P.S. -- Jenn still wants a goat.
Africa - September 1, 2012
Posted by
Jenn
Can't believe we say goodbye to Africa today. Our flight isn't until 8pm, but the lovelies at The Backpack are letting us stow our things in a locked storage room so we can explore Cape Town one last time.
First stop: Biscuit Mill Market. This restored mill in an up-and-coming section of town is packed every Saturday morning with dozens of chefs, baristas, and vendors selling every kind of gourmet, organic, fair-trade food imaginable.* We three feasted on breakfast crepes, then wandered from stall to stall drooling over patés, French pastries, Thai noodle dishes, hearty soups, local honey, and biltong. Bought several delicate, pastel macaroons for the road.**
Following our cabbie's advice, we bought tickets for a Red Bus tour so we could spend the day checking out the entire city, hopping on and off whenever we wanted. Worked our way up to Table Mountain, which thankfully had emerged from the previous day's cloud shroud. Took a cable car 3,500 feet to the top,*** where we were rewarded with spectacular views of the city -- and a look at Robben Island, where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned for 27 years.****
The diversity of plant life on the mountain is staggering. More then 2,200 species are found here, so many that this small area was named the Cape Floristic Region, one of only six scientifically-recognized floral kingdoms in the world.
After returning to earth, we boarded a bus back to the V&A Waterfront, where we had a final fabulous three-course meal at the 100-year-old Hildebrand Ristorante***** before heading to the airport.
After a twelve-hour flight from Cape Town, we have nine hours to play in London before beginning the final leg home. So we've fled Heathrow to walk about and visit the Tate Modern. Our wonderful tourmates Terry and Tamara were on the same flight, and they showed us the best Tube route to the museum. Highlights: Oskar Fischinger's multimedia piece, a canvas by my favorite artist Lee Krasner, and the total sensory overload of the Poetry & Dream gallery. What a fitting way to end our adventure, which so often felt like a dream.
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Brad's footnotes:
* Columbusites, it was like our Market Days downtown on Saturdays, but on crack -- and with a bent toward exquisitely crafted foods over fresh veggies. Makeshift tables were made of old doors propped on sawhorses, just like in Bibb City!
** Biltong is like what we call jerky, but a bit softer and tangier, as there's vinegar in the curing. It's awesome. Kate talked a nice local man into selling us all of his warthog biltong with a conversation that started thusly:
Kate: Hi. We're from America.
Man (with complete sarcasm): No! Really?
*** Proud of Jenn, who never puked despite both the car's glass walls and my comment that they should've also made the floor out of glass.
**** And left the prison a man of peace and a champion.
***** Thanks to the Hildrebrand, which fed us on credit despite the fact that stupid CitiBank appeared to put a "suspicious halt" on our MasterCard, despite the fact that we called ahead of the trip to tell them where we'd be. Trust no one on these matters, people.
Pastries at Cape Town's Biscuit Mill Market. |
Cape Town, seen from the Red Bus. |
Robben Island as seen from Table Mountain. |
After returning to earth, we boarded a bus back to the V&A Waterfront, where we had a final fabulous three-course meal at the 100-year-old Hildebrand Ristorante***** before heading to the airport.
____
After a twelve-hour flight from Cape Town, we have nine hours to play in London before beginning the final leg home. So we've fled Heathrow to walk about and visit the Tate Modern. Our wonderful tourmates Terry and Tamara were on the same flight, and they showed us the best Tube route to the museum. Highlights: Oskar Fischinger's multimedia piece, a canvas by my favorite artist Lee Krasner, and the total sensory overload of the Poetry & Dream gallery. What a fitting way to end our adventure, which so often felt like a dream.
Lee Krasner's "Gothic Landscape" at the Tate Modern. |
Brad's footnotes:
* Columbusites, it was like our Market Days downtown on Saturdays, but on crack -- and with a bent toward exquisitely crafted foods over fresh veggies. Makeshift tables were made of old doors propped on sawhorses, just like in Bibb City!
** Biltong is like what we call jerky, but a bit softer and tangier, as there's vinegar in the curing. It's awesome. Kate talked a nice local man into selling us all of his warthog biltong with a conversation that started thusly:
Kate: Hi. We're from America.
Man (with complete sarcasm): No! Really?
*** Proud of Jenn, who never puked despite both the car's glass walls and my comment that they should've also made the floor out of glass.
**** And left the prison a man of peace and a champion.
***** Thanks to the Hildrebrand, which fed us on credit despite the fact that stupid CitiBank appeared to put a "suspicious halt" on our MasterCard, despite the fact that we called ahead of the trip to tell them where we'd be. Trust no one on these matters, people.
Africa - August 31, 2012
Posted by
Jenn
Toilet Hippo pour la maison. Oh la la.
|
Lovely Kate at Charly's. |
* I'm warm-natured, so this was the first time I needed to use one of these magical devices. Boiling water goes in, and it stayed roasty for, like, six hours.
** I was cranky that they abandoned me for lunch, without money or energy to walk about and find something. But then I remembered I had half of a giant muffin left from Charly's Bakery -- an awesome stop (and another recommendation from Toni at The Backpack) that I'd had enough energy for that morning.
Africa - August 30, 2012
Posted by
Jenn
Both cute and obnoxious. |
Back to the guesthouse for yet another fabulous breakfast (can't...button...pants...), then drove an hour home to Cape Town proper. With help from our friend Toni at The Backpack, Kate arranged for a Cape Malay cooking tour this afternoon. Cape Malay culture is unique to Cape Town,** its roots going back to the Sumatran slaves taken from their homes by Dutch colonists. The cuisine incorporates a wonderful blend of sweet and savory -- dishes use garlic, ginger, chili, curry, fennel, cumin, coriander seed, bay leaf, cardamom, and lots of turmeric.
Rollin' roti. Yeah, that's right. |
Faldela was born in District Six, and as we ate together, we learned much about race relations in South Africa, both before and after Mandela's release from prison. It's horrifying to imagine that only twenty years ago, we would have all been arrested for conspiracy, just for eating a meal with friends of mixed races.
After lunch, Nizaam took us to the Atlas Spice Shop, where I bought so many bags of spices that I had to give away some of my clothes to make room in the backpack.**** Pretty sure I have my priorities straight.
Bo Kaap district, known for its Cape Malay cuisine. |
Brad's footnotes:
* It was actually called the Jackass Penguin for a while.
** Definitely unique, but closely related to Indian cuisine (despite the "Malaysia" implication).
*** Faldela told Jenn to let me make the roti in our house. Not a reflection on Jenn's work, which was just fine, so much as an acknowledgement of my mad skillz.
**** The place sells curry, coriander, tarragon -- all the stuff we get in the tiny little glass bottles on the spice rack -- in giant bulk barrels, like trail mix at Fresh Market. It smelled awesome, at least if you didn't feel like crap because you were unknowingly coming down with the African Death Flu.
***** He didn't offer. He saw our guide explaining stuff to us and good-naturedly interrupted and took over. He was very excited to find outsiders curious about his religion, and dude was super-nice. He shook my hand as we left and apologetically kept telling Kate and Jenn, "I'm not allowed to touch you, but it's only because we respect you so much."
Labels:
Africa,
Cape Malay,
Cape Town,
cooking,
food,
penguins,
Simon's Town,
South Africa
Africa - August 29, 2012
Posted by
Jenn
Not sure how, but we managed to eat the lovely, complimentary farmhouse breakfast. Then loaded up the Eggmobile and headed south to Hermanus for the Cape's best viewing of right whales.
Spectacular two-hour drive along white-knuckle-inducing mountainous curves. (South Africa has yet to discover the benefit of guard rails.)* Shortly after arrival, Kate spotted the first of two right whales we would see in Hermanus. Disappointed that we didn't catch one fully breached out of the water, but it was thrilling just to see fins and know they were there.
Drove another two hours to Simon's Town,** where we stayed at the hilltop Whale View Manor.*** The fast pace of the trip was starting to catch up with us, and no one wanted to brave the drizzly, windy night in search of dinner. So the angelic guesthouse staff made us bacon and tomahto sandwiches, lit a fire in the common room, and made us feel at home as we searched for whales through the giant picture window until the sun vanished. Turned in early to the sound of the Atlantic crashing into the rocks below.
Brad's footnotes:
* Kate took the first shift, which I figured would be scenic and easy after the hectic bit of Cape Town I'd done the day before. The narrow hairpins were just as nerve wracking as the congested city, I think, though the views were far better.
** We'd hoped to get far enough east, past Hermanus, to dip our toes in the Indian Ocean for the first time before turning back toward Cape Town, but there wasn't time. Sigh.
*** This place was magical. Fairyland, Part Deux. Waterfall in the backyard, patio with a lovely garden up the mountain behind the rooms, and a ridiculous Mediterranean-style view out the front.
The coast of Hermanus. |
Fins to the left, fins to the right... |
Brad's footnotes:
* Kate took the first shift, which I figured would be scenic and easy after the hectic bit of Cape Town I'd done the day before. The narrow hairpins were just as nerve wracking as the congested city, I think, though the views were far better.
** We'd hoped to get far enough east, past Hermanus, to dip our toes in the Indian Ocean for the first time before turning back toward Cape Town, but there wasn't time. Sigh.
*** This place was magical. Fairyland, Part Deux. Waterfall in the backyard, patio with a lovely garden up the mountain behind the rooms, and a ridiculous Mediterranean-style view out the front.
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