Cape Town

I knew I’d like Cape Town, but I didn’t realise I’d love it quite so much. We arrived in the evening from Windhoek on what was one of the bumpiest flights I’ve ever been on.

On our first day, we went on the hop-on hop-off bus. Despite the fact that these red buses can be found in so many of the cities I’ve visited, it was the first time I’d been on one. Primarily because my backpacking friends and I preferred to navigate our own way and spend the money elsewhere. But herein lies a perk of traveling with your family.

Cool Cape Town church

So we toured around the city, with running commentary, hopping on and hopping off as we felt inclined. We first descended at the waterfront, where we walked around and looked through a great craft market (for far too long as far as the males were concerned). It had loads of original, hand-made stuff. We also got off in the city centre, where we wandered around an outdoor market and had lunch. And then we got off at Table Mountain, arguably Cape Town’s best known tourist attraction.

The waterfront.

Market in the city.

The drive part-way up Table Mountain was marvelous in itself. The views over the city and the ocean were spectacular. But they were about to get even more spectacular. We went up to the top of the mountain in a revolving cable car, and the views were seriously awe-inspiring. In fact, Table Mountain is one of the ‘new’ seven wonders of the world – whatever that means. I took photos from every angle many times over. Here are just a couple:

Our hotel was in Camps Bay, a delightful beach about 15 minutes out of the city. It was essentially a strip with lots of restaurants and a few shops. That night, after a fantastic dinner looking out onto the beach, we hit the Cape Town town. Simon and I had met a group of college students from Minnesota back in Etosha, and they happened to have a very similar itenerary to us. They took the same flight as us from Windhoek to Cape Town, so we chatted to them while waiting to board.

Camps Bay

As it turns out, a college trip equals going out every night, while a family trip is more likely to equate to being in bed by 10. So a night out was much needed as far as we were concerned. We met a bunch of Norwegian guys who had been on a ship for the last 5 months (or potentially 5 weeks, I’m a little bit hazy on that detail) and bought alcohol like it was water – for all 10 of us. There’s something about going out overseas – it’s always much more fun than at home. Even if your brother’s there and receiving far too much female attention.

Fun times!

The next day we went on a boat, which was not so fortunate given the events of the night before. But we made it to Robben Island, which was interesting and worthwhile. From the 17th to the 20th Centuries, Robben Island served as a place of banishment, isolation and imprisonment. It held many well-known prisoners, including Nelson Mandela. Today it is a world heritage site and museum.

One of the prison buildings on Robben Island.

The first part of the tour was a bus tour, where we passed the island’s tiny town, including a church and a post office. We saw some of the prison buildings, and had a view onto the mainland across the water. I suppose it was a little bit similar to Alcatraz, which I visited when I was in San Francisco last year. The most interesting part was being taken through one of the barracks by a former political prisoner. He was really able to give us an idea of what life was like being in prison on Robben Island. It sounds like it was fairly grim.

Our aforementioned guide.

A typical prison cell at Robben Island.

That afternoon, we went to the beach. But the water was freezing – too cold to dip your feet in, let alone swim. I’m not much of a sunbather – my white, pasty skin is not receptive to it. If I go to the beach, it’s primarily to get into the water. So this made me a bit sad. Nonetheless, you can’t really complain about being on the beach. I went back to the hotel and swam in the pool, and all was well.

Camps Bay beach.

That night we had dinner at a restaurant, again with spectacular views of the beach. Afterwards, we went out with our new-found friends. It was Simon’s last night in Cape Town; the following day he was headed back to Johannesburg to stay with some friends. And I was left without a buddy with whom to bemoan Mum and Dad’s occasional annoying traits…

A typical evening in Camps Bay.

But it certainly wan’t all bad. The next day, we took a drive along the coast, which was reminiscent of the Great Ocean Road or the Big Sur. The scenery was stunning in a big way. We had to get out of the car at almost every view point to take photos.

Eventually we came to Boulder’s Beach, which is beautiful blue water and white sand with penguins swimming around. There are heaps of them, and you can literally be a metre away from the little fellows. After lunch, we continued our drive down to the Cape of Good Hope, which I thought was the southern-most tip of the African continent – but Wikipedia tells me it’s not.

The penguins at Boulder’s Beach.

Whatever its geographical co-ordinates, the Cape of Good Hope is spectacular. We climbed up to a lighthouse at Cape Point, and this is the view that we had. Breathtaking, no?

We also stopped at the botanical gardens on the way back, which were beautiful. I’m always up for gardens and parks, especially since being torn away from my beloved Hampstead Heath in London.

We encountered these fellows driving back.

The next day was unfortunately the last day of the holiday. We spent the morning at the Cape Town holocaust centre, which was so impressive I would go as far to say that it was core-shaking. It was housed in a whole complex, with a Jewish Museum, a Jewish Library, a cafe, a shop, and more. It just shows how strong and thriving Cape Town’s Jewish community is.

As much as I like to shop, I do regret spending the last afternoon of our African getaway doing it. We should have been out enjoying the beach and the sunshine rather than inside a shopping mall. It was made worse by the fact that it was easily the most disappointing shopping mall I’ve ever been to. Perhaps I’m spoilt with Chadstone on my doorstep, but this was woeful. South African fashion is simply awful. We wandered around for three hours, and the only things I ended up buying were brands we have in Australia that I found in a department store.

We met up with Dad later on. You’d have to pay him good money to spend more than 5 minutes in a shopping centre, and even then, he might not do it. In this particular instance he had the right idea. Nonetheless, we finished the day off nicely with dinner at an Italian restaurant overlooking the beach.

The prospect of going home was unwelcome, especially given the fact that we were about to endure 30 hours of traveling. Leaving paradise to go back home to work is not fun at the best of times.

Good bye Cape Town.

But I’ve made it. A month later, here I am, back into the swing of things. All the while, of course, I’m reminiscing about a wonderful trip, and dreaming of the next one.

Catch you soon.

Namibia

We arrived in Windhoek, the capital, early in the afternoon and hired a car at the airport. Driving in a foreign country is always a bit of an ask, but we seemed to manage it ok. Fortunately, in Namibia they drive on the left side of the road.

Ticking off the main attractions in Windhoek didn’t take more than a couple of hours. Among other things we saw a church famous for looking like a gingerbread house, which it rather did. But what was really interesting was to see how developed Windhoek is. My impression was that it would be poorer, but that was not the case at all. In fact, Namibia is not even considered a third world country. Certainly, some parts were not well off, but some of the houses we saw might have come straight out of Toorak or Rose Bay.

Gingerbread Church (not its actual name…)

We spent just one night in Windhoek, before driving the next day into the depths of the desert. It was about a four or five hour drive to our ‘Desert Camp,’ made more difficult by the fact that most of it was on gravel roads. For so much of the drive, there was absolutely nothing to see. Towns and rest stops were few and far between. But we did stop once at a very interesting rest stop which was essentially someone’s house with a few guest rooms tacked on.

The proprietors welcomed us in and sat with us to chat. We were the only people there and it seemed as though we might have been the only people to pass though that day. It was difficult to tell whether we were more interested in their story, or they were more interested in ours. They were an endearing older man, and his daughter – a university student who, being nowhere near a university, studied through distance education. She made us sandwiches in the kitchen which they charged about $2 each for, although we had by then become accustomed to paying pittance for our food. It was a memorable stop.

Late that afternoon we arrived at Desert Camp, which was, as it’s name suggests, in the middle of the desert. All I remember was that it was so hot I’m surprised I didn’t melt into a puddle on the ground. No, I do remember that getting in the pool there that afternoon was heavenly. And I do remember having one of the best dinners of the trip that night, looking out into the vast expanse of the desert.

Desert Camp

The next morning, we woke up safari-style early to go and visit the sand dunes in Sossusvlei. It was about an hour-and-a-half drive to get to the dunes, and along the way we experienced a desert sunrise, which is beautiful like any sunrise, but with a little bit of added awesome. The colours were sublime.

When we got there, our tour guide set up a sumptuous breakfast for us. We needed the energy in order to make it up the sand dune. These dunes are a stunning red – not the colour of the sand on the beach. And the sand is incredibly fine and soft, which is all well and good, but it’s difficult to walk on! And even more difficult to climb up. Having said that, the climb was actually less difficult than I had anticipated. I didn’t quite keep the pace of the tour guide and an athletic younger brother, but I was still in a state to be photographed when we got to the top.

The dune we climbed was called Big Daddy. We didn’t go to the very peak, but arrived at a nice vantage point to view the rest of the dunes. And going down was a whole lot of fun. It was pretty steep, so we semi-ran down in huge, un-coordinated steps. With every step, our feet sank deep into the sand.

After the climb.

That afternoon, we went to see a canyon, which was no Grand Canyon, but it was still impressive. But by that point it was well and truly the heat of the day, so we could barely stand out in the sun long enough to take a few photos. We spent the rest of the afternoon in and out of the pool. Oh, how I’d love to be back by that pool right now.

Perhaps an unusual location for a swimming pool.

The next morning it was off to Swakopmund, a city on the coast of northwestern Namibia. We had some drama on the way. As I was driving along a seemingly endless gravel road in the middle of nowhere – literally nothing in sight – a tyre blew off the car. Fortunately I was able to stop the car safely. The real challenge was changing the tyre (something fortunately I played little part in). It was high 30’s, sun belting down. My Dad and my brother got down on their hands and knees, and struggled for about 40 minutes before one single car passed. Fortunately the driver of this vehicle was able-bodied and changed the tyre in about 5 minutes. It wasn’t that the males in my family are incapable, it was something about the jack…

Oh-oh.

Anyway, we finally made it to Swakopmund late that afternoon, and it was absolutely a delight. I speak especially about the weather, which was a good 10 degrees cooler than where we had come from, and much much needed relief. When we got there we went to see flamingoes, of which there were heaps. All standing together pink and pretty in the shallows of the beach.

Flamingoes.

Swakopmund – or Swakop as it’s affectionately called for short – is a beachside holiday spot, although it’s hardly warm enough to swim at the beach. The guest house we stayed in was very pleasant – and it had WiFi! Definitely a win. That night we enjoyed a delicious dinner at a restaurant on the water. It was designed to resemble a boat, and, you guessed it… specialised in seafood.

I loved these swings at our guest house.

The next day was a highlight of the holiday. In the morning, we walked around Swakopmund, which I found to have an unexpected charm. The city centre is a web of endearing little lanes with cute, arty shops and attractive buildings. We visited the crystal museum, and the women of the family spent quite some time in the adjoining shop marveling at beautiful pieces we could never justify, let alone afford.

Swakopmund.

Swakopmund has sand dunes, too, and we were lucky enough to spend the afternoon quad biking on them. At first it was scary, but as I cottoned on to the fact that a little bump wouldn’t necessitate falling off, and getting stuck in the sand wasn’t the worst thing, it got easier. And a whole lot more fun. By the end I was going full throttle in parts, up and down, over and around. I love a good adrenaline rush, and this was so much fun. Even my parents, who I was convinced would be freaking out, swore to me they enjoyed it. The landscape was like nothing I’d ever seen before. Sand dunes all around. In one direction, the city, and in another, the sea.

Quad-biking fun.

To add even more adventure, Simon and I went sand boarding down the dunes. It’s essentially what it sounds like – lie on a board and slide down a massive sand dune. Once we got to the bottom, our tour guide would come down on his quad bike and run us back up again. It was fun, but you get sand EVERYWHERE.

It was sad to leave Swakopmund the next day. We knew we’d come across a good thing. Certainly it was better than the next place; a place called Twyfelfontein. The lodge we stayed in was nice enough, but it was completely in the middle of nowhere. And by midday we’d done everything listed to do in about a 100km radius. We saw rock paintings, which were cool, and a ‘petrified forest’ which brought to mind something out of Harry Potter. (Unfortunately it boasts no magic, but it does have some trees trunks so old they have turned to stone). Beyond that, there isn’t much worth bringing to your attention.

Our guide showing us some rock paintings – pictures that were engraved on these rocks many thousands of years ago.

The last of our two night stops was Etosha National Park, another safari destination. It followed the same format as our safari in Botswana, but I think we saw even more animals. We even caught glimpse of a few that we hadn’t managed to see in Botswana, like hyenas. The most exciting part of Etosha was the fact that there was a watering hole literally right outside our room, and each night rhinos would come there. The first night, we saw a white rhino and a black rhino fighting it out. I’m not sure what they were fighting about, but I think every single person staying at the accommodation was gathered and watching intently. And like me, trying and failing to get a clear photo in the dark. Other animals also visited the watering hole throughout the day and night.

The rhinos at the watering hole.

I love this photo – Zebras at Etosha.

From Etosha, we drove back to Windhoek, where civilization was incredibly refreshing. On the way, we stopped in what I took to be a typical Namibian town. Poor but certainly not slum-like. There were people everywhere going about their daily business, and we were completely out of place. But I felt it was important to see the real Namibia, because I can say for certain that we didn’t see the real Botswana, nor the real Zimbabwe.

School kids.

If you’ve read this far, thanks for sticking it out. Next – and last – is Cape Town. Undoubtedly up there with my favourite cities in the world.

Just one more for good measure.

Victoria Falls

From Botswana, we crossed the border into Zimbabwe. It took us a couple of hours to get from Chobe to Victoria Falls. The entire trip, I had heard from my Dad about our wonderful accommodation in Victoria Falls. We were staying at the Victoria Falls Hotel, which I believe is the oldest hotel in Africa. It was established in 1904.

When we got there, the place felt a little bit like a mental institution. But as we moved further in, it lost its industrial feel and I warmed to the place very much. There were grand common rooms, perfectly manicured gardens and marvelous facades. Stuffed animal heads on the walls, spiral staircases and chandeliers. Formal dining and high tea – the hotel was the cherry on the cake of what was my favourite leg of the trip.

Just chilling.

The falls were completely mind blowing. Last year I was lucky enough to see Niagara Falls, but this was better. It took about 10 minutes to walk to the falls, and then there was a track which wound around to different viewpoints. It was unimaginably hot, so we declined ponchos and instead enjoyed the cool spray of the falls.

The spray coming from the falls, as seen from our hotel.

The water gushed down in what must have been millions of litres. It’s really amazing to watch and to listen to. The way I would differentiate it from Niagara is that Niagara is two straight sets of falls that you see from afar. This is more than that. It’s bigger and more varied. You can’t stand in one spot and see it all at once. But like Niagara, it does have a permanent rainbow. I don’t feel like I’m doing a very good job with the description, so have a look at my photos.

Somewhere under the rainbow…

That night, we ate dinner in one of the hotel’s three restaurants. While the food was mediocre, we were treated to some nice African music and dancing.

The next day was our adventure day. At Victoria Falls they have all kinds of activities you can do. Bungee jumping, white water rafting, flying foxes, and so forth. We started off with a helicopter ride over the falls, which was amazing. Awe-inspiring. Painful ears aside, you could use every superlative in the dictionary and still not quite do justice to the magnificent views.

The view from the helicopter.

Back on the ground and it was off to the Zambezi gorge. In terms of geography, the Victoria Falls are in between Zimbabwe and Zambia, and fall into the Zambezi river. My brother and I did the flying fox, which was pretty cool. The only scary part was running off a platform where there’s nothing underneath except a drop of about 100 metres into unfriendly waters.

Flying foxing!

And then my brother decided to do the giant swing. Craziness. You jump off a platform and free fall for 70 metres, before swinging back and forth. The swinging I would be content with, but the drop is just madness. The mother of the two girls who braved it before Simon was having a panic attack watching her kids, and listening to their profanities echo through the walls of the gorge. But brother did it twice – so it can’t have been too bad.

That afternoon, after testing out high tea at the hotel, we swam in the glorious swimming pool. Having been on safari for the previous eight days, everything the hotel had to offer was splendid. Television and free wifi were especially appreciated.

Take me back, please?

The town at Victoria Falls wasn’t much but it avoided the tackiness that overwhelms Niagara Falls. There were a few other accommodation options, shops and markets. But it was really too hot to do much exploring.

The next morning we were off to our next destination. Stay tuned for Namibia.

 

Botswana

We arrived at Maun international airport in northern Botswana on a relatively small plane – or so we thought. The real small planes were yet to come. From Maun, we were flown in a 7-seater tiny plane to our first Safari Camp, called Camp Moremi. From the air we had our first views of animals in the African wild.

Getting on the tiny plane – it was a squeeze! Not as scary as I anticipated though.

Don’t be fooled – we weren’t quite camping. Although our rooms were tents, they had teak furniture, and adjoining bathrooms with hot showers and flushing toilets. We were looked after extremely well here. The staff were friendly and welcoming. At dinner time they would sing traditional African songs to us before announcing the menu – which was consistently delicious, as were the other 5 meals they fed us each day.

Our accommodation at Camp Moremi.

Camp Moremi was the first of four safari camps we would visit in Botswana – each one for two nights. The routine is the same at each of the camps. We wake up at 5.30am, which seems ghastly, but the birds have pretty much woken you up by that time anyway. After breakfast we would set off on a safari and see what kinds of animals we could spot. We would come back to camp for lunch and a siesta, or as one of our guides called it, a ‘sleep safari.’ There are swimming pools at the sites, and many places to relax with a book in front of a beautiful, peaceful backdrop. Later in the afternoon we would head out on another safari, and come back around sunset.

Me and Simon with our guide, Lets. That was typical safari transport.

The guides are unimaginably knowledgable about everything you see, and have a knack of spotting animals which are almost invisible to the naked eye. Camp Moremi is one of a few camps inside a national park which encompasses 5000 square kilometres – not small. Our safaris at Moremi took the form of game drives, in which we bumped up and down through the rugged terrain and saw all kinds of animals in their natural habitats. It was pretty cool.

We got pretty close to this lioness.

One of my favourite photos. These are Kudu.

Camp Moremi is situated in the Okavango Delta, so we had the option to go on a boat safari one day. At the outset it was sunny and beautiful, but the weather quickly turned. Rain pelted down and the wind was so strong it blew the awning off the top of the boat. It was all well and good when the rain stopped, but at that point the engine decided to stop too. Fortunately it didn’t take too long for our guide to get the boat going again. By the time we made it back to camp we were soaked through, but buzzing with the excitement of it all.

The water of the delta was unimaginably still.

The camp where we spent the next couple of nights, Xugana, is situated on an island. We flew there on an even smaller plane than the previous trip – a mere 5 seats in this one. Aside from a few too many insects and 8-legged creatures, we were quite happy with our new lodgings. The activities on Xugana were a little bit different, given the different setting. We did another (smoother) boat safari through the wetlands, and a walking safari. My advice would be, if you’re not overly interested in birds, try to avoid being stuck with ornithologists on safari. The birds are nice enough, but there comes a certain point… snooze. We also went on a Mokoro, which is like a cross between a canoe and a gondola. The scenery was beautiful, although we did get rained on. A lot.

Dad fitting right in on the walking safari.

Sunset over the Okavango Delta.

Mokoro safari through the wetlands.

These camps hold about 20 guests, so we met travelers from a number of other countries along the way. My favourite was a couple of newlyweds from Botswana, on their honeymoon. Coming to the camp was their first time on a plane, and the young lady said she shut her eyes the entire way.

The next camp was called Savute. By this point we had seen impala, kudu, baboons, monkeys, warthogs, zebras and more. But in terms of the big animals, this is where it’s at. Elephants, giraffes, lions… I’ll let these photos do the talking.

Tasty?

Our final safari camp was called Chobe Game Lodge, based inside the enormous and well-known Chobe National Park. By this point, we were a little over safari. The 5.30 wake-ups had become a chore and, well, there’s only so many animals you can see before it starts to seem repetitive.

Can’t complain about the accommodation though…

But overall, our safari experience was fabulous. The eight days were relaxing, the food was delicious, and our Botswanian hosts provided us a wonderful introduction to their culture. The surroundings were varied and impressive, and the animals even more so. Not only did we see countless different species, but the time spent driving around allowed us to really observe animal behaviour. It was incredibly interesting – many of these creatures are very clever in the way that they survive in the wild.

Bye Botswana

In the next post, you’ll be able to read about my highlight of the trip – Victoria Falls. So stay tuned.

Soweto

I am lucky enough to have spent January 2013 traveling with my family around southern Africa. South Africa, Botswana, Zimbabwe and Namibia. Admittedly, I didn’t plan to keep a blog of this trip. But the more we did and the more we saw, the more convinced I became that Phoebe Abroad still has life left in it. Sure, I’m a month or two late, but here goes…

Our African adventure began in Johannesburg, where we landed after more than 24 hours of traveling. We fought the urge to sleep through the day and instead set off on a four hour bike tour of Soweto.

Our group’s bikes in Soweto while we took a stop.

Soweto, an acronym for South West Townships, is an area of Johannesburg known for its segregation of colored people until only a few decades ago. Indeed, ingrained in its history is the struggle against apartheid. We cycled through different parts of the town, some better off than others, and each one with a unique character.

Anything goes in Africa. Kids riding in the back of a ute.

Along the way, we would stop and our guide would feed us information about Soweto’s history as well as the way it is today. We had the opportunity to don some traditional attire, and try some locally brewed beer.

Learning about the Soweto culture from our guide.

There were a few things over the course of the day which really made an impression. Notably, in some parts of Soweto it appears that people are living in squalor. The ‘houses’ are tin sheds which are scattered around a dirty expanse. Dilapidated structures, rubbish everywhere, no proper sewage system – what you call an eye-opener for Western holiday makers like us.

Typical Soweto

But what was especially interesting was how happy and friendly the people were. Everybody we encountered said hello and welcomed us. Children were especially enthusiastic, often chasing us and wanting to shake our hands and be photographed with us. They were very cute.

This little guy was a star.

They took us to a ‘restaurant’ in this part of town, which was little more than a fly-blown tin shed with a few tables. Admittedly I was relieved to announce that I was vegetarian and could not part take in this particular repast. I was even more relived when moments later we encountered the ‘butcher’ – a wheelbarrow of uncooked meat being attacked by flies under 30-degree sun. Fortunately – perhaps miraculously – those in my family who did eat the cow cheeks (the delicacy we were offered) stayed in good health.

Later along the tour we visited the Hector Pieterson memorial, dedicated to a young teenager who became an icon in South Africa’s history. A news photograph depicts him being carried, dying, having been shot by police who opened fire on protesting students. This event is commonly known as the Soweto Uprising, and is key in apartheid history. Close by is the Hector Pieterson museum, which we did not have the chance to visit, but I’m told it is worthwhile.

The Hector Pieterson Memorial

We also saw where Nelson Mandela used to live, and where Desmond Tutu lived in the same street. Apparently it’s the only street in the world which has housed two Nobel Prize winners. I have a bit of a fondness for Desmond Tutu because he was an alumni of the university I went to in London. Hearing about him brought back memories of time spent at Tutu’s, the bar at King’s College named in his honour.

It was a thoroughly stimulating day, both mentally and physically. Perhaps a few too many inclines, but we coped. On the drive back to our hotel, we saw a soccer stadium where World Cup matches were played – more of interest to the males in the family, but aesthetically it was cool nonetheless. We glimpsed the Johannesburg city skyline, including the tallest building in Africa. Although we didn’t go into the city itself, I didn’t feel like I was missing out on anything spectacular. Having said that, it was interesting for me to be in Johannesburg, because a couple of my closest friends were born there. Now I can say I’ve been to their home country.

FNB Stadium

On our one night in Johannesburg I did something I haven’t done since I was a young child – and was thrilled to be able to do. I slept through new year’s eve. Seeing as we had come off the plane at 6.30am and stuck out the entire day, we were exhausted.

The next morning we flew to Botswana to begin our Safari. More to come of course.