31 MARCH, 2015

We had a pretty good flight from Dar Es Salaam to Jo’burg, though as I might have said in earlier post, FastJet was pretty slow on the TakeOff. Saturday was a much quicker flight to Cape Town where on arrival we picked up a hire care, a very quiet and comfy little Corolla.

On the recommendation of Jenny’s Seth Efrikan friend, Jenny, we decided to stay in Sea Point, a lively beachside suburb just 5 minutes out of the city. No views, sadly, but very nicely appointed and with a small kitchen so we can make our own breakfast. Lots of restaurants here. It feels a bit Bondiish, if we could have a Sydney reference.

Sunday dawned clear and bright and we decided that it being Palm Sunday we would go to a nearby church, the Sea Point Evangelical Congregational Church. (SPECC). At least I think the E was for evangelical, but it could well have been “Extra-long-sermons”! Nothing about Palm Sunday. They were a friendly lot for all that, but no tea or coffee on offer, and as soon as the preacher gave the benediction, they all dived for the door, perhaps motivated by the promise of a annual general meeting at the conclusion of the service. They were very impressed that we had given up watching the cricket World Cup final to go to church. We actually saw all of the NZ innings, but fortunately that did not take long.

Our next engagement was the Robben Isalnd tour which departs from the new V&A Waterfront, a massive redevelopment of the harbour area. Jen did her usual pre-flight/car/boat medicating routine while we had a quick lunch. We managed to pick up the last over of the cricket on a nearby TV. World Cup to Australia!. The boat to Robben Island is a fast catamaran, and the sea was reasonably calm so we arrived without incident. It was an interesting tour, a bit sombre looking at the harsh conditions so many were held in. We travelled around the island in busses. Our tour guide served four years of a sixteen year sentence for political crimes during the apartheid era and he had lots of stories, and lived experience of life on Robben Island. We were all a bit stunned when a fight broke out among passengers at the rear of the bus, apparently over a disputed seat. Someone in the dispute used pepper spray, and suddenly the brawl was spilling out of the bus and going hell for leather by the roadside. The instigator was a cranky old white guy, angry that he did not have the same seat he had been using before one of the stops. He was the one with the pepper spray. How he had the pepper spray is a mystery as bags were searched before the ferry ride and guns and other weapons had to be put in lockers!

I was a bit taken with the irony that the people whose cells we had been visiting had fought for the very freedom that we could all – black and white –  sit on the same bus.

No such excitement today, Tuesday. A part of us just wants to be home, to cuddle our little grandson, Casper. But we still have a few things to do. We booked a spot on the cable car to Table Mountain, and hopped on the Red Tour Bus to take us to the cable station. As we approached our destination, the commentary advised us the Table Mountain is Africa’s third most visited tourist attraction, a fact confirmed by the enormous queue. Jen’s apprehension for things involving heights began to kick in, but we prevailed and waited our turn. It is certainly worth it, as the vista from the Table is magnificent.

Oh well, we will fill in the days for the next week. Tomorrow a drive out to the Cape and a look at the botanical gardens.

cheers.