DAY 4 – Thursday – 9/6/18 – Table Mountain, Cape Town City Tour and Local Family-Hosted Dinner
“Smoke on the Water” blasted us out of bed at 6:00 to ready ourselves for breakfast at 6:30 and be on the bus by 7:00. Eggs Benedict? You betcha! Chicken, beef and pork sausages? Uh huh! Standing in line for coffee? Hell yeah! Breakfast was becoming as comfortable and predictable as a pair of fuzzy slippers.
We all dutifully boarded the bus like the bots we had become. Laurence had changed up the seating chart, but it was merely a serving suggestion. Chaos reigned in a very orderly fashion as far as seating went. Jean and I had alternated sitting in the back to allow for more stretch out room in our assigned seats. The Chinese people did the same thing, and there were several of the seats populated by a single man or woman. It became a sort of encampment.
Laurence had advised us to bring plenty of warm clothes, since Cape Town was a little chilly itself and Table Mountain was gonna be downright cold. He always tended to err on the side of “too many clothes is better than not enough clothes.” I always downgraded his suggestions by a built-in factor and came out perfect every time.
On the way to Table Mountain we passed several landmarks in Cape Town that Laurence told us about. We saw Parliament, the Bridge to Nowhere and several other sites as we whizzed by in the bus. The bridge to nowhere (Foreshore Freeway Bridge) was started and never finished years ago. Why? Several urban legends have surfaced over the years. One is that the design team had made a calculation error resulting in the two ends failing to link up. Another was that construction was halted due to a disgruntled shop owner who refused to sell his property that stood where the flyover would pass. However, the official explanation to date is that the city had run out of money with traffic numbers at the time not justifying its continuation and the project had to be abandoned. Laurence told us that they had recently held an engineering design competition for either completion or alternate use. He said that a winner had been selected, but the design had not been announced.
As we neared Table Mountain, we got several good views of Lion’s Head from a great angle. The steep, winding road up to the base of Table Mountain opened up into parking full of a bunch of buses — but not as many as it would eventually hold. We were actually there at the beginning of the tour day. It appeared that we were going to be able to go up, though there was a biting wind. It was going to be two times worse once we were at the top. And Jean had forgotten her jacket. She only had on a sweater. I assured her she could have mine if she needed it.
We snaked our way through the line until we were at the cable car station. I got some great shots of the cars going up and down through the fog while we waited. Laurence had told us that the engingeering was done by a Swiss company (natch), and that the bottoms of the cars rotated 360 degrees while ascending and descending. There was an involuntary shiver of acrophobia running through my body, but I squelched it pretty fast. But those cables looked mighty flimsy. While we were waiting, we also noticed tiny figures ascending the mountain on a trail. It turns out that people do it all the time. It’s actually on several tours. The path up is made of all rocks. Not exactly steps. It looked treacherous to me. I could imagine falling over backwards. It seemed like it would be easy to do. Jean talked to some guy that ran up and down the trail for sport. Suddenly the cable cars looked even more sensible, flimsy cable or not.
When our car landed in the loading pod, the previous occupants exited to the right and our group poured in like a bunch of wild kindergarteners. Everybody was trying to get to the unobstructed window spaces. There was a sign warning against sitting on the ledge by the operator since the bottom was going to rotate, and the ledge seat rotated as well. I tried to get some shots out of the car but was unsuccessful because of the hogs that blocked every possible avenue and stayed there taking picture after picture. We encountered this type of rudeness throughout the trip, whether it was on the cable car or when trying to take shots from some of the safari cruises we took.
Once we reached the top, we carefully exited the car so as not to fall through the crack between it and the landing platform and plunge to our deaths. I don’t think there was any danger of that, of course, but caution seemed appropriate nevertheless.
The wind hit us instantly, but it really wasn’t unbearable at all. Jean didn’t need my jacket, and I wouldn’t have died if I had had to give it up. The terrain was all rock – beautiful rock – with a smattering of plants growing here and there. And also some animals that I thought were some kind of squirrel darting about and nestling in the crevices of rock. I later found out that they were rock rabbits. Officially called the Rock Hyrax, they are locally known as the Dassie (from Old Dutch “dasje,” meaning “badger”). Table Mountain is the perfect habitat for these little guys, because they are able to hide in the various nooks and crannies from their worst predator – the Black Eagle.
The views from Table Mountain were breathtaking to say the least, with panoramas from all sides. I took several shots with the Canon and a 
couple of groovy panoramas with the iPhone. The weather was gorgeous, sunny and clear, and the photography reflected it. Louisa and I wandered around taking a bunch of pictures while Jean and Whanger enjoyed a bench seat.
As we were preparing to leave, we noticed a lot of cloud cover moving in. We were fortunate to miss it, because the groups that came after us were et up with it. As Laurence said, the conditions can change in the blink of an eye.
As we were roaming around the base waiting to board the bus, Louisa came up and told us of meeting a couple from Birmingham! He was an IT guru and was in South Africa for some sort of meet-up with like minded people. He and his wife came walking up right about then and we all had a jolly introduction. We got his card, called it a meeting and fantasized about deducting the trip as a business expense.
It was time to load the bus in our newly-minted haphazard fashion. Jacob welcomed all of us warmly as we boarded. We were headed to the Victoria and Alfred Waterfront, preceded by a visit to Shimansky Jewelers & Diamond Museum. A light rain had begun to fall, and as we looked up at Table Mountain, it was obscured by a gigantic cloud. We had truly lucked out with our timing.
Jean’s back was angry. We were first going to Shimansky to learn about diamonds and their other centerpiece stone, tanzanite. On the way there, Laurence told us all about Cecil Rhodes and how he came to Africa at 19 and launched himself in the diamond trade. By the time we got to Shimansky, we were pretty well versed in all things diamond. Laurence told us tales of the gigantic uncut gems that had been discovered in Africa. All the famous ones were from there. Some of the crown jewels, even.
We got out of the bus in a light rain and made it over to Shimansky – Jean lagging behind from pain. There, Laurence told us the schedule. We were going to do the diamond tour, then were left to our own devices. We could either go back to the hotel on the bus, or hang around the Victoria and Alfred waterfront. It seemed that it was a gigantic mall, though it was 
atmospheric. We lined up outside Shimansky and filed in to take the guided tour of a bunch of displays and graphics that illustrated the history of the diamond industry in South Africa. It was quite interesting and enlightening. The tour dumped out into the Shimansky showroom, where they plied us with wine and encouraged us to belly up to the display counters and buy something. No dice. We found chairs and waited on the rest of the folks.
We decided to explore the waterfront on a limited basis with Louisa and Whanger, but first wanted to get some food. The Cape Town Fish Market located right next to the cool clock tower looked like a likely place. We got several kinds of prawns and other assorted delights. I got an Ono Poke bowl that was spectacular. Our waiter was solicitous and fantastic. All the servers were. And we had a view of the clock tower from our table.
After lunch we headed toward the shops and traversed the waterfront. Got several shots of the beauty there with a darkening sky for dramatic effect. It was gorgeous. Instead of heading to the mall part of the waterfront, we passed a display of four bronze statues of South African notables: Desmond Tutu and Nelson Mandela included in the group. We saw a large 
structure like an airplane hangar that featured local artworks and handicrafts. We figured it would be far superior to seeing stores that we already knew and couldn’t afford, so we headed in there. I wasn’t really expecting much, being as places such as that were usually kinda lame, but I was immediately blown away by the beautiful stuff that was in there. The first things we encountered that I loved were stuffed African animals made from a myriad of brilliant fabrics.
They ended up being about 30 bucks American, and though they were a little more than I would have liked to pay, they seemed almost affordable. We walked on down further and saw other stuff – beautiful handmade purses of all types, and a display of about six local artists. The work was spectacular, and I had a good exchange with one of the artists lamenting the arduous task of selling work to the public like that. We went through the whole litany of annoying comments such as: “I really like the frame,” or “My kid could do that,” or “Will you take less?” It was an international bonding experience and it brought the Magic City Art Connection days back in kaleidoscopic focus.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t get the stuffed animals out of my mind, and told Jean I was going back to get a couple of them for Charlie and Evie. I got Charlie an elephant (natch) and a hippo for Evie.
When it was time to leave the place, we had the option of going to the mall part of V&A or going to the Two Oceans Aquarium. Being a sucker for such things, we opted for the aquarium.
It was beautiful and enlightening, with great displays and a couple of huge tanks that featured several sharks. They were looming reminders of Louisa’s and my impending dive with the sharks the following morning. I wasn’t apprehensive about the actual diving. I was more pent up about having to get up at 4 to be on the bus at 5, the unknown aspect of the whole thing, and having to find a way to wriggle my big ass into a wet suit.
When it was time to leave, we at first tried to find the bus to the hotel, which Laurence had told us loaded up at a certain location on the quarter hour. The trek to this unknown place was going to be long, and Jean’s back wasn’t having any of it. 
Louisa and Whanger had gotten far ahead of us on the journey to the bus, and we kept getting farther and farther behind because of the pace Jean was
forced to take. We also didn’t need to be late and miss the bus because the evening’s meal was the optional home-hosted event that we had all signed up for. We wisely decided to get a cab. It wasn’t going to be expensive, seeing as the hotel wasn’t far, and the rand was so weak. It turned out to be the very best idea.
Our cab driver was really nice, and got us to the hotel quickly. Once we got to the lobby, Jean discovered a tangled knot of real estate awaiting her. She was uncertain as to whether she could attend the home-hosted dinner. I agreed with her that business took precedence in this case. We were just going to be one short at the dinner. The high school friends contingent of the group was sitting around having drinks, and heard that Jean wasn’t going to go. Louisa asked if one of them wanted to take Jean’s place, and Linda I piped up enthusiastically. It was all set! I had a different date for dinner.
Meanwhile, we had discovered that our shark dive was going to be later the next day. We weren’t going to leave the hotel until 9:30 instead of 5. That sounded better, but it also put a crimp in our lunch plans. Jean and Whanger were going whale watching while we shark dove, and Jean had booked a reservation at world-famous Bientang’s Cave in Hermanus. https://www.bientangscave.com/?utm_source=tripadvisor&utm_medium=referral We were gonna all meet up there after our excursions. There was no way Louisa and I could make it, so Jean and Whanger were gonna go anyway and meet us at the shark dive with their hired driver.
Went back up to the room and made a drink from the bottle of Meyers’s I had brought from home. Jean meanwhile began to untangle the knot she was presented with. It was a real joy for her to deal with the 8 hour time difference, hotel wi-fi and every other assorted thorn in the side of the deal. I hated to leave her, but she would have been a wreck if she weren’t able to work on the problem.
They had a small bus waiting for us out front. Gayle and Bob were going to be coming late due to some other activity. Linda I and I got acquainted quickly on the way to the dinner. She told me about selling their home in the Outer Banks of North
Carolina and moving to the family farm. It turns out they had sold just in the nick of time. Hurricane Florence was looming and wasn’t going to be pretty.
I didn’t know what to expect regarding the dinner. What would the family be like? Would they eat with us? What would we have? We finally pulled into a driveway in a modest neighborhood and all jumped out to be greeted by Bevan and Glynis, our hosts, and their two children. I loved the names. Very English! They were affable and welcoming. A long table for 14 spanning dining room and living room had been set for us and we immediately sat down. Glynis brought out several delicious dishes of chicken and vegetables. Bevan plopped several bottles of wine down at his end and
began to pass it around. Nice African wine! Meanwhile, Gayle and Bob appeared just in time. We all chatted animatedly during the dinner, and the company warmed up with the copious amount of wine being passed out.
The bathroom was a necessary stop for me. I’m old. But I got a great shot of the anthropomorphic flush button on the toilet. When I returned, Glynis was serving her dessert. I can’t remember the name of it, but it was incredible. She promised to give out the recipe. I don’t know if that ever happened.
We said our goodbyes to this lovely family and piled back into the bus. Linda and I continued our conversation about real estate and God on the way home. A great bonding experience.
When I got to the room, Jean was still embroiled in the real estate kerfuffle. We finally got to bed, later than normal, which made me even more glad our shark excursion was scheduled for later than originally planned.