History and beaches

Day 41 - Monday July 5th, Cape Town

We had grand plans to hike up and down Table Mountain (about 5 hours roundtrip...rather than take the cablecar up for the views), but awoke to a very grey sky. Other hostel guests said it would probably rain, so we nixed that idea. Other than the downside of getting wet, the entire (or at least most of) the motivation for hiking the mountain were the incredible views from the summit - getting there to find the sights obstructed by clouds/fog didn't sound that awesome.

We decided to postpone the hike by a day and instead took the train downtown (about 1 USD one way per person...transport troubles solved. As long as we traveled between 7am and 6pm when the train was considered safe). We headed to the District 6 museum, located in, believe it or not, the historic District 6 in Johannesburg. This was one of the more famous areas affected by government legislation during the apartheid era that would classify sections of land (good sections, obviously) as "white only," forcing any non-whites (in District 6, that was virtually everyone) to move to black or coloured areas..."townships", usually located outside the city, even if they owned their house or had lived in the area for generations. District 6 was an exceptionally vibrant community and, being in downtown Joburg, was an area in which the govt strictly inforced the law and removal of families, followed by the bulldozing of their homes. Over some 15 years, over 60,000 residents were re-located. The museum is dedicated to preserving the memory of that community and explaining the history of the apartheid era and was really interesting as it drew on many firsthand accounts from former residents.

The day turned out to be another beautiful one and we bemoaned the fact that the summit of Table Mountain looked incredibly clear. We grabbed lunch, hit the internet cafe for updates and more planning for the week, and explored downtown some more. Given how nice a day it was and how crowded the week's schedule was getting with the postponement of hiking, we decided to take a quick jaunt out to Camps Bay for the afternoon.

We got there by rikki, or shared taxi, and picked up (and dropped off) and elderly gentleman and an even more elderly lady along the way. They were a riot; the woman showed us a picture of her husband and a lion he'd killed from about 100 years ago, the old man made almost inappropriate jokes (you get to do that when you're old, I've learned) and counseled us to not ever have children because then you are tied down and can't enjoy life. A riot, like I'd said. We got to Camps Bay, a beautiful wealthy suburb just south of Cape Town and hit the beach, Atlantic style. Not two days before, we'd been at the Indian Ocean, so we fancied ourselves quite the travelers. We took the difficult route to boulder onto some huge rocks in the sea and admired the views of being at the beach with a huge mountain looming overhead. We got a drink and tried to find a more economical way back to town and the train station than calling a cab, even a shared one. The bus didn't seem to come, ever, but I spotted a mutation driver yelling "Cape Town" and we jumped in. I figured if we could handle mutatus in Kenya and Uganda, we could surely pass muster here.

We did and it was about 1/10 the price of a shared taxi. We headed to the grocery store to get some goods for dinner and took the train back to the hostel to cook ourselves dinner and get laundry done. All very domestic. It was weird having no soccer to watch, but we caught up with Martin and Trish, my first introduction to them, and spent the evening recounting our travels and comparing notes on Africa, the Cup, and traveling in general. They've been traveling for about six months now, having gone all through Asia before coming to South Africa, so they certainly had some stories to tell. That and they are both just fantastically hilarious people who have funny accents and love to talk - the perfect recipe for an entertaining time.