Charles Apple

Saturday was simply one of the most amazing days of my life. Period.

I saw things that left me breathless. Speechless. And I’m quite certain I won’t do those things justice in my report to you today. This part of the world contains such beauty and magnificence that my words are inadequate.

My traveling companion — of whom I took many pictures but tells me he’d rather remain anonymous for now, just so you know — met for breakfast high atop the Westin Grand, where I’ve been living for nearly a week. The view is incredible, of course, but we found ourselves drawn over breakfast to the sight of an oil rig being towed into drydock in the harbor of Cape Town:

That’s it in the distance, with the red-topped base. It was huge and moved very, very slowly.

As you can see, the day broke very grey. We wondered how cold and windy we’d be as we viewed the towns along the east side of the Cape of Good Hope peninsula and the tip of the cape itself.

We drove out out town, around Table Mountain and stopped for gas at a Shell Station, where I found this amusing sign:

Hmm. Sounds dangerous. It’ll suck your ear right off the side of your head!

We headed South on the M3 highway. Our first stop — only 15 miles or so from downtown Cape Town — was the seaside village of Muizenburg.

The mountains nestle right up against the beachfront. The views are just stunning. We found a group of wetsuit-clad surfers riding the Saturday morning waves in an area known as Surfers’ Corner:

They call it that because the waves are big enough to ride, yet gentle enough for beginners.

This large sign details all the things you can’t do at the waterfront in Muizenberg. That includes no throwing away of garbage (upper left), no Apollo capsules (middle of the second row), no slingshots (top row, second from right) and no balancing a plate on your middle finger (second row, left):

The downtown area itself is gorgeous. At one time, Muizenberg was the place to spend a seaside vacation. Guests would arrive at this Victorian-era train station:

My traveling companion craved a look in the local antique store, directly across the street from the train station:

There were all sorts of fascinating things in there. Much seemed reasonably priced, compared to antiques in the U.S. But, of course, shipping costs would eat you up:

The owner showed us around his shop. When he discovered we were journalists, he pulled out a portfolio case of vintage historical photos:

I found a history of World War II from a South African perspective, told via the nation’s newspapers. The owner asked only R50 for the book, which translates into $6.24.

Naturally, I bought it.

On the way out, I found this amusing wall poster:

The next town down the coast was St. James. Colorful swimsuit changing booths lined the beach:

The next town — Kalk Bay — was filled with antique stores, diners and palm trees. And, of course, mountains:

It’s a good thing they named this the “Orange Building.” If they called it the “Green Building,” they’d have to repaint it:

This was a church that has been converted to a theater:

While my traveling companion visited a few more antique stores, I soaked up a little Kalk Bay atmosphere. I became fascinated by the colorful alleys, each of which framed the mountain beyond (click each for a larger view):

By the time we reached the next little town, Fish Hoek, it was time for lunch. My companion suggested we try a KFC to note the differences between it and the U.S. version. From the outside, of course, the place looked very similar to its American counterpart:

And, at first glance, so did the inside:

I was surprised, though, to find this Coca-Cola machine behind the counter:

You don’t find KFCs in the U.S. selling Coke products. For many years, in fact, KFC was owned by the Pepsi company, as were Taco Bell and Pizza Hut.

I searched in vain for my favorite KFC menu items. They’re all totally different here. And, I might add, what we call “extra crispy” is “original recipe” in South Africa.

I decided on the “Streetwise Mega Deal” sandwich combo you see here on the left. The price gave me a jolt until I remembered it’s listed in Rand:

R29.90 comes out to about $3.75. Awfully cheap by American standards.

We resumed our journey southward along False Bay. The next town was Glencairn. This is a view behind us, north toward Fish Hoek:

Beautiful, rich-looking homes dotted the shore. We wondered how often rocks fall from the top of the mountain and crash through folks’ bedroom walls and windows.

This is the view ahead, toward Simon’s Town:

Simon’s Town is the home to the South African navy. Here, you can see a number of vessels in harbor (on the left) while dozens of pleasure sailboats are anchored in the bay itself:

We drove past Simon’s Town to Boulders, a part of the local national park.

I had brought my jacket, but the early-morning clouds had burned off, leaving a very happy sun and two travelers who grew warm at times. The weather continually reminds me of Florida. As does the flora:

At Boulders, a local music group sang in traditional Zulu a cappella style — called Iscathamiya — but took breaks to hawk copies of their latest CD. Local artists sold their work to tourists:

Park officials asked folks to be conscientious about their waste:

The big attraction at Boulders is the penguins. I had thought that penguins lived only in cold weather and only in Antarctica. Obviously, I was wrong:

The folks at Boulders placed plastic tubs, half-buried in the ground, where the birds can nest. We spotted numbers on each tub: Yes, even penguins have street addresses now:

It was very cool to “make the acquaintance” of the penguins. Perhaps I should have brought my business cards.

Simon’s Town and Boulders was pretty much the last stop on our trek southward. Before we entered the giant Cape of Good Hope Nature Preserve, though, we stumbled upon this old shantytown filled with poverty-stricken South Africans:

It was a jarring reminder that the gorgeous seaside tourist-and-antique towns we had been enjoying all morning represent only a small portion of the country’s residents. While South Africa has come a long, long way in 20 years, it still has a long way to go.

The nature preserve itself is lined with gorgeous trees. We drove about 12 miles through territory like this…

…and laughing at the occasional road sign:

I really want one of those for my wall. Seriously. The punctuation mark makes the warning just that much better.

The folks in the nature preserve take their baboons very seriously. Apparently, they have the same problem with baboons here that we have with bears back home: Tourists feed them, causing the animals to lose their fear of humans. And, reportedly, baboons can get quite nasty:

As we approached the end of the peninsula, we didn’t see any baboons. But I did find this lizard. It was a giant lizard. Nearly 15 feet long, perhaps:

Don’t believe me? Would you believe five feet long? How about six inches?

Yeah, he was tiny. But he sure looked fierce.

From the car park, we saw the old Cape Point lighthouse atop the last mountain on the peninsula. It was pretty enough, but it just didn’t seem all that impressive from the parking lot:

You can walk up the mountain, if you wish. We chose to take the funicular, which is a small train that runs up the steep side of the mountain:

Yeah, there was no way I was climbing that mountain on foot.

Even when we reached the end of the train ride, we still had to climb a large number of steps — probably the equivalent of a five- or six-story building.

I made it to the top, though, without having a coronary:

And the views from the lighthouse were stunning. Absolutely, incredibly, breathtakingly stunning.

This is the point just beyond the lighthouse. You can walk out there, too — note the tiny house about halfway across the top — but I didn’t feel up to that kind of physical activity. (Click this one for a larger view, by the way.)

Yes, this point is the most extreme southwestern point on the African continent. To the west — or the right, in this photo — is the Atlantic Ocean. To the east is the Indian Ocean.

What surprised me was how clear the water was. See the greenish glow caused by sunlight bouncing off the white sandy ocean bottom?

Interestingly, though, that point is actually Cape Point. The Cape of Good Hope is the next point over, to the east (click for a larger view):

Unless I’m mistaken, that’s Cape Agulhas lurking in the mists to the east (this one, too, is clickable):

The view from the lighthouse was all I had dreamed it would be. I’ve assembled this rough panorama of the entire view. The radio antenna you see on the far left is the same one on the far right. Click for a much, much larger look:

And, of course, the lighthouse has the obligatory mileage directory. But in kilometers:

After snapping dozens and dozens of photos, we rode the train back down to the parking lot so we could drive the short distance to the Cape of Good Hope itself.

In the parking lot, I spotted this travel van sporting an amusing slogan:

The more obvious choice would have been “The Lion Sleeps Tonight,” I guess. But George Michael works, too.

It was then that we spotted them. The dreaded baboons:

Suddenly, they were everywhere. And yes, folks approached much too closely and offered food. Despite the signs to the contrary.

I took pictures, but only from a safe distance. Some of these baboons resembled editors for whom I’ve worked. I wasn’t about to mess with them:

The views around us were all just gorgeous. Everywhere we looked, we could see yet another stunning sight. I just couldn’t believe this place:

This place here — maybe a mile from Cape Point, if that far — is the actual Cape of Good Hope:

The waves of the Atlantic struck the rocks again and again, producing a thunderous roar:

We soaked up the views, took our souvenir photos…

…and headed back north. Our next scheduled stop: Hout Bay, on the Atlantic. We stopped at a convenience store in Fish Hoek for a snack and bottled water:

We continued to find signs that made us giggle like sixth graders:

We discovered, however, that the route we had hoped to drive — across Chapman’s Peak — had been closed for more than a year due to rock slides. We detoured through the Silvermine and Kirstenbosch areas of the central peninsula, which is only ten or so miles across at this point anyway. No biggie.

However, as we approached Hout Bay, something very strange occurred. We were both stricken with sudden bout of drowsiness. I found myself nodding off. My companion — driving the rental car — didn’t, but he realized he was suddenly very sleepy.

I’ve never experienced anything quite like that. I wondered if we had received a dose of carbon monoxide from the cars in front of us, or if it had something to do with the change in air pressure as we went up and down the mountains.

In order to clear our heads, we pulled over where a group of young men were playing soccer (or, as they call it here, football), seemingly oblivious to the grandeur around them:

Both teams wore uniforms and the referees seemed quite official, so clearly, this was no pick-up game. It was some kind of league or club match. The only thing amiss was that the field was in incredibly bad shape, with mud puddles and a deep trench running across it:

There was no concession stand. Instead, a man toted around a bag of oranges. Pay a few Rand and you can suck on an orange as you watch the match:

Feeling refreshed, we drove the few miles to the waterfront of Hout Bay itself. What a gorgeous little town:

Between the bay and the Atlantic is a mountain they call the Sentinel:

Looking back across the bay, we see Chapman’s Peak — where the road was blocked — masked by a cloud (Click for a larger view):

The bay was lined with shops and restaurants and, of course, a long wharf. We walked out a ways to get the flavor of the seaside area. We found tuna fishermen repairing their boats and chatting with tourists:

The captain of the Constantia Cape was kind enough to explain how, exactly, his crew catches fish and the other details involved in his trade:

Some boats were in poor repair and others looked quite new. Nearly all had clever names. This one caught my eye:

And, all the while, seals frolicked in the water between the wharf and the boats:

We figured it was time to leave when a wave of clouds rolled over Karbonkelberg mountain to the west:

This, if I’m not mistaken, is that same cloud, but taken from the other side of the mountain. That’s the town of Llandudno, around the base of the mountain:

Click that photo and the next for larger views.

Tiny little clouds drifted by harmlessly above. Just because a carpet of cloud rolled over us didn’t mean it would rain, evidently. The great luck I’ve had with weather this week held up all day Saturday.

It had been a long day — a long, gorgeous, incredibly beautiful day — but the sun was indeed preparing to take a gainer into the Atlantic:

We had only a few miles, though, to go in order to complete our circuit to Cape Town. You see Lion’s Head mountain way in the distance, here, beyond Camp’s Bay:

This row of mountain facades, facing Camp’s Bay, are known as the Apostles:

Entering the city center of Cape Town, we passed by the giant soccer stadium at Green Point, where they’ll be playing World Cup games next summer:

In front, you can see one of the local robots.

That’s what they call stoplights here. Robots. Seriously.

I got back to my room, threw open my window and was treated with one last breathtaking sight to end my wonderful day (Click for a larger view):

The sun had already set behind Signal Hill, but here, it’s illuminating the clouds from beneath.

This was my sixth day here in South Africa. I don’t know what’s in store for me yet. But I’ll have a very difficult time topping the events of Saturday.

Un. Be. Lievable.

—
EXPEDITION TO SOUTH AFRICA

You’re reading chapter nine of my journey to Cape Town, South Africa. Previous installments:

• CHAPTER 1: Preparing for the journey.
  
• CHAPTER 2: I made it as far as the Dulles airport bar
• CHAPTER 3: Getting really bored sitting at Dulles
• CHAPTER 4: Safe and sound in Cape Town
• CHAPTER 5: Day one in Cape Town
  
• CHAPTER 6: Day two; No effects at all from jet lag
• CHAPTER 7: A tour of the Westin Grand
• CHAPTER 8: Dealing with little things like money and electricity
• CHAPTER 9: Thursday night on the Cape Town waterfront
• CHAPTER 10: Ending the work week on a high note

This entry was posted on Sunday, August 30th, 2009 at 12:54 am and is filed under Charles Apple, Travelogue, Trip to South Africa. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.