The Wandering Chocoholic

The best laid plans o’ mice and backpackers

An early start today to squeeze in the last bit of sightseeing before leaving South Africa. Since I chose to visit Cape Town in winter, it means I’ve had somewhat unpredictable weather to deal with, which has thrown a monkey wrench into some of my plans. Table Mountain’s cable car has been closed each day since I got here due to high winds, so I never made it up there, unfortunately. The Robben Island ferries, likewise, haven’t been running due to choppy seas. Yesterday, in a fit of optimism, I made one last attempt at the latter, and booked a ticket on this morning’s 9am tour.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get much sleep last night, since one of my dormmates was snoring like a 747 at takeoff. So my early morning wakeup was pretty painful. To make matters worse, I feel like I’m coming down with a cold. I don’t know why every time I travel, I seem to catch a cold. Very frustrating. Nonetheless, I dragged myself out of bed and down to the waterfront, and after a few false starts I located the Robben Island museum and ferry docks just in time to board.

Retracing Nelson Mandela’s steps

Visiting Robben Island and taking the tour of the former prison is one of those must-dos while in Cape Town. It seems particularly relevant at the moment, though. Nelson Mandela is once again in hospital in critical condition, and it’s increasingly likely that this is close to the last chance to visit some of these sights during his lifetime. (In fact, the locals here are all talking about Barack Obama’s impending visit to South Africa, and how he’s reorganizing his travel plans to come here earlier due to Mandela’s failing health.)

The ferry ride took about a half hour on rocky, choppy waves. It had been raining in Cape Town, and the views of the harbour were of a giant black cloud hanging over the top of Table Mountain. When we got to the island, though, it cleared up and got sunny, though still cold and windy. Four seasons in one day, that’s Cape Town weather for you.

We were guided through the prison by a former inmate, a man who was arrested as a political prisoner for being a member of the ANC at the age of 19. Most of the tours are led by people who were held at Robben Island. Our guide has been leading these tours since only a few years after his release, and I couldn’t help but ask him why. After all, he spent most of his life as a prisoner there; why would he voluntarily go back every day now that he’s a free man? He just smiled and said that it was very difficult for him at first, but he feels it’s important to share his story, so that people know what happened and the record is preserved for history. In fact. there’s a massive effort underway to record the stories of the guides and other former political prisoners so that they will be able to play the recordings for future tour groups once the guides are no longer able to do the tours live.

The tour had much in common with other prison tours, including a chance to stand inside the cells, to see the guard towers and barbed wire and common spaces. But it was the personal stories that made this different. The guide spoke of the efforts to organize, to hold secret elections among the prisoners and to share food and meagre smuggled resources. He talked about how the number one thing that they tried to smuggle were newspapers, or any news or word from the outside. He described how they relieved themselves in buckets and they all slept on the floor, until Red Cross and UN pressure forced the prison to get cots for the prisoners. He spoke of the efforts that the prisoners made to befriend and sway some of the guards over to their cause, and how frustrating it was when they’d finally accomplished this with a few only to have the guards rotate completely every eighteen months. He talked of the time that he had waited six months for a visit from his father, only to be told the day of that his father had been shot eight times and was in critical condition in the hospital, merely for coming to see him. His voice shook as he described the various ways in which prisoners were tortured, including one friend of his who was quite literally buried alive.

It seems difficult to imagine modern-day South Africa emerging from this. And yet, many significant government leaders since 1994 were imprisoned on Robben Island, including Nelson Mandela, of course, as well as current prime minister Jacob Zuma, and a whole host of other prominent leaders and politicians.

On the return ferry trip, I accidentally met a few people who were part of a missionary tour from the US to South Africa. I nodded politely as they tried to explain their work, and looked around for an excuse to extract myself from the conversation. Luckily, as we neared Cape Town harbour, the combination of sun and rain formed a rainbow over Table Mountain, so I rushed outside for the photo op and managed to lose them in the crowd.

South Africa musings

I grabbed a takeout sandwich at the Waterfront,  headed back to the hostel for a quick shower, and checked out just in time to grab the shuttle to the airport. And with that, my South Africa trip comes to a close. I really have barely scratched the surface of this huge, impossibly complicated, impressive, screwed up and amazing country. I spent just about all my time in a single province, and at that, I just barely got a taste of it. There are very few cities in the world where I can spend ten days as a tourist and still leave with a long list of major attractions and sights unseen. Cape Town is one of them.

After all, this is a stunningly beautiful city with great weather, amazing scenery, great culture and nightlife. A beer costs about two dollars and a nice meal out with a glass of wine will run about a tenner. Unlike Montreal, Cape Town has well maintained roads and bridges and overpasses, and the streets are clean. Even despite the devaluation of the Rand, property prices remain affordable for most of the middle class and up. You`re within a twenty minute drive of wineries, national parks, wildlife, sports and arts and more. There doesn’t seem to be any end to things to do and see. And not only are the people some of the friendliest I’ve ever met, but they seem genuinely warm and interested and engaged.

It’s not all hearts and flowers, though. Nineteen years after the formal end of apartheid and the ushering in of democracy, South Africa is still a nation deeply divided. The race laws don’t exist anymore, but the rich are still overwhelmingly white and the poor are still overwhelmingly black. While poverty exists all over Africa, here, the wealthy live so well that it creates a huge gap between the haves and have-nots. Almost every intersection or major street has people begging for change, and crime is at staggeringly high levels. Wealthy suburbanites lock their homes and gates, and the streets are nearly devoid of pedestrians. Nothing even remotely bad happened to me, but just about everyone who’s lived here long term has a story about being mugged or robbed or something similar or worse. It’s a great life here — if you’re well off, white, and prepared to live under siege.

So I have mixed feelings. I thoroughly enjoyed my time visiting here, but I don’t think I could live here long term. On the other hand, as a place to visit, Cape Town really can’t be beat.

Now I`m at the airport waiting to depart for the second half of my trip. I`m really looking forward to Namibia. Stay tuned for more updates once I get to Windhoek.