Aside from St. Helena, there is another reason for this trip. In 2001, as my freighter voyage continued, I teetered on a blustery, chilly deck while rounding - that day - the gloomy Cape of Good Hope. I could see the lighthouse and abrupt fall to evil rocks far below. The Cape of Storms is home to the Flying Dutchman and grave to many unhappy ships.
I'd always hoped to walk to the promontory, which has such a large role in the history of European exploration: Vasco de Gama, Dutch and English East India companies, spices and rubies, enough to interest the most idle schoolboy (of which I count myself one). Events of such gloriously, politically incorrect scope that I hesitate to publicly admit admiration for those who took part.
Today, I'm surprised to have, for some minutes, the lookout all to myself. Weather and view are everything for which I could have wished.
Drake is said to have claimed, "Tis the fairest thing and the grandest cape I've seen in the whole circumference of the earth."
Fortunately, I'm not so alone that no one turns up to take proof of my visit.
Clearly there've been other visitors. Did they bring the paint all the way from Botswana?
A local, presumably one who doesn't specialize in graffiti, pops up to greet me. This is a Dassie, related to the same family as the elephant. Don't believe me? Google it.
A few kilometres up the coast, I come across a colony of African, sometimes called Jackass, penguins. Zoos don't attract me, but penguins in the wild? Wow!
To Table Mountain. When the Cape Town weather's so good, up you must go. They have really sensible cable cars. The floor revolves 360 degrees as the car ascends and descends. No scrambling for best camera position.
But wait! Things have changed. VISA's plastered all over the cars. It would be no surprise to hear that company logos will next cover Niagara's Maid of the Mist.
If advertising's not enough to put you off, you can study the rescue basket.
Anyway, it's the cable car or a three hour climb.
Obvious, touristy shots. Down there, my ship should be in.
Last stop at the Kirstenbosch Botanical Garden, a World Heritage site. A Bird of Paradise and the far side of the incomparable Table Mountain.
By the way, thirty-four striking miners were killed by South African police just days ago. Arguably the most disquieting event since apartheid’s end. I’m avoiding blindingly obvious political, economic and social issues for this is, after all, nothing more than a casual travel blog.
