24.05.07 - These Boots Are Made For Walking

Traveling alone is a great experience and it does seem to change the way that one observes the world around you. At least this is what I am finding. I now have the time to take in everything that I am seeing and sit back and think about it. I love it!

So there I am at about midday sitting in the vast new complex built around the Victoria & Albert Marina. It is a great development with a vast shopping centre and a wide array of different cafes and restaurants. The sky was clear despite this being winter in South Africa and the view through the harbour towards the ocean was breathtaking as I watched a catamaran sailing out towards the shimmering horizon. The time was right for a coffee so I picked a table outside a restaurant overlooking a waterway. And of course a fruit filled crepe goes well with coffee.

And then it dawned on me. I AM A TOURIST! There is no avoiding the fact that no matter where I go I will stand out like a flamingo in a penguin colony ( the pink thing had no relevance to my choosing a flamingo.... this is merely a coincidence) and as such I will be charged inflated prices and be seen as an outsider. This thought did nonetheless put a smile on my face and I set to work on a 'good points/bad points' table to assess whether I can handle being tagged as a tourist for an entire year.

I have no idea how far I walked yesterday but it certainly was a full trek through Cape Town. I started by heading up into Bo-Kaap, a Muslim neighbourhood up on the on the slopes below the mountain. Small brightly painted and well kept one or two story buildings line the cobbled streets over the undulating hillside. It is quite beautiful.

Having made my trip to the harbour I plodded all the way back into the centre of town and trawled the streets. I headed for Darling Street to see the Old Mutual Building, Africa's first skyscraper. 'Mini-Empire State' springs to mind. I had to see the Art Deco interior but was only able to see the four story entrance hall. Having had a friendly chat with the two security guards who were keen for me to invest in Cape Town, I made a swift exit with my bank balance intact!

A quick word of advice: avoid any shop that is called 'High Fashion'. The window displays were enough to keep me walking and brought back nasty memories of BHS in Putney.

The final part of my walk took me to another part of the city. Vredehoek is a suburb that goes up the hillside below Table Mountain. There are Art Deco buildings all around and at the base of the mountain three cylindrical apartment blocks rise from the ground. They could be hideous 1940s monstrosities but there was something of a Thunderbirds set feel to them. That gets my vote. And then there is the view over Cape Town towards the Atlantic.....

Right come on then. What did Eddie have to eat in Cape Town on his second night? Wrong again! Fajitas in a wee Mexican restaurant of course! A table for one with a large prickly cactus on it sent me into another train of thought. Dining alone. Within moments I had put pen to napkin and was jotting down ideas of how it is perceived if you are brave enough to do so.

And then there was Wilfred. The black African man, about 50 years old I should think, sitting above my chair at the bar turned his bony body around to introduce himself. The handshake had a sticky, greasy feel to it. Was the grey suit shabby-chic or ready for the black bin liner treatment? And then there was the nose... it looked as though he had been struck across the face with a metal rod at some point in his life. We attempted to chat for a while and it was quite bizarre. He insisted that he paid 10 Rands a day to travel 10km to university in Cape Town to study menstruation. What could I say to this? It certainly wasn't a conversation I wanted to pursue with fajita in my hand. When he asked me for money I decided to head back to the Carnival Hostel's bar, carefully avoiding the handshake!

And then there was Paul the insane 41 year old, 5 foot tall chappy who claimed to be from Liverpool. And Juanita who is a local girl who is clearly quite mad and is seeing a therapist. The email address that I gave to her may not be completely accurate. I clearly attract like-minded people! Nonetheless I carried on at the bar until some disgraceful hour with Sonelle, the reception lady, and several other shady types.

Just one more quick thought on the tourist subject.... do you think that I should stop wearing white socks pulled up to my knees with leather trekking sandals? Hmm......