Adrenaline Junkiesville

It's back to Windhoek today, having spent four days in an adrenaline seeker's paradise. We toured the famous sand dunes of the Namib Desert in the best ways possible. We sand "boarded" (more like tobogganed) our first day here. Later we got a bird's eye view of the landscape, as we plunged from 10,000 feet in a 220 km/hour, 30 second freefall. That's right, people, we jumped out of a plane.

I had decided a couple of weeks ago that I wanted to take the opportunity to skydive in this incredible setting. I was really surprised when Justina told me she was onboard and Heather followed suit. So I made the booking for three, not sure if all three of us would actually make the jump. But we were off the very next morning to the airport. I was calm from beginning to end, more excited than anything else, having no expectations, though I was a little goofy throughout the whole process.

When they opened the hatch of our tiny plane, which only fits 6 people squashed together plus the pilot, and they insisted Heather jump first, I was a little nervous about seeing her drop out of sight. It was bizarre. They dropped, but the plane keept right on going ... obviously. I was the next to go, followed by Justina. Heather and her skydiving master turned out to be floaters, first to jump but last to land. My dude, Craig, decided to take me for a much crazier ride. We were doing donuts and swirlies all the way down, which cuts your time in half. But he also gave me the opportunity to enjoy the serenity as well. He told me to close my eyes and spread my arms ... we flew like a bird, feeling the rush of air on my face as we dove downwards and the sun as we sailed upwards. Justina's experience was more like mine, and landed about a minute after I did. We both were elated and jumped up and down on her landing. Heather was a little more subdued, getting a more tame ride than we did. But we all agreed on the sheer awesomeness of the experience, something I would do again if the setting could compare. A desert set against a bright blue ocean is probably tough to compete with, let alone beat, however.

Fortunately, we caught a lot of it on film, thanks to our handicams. Our videos reveal what freefalling at 220 km/hour does to Justina's cheeks, my nostrils, and Heather's face in general ... not pretty, folks. My video also includes a 15 second tanget at the end, when Craig egged me on to chat about my experience and I got a little sentimental about the past six months of my time in Africa. (We also have a really fun video from our time sandboarding, which we got for free!) It will be cool to share the experiences with you all, when I can figure out how to post them. And hopefully they will convince my parents that the experience was well worth the expense (ish!)!

It's off to the bus station for us! Can you believe I'm home in just a few days?!? I can't! Whoa ... whoa.

Peace out,

Allison

The Bad Dog Crew

The Bad Dog Crew
Originally uploaded by axlinafrica.

We departed Vic Falls on July 8th, after four fun-filled days with Heather and Justina. The highlight of the week consisted of rafting down the Zambezi River. We flipped once, on "The Mother," though I know I for one pretty much dove in and made no attempt to keep the raft upright. Hey, you gotta go in at least once, right? I then was handed the helm by our guide, Taka, and became honorary navigator, which I (of course) delighted in, being the power monger that I am. We scored an amazing deal for the trip, after shopping around a little. We went with Bad Dog and bad boy Taka, who, um, took us under his wing for a few days, unexpectedly showing up at out hostel in the mornings and at our sunset cruise (well, eventually it was like clockwork). It got to be a bit much, really, and we found ourselves making up elaborate stories about imaginary friends we had to meet up with.

The sunset cruise, which I had done a few days earlier with my Zim friends, was well worth the repeat, being a totally different experience the second time around. We couldn't believe our eyes when a herd of elephants began wading across the Zambezi right in front of us. We parked for about 15 minutes to watch them forage. Unfortunately, by that time we had had more than a few Zambezis and Schweppe Lemons (Chantes), so I had to concentrate on just how big this moment was. We were again blessed with more elephant sightings on our journey to Maun, Botswana. It felt special to see them along the highway, along with their zebra pals, outside a tourist setting.

Admittedly, we were a little relieved to be getting out of the land of funny money, as it had just got to the point of frustration for me. And so we were off to the Zim-Bots border with a little help from an old friend of Simba's, Blake, the boy with the prettiest green eyes we ever did see. Blake hooked us up with a ride 80 km to the border and with some pulas (Bots currency) for a mini-bus on the other side of the border. After crossing and reaching the nearby town of Kasane around noon, we discovered there was no means of transport for the first 300km of the trip to Maun that "late" in the day (buses typically begin to run around 4am in these parts). This turned out to be a blessing in disguise, however. It offered Justina and Heather an opportunity to go on their first wildlife safari, and into Chobe National Park at that. For the price I couldn't justify doing yet another safari, but it was a most spectacular place for the two of them to be introduced to the African wildlife viewing experience.

By 6am the next morning we were at the taxi rank awaiting a bus for Maun, which came 2.5 hours later! Ha! Justina and Heather were of course not pleased by this, but it was a good intro for them to the frustrations of public transport. When a bus rounded the bend, everyone rushed forward and pushed to get on, as is standard practice here (otherwise, you may get left behind). The three of us managed to get on, though people voiced their disapproval of the size of our packs. Whatever. The ride to Nata, where we caught a TRUE "chicken" bus to Maun, was a tight fit. Once in Nata, we elected to jump on the first bus, no matter how ghetto, no matter if it meant standing for the whole journey. Fortunately, within a half hour we were all sitting relatively comfortably, though Justina had some greasy food dropped on her lap and we all nearly suffocated from the heat in there. No one would open the windows, as they all seemed content in their beanies and sweaters. Meanwhile, I was rolling up my jeans and fanning myself with a book of Sudukos.

In Maun, we began trudging to the Audi camp offices, listed in our handy Lonely Planet guide. We arrived a half hour later only to discover that the office had moved two years ago. Oops. Thanks Lonely Planet 2005. But I came across a man on the premises who offered to drive us the 10km out of town. Score, another kind stranger. And we couldn't believe our eyes when we arrived. This was THE swankest camping I've ever seen, with permanent luxury tents overlooking the water, a gourmet restaurant, and at least 10 different wines by the glass. Sweet. There was a lot of lounging around in style to be had for those couple of nights.

After a 7 hour shuttle ride (we had it all to ourselves ... well, until the driver picked up some hitchhikers to line his pockets a little) and 11 hours on an overnight train from Windohoek, Namibia (a luxury train compared to the ones in Zim, with heat and lights, though no sleepers, and an airing of the highly acclaimed "Kung Pow"), we are now in the coastal town of Swakopmund, now famous for being the birthplace of baby Brangelina. First impressions of Nambia ... a relatively strong economy, sharply dressed folks, quaint architecture (German influence), along with the shacks, pollution and garbage I've seen most everywhere else in southern Africa. Our train paused for a good 15 mintues by an informal settlement outside Swakopmund, as a strong reminder after leaving the picturesque city of Windhoek, that there is always another side to life here.

And we are having an amazing time here. But I will update you later on exactly what we've been getting up to, hopefully with some photos ... there will be a few shocking stories for you, have no doubt. Details to come soon .... :)

Love to all,

Allison

Typical conversation between Laura and Christina

Scene: 11 am on Wednesday, July 5. Laura and Christina are sitting in the sun on the lawn of their hostel.


Laura: Hey Christina, what do you have planned to do this afternoon?

Christina: Well, I was thinking of going on an Elephant Safari where I get to ride on the back of an elephant for 2 hours. Wanna come?

Laura: Hmmm, let me consult my calendar. Tomorrow morning I have a white-water rafting appointment on the Zambezi river just downstream from Victoria Falls.

Christina: Wow! I hear that's one of the Seven (Natural) Wonders of the World (thanks Laura's dad). Maybe I'll come too. And then we can go check out the Falls from inside the National Park.

Laura: That sounds like a great idea! And then how 'bout we finish it off with an African-style buffet dinner with live dancing and music? In fact, I think I know someone who wants to take us out to do that!

Christina: Wow, how cool is that? Free buffet dinner, probably my favorite thing on earth. Next to cuddling lion cubs, that is.

Laura: Funny you should mention that. I made us a date with some lion cubs on Friday afternoon. Hope you don't mind. I figure we can go hug them after trading all our old clothes for market arts and crafts.

Christina: Sweet! I sure have a lot of old, dirty clothes I never want to see again. We sure are having an amazing time, aren't we? I think we should celebrate.

Laura: How?

Christina: How 'bout an all-you-can-drink sunset cruise of some kind? On the Zambezi, perhaps?

Laura: You are full of great ideas. That'll be a great way to celebrate before we fly back to Harare on Saturday. But it sounds expensive.

Christina: Hmmmmm.

Laura: Oh! I know! How 'bout we do ALL of the stuff we just talked about for only half price? I think our adopted family just hooked us up!

Christina: Yay Tumazos'!

Laura: Yay Cathy!

Together: Yay Zimbabwe! To the elephants!!!!!!!!

Striking It Out On Our Own

BEWARE: This one is long.

Phew! It's been a long time cause the internet situation has been a bit dire. But here we are, safe and sound, with a whole week's worth of stories to share. I believe we left you in Harare, so we'll start from there.

Despite being prepared for a long, toiletless, cramped ride to Bulawayo, we ended up riding in style on a luxury coach with a tea service! Sure the cream in the bottom of the tea was solid, but hey, Christina still managed not to puke. We were also very pleasantly surprised by our hostel in Bulawayo, who picked us up ON TIME in a sweet safari-mobile (i.e. elevated seats mounted on back of pick-up truck) for our own Welcome to Bulawayo private parade (we were the main attraction, or so we figured). The lodge was clean, the dorms consisted of 2 beds each (yay private rooms!) and we soon came to call it 'home'. That night we went out for what is quickly becoming our pattern: beer, World Cup soccer and fast friends. We finished it off with some live dancing that we're still not sure we understand. Maybe the pics will speak for themselves when we finally get them up ("high-speed" internet being a relative term).

At that hostel we met a super cool American dude named Zen who also intended to go to Masvingo the next morning to see Great Zimbabwe the next day. Great Zimbabwe is a 600 year-old ruin of civilization which Zen credited as being the first bureaucracy in Africa (he's an anthropologist). So early that morning we headed to the Bulawayo bus station to find a ride. The place was pure chaos, with people everywhere selling everything (including David Beckham sponsored Cola flavoured toothpaste from somewhere in Asia) and everyone wanting to know where we were from. We learned an important lesson about how to interact with the locals, and disarm the more persistent salesmen, by watching Zen's easy-going manner. Soon we were embroiled in conversation after conversation, which mostly went like this:
1. Where are you from?
2. How is Canada? (We get this one from EVERYONE. What do you say to that?)
3. It's cold there, no?
4. If I were to come to Canada, would I be able to eat maize?
5. Can you get me a job in Canada?
6. Can I have your phone number?
7. Oh, you have no phone number? Then can I give you my phone number?
8. Oh, you have no phone? Then can I give you my email address? (We have about 20 people's addresses/phone numbers/email addresses)

We got really lucky at the bus station (as we found out later) as the next bus leaving for Masvingo, a 4 hour ride away, was a mini luxury coach. No tea service, but lots of leg room. We arrived in town at night to the grossest hostel ever. But there were 2 other Canadians there! And it was fun to hook up with other travellers having not seen very many in this part of the world. Before hitting the sack, we headed out to Eddie's, a restaurant owned by the uncle of some guy Laura met on the bus over. We met who we thought was Eddie, based largely on his loud, managerial-seeming tie. The restaurant adjoined a bar playing late 90s hip hop (yeah Mase, Puffy and Biggie), filled with dry ice smoke and a cheesy spinning disco ball. Needless to say, the 5 of us rocked that dance floor for all it was worth. Before leaving, we got invited home by "Eddie". We politely declined, but not getting the picture, he proceeded to proposition us both. Together. At the same time. Classy. Suddenly the crappy hostel didn't seem so bad :)

Step one the next morning was move hostels. And we found a great one for only $2.50/night after enjoying a "Canadian dish" at the breakfast restaurant (we took a picture to prove it). Being experts at managing local transport, us 2 and Zen boarded a mini-van to somewhere near Great Zimbabwe and made our own way the rest of the way. The Hilltop Complex was extra fun: think a huge fort with lots of secret winding passageways and amazing views. We took tons of pictures, and will try to load them some time soon. After visiting the Great Enclosure, we said a fond farewell to Zen and made our way back to Masvingo for the night. That evening we found out from the other 2 Canadians that the guy we thought was Eddie, wasn't Eddie at all. So now he's just some weird dude pretending to own a bar. Ick. We also found out that the first hostel we stayed at wasn't quite as creepy as we thought. Zen had left his camera charger there, which we all thought would be stolen/sold for sure, but instead, they had actually locked off their entire dining room to prevent anyone from touching it. Zimbabwe continues to surprise us at every turn.

We searched the bus station outside of Masvingo for another one of our favourite mini-bus coaches, but unfortunately there were none to be found, so we took the cheapest option instead. You really do get what you pay for. It was pretty much the most uncomfortable bus ride ever, but at least it was short(er). Thank goodness we gave our bodies one day to recuperate from that, because we were soon to embark on one of our most ridiculous schemes yet.

When we first got to Bulawayo, we had asked the hostel about renting bikes to bike to Matopo National Park, about 40 km away (no problem, right?). We were sent to find some woman at the National Art Gallery, but found some other woman there instead, who had a brother and a cousin who owned bikes. 4 days later, we're on those bikes, biking through the Zimbabwean country-side. Sure, the bikes are slightly too big and the seats are KILLING us, but hey, it's all part of the adventure. At least we thought so until we collapsed at the park gates. But we were finally there. So we saunter up to the park gates with a certified receipt from the Central Reserve Bank saying we exchanged some Rand for Zim dollars at the official rate. It's a bit confusing to explain, but having the official receipt allows us to pay in Zim dollars rather than US dollars, and with the parallel market rate being 3 times the bank rate, we end up getting in places for a third of the price. As you can see, we've been doing a lot of head math! So, we pull out our receipt at the gate, and the guy shakes his head. Seeing right through out little scheme, he informs us that he will have to keep our bank receipt if we want to use it, but without that receipt, we lose all its perks. In the alternative, he told us he would charge us as temporary residents if we gave him a cut "for the sake of corruption". Our first bribe! Seeing as we were saving tons of money anyway, we were happy to oblige.

We biked about 9 km into the park before our legs and butts refused to take us any further. We had thankfully reached the closest site to the gate: the White Rhino cave paintings. But we couldn't actually make the whole hike up to the paintings until we collapsed at a viewpoint along the way and ate some food. We were beat! Thank goodness it turned out the cave paintings were only another 10 metres up the path from where we decided to call it quits. With Cecil Rhodes' grave, our hypothetical next destination, being another 7 km into the park, time and energy just wouldn't allow it. So we headed back along the road, moaning and groaning. About 15 km into the ride home, we finally managed to flag down a pick-up truck. Probably not the safest, but it was that or spend the night on the side of the highway passed out in a ditch somewhere. Besides, at this point, we felt pretty comfortable with local transport, and the roads are pretty much deserted thanks to the petrol situation. The ride was much appreciated and we were further rewarded for our hitch-hiking efforts when we drove past a herd of more than 20 elephants cruising through the veld. Summary of bike ride: we biked 45 km in one direction, and only 15 km home. Sweet!

The next stage of the adventure will be Vic Falls, the most tourist-filled part of the country. We feel lucky to have first seen the real Zimbabwe. People really appreciate the effort we've made to travel through Zimbabwe. We are told on a regular basis that while the people are aware of the political problems and the challenges involved (lack of electricity, worthless currency, etc.), they are touched that we're here. But the effort expended has been minimal as compared to the rewards we've received and it's us who are truly touched to have been received so warmly. We both feel that this trip has taught us a lot about what it is to be a good human being.

Much love,

C&L

Friends, Flounders, and Falls

So much to tell you, so not sure where to begin. I’ll start off by pointing out that my last entry was written a few days prior to its actual publication, due to the granny computers at Antelope Park. By the middle of my stay there I was well aware of the fact that I was in a bit of a jam financially. That’s putting it mildly. You see, in Zim, as I discovered only upon my arrival here, it doesn’t matter how much money you’ve got in the bank; if you’re a foreigner without foreign currency (“forex”), you are SOL accommodations-wise. Nothing prepared me for this rather harsh reality, and if it hadnt’t been for the generosity of Thando’s family in Bulawayo, Thundi’s family friends in Victoria Falls, and total strangers along the way, I would have been without a roof over my head many times. There’s nothing like backpacking to teach you it’s okay to ask for help. And yet it is thse very predicaments that have made for some of my most memorable moments here ....

On leaving Antelope Park, which is about 15 km outside of town, I was hoping to catch a lift into town for free, with money being as tight as it is. But no, the manager insisted that this would require $10US or R70, the bag. On hearing this, my guide advised that I hike out of the park with him on foot and then hitch a ride into town. To me the prospects of seeing some more wildlife up close (and hitching my first ride) sounded very thrilling, so I agreed, and we headed out after breakfast. Fortunately for what would have been my very weary feet, another guide, Lovemore, was passing by in a pickup to collect fuel. So Joseph and I climbed in the back, with dirty oil drums and all. I took 2 photos of that ride, and I look as elated as a little kid in Disneyland, I tell you. We collected about 4 more guys along the way before we reached the highway, at which point I asaid goodbye to Joseph, and Lovemore let me move to the front (admittedly, I was relieved not to have to ride in the bed of a truck on an African highway). I was dropped in town, where I began Mission Impossible IV: Operation Acquire Forex. I went from bank to bank, asking if I could purchase forex. I must have looked like a total moron to these people, trying to get the most coveted good in Zim. “Is she joking?” each teller’s face read. And so at bank #3, again hearing no, I turned to a man next to me and asked point blank, “do YOU know how to get forex in this town?” This man had an instant look of concern. He then took it upon himself to locate someone willing to sell, for ZIM$70,000 per R1. Ouch. But what choice did I have, really? He recommended that I shop around the street for another dealer, but the Lonely Planet specifically states about 10 times, “whatever you do, don’t change on the street.” It’s illegal to change outside banks and bureau de changes, but foreigners are left with little choice, aren’t they? (Plus, the bank rate is only ZIM$15,000, whereas on the street its anywhere between ZIM$50,000 and $70,000.) And though these were desperate times, I knew this wasn’t a good idea. As a single white female pounding the pavement with a giant pack on my back, I was a little less than inconspicuous to the local residents and cops. So I proceeded to stand in a 30 minute queue for the ATM, prepared to buy. (The queues at banks are very long because you can only take out ZIM$2,000,000 at time, about the equivalent of less thank $8 CAN, which you can take out 5 times for a daily max of ZIM$9.5 million.) My white knight (um, another White Farmer), waiting patiently for me to go through this process, decided I mustn’t further waste my money. His solution: to drive to this farm while I stood in line at the bank, to grab R100 to lend to me, a total stranger, with the understanding that I would repay his wife who works in Bulawayo on my return there. Can you believe that? I must have said thank you ten times, as R100 could cover me for 2 nights of accommodations. A few days later, when I returned to Bulawayo, both he and his wife dropped by my lodge, and they were both so gracious. He then insisted that if I come through the city again, I must stay with his wife! But I digress ….

The original plan was to head from Gweru to Masvingo, to tour ancient ruins at the Great Zimbabwean Monument. But alas, the tourism gods were once again against me; most national parks also require forex, and at R120 with only R190 in my pocket, venturing further into rural Zim virtually penniless was just too scary a prospect. I called my Zim friend Thando, who also didn’t have a good feeling about it, and we agreed I should retun to the city. I was still feeling adventurous, so I ventured down to the taxi ranks and looked for some young women to help me track me down a ride to Bulawayo. There I met a very kind local named Hazel, hoping to attend law school in Gweru, and also the only Mormon I’ve met in Africa so far (though I spotted some missionaries in Moz). We took, what my friends tell me, was a “chicken” or “shoeshine” bus, a really grungy thing where they pack people in, including the aisles, and everyone’s luggage sits on their laps. It was hilarious!!! I was squished against poor Hazel, and someone’s bag sat on my head for most of the journey. In Bulawayo, once again, Thando’s brother picked me up and her wonderful parents put me up at the beautiful Motsamai Lodge.

Thando, Nikita, Thundi and I soon headed to Vic Falls via an overnight train – our first class tickets got us a sleeper-cabin with no heat or lights, but we were comfortable and slept like babies nevertheless. You wouldn’t believe how starry the night sky appeared, and the clankety clank of the train on the rails was, well, magical. When we arrived the next morning, greeted by Thundi’s kind friend, Anold, we met up with Thando’s boyfriend, dear sweet Simba, and his boisterous accounting buds, who were in town attending a convention at the lovely Elephant Hills Hotel, where Anold is General Manager. Knowing someone in a convention (and the General Manager) comes with perks, including free food and a free all-you-can-drink sunset cruise on the Zambezi River with hippos and crocs (and man, can accountants-in-training give law students a run for their money!).

The girls and Simba left on a 4 a.m. bus this morning. I said goodbye last night, and Simba presented me with a beautiful handmade wallet he made from elephant skin (elephants are culled in some parts of Africa due to over-population). I couldn’t help but tear up, it was such a lovely gesture. I have already transferred all my thinkgs into it, and for years will have it as an everyday reminder of my incredible experiences and the incredible people here.

Today I await Heather and Justina’s arrival to Vic Falls, set for tomorrow morning. They’re currently in Jo’burg. We’ll have an action-packed few days here whitewater rafting, checking out the Falls, getting spa treatments and pedicures, curio chopping, and maybe even parasailing. Hey, Vic Falls is the Disneyland of Zim with overland trucks (organized tours) galore, so there won’t be much roughing it here, nor all that much wildlife viewing (thought we’ve come across many wart hogs and buffalo roaming the streets). In a few days, we’re off to the Okavango Delta in Botswana, where I’ve been told we’re in for the most beautiful sights of our lives. I choose to reserve judgment until we get there, however, as I’ve learned you must do here. Sometimes you find beauty in the most unexpected places ….

Peace and love,

Allison

Animals Galore

Hey y'all,

Coming to you live from rural Zimbabwe. I arrived a few days ago to a private game park called Antelope Park near Gweru. The Park runs a lion-breeding programme endorsed by the World Wildlife Fund for the release of lions into the wild. They breed them and then train the young to hunt and all that jazz. I wil be checking out the cubs this afternoon, though I'm a bit sore from a safari on horseback yesterday. I went out for a couple hours with a private guide and got a phenomenal perspective of some of the wildlife indigenous to these parts. You wouldn't believe how close you get to the animals on horse, as the animals are all very accustomed to one another. The horses graze out amongst them when they're not saddled up. Imagine being in the middle of a swirling herd of wildebeests or galloping alongside running giraffes. I never thought I'd experience such a thing. Witnessing giraffes in full trot, you can see an entire chain of muscles working their way up, from their legs to the top of their necks, almost as if they're moving in slow motion. Breathtaking.

I arrived to Gweru by bus "with black people," a fact which some locals have difficulty grasping and makes me feel strange explaining … like I'm supposed to be rich enough to afford a rental car, or something. Locals also think it's bizarre that I'm traveling alone … this statement is almost always followed by 3 questions: "aren't you scared? … how old are you? … aren't you married?" When I tell them, "no, 26, and no!" they say, "Ish, no … really?!?" Our conversations, of course, go much deeper than this, and I've met some fascinating characters.

One employee at the park, Moses Kevin, dreams of attending the University of Toronto, like his father did in the 1970s. when he heard there was a Canadian law student at the camp, he searched all over the park to talk to me. He's a bright articulate guy just trying to make ends meet with the hope of going to school in Canada. And I never thought I'd meet one of the so-called White Farmers evicted from their land recently by some neigbours with Mugabe's blessing. They arrived home one day to find their tractors embedded in the walls of their home and everything gone or destroyed. He received no compensation for the seizure of a farm that had been in his family for generations.

My time in Bulawayo, a sleepy town of 1 million, was a good mix of meeting Thando's friends and their families and just seeing Zim urban life. there are few cars on the road and surprisingly few queues considering the scarcity of necessities (though I had to stand in a 20 minute lineup for the ATM in Gweru, taking $2, 000, 000 out at a time, 5 times!). But as Thando told me, it has a very different feel than just a few years ago. she says people have started to give up and you can see it in their gait and appearance. yet I wouldn't have guessed it, as Zimbabweans seem so jovial, even laughing when they tell you about how hopeless life has become. with unemployment at a reported 75% and inflation at 2000%, I can only imagine. I spent my whole 15 minute cab ride to the bus station counting out the ZIM$2,500,000 fare.

The night before I left for Gweru I was invited to a braii in honour of the cousin of Simba, Thando's boyfriend, who was getting married in a few days. Southern Africans love their meat, but I chowed down on coleslaw and sadza - think a cross between potato and maize. They had a stereo pumping incredible African hip hop, so we all busted some moves that night. They were more than a little surprised to see a white girl gettin' down with the rest of them and howled in delight at my enthusiasm. They insisted Thando gave me lessons, and it took repeated assurances that it's a common misconception that white people can't dance. They did not believe me. They were fantastic hosts and I feel fortunate to have met them all.

Love,

Allison

All in the Family

Well, except Thursday night, when we gave our poor adoptive parents a bit of a break from their new 26 year-old kids :) It also gave us the chance to explore Harare nightlife a bit, Harare being a bit like Durban…not much of a nightlife downtown, but lots of fun if you know where to go. On Karen’s recommendation, we checked out the Keg & Maiden, a sports pub just a $1.50 cab ride from our hotel. We were thrilled to discover that not only was the World Cup on, but Ghana (the only African team that qualified) was busy beating the socks off of none other than the U.S. of A.! The place was packed, and we made friends quickly. One in particular, Tich, sat with us through two soccer games. His friends, however, seemed a little shy, giving Tich his space to be “the Man.” By the end of the second soccer game, we were ready for a different scene, so we headed to the Mannenberg for some live jazz. Tich treated us pretty much the entire night, cementing our notion that people in Harare are very kind.

Exhibit C of this generosity came with the Tumazos’ invitation to head up to the Nyanga mountain range to spend the weekend at their cottage on a lake. Much relaxing in front of the fire and roasting of marshmallows ensued. To work off the marshmallows (and cookies, and hot chocolate, etc. etc.), we decided to go for a walk around the area, which included a short hike up a ‘mountain’ peak at a place aptly named World’s View. We started off feeling really good; the sun was shining and the temperature was perfect. By Hour Four, we were ready for some lunch, but we couldn’t figure out where we came from despite being on a circular road. What we could figure out was that we had been where we were once before, and we had photographic evidence to prove it. Turned out we had overshot the cottage by a solid 25 minutes. Typical Laura and Christina hiking: we tend to push past Enjoyable, through Alright I’m finished now and clear into Please make it stop. But eventually we uncovered our mistake and made it back to Home Sweet Someone Else’s Home.

Later that afternoon, Dino kindly took us for a little car trip to go check out the nearby river, where apparently there is some excellent trout fishing, although we didn’t try what with the fading light and the fact that Michael and Dino had already managed to catch a couple in the lake. Dinner was an adventure in cooking without electricity, but Christina and Dino pulled through on a jimmy-rigged gas contraption, producing a delicious Chicken Cacciatore. The highlight of our last day was a drive through the unknown in search of waterfalls. Thanks in no small part to Christina’s compass (well, according to her anyway), we managed to find some stunning views and had a lovely picnic.

Tomorrow we take off for Bulawayo, in the midlands. Having been introduced to Zimbabwe in a way we could never have imagined, we are ready to confront the next part of our adventure through this lovely (if electrically challenged) country. We’ll be a lot more self-reliant in Buluwayo, and may even attempt to take the dreaded chicken busses if we find a place to stash our valuables. But we have to admit it gives us great comfort to know we can always call Karen and Dino for a little friendly advice if we need it.

Thank You, Tumazos Family!

Love,
C&L

Happy Happy Harare

Wow! What a journey. Laura and Christina, coming to you from some random travel agency somewhere near downtown Harare, Zimbabwe! We've been adopted by a suburban family. What are we talking about, you may ask? Well, let's start from the beginning...

Getting out of Durban was absolutely crazy. Between the 7000 word papers, 7000 bags of recycling and 7 million other errands, it was non-stop action. We left the house at 8am (admittedly) for pedicures and massages, and Christina finished packing at about 2. AM. The next morning. But the house looked good, and our friend made off not only with our speakers but with four bags of food and a bottle of whiskey.

To everyone's surprise, we made it to the airport Tuesday morning, thanks to a crisp 6:15am rise from bed. It's a good thing we gave ourselves a long layover in Jo'burg on the way to Harare, because our plane in Durban was delayed. Technical difficulties? No. A catering truck had burst into flames on the tarmac. Just another day at Durban International, we're sure. The layover was also handy because apparently it takes about 3hours of effort, four mathematicians and about 8 calculating devices to buy US dollars. But it happened.

Having exchaged all her Rand into dollars, Laura wanted to grab some more money from an ATM before boarding a plane to Harare. Unfortunately, although in retrospect not surprisingly, there are NO ATMs in the international terminal.?! So, with 20 minutes to board the plane, Laura had to woo her way back through immigration by claiming that it's impossible to use ATMs in Harare. This is at least 80% true. So she checked out of immigration, checked back in, and made it just in time to sit on a bus waiting to get to the plane for 30 minutes. Again, it did happen, but our exhaustion had really started to get the better of us. Good thing we're seasoned traveller vets...

The flight to Harare was uneventful, especially for Christina who passed out cold. This forced Laura to look elsewhere for advice as to what to put on the landing card which asked how much money we were carrying in cash. Real value: $500 US each. What Laura thought she should put: $20? She looked around, and saw a nice looking lady sitting across the aisle and back a row. She politely asked her question, and was told to put 200...Rand. She turned to tell Christina, only to receive a tap on the shoulder. Apparently on the basis of our appearance, accents and ignorance, this lady had become very concerned. She asked us our plans, and became even more concerned (our plans amounted to going to tourist information at the airport and asking them for a plan. Note to selves: Harare Airport has no tourist information). So Karen, the lady, gave us her card with her phone number and told us to call if we needed any help. Laura turns to tell this to Christina, only to receive another tap on the shoulder. On second thought, Karen thought it would be better if we just came home with her and her husband, Dino. Having discovered that our "plan" was completely ridiculous, we happily accepted the invitation.

"Home" turned out to be a BEAUTIFUL place in the suburbs of Harare, not too far from Bob's house (Robert Mugabe to those of you not in the know). We were welcomed with open arms, given a room and left to play with the dogs and kids while mom made dinner. We strolled through the backyard and admired the pool and tennis court with two Milk Stouts in hand (courtesy of Karen). We played Uno in front of a fire with Michael (7 yrs) and Nicola (9 yrs). We showed Michael where we lived on a world map. We were totally one of the family! We figure we were officially adopted after working with Karen and Dino on Nicola's school project, while Nicola slept. We chatted about their old backpacking days when they did a trip around the world. They could totally relate to our situation on the plane. They'd been helped in their time and we'll be sure to carry that torch too. Forty clothespins (decorated by Christina and Karen) and 13 packs of 5 cards each later (hole punched by Laura, packed by Dino), we called it a night. At 9 pm. But it FELT like 3 am. We slept like the dead in Nicola's super comfy bed and woke up to head in to town with Karen the next morning.

Karen works for a travel agency and took us into her office complex to help us organize the rest of our trip. With the help of a really nice lady, we made a million phone calls to every bus station and train station in Harare. Two hours later, we had WAY more of a clue of what's going on! With hook-ups all over to boot! Finally free of planning the trip we should have planned a month ago, we hoofed it into town to see what Harare was all about.

We were only there a couple of hours, but here are a few quick impressions:
-Feels really safe to walk around and it's WAY cleaner than Mapoto.
-People are really friendly.
-More relaxed than South Africa - racially, there is way less of a divide and you don't have to be ultra-paranoid to pull out your cash, which is a good thing, because if you were trying to hide this amount of cash, you'd need to be wearing a burka. Seriously, we exchanged about $45 US total, and ended up with a stack of cash 5 inches high. Breakfast cost us $4 million, about $10 US. The picture will tell the tale. It's hilarious!!! And arithmetically challenging to say the least. Neither of us learned the 350,000 division table in elementary school.
-Definitely felt like a minority walking around downtown. I think we saw one other white person downtown the entire time. But everyone we interacted with has been more than sweet. The people here seem very open, warm, calm and grounded. It makes you feel really welcome.

We finished off the afternoon in Harare with lunch at Taste of Africa, a stall in a food court. As we were walking out, accompanied by our new friend Leslie who ate lunch with us, we were stopped by a woman at the Taste of Africa counter. She asked if we like sculpture. We cautiously replied in the affirmative. She proceeded to invite us into the bathroom to look at her sculpture. We cautiously accepted after some hesitation, having never been invited into a bathroom to do much of anything before. Turns out she makes beautiful rock scultpure and we bought 6 of them for $7 US. Why did we have to buy sculpture in the bathroom, you ask? Well ...

The social, economic and political situation in Zim is a bit of a mess. In fact, it is a HUGE mess. Let's see ... a few months, Bob decided to clean up the informal sector. By clean up, we mean he used the army to drive people to shut down their market stalls and tear down any and all informal homes. What was once a bustling local economy selling crafts and art is now non-existent in public. Banned, in fact. This situation was explained to us on our drive in from the airport with Dino and we got further glimpses into the daily challenges of living here when the lights went off at Karen and Dino's and we were forced to fire up the generator. The generator sits in the house to prevent it from getting stolen. They are attempting to build something to keep it safe, but they (a) can't find cement anywhere and (b) have no idea how to cost cement in light of the inflation. And these are the "haves". We heard stories about their houselady whose rent is being raised almost daily, making it impossible for her to make ends meet. Office building aren't immune either, which we discovered when we tried to use the toilets in Karen's building but there was no water "for whatever reason". There also appears to be a bread shortage due to the central economic planning power insisting that bakers sell bread for less than they can actually bake it for, due to the flour shortage. Yet despite these difficulties life goes on and people persist, as our toilet transactions demonstrated. And throughout it all, the people are smiling.

Our short term plan is to head into the mountains on Friday with Karen, Dino and the kids for a weekend of cabinning :). Our original plan had been to camp in caves in the National Park ... until Dino informed us that we were insane. This is the coldest time of year and Chrisitna's fleece blanket and my summer sleeping bag just wouldn't cut it. So instead, we were invited to join them. These people are incredibly generous. Hopefully these stories give you some sort of insight into just how lucky we feel.

So know that things are absolutely AWESOME, everything's falling into place, and pictures are on the way soon!

Cheers m'dears!

C&L

Cruising "Josie" ... oops, "Jozi"

I arrived yesterday to Joburg after a long 7 hours in a toiletless coach baking at close to 30 degrees (South Africans hate to be "cold"). I, of course, considered asking the driver to turn the heat down, but didn't want to brand myself as the resident complaining American. So I bit my tongue and sweat it out. But at least I made it here, for $25 no less. Yesterday morn I wasn't sure I would. The buslines have some strange rationale for not accepting int'l credit cards, so, knowing there were only a few seats left on the 11 a.m. bus, I could only hope there'd be one left when I arrived to the station. There were two, actually. But the man directly in front of me in the queue bought them both, go figure. Ish. So off I went door to door to the other liners. Thankfully, the very last one I tried had an 11 a.m.'er as well. Ha! So off I went with a little extra cash in my pocket for taking the budget special (i.e. no toilets, no refreshments or snacks). I'll take budget anyday, thank you (well, a toilet would be nice ...), but do these people know how to do bus trips, or what? ... movies, attendants, and all. Park Station in Joburg looks like an airport.

And am I ever glad the first bus didn't work out because I met some really interesting characters on my trip. One 50+ year old man thought for some reason (something I said probably) that I had just run the Comrades, an 89 km foot race from Durban to Pietermartizberg. He, only running for 4 years, ran it in 10 hours and 43 minutes ... with an injury. There's hope for us all, isn't there?

And then there was Joe, a soft- but well-spoken young dude from Zambia. At first I was a little scepitcal of this guy, who plunked down next to me after jumping on at a set of lights near the station without a ticket. A few hours later I discovered the driver likes to make side deals with young guys with little baggage, pocketing the fare for himself. Joe and I soon got to talking. He told me he had spent the night at the bus station after his buddy, who he had come all the way from Botswana to collect a debt from, stood him up. So I'm thinking, okay, what's the deal .... More stories emerge and Joe becomes increasingly mysterious. I tell him so a couple hours in, to which he takes offence a little. So he proceeds to open his whole life up to me, and I soon realized this guy is the real deal. What didn't we talk about? I mean, once you go down the path of "what does Jesus Christ mean to your life," well, then, things are pretty much free game. We talked for 7 hours straight. A good guy, that one is - so much so I hooked him up with a room at my hostel.

Our arrival to the hostel was chaotic to say the least - not a single person, staff included, was less than hammered. A bunch of red necks, really. One man snarled in our direction within less than 10 seconds of arriving, "is that your boyfrieeend?!?" So Joe and I excused ourselves and walked over to the Rosebank district, one of the few areas in town safe to walk at night - a really beautiful area. We weren't surprised when, on our return from dinner at 10 pm, there was no one sober enough to answer the bell. So I proceeded to scale a 20 foot gate - a breeze (and jolly good time) really - as, to my surprise, there was no barbed wire to keep us out. I expected all of Joburg to be blanketed in the barbz.

So it was an early night for me, exhaused from the past week of staring at computer screens under fluorescent lights for so long that my eyes actually started to get wonked. But I was up and at 'em bright and early this morn, writing you this entry over breakfast and espresso in trendy Melville. The sun is shining, the air a little crisp, like a fall or spring day in Victoria (and sweet, I get to wear my blue puffs). I've noticed from my brief time here that Jo'burgers like to dress to kill ... I mean, it's a Sunday morn and these people look like they're ready to go clubbing. Anyways, I'm thinking of hitting up some live jazz in Newtown tonight myself, after I buy a new shirt (just spilt coffee all over Mr. Trudeau). But first over to Braamfontein to cruise what's happening there. It's dang expensive cabbing around this city, so I'm in for the long haul today, to get my money's worth out of the ride into town. I can't be bothered to taxi here, as I know I'm going to be doing it for the next two weeks. But I'm looking forward to saving a little cash once I cross into Zim ... oh, and to a bed that isn't lumpy and a room that hasn't just been spray-bombed for bugs ... what bugs, I'm not sure (before coming to SA, I never imagined I could be so tolerant of insects ... I'm practically a warrior). Backpacker's Ritz it is for us, Heather.
A'ight, so I'm safe and sound in the big city.

Love to all,

Allison

Saying, "Goodbye, South Africa! Hello, Zim, Zam & Nam!!"

Wow, I can't believe the end of the semester is finally here. It seems like it was just yesterday that we were sitting around mulling over the notion of "only two more months!" By "only" I, of course, don't mean "only two more months until we get to go home" ... because I haven’t been counting down the days to get out of here, or anything. It's just hard to believe we've been here for so many months, and now we’re free to wander wherever our hearts take us.

And our hearts are taking the three of us in quite different directions: I’m heading up to explore the western part of Zim for about a week or so, to visit friends and swim with elephants and lions in Gweru … oh yeah, baby, you heard me … I’m reserving judgment until I see what it looks like. If it’s a giant circus with wild animals in captivity for profit, well, then, I’m not so sure I can get down with that. But it sounds pretty mystical, and I’m looking forward to just being in their midst, waking up to lions roaring and elephants splashing … okay remember, Allison, it isn't Disneyland.

Then I’m heading north with friends to one of the Seven Natural Wonders, Victoria Falls, where Zim meets Zambia, Botswana, and Namibia. There, my sister, Heather, and pal Justina are flying in a couple of weeks before Heather begins a rotation at a hospital in Jo’burg. The plan is to cruise the Caprivi-Vic Falls region, where Thando and I have pledged to throw ourselves down the rapids of the Zambezi. I’m sure it’s no Elk River in a flimsy six-person dingy, but it’ll sure be cool to say I’ve had a face full of Zambezi. Like cruising down the Nile, just … cool. And thanks to a local hook-up, we’re also not going to be robbed blind by the hotel industry up there, which charges, like, US$100 per person per night. I know! WHAT is up with that?! Give me the $4 bed-bug special any day … Okay, the $8 bed-bug-free special. The whole sitch in Zim will be a little bizarre, with inflation reaching 2000% last week. I have NO idea what that even looks like. Apparently CAN$100 looks like ZIM$9,000,000.

From Zim, somehow we’ll duck down to the Okavango Delta for some world-renowned wildlife viewing in what’s probably the most expensive country in southern Africa, Botswana … needless to say, we won’t be staying long on my budget. Heather and Justina, well they get a pay check every month. We’ve already worked out a compromise: while they stay in private rooms, I’ll stay in dorms, but get to stash my stuff in their locked rooms. Totally sweet.

I don’t know how on earth we’re going to swing getting between Zim and Bots. We’ll apparently be cabbing to the border, then taking a kombie ride for a really, really long time. Well, we’ve got to do it at least once, don’t we? Still haven’t figured out the Bots to Land of Brangelina thing either, but it’ll all fall into place, I’m sure. Flying down the dunes of the Kalahari Desert on a sandboard or quad while overlooking the ocean doesn’t sound half bad, does it? Well, if it’s good enough for Brad and Angelina, it’s good enough for me. Uh, yeah. Then it’s back to Josie for us, to hit that city up for all it’s worth. I’m talking cruising the largest township in the country, Soweto, and storming the halls of the Constitutional Court (I mean, I have to at least see it, with all the constitutionalism talk that’s been going on in our house these past few months … I mean, Sachs J … how cool is that guy?!?). … oh, and I’ll be stuffing my bags with as many new clothes as they can handle. Hey, our dollar is practically on steroids right now. It’d be a shame for it to go to waste, right?

So, as you can see, I won’t actually be saying, “Goodbye, South Africa, hello Zim, Zam and Nam,” as the title of this entry indicates. It should be more like, “Check ya later, South Africa, hello Zim, Bots, and Nam.” So I took some artistic license, so what? Yes, I’ve updated the album with some real gems from my time here, including from my latest trip to the children’s home and a toxic tour with my Pollution Control Law class, which was an excursion to parts of the city I wouldn’t have otherwise gotten a chance to see. I was so relieved that I got to say goodbye to the kids. It had been a few weeks since I saw them last, and I thought it’d be nice to surprise them with some parting gifts (chalks, stickers, and 5 bouncy balls). It was such an incredible afternoon, spent drawing on the cement, taking photos, balls flying through the air, and just taking in the whole experience of working with these kids these last three months. It has most definitely been a highlight for me, and I wish I had seen them more. There has also been a lesson to learn: I should give myself a little more credit when it comes to little ones. I ain’t so bad at it. Hopefully the days of Ceili recoiling in fear when I enter the room are over! Ceili, promise me …!

Okay, I must go finish off my packing now. I’m off to Josie in the morn (well, if there are any seats left on the bus … they don’t accept international credit cards for reservations in this country … geesh). Just 20 hours of bus rides separate me from Zim. Laura and Christina are being much more sensible about the whole thing and flying in …. Well, thank goodness for Sudokos.

Safe travels, Laura and Christina. Take care, all.

Peace and love,

Allison

You are proudly South African when ...

We gotta give a shout out to our friend Ed (our Cape Town hero) for sending us this one. Priceless!

1. You produce a R100 note instead of your driver's licence when stopped by a traffic officer
2. You can do your monthly shopping on the pavement
3. You have to hire a security guard whenever you park your car
4. To get free electricity you have to pay a connection fee of R750
5. Hijacking cars is a profession
6. You can pay your tuition fees by holding up a sign at a traffic light
7. The petrol in your tank may be worth more than your car
8. More people vote in a local reality TV show than in a local election
9. People have the most wonderful names: Christmas, Goodwill, Pretty, Wednesday, Blessing, Brilliant, Gift, Precious, Innocence and Given
10. "Now now" can mean anything from a minute to a month
11. You continue to wait after a traffic light has turned to green to make way for taxis travelling in the opposite direction
12. Travelling at 120 km/h you're the slowest vehicle on the highway
13. You're genuinely and pleasantly surprised whenever you find your car parked where you left it
14. A bullet train is being introduced, but we can't fix potholes
15. The last time you visited the coast you paid more in speeding fines and toll fees than you did for the entire holiday
16. You have to take your own linen with you if you are admitted to a government hospital
17. You have to prove that you don't need a loan to get one
18. Prisoners go on strike
19. You don't stop at a red traffic light, in case somebody hijacks your car
20. You consider it a good month if you only get mugged once
21. Rwandan refugees start leaving the country because the crime rate is too high
22. When 2 Afrikaans TV programmes are separated by a Xhosa announcement of the following Afrikaans program
23. The employees dance in front of the building to show how unhappy they are
24. The SABC advertises and shows highlights of the program you just finished watching
25. You get cold easily. Anything below 16 degrees Celsius is Arctic weather
26. You call a bathing suit a "swimming costume"
27. You know what Rooibos Tea is, even if you've never had any
28. You can sing your national anthem in four languages, and you have no idea what it means in any of them
29. You know someone who knows someone who has met Nelson Madela
30. You go to "braais" regularly, where you eat boerewors and swim, sometimes simultaneously

You have NOT been served

Hi all,

Just a quick post to share a little anecdote which I thought, and Laura heartily agreed, was probably one of the best single examples of the service in South Africa so far. It's got everything: total unfamiliarity with the product being sold, dour and clueless waiting staff with only a vague grasp of English, a menu that has absolutely nothing to do with what the kitchen actually has in it, and frankly made-up responses to perfectly mundane and straightforward questions, all ending in me getting something I really didn't want at all.

I was so excited: I actually found a cafe with wireless internet! Hoorah! So I went one afternoon, dreaming of the perfect combination of caffeine, chocolate and online study space. The waitress eventually turned up and asked, in a distinctly disinterested tone, what I would like to order. Having not been offered a menu, I decided to hazard a guess that they had Earl Grey tea because it is quite common here and well, it's a cafe.

So I asked for a pot of Earl Grey tea and glass of tapwater. After a blank stare my waitress decided she had better get out a pen and paper to handle this one. Adjusting myself to her now-familiar skill-level, I decided to just start with the water. Okay, we had lift-off, she wrote down tap water. Now for the really confusing part, "Earl Grey tea."
"Ooo gway?"
"ER-LE GrAY. Tea."
"Tea."
"Yes, Earl Grey tea."
"Oh, I don't know."
"Okay, but you do have tea."
"Tea?"
"Yes, what kind of TEA do you have?"
"Cammomile, lemon, these kinds of things."
"What about black tea?"
"Black?"
"Yes, you know, Five Roses, Orange Pekoe..."
More blank staring. I finally gave up and asked for a menu. There, in plain print, were the words "Earl Grey Tea" which I could thankfully just point at to end this battle of wits. To her credit, she did subsequently manage to bring me a pot of tea AND tapwater. I was pleasantly surprised.

Menu now in hand and feeling deserving of some kind of chocolaty study-treat, I was enticed by the fudge brownie served with ice cream and chocolate sauce. Mmmmm... But I also made a mental note to ask about the "Variety of Cakes baked fresh daily" just in case they had something even better. Well, they didn't have any better cakes. Nor did they have any cakes. Nor did they have brownies, chocolate sauce for ice cream, or chocolate of any kind. My real choice, apparently, was between croissants and muffins. Disappointed, but really wanting something sweet, I asked what kind of muffins they had. I should have been suspicious when she did not actually go back to check. "Blueberry," she said, wihtout hesitation and in a voice of absolute authority. Momentarily, I was so taken-in by her sudden aura of competence that I even dared ask to have it heated.

Later, as I sat there dutifully swallowing my cold, cinnamon raisin muffin, I remembered the days when I would have sent it back and asked to speak to the manager. Thank you Africa, you have truly taught me patience.

:)Christina

Music Maaaaaaaaaaaaadness

Hey Kids,

Well, exam period is rolling along nicely with me (Laura) and Allison having written our undergrad Succession exam, and Christina having written Family Law. With only International Law left for Christina and Pollution Control Law left for Allison on the exam front, we're all anxiously counting down the days 'til we're free again! However, despite having to study and write papers, we still managed to fit a whole lotta fun into last week.

It started on Wednesday, when Christina and I went to see what we thought would be a high school talent show by my old camp friend, Marc. (Backtrack: I worked as a camp counsellor at a summer camp 4-5 years ago and there I met Marc Maurel, a guy from South Africa. When I found out I was coming here, I hunted him down and found out he was living in Jo'burg, but was originally from Durban.) He was being flown in by his old high school for this 40 year (or something) anniversary celebration where they asked him to sing a few songs in front of a crowd. I have to admit that when he invited us to go we were totally sceptical. The last time I set foot in a highschool was to use the bathroom. And the time before that, I was in highschool. And a highschool musical event? We all know how those usually go. So you'll be as surprised as we were to hear that it was INCREDIBLE. I mean, the talent was phenomenal. There's really no other word for it. The show was 3 hours long and I would have happily sat there for another 3 hours if there were more acts. Beside the consistently amazing vocalists, there was one dude who could play the violin AND beat-box and another group that sang a song about a Pharaoh getting it on with his Siamese cat (in front of a whole room full of parents! hilarious!).

The next fun musical event came on Saturday, when we went to a show-casing of Durban hip hop artists. The event happens monthly and was organized by a guy in my capoeira class (and probably other people too, but I never really found out). It was held in this old abandoned restaurant that a bunch of people had cleaned up after it got TOTALLY vandalized (like the vandals stole anything and everything containing aluminium vandalized). It made for a really cool space with a stage, the sun streaming through huge windows and an area in which to watch graffitti artists do what they do. The hip hop was rad with a few absolutely amazing MCs. The quarts of beer being sold by 'Mama Jabu' (who also owns the building) for $2 were a nicely added touch.

The week ended with a Sunday show at the Rainbow Cafe. You may remember it from earlier posts, and the video clips on the blog. We got there just in time to share a table with some random dude's sister, wife and kids. Christina, me and our friend Steve barely managed to fit in the booth too, but we made it. And the squeeze was well worth it, because the music was so rad. This one vocalist (see pics) looked like a witch doctor and had enough character to pull it all off. A few hours and two super cheap plates of food later, we headed back home to study (no quarts of beer this time cuz those sent us crashing the day before!). And the studying continues ... but Zimbabwe, here we come!

Lotsa love,

Laura

P.S. Pics of all this can be found in the Red Eye album that's been posted for awhile now.

P.P.S. Just kidding. There is no Red Eye album. I know I could have simply deleted the P.S. and avoided having to explain this, but I'm procrastinating so bear with me. The photos can actually be found in the 'Mega Music Madness' album.

Countdown in Durban

Strike a pose - Red Eye modern art exhibit
Originally uploaded by axlinafrica.

Greetings faithful blog-watchers,

Exams are descending, and as a result we don't have any more travel tales for you at the moment. Yet we're still managing to sneak out occassionally to take in a sight or sound or taste around Durbs. For example, this pic is from a really full-on modern art event which took over City Hall last Friday night called Red Eye. One of our local friends, Roger, casually mentioned that he had an exhibit in the show and we should stop by. Turned out he had an entire gallery all to himself with a crazy computer-based interactive display splashed all over the walls (which he totally deserved, Roger being one of the most creative and talented graphics design dudes ever. AND he makes wicked humus. Will the wonders never cease.). Other highlights included awesome stomp-style improvised percussion madness beaten out by five guys on a bunch of...well, garbage, as well as what could only be described as a Zulu barbershop quintet. Despite a slow start, it was a very entertaining evenning.

We've also managed to suss-out the absolute best place to get about a kilo of assorted uberdelicious vanilla-pudding-based cakes in a bowl for less than four dollars, and a fair featuring samosas, kitchenware and enlightenment. On the to-do list is another visit to the Rainbow Cafe for some more Sunday jazz, curry and quarts of beer, as well as chasing down a hot tip on a Pakistani restaurant (?) and an alternative rock club omniously known as 'Burn'. We'll keep you posted. (Get it? Of course you do.)

Future plans are to leave Durban mid-June and do some more border-crossing before we go. Allison's done early and is being joined by her sister, so it looks like plans are in the works for quite the trip. Laura and I are a bit more restricted, but plan to head for Zimbabwe June 20th and take it from there for about three weeks. So papers and exams for now, but lots to look forward to as usual!

Cheers for now!

Love,
Christina

PS. The last of the Mozambique pictures are up. Apologies for the delay.

Law Geeks Alert! Choice quotes from the South African Constitutional Court

Even those of you who aren't studying law can likely appreciate what we're about to throw down. Over the course of our time here, Christina and I (Laura) have had to read a number of South African Constitutional Court judgments for our Constitutional and Human Rights Litigation class. As is to be expected, we've come to recognize certain judges' styles and have discovered a common favorite: Sachs J. Why is he our favorite, you ask? Just read these quotes and tell me if YOU could keep a straight face if this was read out loud in court. Even the other judges appreciate his judgments. Case in point: he got a personal shout out from the majority in a 2001 Constitutional Court case where the J said, "I want to acknowledge the benefit and pleasure I derived from studying the dissent of my Colleague Sachs J before signing off this judgment." No doubt. Read on ...

1. "Section 9(2) [the affirmative action clause in the Constitution] should be seen as an integral and overacrching constitutional principle established by section 9, rather than as a discreet element within it that seves as an autonomous and sealed off launching-pad for State action. It would, in my view, do a disservice to section 9(2) to treat it as a fantastical constitutional device for leaping over the gritty hurdles of hard social reality and escaping from basic equality analysis. It is not a magic analytical slipper which, if no toes protrude, converts the wearer into a sovereign princess unrestrained by any notions of fairness and beyond the bounds of ordinary constitutional scrutiny."

That's right ladies. Don't go putting on crowns and glass open-toed slippers and jumping hurdles while trying to tell people what to do. Section 9(2) does NOT make you a constitutional princess.

2. "It is not the body of the argument which is different, but the manner in which it is clothed: should it wear the apparel of section 9(2), or shoudl it present itself in the dress of section 9(3)?"
Nice metaphor action.

3. "In a matter like the present it should accordingly not make any significant difference whether one starts one's analysis from the vantage point of those former disadvantaged, or of those who have been advantaged. Nor should there be a Chinese wall between the two."

A what wall?

4. "Thus, when resistance to the self-ordained sanctity of the brand comes in the form of satirical T-shirts, corporate reaction is as if a crucifix had been smashed in a monastery in the 14th century."

5. "The Constitution cannot oblige the dour to laugh. It can, however, prevent the cheerless from snuffing out the laughter of the blithe spirits among us. Indeed, if our society became completely solemn because of the exercise of state power at the behest of the worthy, not only would all irrelevant laughter be suppressed, but temperance considerations could end up placing beer-drinking itself in jeopardy."

Thank god someone on the Constitutional Court is looking to protect beer-drinking.

Quick hello and impressions of Mozambique

Hi all,

Sorry about the lack of new photos, but we returned from Mozambique at the end of last week into a malestrom of tests and tutorials. But there's a bit of a breather here this weekend so we'll sort and upload soon.

Just wanted to let all our faithful readers know that, despite a car breakdown and "roads" like you have never seen before, we have officially survived a nine-day trip into a real third-world country. The AXL triad took on a fourth for the trip: a really lovely and fun American girl named Katie who's here doing a really interesting women's rights project on an internship and is all set to go to Yale for law in the fall. A fellow 'foodie', she was my partner in crime in systematically hunting down all the new local beers and ordering calamari at every available opportunity. Before picking her up in good ol' Mtubatuba (the town names around here are always good for a laugh), the three of us canucks went to a huge game reserve (spelt Hluhluwe, pronounced, rather inexplicably, schluh-schloo'-way) and saw all sorts of crazy animals, including elephants and a leopard and rhinos and a whole pile of unbelievably cute giraffes. So may photos were taken (like that use of the passive voice, Laura?:) that my memory card was full by day three, but thankfully Allison was also on the job with her digital.

In Mozambique after a drive from hell (really, who needs the undercarriage and working shocks, anyway?), we all got to chill out at an awesome beach-front hostel where I think I put on shoes twice in four days. We met some really wicked people there of the young and hip world-traveller variety. For example, Hasse DeBoer, a super chill, interesting and educated dutchman who has possibly the awesomest pictures ever (hassedeboer.blogspot.com - check out the Guatemala album), and Michelle, the coolest American I've ever met (from California, of course) who gave us sweet travel tips and regailed us with HILLARIOUS impressions of the locals from various parts of southern Africa. I can only hope I'll be able to do anywhere near as good a job for you guys when we return.

I'm sure the other girls' Mozambique entry and photo descriptions will fill in more details, so I'm just sign off with a quick list of what I learned: Maputo = filthy, filthy dirty but fun and yummy; beaches are definitely the best place to study South African constitutional law; potholes are not your friend; always leave a solid two hours to cross an African border; there are different kinds of sea shells over here; I love calamari, the sun and dark beer. Oh wait, I already knew that last bit :).

Love,
Christina

Cape Town: The Finale

Whew, after all that, I’ve been assigned to tell you about our last night of debauchery in Cape Town and the epic road trip that followed. Still onboard?

I’ll start off by conceding that we ain’t undergrads anymore (well, other than technically). By the end of our stay in Cape Town *sigh*, LL, CGoddess and I were running almost on empty, having partied our little hearts out all week. Despite this, Laura and Christina managed to drag themselves to the Kirstenbosche Botanical Gardens, which Christina had been dying to see (see peek-a-boo photo series). Me? Well, I admit, I vegged back at the Pickups with Ed and Carlo … I mean, how can the Butchart Gardens ever be outdone? Okay, you caught me, I haven’t been to the Butchart Gardens since I was, like, 10 or something. I was just being lazy. As for the evening, our last in town, it was not to be outdone by the previous eight. It entailed a deadly combination of wine “by the glass,” gourmet pizza, and a few games of Drinking Jenga in a great lounge called Oblivion. Things soon began to run amok, as things tend to do when Drinking Jenga is involved (we at least didn’t sink so low as to chug our good wine). Highlights from the night include a lap-dance, courtesy of Laura, to some dude’s car (we decided a stranger was just too cruel) … Christina’s apparently convincing pantomime as the establishment’s boss lady and the requisite offer of “favors” to customers … each of us getting way too cozy with a one-dimensional headless man *shudder* … Carlo getting his 15 minutes (wasn’t it supposed to be 3? ; ) … Laura sweeping into the men’s room like she owned the place (and getting busted) … and Ed’s valiant effort to abide vigilantly to every rule to the very end (I’ve never seen someone go without talking or using his thumbs for as long as this guy did … or spank Christina like he did … or ask a girl if she was gay like he did ….). As for the rest, what happens at Oblivion, stays at Oblivion …. All in all, it was a killer end to a killer nine days.

The next morning, we were up and at ‘em bright and early, off to the airport to pick up our rental car for the loooooooooooooonnnnnnnggg drive home (as in, 3 days long). Admittedly we weren’t on the road until, like, 10:30 or something, but at least we did so in style – somehow Laura sweet-talked ourselves into a car with power-steering (yea, you’d think it’d go without saying, but apparently here it’s an “added feature”). And we were off towards the adorable town of Knysna, five hours away. There we chilled on a waterfront that could give CT’s V&A a run for its money, and Laura and Christina chowed down on some clams or oysters, I can’t remember which (Knysna is the oyster/clam capital of the continent). And we picked up a few nice items for our burgeoning jewelry collections from, strangely enough, a homeopathic pharmacy!?! Then it was off to Stewart’s house, a super sweet friend of Ed’s sister, Linzi. Stewart not only fed us braii (bbq), but he put us up for the night and even gave us his room! (I think Laura’s drooping eyelids and struggle to stay awake pulled at his heartstrings). Yep, Team AXL party-pooped on that night, alright (well, Christina was ready to party … but Christina’s ALWAYS ready to party). Nevertheless, Stewart was at our door the next morning with our 7 AM wake-up call, three coffee mugs in hand … I know!!! I just can’t believe our South African hosts so far; they have really taught us what opening your home and city to adventure seeking (okay, and sometimes weary) travelers is all about. Do unto others, I suppose ….

Day 2 of our journey back to Durbz: It was only a few hours into our drive when Storm River quickly appeared and Laura had to face what was looming all week: she was about to jump off a bridge 216 m high. Getting to be there and watch her lunge was a thrill in and of itself … yes, obviously not as much as a thrill as throwing myself off a bridge, but … oh, shut up. At least I handled the walk over the wobbly bridge to the jump site with a little more finesse than Christina … that’s something, isn’t it? Sorry, Christina.

But, while Christina may not handle heights with the best of them, let me tell you … has that girl got nerves of steel when it comes to navigating the death traps they call roadways here! Christina did, I’d guestimate, about 85% of the drive home (um, me 0%). Between cows, goats, dogs, and sheep wandering the fenceless roads, and men, women and children using the shoulderless highways as personal footpaths, the Transkei kept our knuckles (well, mine at least) white for most of the drive. The death toll along there wasn’t pretty. One day we saw a dead cow by the road, then the next, a mule and 8 dogs. Soooo sad. So coming around a bend at night on a single-lane highway to find an oncoming kombie on the right and a small gang of people walking in your lane on the left made for some surprises. Christina was our own personal Jacques Villeneuve (without the speed, of course, moms and dads). Even Formula 1 drivers make mistakes, however, and we were stuck in a whole lot of mud on Day 3, in beautiful Port St. Johns on a drizzly day. This particular sitch called for Laura’s tactical maneuvers behind the wheel, and a little grunt work from Christina, myself, and a kid whose mother just stood there, pointed, and laughed. It was good practice, though, as I’m sure we’ll be doing a lot of pushing on our end of year journeys.

But, back to Port St. Johns. But it’s kind of funny how we ended up there in the first place, as our intention had been to stick to the main highway and do a hike at Coffee Bay instead. Various incidents the night before, however, plus the rainy weather that began in East London and kept us company all the way back to Durban played out in such a way that PSJ was a kind of a last-minute destination. I can’t say enough about that town, so I won’t, just to spare you (you can thank me later). The photos do a great job of capturing just how quaint and laid back it is, all the while feeling kind of lively and like a real African coastal town. Our time there was definitely too short, because we were back on the road and heading for home a couple hours later.

And so here we are today back in Durban, waiting to hear from a mechanic about whether Roxie is roadworthy (enough) for a trek north to Mozambique scheduled for tomorrow. I know, I know … we’re back in town for less than a week and a half and we’ve already schemed another grand adventure. The white sands and turquoise waters are calling our names, I can hear them, so we pack our bags and await our fate. Hey, I didn’t say life here was easy ….

Congrats to all the UVic grads! We would have loved to be there with you for the big finish (and the even bigger parties). Now get out there and have a delinquent summer, you know, before the real world gets its greasy paws on us!

Allison

Cape Town: The sequel

A'ight kids, Laura here, ready to guide you through the second part of our wild and crazy adventure. I believe we've reached Monday, April 10 in the play-by-play that is our Cape Town tale.

That day we woke up excited to meet our Robben Island tour guide for lunch. We figured he'd want to meet downtown, so we headed down there earlier in the morning to check out the downtown scene. While we haven't put any pictures up of Durban's downtown core, I can assure you that these two place might as well exist in separate universes. Well, what we've seen of both of them could, anyway. We only really went up and down one street in Cape Town: Long Street. It was full of cute shops, coffee shops and restaurants, hostels and bars. We cruised around for a few hours spending money we don't have, and then met up with Modise at a cute African cafe for lunch. It was really interesting to hear him tell all that he's managed to accomplish in his life since his time on Robben Island. He's turned a horrifying experience into a positive force by using his notoriety to further his education and benefit his community. It was inspiring! And lunch we delicious (I had to put that in there. It really was SUPER delicious).

Once lunch was over, we were cruising around with not much in mind when we came upon a South African High Court (kinda like our Supreme Courts). Being law geeks (apparently, cuz who else cares about such things?), we decided to go see if we could catch some court in action. Unfortunately court was over that day, but we were introduced to a nice lawyer (Andre) who invited us to his office ("chambers") for tea and a chat. After an hour of learning all about the South African court system, our geekiness had gotten its fill and we jumped into Ed's car, eager to return home for dinner. His parents being pet lovers (they have a million birds, a cat, and 4 dogs), we decided it was high time they saw 'Best In Show'. So we settled down for a chill evening with the fam.

The next day we woke up, went out for some brekky and bummed around the neighborhood mall a bit, checking email and the like. We were waiting on Ed to hear about when we could come pick up his car, because he was generously giving it up to us and taking on a rental car from his sister's company so that we could have our own transportation free of cost. (That gives you a small glimpse into how amazing a host Ed is. Go Camp Chateaugay!) Once we got the OK, we took 3 minibuses into town to go pick up the car. We felt pretty proud of ourselves for navigating the system, and it let us see some parts of Cape Town that we likely would have missed.

That night we went out for dinner at the Africa Cafe. Unbeknownst to any of us, it was a flat rate, eat all that you can sorta place. Although we were planning on going to a buffet dinner the next night, we were too far in to stop so we gave it our best shot. The meal first involved a taste of everything on the menu, after which point we could order anything we wanted again. It was totally made for a person like me! We managed to roll ourselves outta there after an hour or two and went to a karaoke bar. Karaoke in South Africa is much like karaoke in Canada, except they have WAY better videos. Or did they have way worse videos? I can't actually remember. In any event, even if they were better, they were still SO BAD. Example: A song from the Killers is playing, and the video is all about sheep. Sheep in a pasture, sheep being herded by a dog, shots of the green pasture, shots of more sheep ... You get the picture, I'm sure. What's up with karaoke videos anyway? Do they just tell their photographers to go out and shoot absolutely any random thing they come across cause that can be made into a video? If I were a karaoke video filmer, I'd be filming the other people who are working in the computer lab right now. I bet I could sell it for millions. People logging on computers, logging off. It's gold.

But I digress.

The next day (where are we? Ah yes, April 12) Christina and I decided to hike Table Mountain. Allison, feeling sick, opted for the cable car up. We had been warned that the hike could take anywhere between 1 and 8 hours, which made us realize that locals don't hike Table Mountain. But we wouldn't be deterred. So in the heat of the BLAZING sun, Christina and I began what we've now termed "the death march up Table Mountain". Having been in a desert once, I can tell you that to walk through it with the sun beating down on your head incessantly and no shade to be seen for miles in the middle of the afternoon just isn't a good time. Well, that's where Christina and I might as well have been. It was SO HOT and this hike was basically a staircase going up the mountain. The only shade we could see was a solid 45 minutes up (although I must admit I considered squishing myself into the shade cast by one stair on another stair more than once cause it was SO HOT). We managed to drag ourselves up to the shaded spot, just barely surviving. I got to witness Christina's approach and lemme tell ya, it wasn't pretty. We did not move from that shaded area for a solid 45 more minutes. You'll notice the one picture we put up of the hike is of Christina's back because both of us refused to smile for anything at that point. Thankfully we were only 20 minutes from the top (note to Cape Townians: It takes an hour), which meant 20 minutes from the cable car we intended to take down. At the bottom of that ride, I insisted we take a cab the 10 minutes to our car cause I was D-O-N-E, that's how tiring it was!

That night we went to the coolest restaurant ever: Cafe Moyo. It was at the Paarl winery, in Stellenbosch (South Africa's largest wine region). We were lead to our table, which was set under HUGE trees, outside and well-equipped with blankets and candles. There were tables in tree houses and a huge tent with tons more tables under it. The place as magical! It was fully lit with pretty lights, there was live music and dancing, and best of all ... IT WAS A BUFFET! The food was incredibly delicious, and Christina and I got to try antelope (springbok) and ostrich (for our second time). We all ate to the point where we could do nothing but relocate the group to the benches under the trees and lie down on them (following a sleeping 8 year old's example). We lay there in a semi-coma for a half hour before someone motivated to leave. I would've happily slept there and woken up for buffet #2, but it was not meant to be.

The next day was not very well planned, and what was supposed to be a day in wine country ended up being an hour at one winery. But, to its credit, it was a nice winery that belongs to Ernie Els, who is apparently a golf player that people-in-the-know know. Golfing dads, eat your hearts out. The wine and cheese dish we partook in was delicious, and what we got to see of the area was beautiful. Fields of vineyards set against a background of huge, rocky mountains. What a life! We rushed outta there to return Ed's car to him in town, and we spent more time shopping (this time refraining from buying. It helped that most of the stores closed before we could get to them) and having coffee. That night we cooked Ed a well deserved dinner and then headed out to Sobar (sp?) and danced/drank the night away (to super fun music, this time!).

Well folks, that's all for now. Stay tuned for part 3 of the saga when Allison's bit is posted. Seeing as she's been waiting on me to get my act together and write this, it shouldn't be too long now ...

Congrats to all you law grads out there. Party hard and drink some beers for us cuz we're thinking of you and are with you in spirit!

Luv Laura

Three words: CAPE TOWN ROCKS

Partying at Tiger Tiger
Originally uploaded by axlinafrica.

Hello! Sorry for the long silence, but we are finally ready to tackle the mammoth task of sorting through over 600 photos and describing 12 awesome days for all of your viewing enjoyment…good thing there’s three of us! I, Christina, will be taking on the first four days: April 6th-10th. So without further ado…

We took off on the Thursday before the week-long semester/Easter break, landing in the mid-afternoon into the welcoming arms of Laura’s long-lost summer camp buddy, Edward Pickup. We got a little foreshadow of what was to come when we found out that Ed had asked his sister drive all the way out to the airport too, just in case we had too much luggage for our week-long stay to fit into one car. The Hospitality Extravaganza then continued with a welcome dinner at Ed’s parents house, where thankfully he lives at the moment, because let me tell you this was no frat house! Almost the entire lovely Pickup family was there: Mom (Marlene), Dad (Peter), Sister (Linzi), twin Brother (Rowland), and Rowland’s girlfriend Natalie. I can’t even begin to tell you how wonderful it was to find ourselves guests at a family table in a beautiful home, eating delicious food and polishing off 6 bottles of some very nice local white wine. Ed had even vacated his loft room for us because it had space for three, and so after a brainstorming session in which the family generated an entire foolscap sheet full off suggestions on what to do during our visit (after about ten great ideas I felt I actually needed to grab a pen and start taking notes), we went to bed full of home-cooked goodness.

The next morning Marlene dropped us off at the Waterfront, which turned out to definitely be the place to start our lesson in Cape Town Appreciation. The Waterfront is a series of shops, restaurants, and condos all located along piers and docks behind a breakwater, with Table Mountain towering in the background. It made for some spectacular shots which you will find in our album ‘just now’ (i.e. nobody knows how long it’s going to take to get these pictures online, but definitely don’t hold your breath!). We had breakfast on the water at a restaurant which turned out to be conveniently located right next to the ticket centre and dock for boats to Robben Island, on which you may already know Nelson Mandela and other political opponents of the apartheid regime were imprisoned. We booked our tickets and then went to ‘kill time’ at the huge craft barns along the waterfront area. Let’s just say time wasn’t the only casualty of that excursion…but at least I can now report that after leaving everything for safekeeping back in Canada, my earring collection is back up to speed! Hoorah! In fact, I think we all got off pretty lightly considering all the super cool stuff there was in there, from yummy jellies to crystal mobiles to Zulu-hut shaped oil incense burners to wire crocheted necklaces to full-sized African drums (on which we caught Allison having a sneak practice session with the salesman).

I’ll admit, we had to tear ourselves away, which was accomplished mostly by lying to ourselves in self-convincing voices about how we would come back for sure. But Robben Island was not to be missed. While I starred fixedly at the horizon in a valiant effort to keep my lunch in my stomach, Laura and Allison enjoyed the view of Cape Town from the deck of the boat that took us across to the island in about 20 minutes. Because I needed to take a few minutes to say a little prayer of thanks to the solid ground beneath my feet on the other side, we ended up in the last group made up of fellow stragglers, but this turned out to be a blessing because the tour guide that we got for the walk-through of the prison was awesome. His name was Modise (pronounced moh-DEE-say) and he had been brought to the island as a prisoner (as have all the prison guides) when he was just sixteen years old. He took us through explaining how things were run and let us browse the series of tiny individual cells which have been set up with an original artifact and a letter posted on the wall by a person who had occupied that cell. He then sat us down in a common area which had been a room full of bunk beds in which he had been placed. He told us truly horrifying stories about how he had been interrogated and tortured. He spoke of the hatred that this had inspired, and how he had eventually been convinced away from the path of violent retaliation. The experience was made even more interesting by the presence of a group of white South Africans who, Modise told Laura privately as we were walking around, exhibited a family dynamic that he saw there quite often: two teenaged kids trying to see for themselves this place they’ve read about in school, dragging with them a reluctant and closed-faced father who looked pointedly off into the middle distance every time Modise tried to engage him with eye-contact. That became particularly interesting in retrospect when we learned that although it is now a regular excursion for local school groups at the government’s expense, many if not most South Africans our age and older have never made the trip. I guess that goes some way towards answering the question of why someone who was imprisoned on the island for five years would go back there and give tours reliving the experience day after day, to be part of the process of changing that.

Needless to say, we could all probably go on to describe this experience for quite some time, as evidenced by the fact that the above paragraph is huge and I haven’t even mentioned the bus tour that took us past the leper’s graveyard and the quarry where political prisoners were forced to turn limestone to gravel by hand day after day in the blazing sun, causing lasting lung and eye damage to all of them. Even we felt we hadn’t heard enough by the end of two hours, so I won’t even try. But Laura, aka Networking Queen, managed to get Modise’s contact information to meet for lunch the following week so that we’d have a chance to ask a few more questions and generally follow up on the experience. But I’ve got a whole weekend to describe here first, so more on that from Laura later.

Come to think of it, I really should pick up the pace because if I describe all the cool stuff we did in this kind of detail we’re going to be here all week! So, with a bit more brevity (feel free to post comments or send emails for further info ): that (Friday) night we started getting geared up to go out, but the double dose of Gravol I took in order to survive the boat trip home had left me totally brain-dead so I had to bow out of a visit to Ed’s eldest sister’s house…you’ll have to see picture descriptions or one of the other gal’s blogs for more on that, but I hear it was fun. Thankfully, I did manage to get it together just in time for our first night out in Cape Town at the now infamous Tiger Tiger. Ed’s friends were cool, and it did make for a cute picture and a really fun game of Disco (where you give each other activities to pantomime while disco-dancing). But the music was brutal (like, ACDC and the Beach Boys brutal) and by the end of the night, we resisted being dragged into a club full of teenagers only to return to Tiger Tiger where Laura ended up slapping the South African (lightweight, but still) cage-fighting champion full in the face! Apparently cage fighting makes you a little bit too comfortable with grabbing strangers. For some reason, it took Laura, Allison, a bartender and a manager to get him removed, but eventually he was gone. And so were we. Oh well, we met some cool “ou’s” (pronounced ‘ohs’, meaning dudes), had fun dancing, and there were many nights still to come…

Saturday saw a predictably bright and bushy start around noon to head off for a locally-guided tour of the Cape Peninsula by none other than our new best friend Ed and his friend Carlo. We managed to get the entire top half of the peninsula in before somebody mentioned cocktails and the party was relocated from the car to the Brass Bell, the gorgeous covered patio of which features in a few lovely, slantily-lit seaside shots. That evening was the finals of the Symphony of Fire featuring Spain, South Africa and…Canada! We pulled up a piece of embankment and had a great time watching the gorgeous display of some of the coolest fireworks I’ve ever seen. A little exhausted, we opted for movie rental that night (Mean Creek = lame), so we were nice and fresh the next morning for Laura to go surfing with Linzi before we resumed our peninsula tour. We had another delicious meal on the water, including huge veggie sandwiches and my first of the many plates of mussels I was to have on this trip, including some fresh, homebaked mussels handpicked by Marlene and Peter themselves that very night at our second fabulous hosted meal. We went and checked out a real live wild penguin colony at Boulder Beach, where for $4 you can actually go down to the water and swim alongside any penguins you happen to find. The water was frigid, but you bet I was in there (Laura had had enough that morning, Ed’s a local and Allison’s one of those ‘I hate cold water’ people. Phht! Come on! Penguins people, penguins!). Then that night we had a real good time at La Med, a sweet beach-front bar which is widely known as The place to go if you want to party but it unfortunately happens to be Sunday. For the second and not the last time the dancing went on until the wee hours of the morning, with good times being had by all.

Alrighty, Laura’s poised to take over for the next four days of our epic (thanks for the word, Jonno ) voyage. I will just conclude by saying out loud, in case it isn’t coming through loud and clear already, that this was definitely a highlight of our trip, due in no small part to the efforts of our hosts. Stay tuned for Part II of Cape Town Rocks!

Love,
Christina