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On the road at 7:30. Kobus, whom we met our first day here, is subbing for JP as our driver and tour guide today. It is a beautiful day once again, and we have an ambitious schedule ahead.
We drive directly to the Waterfront. Again trouble finding a parking spot in the garage, probably because of Mothers' Day. They have an interesting innovation in this parking garage. Each spot is monitored by a detector, and a red or green light indicates whether the spot is taken. So you can scan your eyes around the garage, looking for green lights. In addition, the data is rolled up and displayed at every intersection; e.g., 5 spots available to the left, 19 to the right. And outside on the street before you enter the garage, you can see before entering how many spots are left. A brilliant system. Violet says that they have a similar at TD Place.
We pick up a quick breakfast of yoghurt and croissants from a stand. Then it's on to the dock to board a boat to Robben Island.
Robben Island, as you may know, was for many centuries a prison. It is a bit like
Robben Island landscape
Robben Island, Cape Town, SAAlcatraz in that it is an island prison offshore a major city, although in this case it is 12 miles away. Its recent notoriety reflects the fact that Nelson Mandela was imprisoned here for 18 of the 27 years he served as a political prisoner. You will remember that Mandela was officially released from another prison that we saw two days ago, but Robben Island is the crucible where Mandela was forged into the man who would basically save South Africa. The island has been turned into a museum to the memory of those dark days.
On arrival, we are boarded onto buses and given a tour of the island. First are the remains of an old leper colony with a cemetery carefully divided by colour. Other buildings include an Irish Catholic Church, guard's quarters, and various buildings used to house prisoners, including the maximum security area built by prisoners themselves. Perhaps the saddest building is the one where activist Robert Subokwe was held in solitary confinement for 3 years. He saw no one but the guards, who were forbidden to speak to him.
We also stop briefly by the sandstone quarry where prisoners, Mandela included, spent 8
hours a day in the hot sun breaking rocks to meet their daily quotas. What were the broken rocks used for? Nothing; it was pure punishment. There is a small cave at the far end of the quarry that is famous in the Mandela story as the place where prisoners on break were able to discuss and study.
We alight at the far end of the island facing Cape Town and Table Mountain. The shore is rocky and covered with kelp and seabirds. There are a few penguins here. Inland the land is flat and dry, with only hardy shrubs and grasses growing plus the occasional lonely tree. A bit reminiscent of the Falklands.
We reboard the buses and are taken to the maximum security facility we saw earlier. There we are met by a former inmate who spent five years here before all political prisoners were freed. He provides a matter-of-fact but chilling depiction of life in this hell hole. Prisoners slept on the floor, 50 to a room, unless they were given a single cell, as Mandela was. We get to see the actual cell where he spent so many years, one of dozens of identical
8 x 6 rooms with a bed, table, wash basin and nothing more.
The adjoining exercise yard, where prisoners were given 15 minutes a day to stretch, is swelteringly hot even now. It must have been brutal in the summer. There's a small garden at one end with a few hardy plants and lots of rocks, one of Mandela's innovations. Mandela used to hide the notes for his diary in the garden.
We return on foot to the dock and await our turn to board the ship for the homeward journey. I have to say that I was deeply moved by the visit to Robben Island. To think that anyone (and of course I'm thinking of one man in particular), was able to emerge from an experience like this with a thirst not for vengeance but for understanding and reconciliation is mind-boggling.
Back at the Cape Town Waterfront, we rejoin Kobus and detour to the chocolate shop to pick up our special order. Next is lunch at a restaurant named Balducci, which, as you might expect, specializes in Italian food. We have a delay getting a table even with a reservation because of Mother's Day. I have
Nelson Mandela's cell
Robben Island, Cape Town SA kingklip (a SA eel) and Violet a lamb curry with egg plant parmigiana. (OK, it doesn't sound very Italian.)
After lunch, Kobus takes us to the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens. We are met by Howard, a somewhat quirky individual with an encyclopedic knowledge of the trees and plants of South Africa. He drives us in his noisy and stinky golf-cart-like bus around the property, animatedly describing every plant, flower and tree we meet. A little ho-hum for me, but the womenfolk are very interested. The highlight is a suspended boardwalk through the canopy layer of a rain forest such as found in the northern parts of SA.
The botanical garden is filled with families on this Mothers' Day, which seems to be a big deal here. Families are strolling, picnicking, playing simple games everywhere you look. And everyone seems to be in a good mood. We repeatedly wave at the kids as we rumble by in our stinky conveyance.
Back in the van in a rush to make the last gondola to the top of Table Mountain. But all the families are leaving the park at the same time and there is a massive traffic jam! Captive as
we are in the car, we have an interesting conversation with Kobus about SA politics. Kobus is a former teacher, BTW. He tells us that people of his generation (he is the same age as I) continue to feel an obligation to support the ANC because it is Mandela's party and the organization that beat apartheid. However, the next generation feels no such obligation and cracks are starting to appear in support for the ANC. The main opposition party, the Democratic Alliance, is putting forward good ideas and gaining support. I suggest that the ultimate victory for democracy in SA will be the defeat of the ANC. Kobus agrees, but says he will support the ANC till he dies.
The traffic jam has not let up, and we end up missing the last car up Table Mountain by just a few minutes. What a shame on such a beautiful day.
As a plan B we return to the Waterfront so the women can pick up some merchandise they saw earlier. I avail myself of the opportunity to strike out for another mall where Kobus thinks I can buy a lens cap for my camera, which has gone missing.
The Waterfront is absolutely packed, mostly with families trying to find a place to eat. There are bands playing on every corner and Happy Mothers' Day banners flying. My quest for a lens cap is successful.
Time for supper. Kobus drives down to Camp's Bay and takes us to what he swears is the best steak restaurant in town, called the Hussar Grill. South Africans are very proud of their meat and this restaurant really is excellent. I have a fillet mignon stuffed with oysters and cheese and covered with a cream sauce, while Violet has Beef Wellington, flamed at her place.
Kobus has one last stop planned for us. It is now completely dark. He drives up Lion's Head and then on to Signal Hill, the latter, he informs us with a laugh, being the city's primary make-out location. At the top of Signal Hill we stop to gaze at the city lights below. Absolutely beautiful. We can see all parts of the city from here. Table Mountain is now dark and mysterious. I also enjoy looking up at the stars, which are so different from home. It makes me realize that I am truly in a
different part of the world.
Back to the resort and to bed. A long but very satisfying day. We have really enjoyed our time with Kobus.
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