Chicago Connection Chapter I: Christmas In Cape Town

Getting to Namibia, or South Africa for that matter, was less than straight forward in 2010. Whether it be volcanic ash, terrorist threats in Amsterdam, or snow (come on London, 2-inches?) there has been no shortage of hurdles to take the normally luxurious 30 hours of travel in a stale, hot and smelly flying Tylenol. If one does make it through, the experience is worth its weight in over-packed luggage (or at least as much can be hoped). So, after barely getting out of Heathrow, two girls from Chicago arrived in Cape Town on Christmas Eve to meet their best friend and a male escort for two weeks of laughs, talks, meals, hikes, kilometres, wine, animals, joy and wonder. After talk of travel and an introduction to the coolest vehicle ever, they drove off into the beautiful city that is Cape Town.

Following a short tour of the few sites known by the Namibians, the girls were taken to their Cape Town home in the DeWaterkant Village, a storied colonial neighbourhood with an Old Town feel and an Andersonville vibe, just a half hour walk to the Waterfront. They jumped head first into the trip, grabbing a bite of salty fried ocean food and drinks on the Atlantic harbour. Being the festive season, travellers from all over the world had descended upon the international city to celebrate, thus the tour to Robben Island was sold-out for weeks and was therefore substituted with the budget catamaran skippered by high school kids that may or may not have been drinking. Regardless, Robben Island came into view from where they lounged barefoot on the open netting deck, watching dolphins and breathing in a panoramic of the city with the ocean air.

CATAMARAN

ROOFTOP VIEW IN DEWATERKANT

The four arose on Christmas Day
Under a crisp blue sky and the wind at bay
“A hikers day!” The blond one spoke
“To Table Mountain and its grassy Slope!”

They started away from the distant crowd
On peaceful trail not pushy or loud
“Don’t worry that our route is an extra hour
We get a ride down” the escort said, sniffing a flower

NOT PUSHY OR LOUD

It seemed to make sense and they started the walk
They relished the views with giggle and talk
The wind picked up and the grade it did rise
Along with sore ankles and a burn in the thighs

They imagined a man with rosy red nose
Awaiting up top in warm red clothes
An open door to his downward sleigh
With four Coca-Colas on a silvery tray

The wind grew stronger and the hikers thinned out
A heavy cloud loomed at the side of the Mount
The path grew steeper, the table in sight
The top of the mountain, the end of the fight

Then came swiftly down from the peak
A Grinch of a woman and she did speak
“They’re closing the tram because of the breeze,
You better get moving, your time’s in a squeeze.”

Panic and worry and wind and the cloud
Santa you bastard, don’t let us down
They hustled and bustled, they got to the top
But found as they feared the tram it had stopped

BURN IN THE THIGHS

They watched in wonder the silent city below
Happy to be there but weary to go
Back on the trail from whence they had come
And the extra hour leg of the trail that was dumb

HAPPY AND WEARY

As a reward, the four dined at a restaurant in Camps Bay on calamari, Kingklip, prawns, butterfish, lobster, Sole, yellow fin Tuna, chips, rice, veggies, brownies, crème brule and malva pudding . . . then settled down for a long winters nap.

While the Chicago girls lay comatose from lingering jet lag and the Table Mounain aftermath, the Namibians discovered, after having been eaten by mosquitoes for the second night, that someone had attempted to break into the house. After moving to a much nicer place with a great dvd collection, they drove off to a leisurely day at the Kirstenbosch Gardens for lunch and to wander the massive rolling grounds. They ended the Cape Town chapter by tramping the city for the rest of the day, sharing wine, eating at a local Thai place on cobblestone streets and sleeping beneath wall sized paintings of elephants.

KIRSTENBOSCH GARDENS

The next day, they loaded into the 4x4 and drove the coast through the salty colonial harbour towns, first to Hout Bay, for a walk on the sandy beach and to use the icy Atlantic waters to soothe battered feet. The lunch stop was Kalk Bay, and the famous Kalky’s for lekker fried fish, filling their guts with greasy hake, calamari and chips. Somehow the sexes became separated during the shopping along the streets lined with craft jewellers, antiques, and clothing stores. After a stop in South Africa’s worst public toilet, they were off to a final stop in Muizenberg and a view of the vibrant beach shacks and the windswept ocean, then inland, through Stellenbosch and the lush valley of Franschhoek. Their new home was a quiet bed and breakfast on a gravel drive off the main road, at the base of the rocky valley hills.

HOUT BAY

LEKKER FISH N' CHIPS

MUIZENBERG

VIEW FROM THE BED AND BREAKFAST

Finally, the day for the wine tour had arrived. The group sensed that both the bed and breakfast and the taxi driver had agendas. Overriding the numerous suggestions, they pointed to the winery on the map that looked as if it was best tucked away up the slopes of the valley. With a little protest, the driver led them there, through the long pine forest drive, up to a patio that overlooked the side valley and drank likely the best red wine in the region at Boekenhoutskloof. The winery was so confident in their product that they didn’t even charge for tastings and their blend was sold out before it was bottled. From there, the driver was permitted to take over. The second stop was the Grahm Beck Vineyard, the Budweiser of the valley, who made the bubbly that was served at the inauguration dinners of both Nelson Mandela and Barack Obama. It was sleek and stylish and set indoors with a window wall to the stainless steel operations inside. It lacked the organic feel of the first stop, but served hearty glasses of wine good enough for the highest political offices. The third stop at Plaisir de Merle had an outdoor patio overlooking the long vineyards into the valley and specialized in whites. Double vision had begun to set in so they took their time and chewed on the crackers, gearing up for the last stop, Fairview, a very popular and large scale operation. Though it was much more touristy, mainly due to the attraction of the goat tower that is adorns their label, an extra ten bucks ushered the four from the masses into a large private room where eight wines were served with eight cheeses. It was a great end to the day and the four returned tipsy and happy.

BOEKENHOUTSKLOOF

GRAHM BECK BUDWEISSER

CHEESY FAIRVIEW

During the last day in the valley, the escort opted to get away from the cackle and went for a hike on the wandering logger roads up and behind the bed and breakfast. The women chatted poolside and went shopping for unity items in the posh downtown stores. After each group was sufficiently refreshed from the separation, they rejoined and ate lunch at the Dieu Donne vineyard, watching strange couples complain about the service while they changed their order fifteen times, but primarily enjoying the view over the terrace that looked out into the valley. At the escort’s suggestion, they decided to hit one last winery that he promised they would love because of the setting. The reviews from the ladies were less than kind and the escort was ridiculed for his folly.

LOGGER ROAD VISTA

FOLLY

The following morning, the coolest car in the world drove out of the valley and the slow first day of the drive to Namibia began. On a detour, they visited a game farm nestled in the Karoo to give the girls their first taste of the wildlife on the south end of the continent. The sightings were plentiful, but the girls were not fooled. For every Springbok, Eland, Oryx, Lion, Zebra, Buffalo, Wildebeest, Giraffe, Rhino, Hippo, Cheetah and Impala, there was a hidden concrete water hole, radar collar, feeding point and fence. It was a great zoo, but a zoo nonetheless. The Namibians assured them that Etosha would be a better wildlife experience.

KAROO VIEW

ZEBRA

RHINO

GIRAFFE

CHEETAH

From the farm, they drove another four hours north through the varied landscapes of the Western Cape, arriving as planned in the town of Nuwers. The silent little town of dusty roads, empty colonial buildings and hillside shacks gave the girls the heebies followed by the jeebies as they pulled into their resting spot for the night signalled by the tattered German flag blowing with the tumble weeds. The wife of the establishment showed the girls around while the escort made the mistake of following the old husband into the house where the two resided. What happened in the house was the most bizarre experience the escort had ever had. In a sentence, the old German man watched with crazy eyes as he electrocuted the escort with a health instrument. Greater detail of that story is available from the blog editor. Needless to say, the four woke before the sun and got the hell out of there, driving fast to wide and open arms of Namibia.

HEEBIE JEEBIE