Waking up the next day in my hotel ("you are very late David, you said AM & its 8PM. You are here now & you do not need to worry. We have 3 security doors"), I opened the curtains to be greeted with a gale. High winds& lashing rain. No problems this is Cape Town & it never rains for long.
Heading off I followed the coast to the city on a hunt for a) the castle b) ale (had to persevere with lager the previous night) c) a plug adapter (oversight - my European adapter was a tad northern hemisphere) & d)bird life (feathered). Through the persistent drizzle, I clocked black oystercatchers, cormorants & variations on starlings, robins & gulls.
Drizzle became rain. Rain became gales. Taking shelter for the nth time I concluded that the most visible Cape Towners fall into two broad categories. One group are 95% white - confident, loud, outwardly wealthy, clecky & closed - reminded me of the London public school brigade. The other is 100% black - jolly, chaotic, inquisitive & getting by. A generalisation but the contrast between the have & have nots is stark here. Two different worlds. Showls of dodgy jap saloons are circled by an occasional incongruous Bentley.
The Castle proofed elusive hidden (to me anyway in the gales) behind faceless office blocks (Price Waterhouse, Old Mutual etc etc.), the plug adaptor was found in a back street mobile shop ( I was fleeced) but tracking down ale was trickier. After some dedication, I found a bar advertising craft beer.
I was surrounded by the white fraternity playing hoops (like darts). "Yes Josh, lets have another round of shots. You're crazy". Sadly craft ale is a white man's drink.
"Penis Extensions? Erectile malfunction? Financial problems" Ring...." A sticker I saw a few times on the way back. It only had one number to ring.
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