Two days of drizzling farm work completed my 2 weeks of
self-sustainable farm living in KwaZulu-Natal, and only 10 days remained in my 3.5 month South African journey. The past 11.5 weeks, excepting a short trip to Joburg, have been filled with lots of work, sweat, and dirt, and I am relishing my next stop of pure-tourist vacation. Cape Town or bust, baby!
With yawns plaguing my flight, I flew in to Cape Town well after 9:00 pm and only saw the city’s abundant lights casting the sky big and bright. As I rode into the city in the comfort of a bus provided by my backpacker’s hostel, I looked around but saw very little. New destinations always initially tire me with a certain level of concerned anxiety, regardless of my excitement at planning the trip. Cape Town was no different, and watching my normal bedtime hour run by didn’t help. Making small talk, the bus driver, a native Capetonian, told me, “Welcome! If you’ve come looking for Africa, Africa is not here. This is Cape Town; this is not Africa.” I did not really know what he meant, but it didn’t too take long to figure it out.
The next morning I awoke early, well before the other 7 people in my 8-person dormitory room. The sun was just starting to lift above the horizon as I stole a peak out of the window. The next thing I saw was startling, the most majestic up-close vision seemingly within feet of my view. This was what I saw:
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| View of Table Mountain from my room |
