I slept poorly last night. This had nothing to do with the fact that it was my first night in a completely foreign country, but more due to the fact that I was jetlagged as hell and my clock was six hours behind Cape Town.
Nonetheless, I woke up at 7am to one of the most beautiful sunrises I had ever seen, as well as the sound of wailing wildlife outside my window. As much as I love animals, the sounds of birds waking you up is nothing less than irritating and makes you want to take a large shoe (preferably with a thick sole) and chuck it at them while screeching SHUT THE (fill in the blank with any four letter word) UP!!
I went up to the hostel’s café for a better view (and so that I could eat as well). Looking at the buffet and realizing how incredibly healthy people here eat, I can say with great certainty that I will come back to the states in a few months much slimmer. The coffee here is the best I have ever tasted, with a rich, bold flavor, and super strong.
Looking at the sunrise, Table Mountain was illuminated by the rising sun, and lion’s head (another part of table mountain) was also illuminated. I must say though, that I have no idea why people say lion’s head looks like the head of a lion. It really doesn’t. If anything it looks like a large lump next to a small lump. No Mufasa silhouette :-(
About fifteen minutes later, although the sunrise is still beautiful it starts pouring and the fog starts to creep over the mountain. Attached is a short clip I took this morning of the mountains right in the back of the hostel I am staying in. I hope you all enjoy it. It’s my first attempt at editing a movie and I even figured out how to add music to it J. I promise I will get better with time, so don’t judge too harshly.
After writing a few emails and further trying to reassure my mother I am alive and doing well, I have a few things I have to do, one of which is going to get a bloody phone, and find a car or motorcycle.
Woohoo I got a phone. Still no car though L
Lunchtime: decided to eat a cheese and tomato sandwich at the hostel bar. No I haven’t had a drop of alcohol since I left Providence. Not because I don’t want to, but because I am simply not in the mood to do so just yet.
While waiting for it to be made, I meet an older man who goes by the name of Darren. He looks to be in his fifties, and looks like a man who has seen many things. His hands are calloused and rough, and he wears nearly the same attire as Crocodile Dundee, except without the hat.
Before we start chatting I immediately recognize that his accent is none other than from the US. This is the first American I meet while in Cape Town.
Darren hails from Utah. He’s never really there though. Constantly traveling. He’s a conservationist who helps to catch what he calls “big cats” and other large wildlife for scientists to study. Yesterday he was in a park in the Western Cape five hours from CT. Tomorrow, Botswana to help with catching some lions that need to be tagged. His favorite place in the world to be in: Belize. His favorite African country: Kenya.
“Why do you like Kenya the most of all the African nations you have visited?”
“A few reasons. It has the best game and largest amount of wildlife. As soon as you step foot in Nairobi you know it’s an everyman for himself kind of place and you have to watch your back at every step.”
We talk for a solid hour about all sorts of things. Mainly our shared love of travel and politics. Darren is a lover of Obama and a hater of the following (from least to greatest): George W. Bush, Rumsfield, Dick Cheney, and Sarah Palin. According to Darren, Palin is not only severely “dangerous” for our country but also a “moron”. I like this man already.
Off to explore the local area.
Never mind. It’s pouring and I am too lazy.
Car searching commences. Still no luck. Especially if you are an American.
Fall asleep again (damn it) but thankfully only for three hours today and not four like yesterday. If only I could get rid of this frickin jet lag faster.
Ate nachos covered in Kumasi cheese for dinner. Very yummy. Strike up another interesting conversation with two Dutch girls who have just come from the Limpopo province where they were doing volunteering work in orphanages. They are blonde and tall, and the bartenders give them more than enough attention. I thought the bartender was 27 or 28 at least. I find out he’s 21.
Another long day tomorrow including finding some damn transportation/avoid being ripped off because I hold an American passport and possibly explore the marketplace. Move in is tomorrow (yay!) for me into my flat which, (supposedly) is a two minute walk from here.
This weekend I put going to Robbin’s island and hiking table mountain at the top of my list.
Bon soir,
Carolyn
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