Return to Africa

Note that we're only posting a few pictures as part of the blog. Please click on the More Photographs link on the right to see all the pictures we have posted.

Once we arrived at the V&A Waterfront, we booked our pirate ship trip for 2pm and decided that left us just enough time for a beer and a bite to eat at one of the many eateries. We both had fond memories of Mitchells, so we headed over there to sample our first alcohol on SA soil. Rob had a Forresters draft, and when the waiter asked me for my choice, I was dumbstruck. I hadn't thought about what my go-to drink would be here, but I knew it wasn't going to be beer or any sweet coolers. So I blurted out "Savanah", and when I took that first sip past the lemon wedge in the bottle neck, it was like reliving my early 20's in a few seconds!

The waiter was utterly dumbfounded when the kids asked for choccie milk! Here in SA, kids seem to drink juice and pop, but no milk. So the closest thing (and not really close at all!) has been chocolate milkshakes. Jamie didn't mind this sweet indulgence at all, and shared a huge milkshake with Mukmuk.

When it was time to order, there was very little hesitation ... the seafood platter for two, please! This was the first of many platters we would have on this trip - fresh South African seafood is hard to beat. We did ask our waiter what he thought of the platter before we ordered though, and was pleasantly surprised when he answered "I think it's divine, really awesome" with a perfect Capetonian English accent. See, our waiter was black, and it was a surprise not to hear the traditional "black" accent anymore. When we left South Africa 8 years ago, most of these young people had not gone through the school system yet, but now, all the young people were speaking with the same accents. How awesome!

After a good lunch we still had room (and time!) for dessert, so Rob treated us to something he had been waiting for for 8 years ... a Choc 99. For those who have not yet had the pleasure of trying one, it's a soft serve ice cream with a flake stuck in it, and then dipped in chocolate or caramel. Flake and ice cream go really well together, so it's a real treat.

The pirate ship was really awesome. It looks like the real deal, complete with cannons, sails, and the most gorgeous wood work on the boat. The kids took great delight in climbing up and down the steep stairs to the upper decks so many times that I was eyeing the ropes on board as more than just decor ... I felt like tying them down!

We set sail on the pirate ship

Mukmuk sets sail on the pirate ship

The view from the ship was amazing, especially with the new Cape Town Stadium changing the skyline forever. The stadium was completed in 2009 in time for the World Cup Soccer, and has a permanent seating capacity of 55,000. Here's hoping that the city will find enough events to keep the stadium going in the years to come ... R4.4 billion (US$600) is quite a bit of money to waste in Africa!

After spotting our first whale, the crew signalled that they were ready for the pirate show. It was totally lame, but strangely charming, and the kids lapped it up, which I guess is what it is all about, right!

A pirate being thrown off the boat

Jared's expression during all of the pirate show

All in all, it was a great trip, and one that the kids were talking about for many days to come.

We strolled around and found the Wheel of Excellence, a giant ferris wheel that stands 50m high. A company called Dutch Wheels is installing these in various places around the world, including Australia's Gold Coast, Delhi, Paris, and Gothenburg. We were are quite nonchalant about going around in the enclosed, air-conditioned cabins, and the kids were playfully tussling over a bottle of Coke, making the cabin rock gently ... ... until we realized Rob was VERY quiet (and quiet white in the face!) ... heights are not his friend! But he soon relaxed and enjoyed the panoramic view of late afternoon Cape Town.

We also stumbled upon a signpost that miraculously showed us just how far away we were from home, in case we were wondering!

Just in case we got lost, the boys found the way to Vancouver (16912 km away!)

By this stage, the warning lights were flashing on the kids, so we made our way back to the hotel to freshen up before dinner. Both kids fell asleep in the car, and we laid them down on the bed for a power nap while I was reading some restaurant reviews online to Rob. I got really angry as he dozed off a few times while I was reading to him. Exasperated, as it was 6:30 already and we hadn't decided where to go yet, I gave up and lay down next to Jared on the bed to try and wake him up...

... Rob and I both woke up with a start at just after 9pm! Still groggy, and with the kids still sleeping soundly, we realized that we had severely underestimated jet lag, and that it had downed all 4 of us like milk cans at a carnival! We conceded defeat, put pajamas on, and crawled into bed, tired but content.

After a few hours of sleep, we were awoken by the kids' chatter and giggling at 5:30am. Trying hard to ignore it, we managed to stay hidden under the covers until 6am, at which stage the giggles had predictably given way to fighting and wining. Jamie announced that she needed to pee and that she needed me to go with her. Considering that the room was so small that I could probably pull up Jamie's pants while still lying in bed, I didn't know why she needed me so badly, but I wasn't about to start a battle of wills with a 3-year old at 6am, so I got up and joined her in the washroom. She finished up and, with her hand paused on the toilet handle, asked in a worried voice "Mommy, is this flush loud like the airplane??"

Suddenly I understood her need for company. That horrible airplane toilet had done a lot of lasting damage!

It was a beautiful day outside and our first priority was to get to Table Mountain, as it was by far our most weather dependent activity. Even on a sunny day like this, if the infamous South Easterly wind starts up, the mountain will soon be covered by a blanket of clouds rolling off the top like a tablecloth. Legend has it that this cloud is the result of a smoking contest between the Devil and a pirate named Van Hunks. So we got in the car and headed for the flat-topped mountain, hoping that the guys would put their pipes away for the day.

Mukmuk surfs the dash on our way to Table Mountain (in the background)

We parked the car at what seemed the bottom of the mountain, and in a flash we had a car guard there offering to look after the car. He couldn't believe his ears when Rob said "No thanks, it's just a rental!" Judging by the amount of grumbling he was doing as we walked off, he hated us as much in that moment as we hate car guards in general!

It was hardly 10am and the temperature had already climbed to a scorching, windless 28 degrees Celcius. We welcomed the shade trees covering the line-up at the ticket office, and soon we were ready to get into the elevator taking us to the cable car. It was here that we encountered what seems to be the new South African phenomenon: taking pictures of tourists, photoshopping them onto your attraction, and then selling it to them at ridiculous prices. Our mantra for whenever we encountered this "service" was quoting what a guy shouted out here at Table Mountain as they were posing for the picture ... "C'mon, smile like you're gonna buy the photo!"

The cableway was opened in 1929 with a cable car that took only 25 people, and I remember riding in the same car on my first trip up the mountain in 1981 as a 5-year old. Luckily, the cable cars were replaced in 1997 with ones that take 65 people, and rotate through 360 degrees on the way up or down, affording everyone the opportunity of a good view. It was this rotation that completely stymied Jamie. Since she insisted holding on to the outside rail, while the platform she was standing on rotated away from the rail, she squealed a few times as her legs and arms were being stretched away from each other!

The New Cable Car

Once on the mountain, at almost 3600ft, the views were stunning, just as we remembered. It was great to see the new World Cup Soccer Stadium added to this view. As always, Robben Island in the background was a reminder of the controversial history of this country, being the place where Nelson Mandela spent most of his 27 years in prison.

The family peers over the edge of Table Mountain

The kids were in their element, and climbing on and over all the rocks, despite our pleas to stay on the path. With sheer rock faces only a wrong step or two away, we helicoptered the kids for a while, and then gave up, letting them enjoy the mountain the same way Rob and I did as kids many years ago, ironically with our own parents shouting at us with their heart in their throats!

My little rock hopper

We were eagerly peering over the cliffs trying to spot the prolific dassie (rock hyrax). I remember hundreds basking in the sun just off the paths. But there were none to be seen. Not one. Rob and I wondered whether any "cleansing" took place before the World Cup ... I mean, if Vancouver can relocate its homeless before the Olympics ...

Mukmuk was very disappointed not to spot a distant cousin or two.

Mukmuk enjoying the view of Robben Island

Jamie spotted the washrooms, and insisted she needed to go try them out (she marks her territory everywhere we go!). And yes, the question came again "Mommy, does this toilet make a loud noise?". Since these were actually no flush toilets on the mountain, that was an easy question to answer.

It was here in the toilets that I saw a mama sleeping on her mop in the corner of the washroom building (a mama refers to an older, black lady). I was so disappointed. 95% of the people on Table Mountain on any given day are overseas tourists, and this is not the picture they need to remember. This was the first of many times where I vented to Rob that I really wished ALL South Africans would GET the value of tourism, and how each and every person is an ambassador, whether you are the tour leader or the toilet cleaner. It takes a nation to sell a country. South Africa has the goods, but all of its citizens needs to buy in.

But regardless of this, we had a great time on the mountain. It was the perfect start to our South African holiday. Now we had to make our way down the mountain ... we had a pirate ship to catch ...

I guess the high winds got to it!

Our first few hours in South Africa was rather underwhelming. As I stepped off the plane and sucked in my first breath of African air, my first thought was not “I’m home”, or “This is where my heart is” or any other such grand and emotional thoughts, but rather “Oh man … it stinks!”

Seriously, it smelled smoky, more specifically it smelled like “stroois” – literal translation is probably “shack” – the body odour of a person the morning after spending the night in a shack where a fire was burning all night. It was a less than pleasant memory, and not exactly what I wanted for my first impression of South Africa, but oh well, by the time we got outside again, my nose was accustomed to the air, and I didn’t notice it anytime again.

As we stepped off the airplane ramp, and Rob and I shared a “This is it”-look, we were faced with a long, cold, barren walkway the size of about 4 airplane hangers. Since we were the last to get off the plane, this hall was deserted, and we only had the dog-eared and peeling World Cup Soccer wall posters to keep us company for the long walk. A cleaner had her dinner spread out on the floor in front of her as we rounded the corner into the passport control area. As we joined the back of the 6-turn snaking line at “International Passports”, I looked around the cavernous hall. The most exciting thing was a lady sitting at a nondescript, unmarked desk in the far corner. Yawn …

After about 15 minutes in the line, the baby of the family in line in front of us started crying inconsolably. I was still identifying with the little tyke when a customs officer came up and waved the family to the front of the line. I wondered if Jamie would hate me for a long time if I flicked her ear so she would cry too…

When we finally got to the front of the line, the customs officer did not disappoint.
“Passports!” she grumbled.
“Good evening, here you go!” I smiled.
“How long you staying?” she grumbled.
“Five weeks on holiday, ma’am” Rob smiled.
Unintelligible grunt.
Stamp (x 4).
“Here!” she grumbled.

I gathered the passports that were shoved back in our direction. “Welcome to South Africa, Rob” I said as we walked off. “I guess she just forgot…”

I was happy to see that all 4 pieces of our luggage had made it. Good karma.

Europcar had 1 customer (us) and 5 tellers who all looked very busy. It actually took some time to try and make eye contact with someone long enough for them to wave us over. When I handed over my reservation number, mass confusion ensued. There was something wrong, as we had actually showed up a day earlier than they expected. I sighed, and pointed out that it was now 11:45pm on January 23, and my request was for a car to be picked up at 00:30 on January 24…

I offered to wait the 15 minutes to midnight so that their systems can match. I don’t think they ever caught on to my sarcasm…

If I thought our service woes would end there, I was sadly mistaken. When we declined their restrictive insurance, and indicated that our credit card offers us comprehensive insurance, we caused more confusion, with every one of the 5 agents weighing in on how to treat this situation? Oh my word, every major North American credit card offers the same type of insurance - surely after the World Cup these people have seen them all? Well, evidently not, as I had to use one of their computers to go to the Royal Bank website and print out the insurance coverage contract. After an entire hour of agony, and two little kids who were climbing the walls by this stage, we finally drove off on the wrong side of the road to our hotel.

We had decided to be cheap and not go for the tourist trap hotels at the Waterfront in Cape Town. I knew that, with all the activities we had planned, we would literally only be sleeping at our hotel, so pretty much a clean room not too far from the attractions would do fine. Well, when Rob and I were still dating we would often decide on a Friday afternoon to simply get in the car and drive down to Cape Town for a dirty weekend - spending the Saturday at Ratanga Junction riding the rollercoasters, Sunday at the Waterfront, and our nights finding eclectic little places to eat, sometimes only driving back early Monday morning to be back in time for work at 8am. During those trips we stayed at the N1 City Road Lodge, and found it was perfect for our needs, and cheap. So when I saw that their rooms offered a double bed and a double sleeper couch that the kids could use, at an unbelievable price, I was sold, and booked us in for 3 nights.

Arriving at the hotel, we recalled fond memories as we got out the car and started to cart our luggage inside. It was now after 1am, but we were welcomed at reception, and given our room key on the ground floor. So far so good. It was when we opened the door that the shock came. The room was tiny. T-I-N-Y!!! The shower and toilet was basically one plastic mould in the corner, the clearance between bed and walls was 30cm, and the "double sleeper couch" was actually a single couch which was folded out on the floor and stuck flush against the air conditioner. Man, to this day I don't know whether the rooms just seemed bigger when Rob and I were on our own, or whether they made their rooms smaller since we were last there, but I know I was too embarrassed to make a big deal of it, so I simply smiled and made sure I only opened one suitcase at a time, LOL.

So around 2am, with the kids lying head to toe and Rob and I still occasionally barking at Jared to keep his feet out of Jamie's face, we drifted off to sleep for our first night under African stars. Tomorrow could only be better!

Despite this being the first flight the kids have had as bigger kids and not babies, they were totally unphased by the take-off, which could be scary for many adults! They were happily pretend-sleeping on their Noodleheads, special travel pillows for kids in the shape of different animals. Jamie chose whichever one was pink, which was the hippo, and after convincing Jared that him already owning one pink hippo is enough for Daddy to handle, he chose the blue dog.

It took about 9 seconds from the flight attendant serving Jamie with some pop for her to spill it all over the tray and floor. A kind lady with sympathetic eyes passed me a wad of napkins. In all my anal, over-analyzing, super-planning wisdom, I had packed sippy cups for the kids for exactly this reason, but for some stupid reason I thought it was okay to tempt fate just this one time. Needless to say, the rest of the drinks on the flight were promptly decanted into safe sippy cups!

The thrill of being served pop and pretzels wore off quickly for the kids, and a unanimous request was made to bring out the Nintendo DS's. I truly believe that these little machines are direct gifts (via Japan, I guess!) from God to weary parents. Throughout the flight they were what kept the kids busy for the longest periods of time, affording Rob and I some time to actually exchange some conversation or read a chapter or 2 of our books.

Technology keeping the 3 munchkins busy on the plane

Our first (and only, really) sign of bad karma was that the personal TV screens for Jamie and I were not working. After several attempts to reset them, the flight attendants gave up and simply issued us a bunch of miles to add to our frequent flyer program. It was no great loss, though – the kids programming on Delta Airlines' entertainment system is 100% non-existent! Luckily we had our trusty netbook that I had loaded with lots of our kids' favourite shows and movies, so they were only too thrilled to be entertained by Caillou and the Backyardigans. The attendant did say that we can have anything free of charge, but much to Rob's disgust, this offer did not include a chance in the cockpit to fly the plane...

Jamie has this horrible habit of having to “mark her territory” wherever we go. So it came as no surprise that only a few minutes into the flight she loudly announced that she had to go pee. I always thought that airplane toilets were ridiculously small (I am obviously NOT a mile-high club member, since “contortionist” is not on my resume). Now try squeezing into one of these little holes with a squirmy 3-year old. After all business had been attended to, I braced for the flush. At the ripe old age of 34, the airplane toilet flush still manages to startle me. Seriously, it looks and sounds like you might be sucked out the plane if you got too close. So despite my warning to Jamie that it would be loud, the utter terror on her face as she cowered away from the sucking monster gave me a good indication of how high the trauma counselling bills are going to be! I couldn't help but spare a giggle at how Jamie's friend, Lucas, would react to this, since he has a very specific fear of automatic flushing toilets, and this would probably scar him for life!

Jamie bravely dealt with the toilets for the rest of the flight by covering her ears, but little did I know that these airplane toilets would come back to haunt us every day for the rest of our holiday. More about that in future posts.

The 10 hours to Amsterdam was easier than we expected, and almost all of the backpack filled with games and entertainment went untouched. Landing at Schipol afforded us a welcome opportunity to stretch our legs, and for the kids to ride the moving walkways like they were roller coasters. Due to my thorough research, we knew to head straight to the Kids Forest, a play area with climbing structures and slides for the kids. Rob and I found a spot to sit amongst masses of sleeping strangers and enjoyed a nice cup of strong Dutch coffee while the kids burnt off energy and made friends with kids from Atlanta, Georgia.

Mukmuk with random sleeping stranger at Schipol

Kids Forest at Schipol

The almost 3-hour layover flew by and soon we found ourselves boarding the Boeing for the 11½ flight to Cape Town. Jamie was sleepwalking by this stage, since the 11am boarding time translated to 1am Vancouver time. I buckled her into her seat, put a blanket over her, and she was asleep before all the passengers even got onto the plane. Jared also didn't make the plane taking off, and the 2 kids slept soundly without stirring for the next 7 hours.

While the kids were sleeping, Rob and I used the opportunity to doze off as well. In between trying to sleep, KLM was offering us meals and drinks around the clock … by this time we had given up on trying to figure out what the time was and whether we were having breakfast, lunch or dinner. We simply ate whatever they put in front of us and carried on sleeping afterwards.

The kids woke up just over 4 hours away from Cape Town, had some food and snacks, played some games and watched some TV, and before we knew it, we were fastening our seat belts for landing.

It was 11:00pm in Cape Town, 21 degrees. Two bumps from the wheels … Welcome to South Africa!

We checked into our Seattle hotel close to the airport on Friday night, and since we never got to the playground, we had the kids burn off their energy in an even more fun way … by jumping on the hotel bed! The kids really enjoyed this unexpected gift from us, partly because of the sheer fun but mostly because of the thrill of getting to do something that is usually very much forbidden.

At about 9pm I decided I was hungry again, so we ordered pizza to the room (the absolute only choice!), and it was amazing to see how many of my fellow companions suddenly realized they were hungry too!

The next morning we all woke up with a mix of excitement and nerves in our eyes. I wanted to prepare the kids for what would happen at the airport, so we actually did a little dress rehearsal, complete with a complete pat-down from Daddy! We drove the car over to the long-term parking lot, and said goodbye to it for 5 weeks. As we lined up at the baggage check-in counter of Delta Airlines, we were debating which agent looked the friendliest (really, who looked like they would give us the extra pound for free!) When we got to the front, I hoisted up a wriggly Jamie on my hip hoping that it would increase the pity factor. Rob placed the first case on the scale … “51 pounds”. Darnit, they are rounding up! I thought this would be a good time to casually sigh and mention to Rob how I'm not looking forward to the next 25 hours on the plane with 2 little kids. I offered a weak smile to the agent as our eyes met …

“It's overweight, but I'll let it through this time.”

There was a collective sigh of relief coming from our little group. She mentioned that “You might not be so lucky with the next person”, but I hardly heard her. I was too busy loading the second 51 pound suitcase onto the scale!

We decided that since our karma seemed to be in a good mood, we'd better get through security as fast as possible. I eyed the lines suspiciously as we approached … I really wanted to avoid having to opt out of the body scan if I could. I saw the dreaded machine but was delighted to see that it was not operational. Maybe our good karma was just too much for that invasive monster to handle!

Well, in the midst of Jamie deciding this was the perfect place to nap (really, she assumed the frog-position on the floor), and Jared swinging like a monkey from the security desk rails, we got everyone's shoes and sweaters off, liquids declared and laptop separated. I was the last one to walk through, and as I waited for the official to wave me through, she looked me up and down, smiled and pointed at my feet. In true mommy-style, I got everyone ready except myself, and I was still standing there in my shoes!

After a few high fives for successfully clearing security, we settled down for a cup of coffee, some bagels and admiring all the big planes outside.

On the train ride to our departure gate, a friendly Delta pilot gave each kid a replica pin of the same wings he was wearing. Proudly displaying their wings, Jared and Jamie boarded the Airbus, followed by apprehensive Mommy and Daddy, and we all settled into our seats for the 25 hours of travel that lay ahead.