Cape Town Take I: Table Mountain & Robben Island

My first trip to South Africa lasted less than 24 hours. Enough time to deplane, shower, eat and sleep, before boarding a second flight bound for Namibia.

I saw only hotel room walls, marble lobbies and cool water pools.

I left knowing as much about the place as when I’d arrived.

So when the August holiday rolled around it seemed only natural to return to the country where Nam 27 had gotten its Africa start. Rachel and I wanted to spend a couple of weeks exploring the South African countryside, following the world-famous Garden Route and learning about the nation’s culture and history (which are both closely linked to Namibia’s).



Our adventure began in Cape Town, following a 19-hour, overnight bus ride from Windhoek. (One that had us waiting at customs in the freezing cold at 3 a.m.) We were exhausted upon arrival, but also eager to see the city. It was amazing—clean, busy, continental. And while the scenic mountains and crystal clear ocean surrounding it were absolutely breathtaking, I’d be lying it I said they were my favorite part. Instead, this former New Yorker relished the tar roads, city sidewalks, and yes—real coffee in paper cups (with soy milk at no extra charge).

It was absolutely glorious.



We spent most of our first day exploring the city. For me, this meant eating nachos and drinking Coronas at a few of the Mexican joints that lined Long Street. Sure, these two things are not uniquely (or even remotely) South African. But after 10 months in a culinary vacuum I was excited to see my favorites from a former life.

By day two, with our bellies finally full, we were ready to see the sites. We’d been warned that the weather in Cape Town would likely be terrible—cold, cloudy, rainy and wet. But at 8 a.m. the skies were clear and blue and the sun was shining. The conditions were perfect for hiking Table Mountain.



We’d read somewhere that the walk from town to the mountain wasn’t much fun, and other travelers recommended taking a taxi. But taxis cost money and we were rocking a serious budget. So Rachel and I decided, fun or not, we were walking the 10k from our hostel.

The route was scenic. It rolled through city streets and up wooded residential areas, passed beautiful houses and interesting shops. But less than 2k in we realized what made the trek so absolutely heinous: It was straight up vertical. We weren’t even to the mountain and already were in need of walking sticks, water and a serious rest. (And, it seemed, a membership to a gym.)

But we pressed on, and with 1k left to go, took a lift from a crazy combi driver who thought we were the insane ones for even attempting to hoof it up the hills. We’d hiked enough on the walk there, so Rachel and I swallowed our pride (and forked over the R80) and rode the cable car to the top of Table Mountain.

The views were amazing.



We spent a couple of hours exploring the paths (and the gift shop) before taking the cable car down and heading to Robben Island. For the record, this notorious prison is on the opposite side of Cape Town. We, of course, learned this the hard way. It's also one of the biggest tourist destinations in the country.

I’d read Long Walk to Freedom in preparation for our trip and was eager to see the place where Nelson Mandela had spent so many years of his life.

Unfortunately, this was as close as we got:



The day’s trips to the prison were fully booked and with other plans for the following two days, it was the one opportunity we had to visit. I was disappointed it didn’t pan out, but tried not to get discouraged. After all, I saved R130. And well, it probably would have been a lot like the book anyway.