The Energy Crisis – South Africa’s, not mine.
Well, by any other name… I had not personally fallen victim to a “load shed” until today – the one day Barry and I had planned to go to the main Cape Town Library to do some historical research. He fetched me from Upper Orange Street after dance class and we drove downtown. It was hot and slightly windy. The pavements wee dusty from the construction that is happening all over. In all the time I lived in Cape Town I don’t remember ever going to the Central Library – branch libraries were adequate for my needs at that time.
So I signed in, paid my 5 rand to get a locker to deposit my bag, and wandered around till a friendly librarian showed me the computer system. I had literally just completed my first search and was pulling up the first result when – lights out, computer off. Eskom had load-shed the downtown core. It was just around lunch time and cafes and restaurants were left unable to service their customers, card machines did not work etc. etc. Unbelievable. So that was the end of my research afternoon.
Swimming with the Penguins- really!
The Boulders is a reserve for the Cape Penguin, who used to be known as Jackass Penguins for the sounds they make. There is a huge colony there. I will let the pictures speak for themselves. The beach at Boulders was as beautiful as I remembered it but I couldn’t help thinking that penguins probably pee in the water just like humans, although probably less surreptitiously. Hmmm…..
Just to comment that the water at Muizenberg, which I fondly remember as relatively warm, was freezing cold. Well according to Brin it was around 17 degrees. Cold by my standards. Still I swam at both the Boulders and Muizenberg. At Muizenberg I was horrified to hear they have to have shark spotters stationed on the mountainside overlooking the bay as there have been shark attacks. Getting to be like Australia! Anyway, although I did not venture out any where near where sharks would venture, I did not stay in the water very long!
We had brunch at a lovely little restaurant and bakery in Muizenberg called Kneads, meandered around Westlake looking for a dance shop that I found on the internet – the dance shoes here definitely fit me better than the British and German imports I have tried in Vancouver. Then a dash back for dance lesson at Camps Bay, and later dinner at Greens, in Tamboers Kloof with Brin, Sherida, Gaby and Hayden
Craving Curry
The morning started off with another unpredictable Rikki ride to dance class at 9 am. After it took twenty minutes and several dropped cellphone calls to get through to the dispatch, I was told “ the cab will be there in 4 minutes!”. Ha! So even though I know by now that 4 minutes could be anything from 10 to 20 minutes I rushed like mad to get downstairs. The cab actually arrived in about 8 minutes. Then we went on a majorly circuitous route that got me to the Scout Hall with about 10 minutes to spare.
Two hours of very energetic Latin and I was absolutely drenched but totally exhilarated by the time we were finished. Another circuitous Rikki ride got me back to the flat by just after noon. The average temperature has hovered between 29 and 31 so even after a cool shower, in no time at all I was feeling hot and rather unmotivated to move much.
Cape Malay cuisine is a spicy, often stew based style of cooking, that grew out of the food prepared by the cooking of the slaves from Indonesia, originally brought to the Cape by the Dutch East India Company. Bobotie, mince meat stewed with apricots, raisins and brown sugar, and tomato bredie, a rich stew often made from mutton or lamb, are two of the foods I remember from childhood. But curries of all kinds are also a common food, characteristic of this cuisine.
Weirdly, since I normally avoid curry at home, I was craving curry. So with a wide choice of restaurants, we headed down to the Cape Malay restaurant at the Portsmouth Hotel for supper. The lamb curry I had was good with a bit more of a bite than I find tolerable but in between mouthfuls, water helped. We tried their samosas but frankly I have had better ones in Vancouver. The pastry was very thick and doughy. However the setting was attractive. And I did not get indigestion despite the strength of the “mild” curry.
More Memories
I thought a few more pictures rather than words would be best for today. The low building in the foreground of the apartment complex is Forest Hill, the complex where Bob and I had our first apartment when we were married in my fourth year of med school. The second picture is the view looking up at Rhodes Memorial and the third looking over the peninsula from the memorial.
Fish and Chips at Hout Bay
I realize that most of my photos involve people sitting round a table ready to eat. Or else beaches and mountains. More coming.Brin and Sherida fetched me at around 10 am. It was already blazing hot. I had a swim suit on under my shorts and was eagerly anticipating a swim in the warmer waters on the south-west side of the peninsula. We picked up Sandra, Sherida’s sister, who lives on High Level Road in a flat with an amazing view out over the ocean, and the 4 of us drove out to Hout Bay.
I remembered it as a quiet small village where people used to drive out to for tea on a Sunday afternoon. Then it went through a period of being the “in-“ place to stay and some magnificent homes were built out there. In the last ten years horrendous squatters’ camps have metastasized up the mountainside. Polluted water drains down into the bay and even the water on the beach has an unclean brownish appearance.
The living conditions in these squatters’ areas and in the “townships” just off the main roadways are horrendous – corrugated iron shacks with no running water.. Illegally linked wires tap electricity from the main grid contributing to the major energy crisis. I wonder how many people have been electrocuted just trying to hook up these power lines?
Anyway the drive around the mountain to Hout Bay was as always stunning in the sheer magnificence of mountain and ocean but the wind howled and beat at the bushes and trees. At the beach we went ahead with our plans to go for a long walk but the combination of howling wind and polluted water put an end to any thought of swimming in my mind. What a shame. W ell, we are planning to go to The Boulders and Muizenberg on Wednesday, very early in the morning. Hopefully I will get at least one ocean swim in before I leave.
An “African” Experience
Maybe it was just the heat but I was not very impressed with any of the wines that I tasted today. I found the white wines, mainly sauvignon blanc and chenin blancs very thin for want of a better word and I am not much of a red wine drinker. So after the second tasting we decided to go back to Sea Point for a rest and shower before driving back to Stellenbosch to Moyo, the restaurant at Spiers.Brin drove Sherida, Barry, Carole and me out and we met Nathan and Edina who came in their own car. We were seated round a large table outside the main tent in a tree sheltered courtyard, which we appreciated. A breeze kept us reasonably cool.
They have a very extensive buffet with stations identified as fish, salads, venison etc. The meats were very interesting. There were gemsbok steaks, ostrich brochettes, sausages made of game as well as beef, lamb chops, curries: it just went on and on. They served three kinds of bread rolls to start- an onion-coconut topping looked promising but the breads were dry and not very flavourful. The salads were plentiful as were the desserts. I avoided the sweet stuff and thank heavens there was a variety of fruit.
African singers and dancers provided entertainment. They have some one there who paints your face. The pained expression on my face in the picture is because it had just occurred to me that she just dips the brush in the paint and then touches your face with it. No cleaning in between victims. Not very hygienic! An interesting evening. It was nice to have some time with Nathan and Edina, who is just about at term. Hopefully I will see the new baby before I leave.
A tropical heat wave
Heat WaveThe heat here has been unrelenting with highs over 35 degrees. Fortunately the humidity is not too bad. We had planned to drive out to wine country for some tastings and Carole had booked for dinner at Moyo, an African restaurant at Speirs, one of the large wine farms near Stellenbosch. So the idea was to drive out in the morning and visit a number of wineries before dinner. But in view of the extreme heat we decided that we would drive back into town to shower and change before going out for dinner.
Left around 10 to drive out to Fransch Hoek with the objective of having lunch at a restaurant called Reubens. Carole told me that this was voted the best restaurant in
I remember when a trip to Stellenbosch or Fransch Hoek was at the very least a week-end outing. Ok I guess I am dating myself! But now the roads are great and it’s about an hour’s drive from Sea Point. So I can see how folks would drive out there for dinner. Carole was not sure if we would be able to get in without a reservation but since it was lunch we thought we would take a chance. The efficient hostess seated us in the courtyard with no delay. A breeze (euphemism) kept the temperature comfortable and thank heavens no one was smoking.
We’re having a heat wave
Not much to report other than the heat. Although my dance class started at nine it was already hot. Had a great class- worked on rumba, samba and foxtrot and really felt I was making progress. Took a Rikki back uneventfully
On Broadway
That evening I asked Barry and Carole to join me at another dinner theatre show downtown. The venue was a club called On Broadway. It’s a long room with a row of tables on a raised dais lining each long wall and many more tables in the central well of the room. We were about three tables back from the raised stage and had an excellent view. The show was called “Strictly Come Jazz”, a play on the title of “Strictly Come Dancing” which is the
Ride into Danger?
On his way to work, Barry dropped me off at the Scout Hall for my dance class at 9. I was sitting on a bench trying to figure out the cell phone Carole had loaned me when Edwin arrived. He gave me a strict warning about never using the cell phone in the street or in an exposed environment. Apparently it is a very common occurrence that phones will be snatched out of one’s hands. Nice. And I was just beginning to feel a greater sense of security.
After class I phoned for a Rikki to pick me up at Carluccis, just down the road. They said 5 minutes. About 15 minutes later a Rikki pulled up across the road and someone got out. I assumed that this was the one I was waiting for (South African time being what it is) so when he pulled around in front of the restaurant, I got in. I was the only passenger. As we drove off the driver said to me “if your phone rings don’t answer it”. “Why?” says I, suddenly anxious. After Edwin’s dire warnings about always being aware of one’s surroundings had I unwittingly done something foolish and dangerous? Broken some unwritten law of Rikki riding? Was I about to be "taken for a ride" and disappear into the vast unknown beyond the local twenty rand fare zone?
Stopped at a traffic light (robot in SouthAfricaspeak) the gaunt, white haired, sunken eyed driver twisted around and said “I stole a ride, don’t answer your phone.”
So it turned out that he was just dropping the other guy off and saw the opportunity to pick up another passenger and the poor driver who was dispatched to pick me up was now waiting outside Carlucci’s and his fare was gone. I could hear the radio crackling and the voice of the other driver saying "I'm at Carlucci's and there is no one here!"
