Charles Apple

What a week we’ve had here in Cape Town.

After 38 days in Johannesburg — working with editors, reporters, designers and graphic journalists in conjunction with the relaunch of Rapport, the big Afrikaans-language Sunday paper — I moved to Cape Town for a week with folks here at die Burger and at the company’s corporate headquarters.

The only downside — if you even consider it that — was that I was so busy working, I didn’t have time to blog. Or even to eat, one some days. If it wasn’t for my good friend, group design director Arlene Prinsloo, looking after me this week I would have passed out a number of times from a simple lack of carbs.

Here I am Friday afternoon, speaking to a large group from Huisgenoot, a weekly magazine published here at Media24 headquarters.

It was a large crowd — much larger than our meeting room allowed, quite frankly, so we opened up the large bay doors and spilled out into the hallway.

The audience was very enthusiastic and very kind. They laughed at every joke. Every one.

It was a hell of an ending of a very, very busy schedule of speaking engagements in Cape Town. Arlene had set me up to speak two or three times a day to various groups. I hope everyone was able to take away something from each session.

For the small amount of downtime this week, I was given a spot of honor: A window seat on what I’ll call artists’ row in die Burger’s newsroom. That’s my chair, pulled back on the far side of Jaco Grobbelaar.

The sun didn’t shine much this week. But when it did, I was treated to the most incredible view of Table Bay from my sixth-floor window.

Cannibalism or not? With no time to eat lunch, I made do one day with popcorn, an apple and Coke Light.

Was I able to help facilitate lasting change for the kind journalists at die Burger? Judge for yourself. Before I got here, the bulletin board at my work station looked like this:

But when I left, the bulletin board looked like this:

Hey, don’t thank me now. It’s all part of the service. Glad to help.

Here’s another way I offered valuable advice. After witnessing this, I suggested that Jaco go out and buy himself a pair of glasses.

Ah, yes. Lucky for them they brought in an expensive consultant to advise them in all things.

Behind Jaco, by the way, is Morné Schaap. Morné built a number of extraordinary pieces this week. It was my honor to help art-direct a couple of them. What wonderfully cooperative and eager guys both Jaco and Morné are.

My biggest disappointment of the week: I didn’t get time to call die Burger’s third artist, illustrator Hanlie Malan, who works out of the Port Elizabeth office, many miles east of here. I’ll have to call her soon from Johannesburg to apologize for my being so tied up this week.

I was intrigued by die Burger’s newsroom. No pods or cubicles for them. Nearly every workstation on the entire 6th floor is arranged in long rows. I’ve not seen a set up like this in an American newsroom for many, many years.

Cabinets were sprinkled through the room, just like you see in U.S. newsrooms. However, I was intrigued by the large numbers on each door. I couldn’t quite work out the pattern to the red vs. black numbers…

…nor did I particularly like the kerning. I kept fighting the urge to try to peel off the digits and move them closer together.

The newsroom lobby was particular fascinating, displaying thirteen — count ‘em, thirteen — large LCD monitors

I’m told this was installed several years ago as a proposed convergence newsroom of the future. But then the paper’s internet component was pulled out of the newsroom and moved across town into a completely separate facility. Most of this equipment appears to be unused, now. And the two monitors on the right — the only two I ever say operate — were tuned to a station that seemed to always show cricket.

Tacked on one bulletin board was this touching tribute to companywide photo manager Garth Stead, who passed away last month.

I’m pretty sure that’s Garth’s last published photo, there on die Burger’s op-ed page.

Also centrally located in the newsroom are these nice break rooms.

Through the doors is a glass-enclosed smoking lounge in which you’re no longer allowed to smoke. Hence the no-smoking sign. There seems to be a lot of that going around.

Here is the corridor in front of the elevators. All these elevators and you still had to wait a very, very long time to catch a ride up or down.

The decor reminded me very much of this scene from Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey:

Well… all except for this part. This looks more like something out of the Beatles’ Yellow Submarine:

On the wall are some of the most memorable pages ever produced by the paper. This is one Arlene masterminded when the rugby team won the world cup championship.

And these fire tips — posted bilingually by the elevators — cracked me up.

“Evacuate if necessary.” “Assemble at the assembly point.” Not very helpful, you must admit.

I love No. 3 the most, though: “Try and extinguish the fire.”

Yeah, right. If there’s a huge fire on the sixth floor, I’ll just take off my pants and wring them out over the blaze. They’d be nice and wet by then, I bet.

The company runs a nice cafeteria on the 23rd floor. However, this particular week, I hardly even went up there. I spent most of my break time at the small sidewalk cafe on the building’s first floor.

Not only did we take coffee-and-Coke Light breaks here, but I ended up eating breakfast here as well after I grew fed up with the lousy service I received in my hotel restaurant. The woman you see on the far right here — Vivian — went way out of her way to take very good care of me this week.

When it grew too windy or wet to eat outside, we could move indoors.

Do you see the bookshelves way in the back of that picture? Yes, that’s a bookstore that’s connected to the cafe and also on the first floor of the newspaper building.

If I worked here, I’d have to set up direct deposit from the company to my book store account. My money would never leave the building.

Friday, the company hosted a giant toy drive, featuring coffee and big-time radio morning DJs broadcasting live from the lobby of the tower.

I felt so bad about not donating. I really should have driven over to a mall Thursday night to buy some toys. I make a point of always donating to Toys-For-Tots each year. But I was too busy during the days and too tired each evening. So I didn’t.

Here’s a longer view of the lobby of the building. Visitor parking was very, very close but only once this week did I drive to work.

And pulling out further still, here is the Media24 headquarters tower, in the glow of a partly-cloudy evening.

This interesting sculpture sits out front. I’m pretty sure it displays the names of all the publications that call this building home.

A number of folks drive motorcycles here. I was intrigued by this row of vehicles.

And for newspaper employees who enjoy having four wheels, rather than two, beneath them on the road home each evening, there’s a BMW dealership directly across the street.

Some days, I walked the two or three blocks back to my hotel in the rain. But once or twice, I was greeted by the sight of Table Mountain peering from behind the other skyscrapers of the Cape Town skyline.

One women’s wear storefront intrigues me with the expressive mannequins populating their front windows.

I don’t know whether to stare at her mouth or at her hair.

This one here really creeped me out.

And after meeting all the others, I had this urge to ask the one with pink hair, here on the right, why she was so despondent.

Perhaps she’s gone off her meds or something.

In order to walk from the Media24 tower to my hotel — Hollow on the Square — I have to walk through this small wooded park.

At first glance, you see several figures milling about in the park. But they’re not necessarily people.

Some of the figures are statues. Like this cell phone user.

And this child. Who, to me, looks as if he’s being stalked by an evil tricycle scooter that’s been possessed by demons.

No! Don’t turn your back on it, kid!

And then there was this lovely young thing.

One night, I passed a large group of Asian tourists lining up to take photos of each other with this statue. I paused for a moment to watch. Every damn one of them did something naughty. I kept expecting the statue to get fed up with being groped and to smack one of the men with a mighty bronze-powered backhand.

From that par, I passed beneath this arch between skyscrapers to enter the next square over, where my hotel is located.

In this next courtyard lurks even more interesting sculpture. Namely, this shark, arranged as a weathervane. He turns depending on how the wind is blowing.

It’d be cool enough if it were only one shark. But in fact, there were a whole school of five of them. Very, very cool. And sponsored by a local law office.

Not really. But it makes a good story.

Just beyond the sharks is this little restaurant. About which I know nothing. Nothing at all.

Here’s the grand entrance to my hotel.

It’s a very, very old building but still quite elegant. Guests definitely get five-star treatment here.

Several guests were quite amused to find me shooting a sequence that showed the way the lights inset in the floor changed colors.

The main lobby featured a nice LCD monitor that seemed to perpetually show soccer. In fact, there was a large number of English citizens in the hotel earlier this week. Sunday, I found this room full of folks enjoying a match between English teams.

The main restaurant here in the hotel is an Italian place. The lasagna is pretty good, but their best dish is the fillet of beef.

Normally, at this time of of year, the restaurant does a large amount of business out on the sidewalk. However, it’s been so cold and rainy this week that business has been a bit off.

The view customers get from those sidewalk tables, however, is wonderful. I’m sure this is quite fun in the summers.

On the opposite end of the hotel — closer to the sharks — is this smaller bistro. They, too, have sidewalk seating but a much smaller menu that caters to breakfast and lunch diners.

This is the inside of the bistro, believe it or not. Note the soccer playing on this LCD TV as well.

If I walk to the right and peer around the corner, however, I’ll find a part of the room that looks much more like a conventional restaurant.

When I go to my car — which hasn’t been often this week — I’ll walk past the lobby I showed you above and stroll out what I presume is really the hotel’s rear door…

…which opens into Ryk Tulbagh Square. There’s nice, safe (or, at least, safe-looking) parking here and a number of shops and offices.

Some of the buildings look a bit dodgy. I eyed this one with suspicion until a hotel employee informed me the hotel had bought this building and was renovating it.

The good news: One day it’ll be a fine addition to this place. The bad news: The area desperately needs these rooms in June during the World Cup. But it’s doubtful the rooms will be ready by then.

The first floor of the complex contains a number of interesting retailers. Here’s a coin collector’s shop…

…a coffee-and-breakfast café…

…and a liquor store. Every five-star hotel needs its own liquor store.

In addition to the hotel bar, there is also an Irish-style pub here in the building.

And across the way, there’s this little shop that sells…

Viennas. Whatever those are. To go, even.

Meanwhile, back in the hotel lobby, isn’t this the largest toothpick holder you’ve ever seen?

I was surprised to find this cigarette vending machine tucked into a corner on the first floor.

They phased out cigarette machines in the U.S. nearly a quarter-century ago.

While the hotel is quite nice — and the employees are even nicer — there are a few things that give me pause. For example, one of the two lobby elevators simply doesn’t work well. I nearly busted my ass stepping off the one-inch-plus dropoff here:

Why do all elevators in South Africa have mirrors?

You get a sense of how old the place is by the extremely narrow corridors. I’m in room 102. Which, of course, is on the second floor. Denoted in the elevator as “1.”

I showed you my room last weekend.

Note the painting on the wall at left, which has its own light. Very snazzy. The temperatures here have been quite mild, compared to Johannesburg. Most evenings, I’ve slept with my windows open.

Wednesday, the hotel suddenly filled up with folks attending a wireless technology conference at the Cape Town Convention Center, a block or two from here. Another of the hotel’s guests — Ms. Anderson, who you see with me below — found herself without a room for that night.

I had met Ms. Anderson a few days before. She’s originally from Liverpool but now lives in Seattle and travels the world.

So I paused on my way out the door that morning, chased down the manager and implored him to find Ms. Anderson a room somewhere in the hotel or nearby. I offered to find an alternate room for myself and let her have my room for one night, if necessary. I also offered her my room key so she’d have a place to call home while I was at Media24 all day.

Luckily, none of this was necessary. The manager’s team found a room for Ms. Anderson and so she was cool. I was very impressed with the way the entire staff sprang into action when I asked them too, though.

The other issue I’ve had, off-and-on this week, was internet access. On Wednesday, I remember calculating that I had been in the hotel four nights. Half of those nights I spent with no internet access. Which sucks.

On behalf of Nazley — the very cute night desk manager — I spoke with the technician at the hotel’s ISP and got a hell of a runaround with him. The ISP’s point was: The problem is with my laptop. Never mind the fact that none of the hotels’ customers could log in, nor could the two computers out in the lobby.

We finally got the system up and running, though. And shortly after, I discovered I didn’t have to buy timed internet vouchers to get me online. I could log on using the password from my monthly U.S.-based internet service:

Man, that Boingo is turning out to be one of the best purchases I ever made.

[UPDATE: Man, do I regret writing this bit. Not long after, Sharon informed that every day I use Boingo to access the Wireless G system in my hotel, Boingo is zapping my credit card $25! Which is exorbitant, quite frankly. Incensed, I checked the Wireless G log-in page -- the very one I showed you above. See the bit about "Based on your service plan, premium charges may apply at this location"? Well, that's the premium. OK, that's my own fault. But damned if I have to like it. And damned if I'll say anything good about them.]

A number of us had hoped to go out tonight to celebrate the end of a successful week of visual communication and teaching. However, Morné was pulled away by other commitments and Arlene wasn’t feeling well. So only trainer Magriet Ruthven and artist Jaco Grobbelaar were able to join me at the waterfront Spur steak house at the waterfront.

Mmmm. Steak and draught beer.

We had hoped to take pictures of Table Mountain, which was supposed to be lit up with blue spotlights tonight. But we could see nothing at all of the mountain.

This could very well be the last time I ever see Magriet, so I made sure to give her a big hug. Because, y’know, I could get away with it.

And then I went back to my hotel to try to get at least one blog post written this week.

The plan for Saturday is to… well, hell. I don’t have a clue yet. I might drive around and look for some interesting photos to take. If the weather’s nice, I wouldn’t mind driving down to Hout Bay again. But I’m afraid the soap girls might think I’m stalking them. Or, I might drive down to Muizenburg to watch the surfers feed the sharks.

Or, perhaps I’ll sleep late and then start packing for my return trip to Johannesburg Sunday afternoon. I’ll be in Johannesburg two more weeks before I return home Dec. 1.

Assuming home hasn’t floated away by then. While I’ve enjoyed mild temperatures and light rain all week here in Cape Town, Sharon and Elizabeth and the rest of Virginia Beach have fought off record rainfall and massive flooding throughout the region. Click on either of these Virginian-Pilot fronts for a larger view:

Sharon tells me our house is fine. But many people are flooded out, roads are closed, entire neighborhoods have been evacuated and schools were closed for three days (the Wednesday military holiday plus to bad weather days).

I might be 8,000 miles from home. But I suspect Sharon has more interesting tales than I to tell this week.

This entry was posted on Friday, November 13th, 2009 at 6:11 pm and is filed under 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.