August 15, 2007: Muizenberg, South Africa

I've already been on this trip for a week and this is the first chance I've had to sit down and attempt to write. Where to begin? In the short period of seven days, I have almost completely surrendered myself to the concept of a nomadic existence. I say "almost" because I did think to myself today that it would be nice to come back to a home at the end of the day. However, that is quite different from my initial thought of "What the hell am I doing here?" and I didn't dwell on it at all. So, to the beginning then...

I arrived in Cape Town Aug 6 and stepped off the plane to a decidedly brisk sideways rain. In my flip flops no less. By the time I made it from the plane across the tarmac to the airport, I was soaked. In my mind, abstractly, I knew it was winter in South Africa, but I still was hoping it would be sunny, 78 degrees, and I would be greeted by singing locals offering me up a bountiful feast of local delicacies. Hope springs eternal. A little freezing rain down the back of my neck was my cruel reality check.

After collecting my baggage and digging out my rain jacket (which I was hoping never to use) and more sensible shoes, I stepped outside into what had become a torrential downpour to look for a cab. I knew the name of the campsite where I was supposed to meet everyone, but had no address other than the name of the town the campsite was located in, Muizenberg. Actually, I didn't know if it was a town, or a district/subdivision/neighborhood in Cape Town. Turns out my cab driver didn't know either. He handed me a map so I could try and locate the campsite while he attempted to drive. And I do mean attempted because the rain was so incredibly strong that it was nearly impossible to see the road. All I could think of was what a pain it was going to be trying to set up my tent in this hurricane of a storm. By some stroke of luck, I managed to locate the campsite on the map and, after much directing on my part (my cab driver also had extremely poor map reading skills) we made it to the camp 380 Rand later (about $50).

Pete, the trip leader for South Africa who had just completed the previous Hot Rock north to south Africa trip, was the only person around. Turns out I was completely wrong about the start date of the trip. I thought we left Cape Town on August 8, but it turns out the trip officially started on the 8th. Like many things I do in life, I should have done a little more checking first.

The campsite was a complete swamp. Not literally, but it was so wet and soggy that nothing was dry. The first night, Pete, Steve, George and I were sitting inside the truck talking over the rain when it suddenly sounded like a chain gang was furiously working on the roof. It was hail, pelting down with such force that the roof was moving. Welcome to winter. And that was pretty much the story of Muizenberg -- periods of sun with a lot of vicious rain.

We did go climbing a couple of times on the crag behind Muizenberg.



Beach cabanas and Muizenberg crag:
Muizenberg beach cabanas at sunset:I did my first three person multi-pitch one day and another little three pitch climb the next day.

View of Muizenberg and False Bay from top of crag: We were supposed to go climbing on Table Mountain, but it was too wet and the official plan was to rent a vehicle to take everyone into the city. Live everything else, we discovered it was not so easy.

The first official night of Hot Rock (the 8th), Pete sat us all down over dinner and delivered several bombshells: 1) they wanted someone to pay for the rental vehicle and then get reimbursed; 2) they wanted someone to allow Hot Rock (the company running this tour) to transfer money into a personal account and pay expenses out of that account; 3) there was no safe on board to keep valuables; 4) we would have to pay for climbing equipment like chalk, bolts, etc which we had been led to believe were free; and 5) my own personal favorite, the budget for the two meals a day we were to take turns buying and preparing for the group was $1.20 per person. Yes, $1.20. A whopping 60 cents per meal. All I could think of was those advertisements that were popular in the 80s soliciting sponsorship of a starving Ethiopian child for $1 per day. And that was in the 80s. I'm not even sure an additional 20 cents accounts for inflation. Needless to say, that created a bit of an uproar. The funny thing is, even in South Africa, easily one of the most developed places on our itinerary, it is possible to eat two meals on $1.20 a day. It is a bit of a stretch and meat is not going to be an everyday occurrence, but a person can make it work. Which makes me wonder about all the sumptuous delights those Ethiopian kids would have been able to afford 25 years ago. They must have eaten like kings! If I can survive on $1.20 per day now in South Africa, I could have gorged myself for $1 a day in Ethiopia in the 80s.