Trip to Capetown

The school year ended mid December, but I didn't go anywhere until after New Year's in my attempt to avoid some of the crowds brought about by so many people on holiday at the same time. I decided to go by Greyhound to Port Elizabeth where I would catch the Baz Bus and travel the Garden Route along the coast to Capetown, with a stopover in George. The bus was, unfortunately without air conditioning, but the friendly bus driver, at my request opened the vent at the roof to help vent the hot air out of the bus. At a stop in Grahamstown, when I got off to take some pictures, we chatted a bit and he and the luggage handler posed for me. He said that since I was from Canada, he expected to see his picture on the internet. I told him I would oblige him, so here it is.

The stay over in Port Elizabeth afforded me the opportunity to explore a bit of the town near the hostel at the oceanside. Even though I was footing it, I covered quite a bit of territory. The Jikeleza Backpackers Hostel was in a fairly convenient location.
I walked along some very deserted streets to what seemed to be the downtown core with an ornate government building and town library on the edge of the town square. With the holiday in full swing, I learned that Port Elizabeth is a town that knows how to close down to rest.









I set off toward a clock tower that I was told one could climb to get a good view of the city. It was closed. I did notice that there seemed to be a small ad hoc sort of market going on with people selling foodstuffs and assorted things from their vehicles. It wasn't touristy stuff at all and there weren't many people there.

I turned my feet in the direction of the beach because I wanted to get close to the water, but I was going to have to walk a bit because it was all industrial where I was located and I was right under a highway overpass. Not such a good place to be walking when I wasn't sure how to get to where I was going. As luck would have it, there was a police car nearby, so I went over and asked them the best way to the beach. Surprisingly, they said they would give me a lift there as they were going that way. They dropped me off at the point where an amusement park with rides had been set up. That's where all the people were.... and the beach. As an old roller coaster junkie, this seemed like a good place to be. Seeing the assortment of rides, I picked out a couple I thought would be fun, but before I could get to it, I saw the family from the hostel that I had met. I said hi and waited around to snap a couple of pics of them on the ride.

My choice of ride turned to the whirly twirly sort. I chose the fastest, spinningest most outrageous ride, paid my top Rand for it and got on. Eeeeoooh! I probably should have started out with something more mild because after that ride, my stomach had been re-arranged more than I had anticipated. I gave myself a break and tried some of the games. One of them involved trying to hit balloons with darts. There was a little boy dressed in dirty raggedy clothing who was trying to beg money. Who knows whether he was truly needy or just doing the family business. I didn't give him any money, but I did let him throw some darts and he really enjoyed it. He burst a balloon, too. Between the two of us, we won a consolation prize of a lollipop, which I promptly gave to him, much to his delight. From there it was another tour around the park to find a more gentle ride so I could use up the tickets I had purchased.

Next stop was a stroll over to the beach where the scene was a stark contrast to the last time I was in Port Elizabeth with my colleagues on our return from Addo Elephant Park. At that time the beach we had the beach pretty much to ourselves and the long stretch of white, sandy beach front could fully be appreciated. This time, it was high summer, people were on holiday and the beach was a lively place. People were jumping into the waves, sitting under umbrellas on the sand, kids were slithering down the water slide, and older folk like myself were merely watching it all. The lifeguards were busy. It was interesting for me to note that most of the beach revelers were black folk. No shyness about the water for the inhabitants of this seaside town.











After investigating more of what was happening on the waterfront, I realized I needed food. The big question was would I be able to find a decent vegetarian meal. I'm glad to report that the answer was yes. There was a rather upscale looking place called Cubana (tilda on the n) that looked very inviting. I was pleased to order a vegetarian fajita that was very tasty and nicely presented as well.

With my tummy full, my feet rested and my energy level restored, it was time to set out on the walk back to my hostel and see what I could see. This time I had more of an idea where I was going and for part of the walk I followed some people on a shortcut through the maze of expressway roads, eventually winding up back at my very comfortable hostel where I met Emma from Sweden who I

would spend time with in Capetown, though we were in different hostels. The Baz Bus picked us up on its route beginning in PE running along the Garden Route and ending in Capetown.

The landscape changed as we proceeded westward -- more trees, an obvious change in building materials for township housing to wood from the awful looking corrugated steel. One thing about traveling the Baz Bus is that you get to see the heart of some of the small towns as the driver drops off passengers at their various hostels sprinkled around the countryside. He also points out some of the interesting sights along the way, like the highest bungee jump in the world off a bridge that we drove over.










Continued... FINALLY!!

Omigosh, I have been remiss in my blogging duties. This trip was 5 months ago. I'm going to try to take up the thread of this trip to Capetown, anyway. At this point, I'm still on the way! The whole idea was to travel the Garden Route and see some of the towns along the way. The next place I stayed was George. I opted to stop over in George because I was hoping to take the train from there to Mossel Bay. I didn't learn until after my bookings were done, that the train run was discontinued. I determined that I would see what I could see in George. The town offered a beautiful botanical garden with walking path and a train museum, which was a highlight of in the city. In the process of getting information from the host at my hostel, I learned that though there was no train to Mossel Bay, there was a power van that went up the mountain and back down again, following part of the route the train would have taken. In trying to book the trip I was disappointed to learn that all seats were reserved, but not to be discouraged I figured I'll go anyway and hope that someone changes their mind and goes to the beach instead. Besides, I'd at least be able to check out the museum, so I thought. Lucky me, that is how it transpired. I arrived early at the ticketing place and was the first one on the waiting list. While I waited to learn my fate, I enjoyed the museum which had not only trains, but also old cars and various relics from a bygone era of transportation. The day had turned out to be lovely -- bright and sunny and some of the people who had booked the train ride, canceled, which left openings for me and some other people as well.

The view was gorgeous. We made our way up the mountain in a vehicle that was diesel powered and more like a shuttle bus on rails rather than a full-fledged train. There were only about 3 cars and each car only held about 16-20 people. We had a tour guide who told us interesting tidbits of information which, since I didn't write them down, I have forgotten. Oh well. We had to stop along the way for an unscheduled cooling down of a motor. I took the opportunity to hop out and get some photos. The stream that the water was taken from was quite red. The color I think was from an abundance of iron in the rock and soil of the river beds. (don't quote me on that, I may be remembering incorrectly) We had time for snacks at a place where we de-trained and got take stairs to a place where we could get an unobstructed view of the area. The route was varied, interesting, sometimes breathtaking and included a waterfall, a bridge, and a tunnel as we road the rails up and back down the mountain. My trip in George was short, but better than I had expected, so I happily hopped on the Baz Bus the next day in anticipation of an eye-opening time in Capetown. I was finally going to be in a South African big city.

The Atlantic Backpacakers hostel was recommended by Verna, my colleague and housemate, after staying there on her visit to Capetown. I decided to go with a known quantity this trip and wasn't disappointed. It was clean, spacious, comfortable and well located. I was in a mixed-dorm -- the cheapest accommodation you can get outside of sleeping on a park bench. It had adult-sized bunk beds that you didn't have to worry about hitting your head on if you were in the lower bunk.

The first day I teamed up with Emma, whom I met at the Jikeleza Lodge in Port Elizabeth. She was staying in a different hostel, but as we were both traveling solo and wanted to see similar things, we paired up on two occasions. The first day in Capetown we got on a tourist bus that covers the major sights and attractions of the city. The good thing is you can get off when the bus arrives somewhere you may want to spend time, then get back on again and continue the route with another bus traveling the circuit. We caught the bus at the wharf which was also the departure point for the boat to Robben Island. That was to come later. On our tour of the city I discovered a modern, bustling, vibrant city that was in stark contrast to the small rural town of Queenstown. Being in Capetown reminded me that there was another side of South Africa that held a different set of experiences and opportunities. From the rooftop deck of the bus, we passed by the planetarium, a castle, business and shopping districts and historical landmarks to feast our eyes. We didn't get off until we got the the Jewish Museum where we got a view of the immigrant experience into South Africa from a Jewish perspective. The museum highlighted the contribution of Jews to the Struggle for freedom by blacks, drawing a clear parallel to the commonality of oppression faced by Jews and blacks. The museum building contains the first synagogue built on African soil in 1863 It has been connected with a modern building which houses the exhibits, restaurant and galleries.

During our hop on hop off trip, we also got off at the District Six Museum. It commemorates the area that at one time was a thriving, mixed-racae community of artisans, merchants, immigrants and labourers. The community deteriorated under the apartheid policies of forced removals of blacks to outlying regions. It was eventually declared a white area and homes were bulldozed to the ground. The museum has guides who lived through some of those removals or who have personal connections to what used to be a community. They gave the oral history of what people suffered and experienced ad took questions from the listeners.

Our trip by bus was not over. We continued on to Table Mountain and got off there as well. We took the cable car to the top and we took it back down as well, even though we had planned to walk down. It was one of the hottest days of the year and poor Emma, with her fair skin, no hat and no sunscreen was getting burned up. Once on top of the mountain, we discovered it was just like the name -- extraordinarily flat, like a table -- with amazing vistas and a wide variety of vegetation growing out of the rock. The vistas of the city were extraordinary from that height and Robben Island beckoned in the distance -- another must see for a trip to Capetown.

With our ticket in hand, we hopped back onto the bus and finished the circuit. We went by a beach, which had such spectacular waves, we had to get off.