Re-pack a bit and load up the small trunk of our Volvo. Robert and Arlene squeeze into the back seat of our 2-door, holding packs on their laps, and we’re off.

Happy hour in HermanusThe drive to Hermanus is amazing! WAY nicer than Sue or I recall. After we’ve passed all the shanty-towns that line the road from the suburbs of Cape Town to the airport, we pass through green fields, orchards and vineyards, over a mountain pass, past a golf course, through some beach towns, and finally end up in Hermanus. Our B&B is just a few blocks DOWN (closer to the beach) from Paul and Shirley’s house. We park the car, empty the trunk, register, get our rooms. Reconvene upstairs at the bar on a large balcony that gives us a clear view of the miles of white sand beaches just below us, and the green fynbos growing on the mountainside behind our place. Spectacular! Beer and wine is available on the ‘honour’ system here — take what you want, mark it down, pay for it later.

Back in our room Sue has a little nap. I finagle with my devices, trying to get everything plugged in with my various adapters and then fighting with a weak wifi signal. We Skype with our kids — doing our best to catch bits of what they are saying and looking at pixelated jerky images of them on our screen. Oh well, maybe tomorrow when we switch to an upstairs room we’ll have a stronger signal.

Paul & Shirley's yardAt quarter to seven we are all dressed up and heading up the street to Paul and Shirley’s for dinner. They greet us outside when they see us coming. For Robert and Arlene this is a visit to a former ‘home’ — they’ve stayed at this house for a couple of weeks twice before, about 8 years ago. We get a quick tour of the house and the yard — it is LOVELY. Paul has a wood fire going on his large braai outside, Shirley is making a salad in the big kitchen. We drink wines Paul has selected from his large wine cellar. After a short while we are joined by Meghan and Casper, friends of the Martens’s whom Robert and Arlene met and got to know on their previous visits here.

After an hour of barbecued ‘wurst‘ and drinks we go inside and are seated at the large wooden dining table. Potatoes, salad, chicken, steak — all done just right and so delicious. And we talk. Later we have dishes of assorted ice creams, followed by plates of cheese and crackers. It is a lovely evening and a lovely visit.

It’s after eleven when we say goodbye. We’ve sort of arranged to meet again, maybe do a wine tour with Paul and Shirley. The four of us walk down the street in the quiet darkness, back to our Lavender Manor Lodge. Tired. Windhoek to Cape Town to Hermanus. It’s been a LONG (we’ve been up since five!) but very enjoyable day.

Back to Windhoek

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A leisurely start to the morning. We both had slept at least nine hours by the time we got out of bed at 7:00. Eggs, bacon, toast and coffee for breakfast. Then we threw our luggage back into our very dusty truck box and began our five-and-a-half hour ride on bumpy gravel roads back to Windhoek.

Robert drove the first half of the trip. We again stopped at the service centre in Solitaire, although this time we filled up the truck with diesel and bought a few snacks for on the road. Arlene still hadn’t quite come to terms with the vegetable wrap from our visit here a couple of days ago.

At times the road seemed less bumpy now that it had on our trip down. But not always. We again saw quite a few wild animals along the way: ostriches, baboons, kudus, zebras, oryxes, Impala, and lots of big “sociable weaver” nests. There were a few more vehicles on the road, but for most of the trip it felt like we were out in the middle of nowhere all by ourselves.

We pulled into Windhoek at around 2. Back to our “House on Olof Palme” B&B. Parked the truck and checked in. Had a refreshing “Windhoek” beer and a little nap.

We ordered in pizza and ate it in the dining hall. We needed to check out early to catch our flight back to Cape Town tomorrow so we paid our tab and arranged for a morning coffee.

Back in our room we tried to watch a bit of CNN (yeah, they get that here!), but we soon tired of that same-old, same-old news cycle. How about some cricket? Meh! The wireless had more or less petered out in our room, so Sue read and I one-finger-typed my journal entry. Early to rise? Early to bed.

Kulala Lodge – Day 2

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dune-panorama
The knock at our door came at 5:15am. “Good Morning! Here’s your hot water.” We got up and got dressed. Sue made some instant coffee. We went to the dining tent for breakfast. Our driver and guide, Mike, introduced us to Boo and Oliver, from Wales. They would be joining us on this adventure. At 6:15 we were in our 9-passenger Land Rover “paddy-wagon” and bouncing our way on the trail to the world’s third largest national park.

IMG_2156After passing through the park gates we were on a ‘tar’ road for the next 45 minutes. Mike pulled over every once in a while and gave us a little educational talk about rocks and animals and wind and rivers. Rivers? Not here! Not anymore. In the meantime quite a few paddy-wagons full of dune walkers were zipping by us. Oliver finally asked if it wouldn’t make more sense for us to go to the dune NOW while it was still not so hot (that IS why we got up so early,after all). Yes, okay.

This “dune” thing has become such a phenomenon, such a tourist attraction, that the dunes actually have names. Dune 45, Dune 47, Big Momma, Big Daddy, etc. We passed Dune 45 where there was already a long line of trekkers filing up the spine. No, we’re not going there; that is too easy, too gradual and not high enough. Our big ‘bus’ smooshed its way through some deep soft sand and finally parked under the shade of some dusty old trees near Big Daddy. At 359 meters it was positively monstrous compared to Dune 45’s 60 meters. We’ll hike up that one. Yeah, we’re tough.

And so we begin. It’s like walking on a very soft beach with deep sand where your feet sink in with every step–only uphill and along the crest of that hill. Your left foot takes a step, sinks a bit, right foot steps, it slides deeper — so you try to stay right up on the crest as best you can. And the first 100 yards are the steepest. But after that it’s not so bad. And the temperature is fine, maybe even a bit cool at the start.

We go along, single file. Soon Boo, Sue, and I have gone ahead of the rest of our group, although we can hear Robert and Oliver talking as they climb along behind us. We pass a few groups until we are making fresh tracks, ‘breaking trail’, onward and upward. Occasionally we stop and then Sue gets a sense of vertigo and it’s a bit tricky to get going again. But the view is grand, and it’s actually fun, not as difficult as I had mentally prepared myself for.

We get up to a height of about 120 meters and it’s time to decide if we continue on (it looks like the rest of the hike will be steep all the way to the top), or we stop here and “walk” our way down the smooth side of the dune. It’s around 10:00 and the morning sun is now switching to “bake” mode. We’re not stupid. We’ll go down here.

mud-closeupWhen we get to the bottom we are on the dry bed of a former lake. Now the ground is a pattern of gray shiny crinkly tiles. There are tree-sticks, old dried-out black acacia trees, slowly dying where they once used their 35-meter-deep roots to survive in this harsh environment. We take photos of the gray layer of sand, in front of another big orange dune, and a blazing blue sky with a few wispy clouds overhead. THIS is the Namibian poster shot. Ever since Paul Martens gave Sue one of his fine “dune” photographs around 25 years ago, we’ve wanted to visit this place and see it for ourselves. THIS is what we came here for.

dune with sue and rudyWe get back to the bus and have a cold drink. One or two more stops at other dune sites, and then we’re on the way back to the lodge.

Sue had a refreshing swim in the very cold water of the pool. We showered and headed to the mess hall for lunch. Vegetarian lasagna or pork schnitzel? Not bad.

Siesta after lunch. It’s about 40 degrees and WAY too hot to do anything. I didn’t think we’d be able to sleep but we did.

We went back to the main lodge for “afternoon tea” at 4:30. It’ll cool off soon.

Supper was at 7:30. The sun was just setting behind the hills in the distance. Tonight there was a buffet dinner. Tomato soup, potatoes, cauliflower in sauce, and a choice of lamb and beef steak. Not our best meal–the meat was too rare and too tough, but we’ve eaten far too much anyway. We’re not going to bed hungry.

We sat around the table and visited until we were the last ones in the dining hall. Another glass of wine? We went to our rooms at 10:00. Sue washed a couple of my shirts — hopefully they’ll dry by morning.

Kulala Lodge – Day 1

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I’m writing this while lying in bed in my tent in the middle of the Namibian desert. Mosquito netting around the bed, fan whirling overhead.

We had a lovely omelet (cheese, mushroom, tomato, bacon) for breakfast at the House on Olof Palme hotel in Windhoek. I managed to connect my iPhone to the USB port in our Ford Ranger truck before we headed out for our long journey out to the Kulala Lodge in the desert at Sossusvlei. That seemed to work very well, even providing us with music from my iTunes music library along the way. We missed a turnoff as we exited the city, but google maps led us back to the correct road in no time. We were expecting pretty good roads for most of our trip, but had been warned that the last few kilometers would require our “four-wheel-drive” option. So we were a little surprised when we found ourselves on gravel roads almost the minute we left the city. But that’s how it was today — gravel roads all the way. Five and a half, or maybe even closer to six hours of bouncing and jouncing our way on desolate gravel roads across what turns out to be a VERY large country!

I drove for the first section. The drive was actually not at all bad because the terrain and the scenery was so very interesting. We saw lots of baboons and kudos and other wild animals along the way. We went over a couple of winding mountain passes too. And we saw only a very few other vehicles on our road — and while that made cruising along at 100kms/hr okay, it also made you wonder what we would do in case of a breakdown.

We finally got to a service center and lunch break at around 1:30. At a corner named “Solitaire” there were gas pumps (we’ll wait to fill up our diesel truck on the return trip) and a small bakery. Freshly-baked desserts and drinks and we were refreshed enough to continue our cross-country bouncing.

We were getting close — our GPS was telling us that we were only 200 meters from our destination– but when we drove through the gates of what we thought was “our place” the security guard informed us that it was another 30kms to the Kalala resort. The final 20kms were indeed a bit rougher as we followed a single lane, lined on either side of the road by sharp rocks that had been painstakingly laid to act as a curb.

And then we arrived. Two people came out to meet us in our truck, offering wet towels and a glass of ginger beer as a welcome. We parked our truck and took our very dusty suitcases out of the truck box. We were led into the reception area and “Stella” introduced herself and gave us a little introductory talk. Then we were shown to our lodges. Very cool. Well actually, it was still very hot outside. But the lodges were ridiculously well-appointed for where we were in such a remote part of the world.

Soon we were back in the main building, enjoying a cool draft beer and looking out at the red dunes in the distance. After a short afternoon nap and a refreshing shower we were back in the lounge for a sundowner gin and tonic and a visit with one of the managers. Our guide for tomorrow morning’s early excursion to the sand dunes also came by to introduce himself to us.

Dinner was excellent. Although a chicken dish was also an option, all four of us opted for the “game steak” (kudu) dish. Starter, main course, wine, dessert and coffee. All very good–as was the conversation around the dinner table.

By ten o’clock we were all back in our cabins, getting ready for an early wake up tomorrow morning. I took half an hour to write my journal even though I’d have to wait for a better internet connection to post it. And then, lights out.

Leaving Cape Town

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Woke up. Oh yeah, we’re leaving for Namibia today. Breakfast. Check our devices — Donald Trump is still winning (New Hampshire primary) and Bernie Sanders beat Hillary. We watched a bit of ‘news’ (Colbert Report?) on our AppleTV. Sue did one last load of laundry and was putzkying around, tidying up and packing. We’ll leave most of our stuff in the apartment and only take a small suitcase with us for our 4-day excursion to Namibia. I went to the ATM to get some more cash. Robert and Arlene came by with their luggage — they’ll leave half their stuff here too — we’ll come back on Sunday and re-pack for our week in Hermanus.

Robert and I went around the corner to Giovanni’s to get a bit more lunch supplies (our fridge is nearly empty, as it should be) and we had one last ‘home-made’ lunch around our table. After lunch we finished packing and closing up our place until it was time to call Uber and take the taxi to the airport.

The flight to Windhoek took 2 hours —  a nice ride in a big Airbus jet. A big beautiful airport but hardly anybody there.  We had a little wait to get through customs and then to the car rental desk where they were waiting for us.

Renting our Ford RangerWe got the big white four-door four-wheel-drive Ford truck for our trip. Arlene bought a Namibian Sim card for my phone so we’ll have data for the next week for the GPS. Then a 45-minute ride to the House of Olof Palme hotel in Windhoek. The sun was setting ahead of us and the pink and orange sky with the silhouette of the occasional African tree was beautiful.

Driving to WindhoekWe finally found our way to our hotel and the lady at the desk let us into the gated parking compound. We checked in, then gathered at a table beside the small swimming pool and had a nightcap.

Tomorrow is an early start — breakfast at 7:30 and on the road by 8:30.  We have a five-hour (or longer) drive to the sand dunes.

Baby, it’s hot outside

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We slept in this morning. Today it was really too hot to venture out at all. Sue did a load of laundry this morning. Robert and Arlene came over for lunch. We visited in the afternoon until around 3:30 when they went back to their place. We Skyped with my parents and Facetimed with our kids. Shower and change. At 6:30 the Dycks came by and we all walked through Green Point Park on our way to The Hussar Grill in Mouille Point. We had 7 o’clock reservations. The restaurant was busy and after we got our meals we understood why — great food, great service, a great experience. At 9:30 we walked back, not through the park — the gates were now locked — but we found our way back nonetheless. We said goodnight — tomorrow is our last day in Cape Town for a while — and went back to our apartment. Wrote my journal, caught up on the news online, listened to a bit of music on my ipod, and then off to bed.

If it’s Super Bowl Sunday then it’s Monday morning in South Africa!

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I woke up, looked at the alarm clock. It’s still dark outside. The clock says 4:20am. Hey, I bet the Super Bowl is still on! So I got up and headed into the living room. It took me a few minutes to find a live stream of the game, and a few more minutes to get rid of a couple of large popup banner ads that hid most of the screen, but I managed. What? The Broncos are ahead 16-7? How much time is left? Five minutes left in the third quarter. Well, that’s still plenty of time for the Panthers to make a comeback.

But not against this Denver defense. When it was all said-and-done, the Peyton Manning and the Broncos won Super Bowl 50 by a final score of 24-10. I’m okay with that. I didn’t see the commercials because the ESPN channel I got was from some Spanish station where the game announcers spoke English, but the commercial breaks just showed a street scene in San Fransisco and two Spanish announcers yacked away, waiting for the game to resume.

I managed to find another feed for some of the post-game ceremony and celebrations, but by then it was getting bright outside here, and the morning rush hour was starting. Sue got up and I made coffee. We had breakfast. Sue announced that it would be a ‘hot one’ today. I called the Metropolitan Golf Course and made tee times for our last five Mondays here, to the end of March. Monday is half-price (and busy) at the Met.

After breakfast the Dycks came by and the four of us struck out for today’s activity: a drive around Cape Town on the top deck of a big red double-decker bus. We bought tickets and boarded the bus at next to the Aquarium at the Waterfront. We plugged our little orange earphones into the panels next to our seats and listened as the audio described what we were seeing. It was interesting to learn that much of the ‘prime’ area in the front of the ‘city bowl’ (where we spend most of our time) was actually underwater until the 1930s when they dredged the bay and built the harbour. That is why the street BEHIND our apartment is named ‘Strand’ street — ‘strand’ means ‘beach’ in Afrikaans, and that is where the beach used to be!

Morning coffee break
Morning coffee break

The bus tour had about a dozen stops where passengers could get on or off anytime. We got off on the 5th stop, right downtown, near the Greenmarket. It was quite hot sitting up there in the bus with the sun beating down on us — time for a morning refreshment.

We walked from that stop to the next, stopping to wander through the Company Gardens along the way.

We eventually ended up on Bree Street and got a table at the Bacon cafe. Lunch stop. Always a highlight. (And as you know, ‘bacon’ makes everything better!)

Then back on the bus. Now it was much too hot to sit on the top deck. The route took us up to where the cable car rides to the top of Table Mountain begin. All four of us had already experienced that ride on previous visits to South Africa and were okay with not going up there today. But we had a 15 minute stop for photos.

Panorama of Cape Town from Table Mountain
Panorama of Cape Town from Table Mountain. Lion’s Head on the left, Devil’s Peak on the right, and the ‘city bowl’ looking out to the Atlantic.

The bus ride took us over the ‘shoulder’ of Table Mountain and back down to the coast, through a couple of small ‘suburbs’ of Cape Town: Camps Bay, Clifton, Bantry Bay, and back to Green Point. We got off the bus at ‘our’ lighthouse and walked through the park back to our place. Pitstops at Ultra Liquors and The Butcher Man to pick up supplies for our supper. Then off to our respective homes.

We had a short FaceTime with Alex and Max. We showered and cleaned up a bit. Robert and Arlene came by for happy hour at 5:30. We visited until 7:30 when it was time to barbecue our chicken skewers. Arlene made a salad and Sue made mushroom-filled tortellini. We talked some more. We pretty-much talked about everyone and everything we could think of! By around 10 o’clock we were plum-tuckered out — all that adventure, all that sun, all that beauty, all that talking…

Sue cut up a mango, a pineapple, and some chocolate for our ‘night snack’. A little glass of port to go with it. And then we said goodnight.

A Trip to Robben Island

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Kodak photo with R&S at Table Mountain
Kodak photo with R&S at Table Mountain

Fruit and toast and by 8 o’clock the Dycks were here. We walked down to the V&A Waterfront and got in line for the 9 o’clock ferry to Robben Island. It was plenty windy, and probably even windier once we got out of the harbour. The one-hour ferry ride brought us to the island — and not everyone aboard had the same rosy complexion they started with by the time we disembarked. But WE were all okay.

Entrance to the prison at Robben Island.
Entrance to the prison at Robben Island.

We filed off the ferry and then walked along the pathway to the big sign at the entrance. We passed through and were led into the prison walls by a former ‘inmate’ of the notorious apartheid prison.


The prison at Robben Island
The prison at Robben Island

He had us all seated on benches around the perimeter of the former entrance and processing center of the prison, and then began to tell us something of his experiences as an inmate there. He gave us a lot of names of the various black protest group leaders who served time there with him, including Nelson Mandela. He also told us a bit about what life in prison was like for him in the 70s and 80s, before the end of apartheid in 1990. He spoke clearly but unfortunately his heavy accent made it hard to understand all he was saying.

Nelson Mandela's cell at Robben Island.
Nelson Mandela’s cell at Robben Island.

The guide took our group (about 50 of us) through the various prison sections, stopping to give short talks along the way. We even got to walk past the cell where Nelson Mandela stayed for 18 of his 30 years behind bars.

The second hour of our tour was by bus. A guide explained the various points of interest as the bus drove a loop around the island.

And then it was time to get back on the ferry for the ride home. Oh no, now we’re being herded onto a much smaller ferry! And it’s AGAINST wind all the way back to Cape Town! We’d just made ourselves comfortable on the top deck of the boat when a deckhand came to warn us that we would all get very wet up there — lots of splashing water today. Down below we went, again managing to get ourselves a good spot in a ‘booth’ next to a window. We were a bit concerned about Arlene, who didn’t feel at all good about riding the big waves back to the mainland.


Seasick? Not me! Just stop rockin' the boat so I can get a decent photo.
Seasick? Not me! Just stop rockin’ the boat so I can get a decent photo.

Well, we were just getting comfortable again when a guy comes down there and tells us sorry, but we’re all going to have to get off this boat and take the other boat back. What? Okay, we scramble out and head for the next boat. Arlene is hoping it is the same ‘bigger’ ferry that we were on for the journey here, but no, they insist we get on this smaller boat. Which we do. We all manage to find a cushioned seat up on the deck when, what do you know, a guy comes and tells us we are all gonna get wet up here, lots of splashing today. Down we go, but now we are in a window-less hold below, and there are no empty spots on the benches left. Okay, we’ll just squeeze the seated passengers in a bit tighter and FORCE ourselves onto the end of the benches. And we were LUCKY — quite a few re-seated passengers who got on after us had to sit on the floor, on the stairs, or STAND for the one-hour swell-riding trip back! Now there were quite a few MORE green faces. Barf bags are distributed. Some of us smile weakly, glad that lunch is still AHEAD of us. And for the next hour we hang on for the rolling ride back. No windows, just the loud rumble of the diesel engine and the occasional splash of sea water when it comes down the stairwell.



But we made it, appetites intact. We found a table at an outdoor cafe next to where the buskers were entertaining the Sunday crowd. Good music, good food. Before heading home we made a pitstop at a jewelry store to get a new battery for Arlene’s watch, and another stop at the butcher shop to pick up steaks for our braai tonight.

Back to our respective quarters we went for a quick lie-down before reconvening at our place for happy hour. Around 5 o’clock the Dycks came by. G&Ts and crackers and cheese. We discussed several world issues and then I hooked up the TV to my computer. We looked at a few of the memory cards of photos from Robert and Arlene’s safaris and trip to Victoria Falls.

Now it was time to barbecue the steaks and the potatoes. It didn’t take long and we had a lovely setting before us, with potatoes, steak, salad, and champagne. Delicious.

More after-dinner discussion. By 9:30 we were tired but wait! there’s ice cream! We had some good ice cream with caramel sauce before saying good-night and see you tomorrow morning.

I really wanted to stay up to watch the Superbowl game, which starts at around 3 in the morning — but i don’t think I’ll make it! Too tired too early.

Went to bed at 11:30.