We spent our last morning walking around the colorful streets of Bo-Kapp, a vibrant neighborhood in Cape Town first settled by Muslim tradesmen in the 18th century.
I mistook this young Rastafarian for a Muslim at a local cafe. He didn't seem to mind. The chocolate mint smoothie hit the spot, too, though it required a leap of faith to order my first vegan concoction shortly before an 18-hour trip back to New York City.
It's easy to ignore South Africa's racist history in a city as lovely as Cape Town. Not so when you tour Robben Island where the apartheid government sent political agitators to spend their days mining limestone for no purpose instead of fomenting civil unrest to change the world. It takes about half an hour to get there from the V & A Waterfront. Bring your dramamine.
A very knowledgeable guide explains the prison's history as you traverse it by bus. On the morning we went, nearly all of the hundreds of visitors were white.
Here's where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned for 18 years. He didn't have that pad for all of them.
For blacks like Mandela (C below), food rations were smaller than for mixed race prisoners (B below) but far be it from me, a white American, to comment on South Africa's racial history, past or present.
The ride back to the waterfront took far longer because of the headwinds though the water was considerably smoother.
We dined at Blowfish, an excellent seafood restaurant. It was the only time during our two plus weeks in Africa we were served by a white waiter.
Kite surfers just outside the restaurant's windows took full advantage of the spring winds.
We spent the rest of the afternoon at Kirstenbosch, Cape Town's botanical gardens.
As lovely as Kirstenbosch is, it couldn't quite erase the image of Nelson Mandela's garden.
Man's inhumanity to man really knows no borders, does it?
I rose very early Saturday morning to climb Table Mountain, Cape Town's #1 tourist attraction. It reminds me of the flat tops I used to get as a kid.
Fortunately, the weather cooperated. My starting point was less than a ten minute-drive from Camps Bay and I arrived in time to snag the last convenient parking space.
The climb was supposed to take two to three hours. Nothing like an i-Pod programmed with your favorite tunes (especially Taylor Swift's "Clean") and magnificent views to put the wind in your solo sails.
No exertion would be complete without a selfie!
Would you believe I reached the top in less than two hours? Not bad for 61-year-old guy with an artificial hip!
With a little help from this marker, I explored the plateau. Let me tell you, it was chilly up there.
Dan and Peter, his very welcoming Cape Town colleague, took the cable car to the top.
I was supposed to meet them at the visitor's center around 10 a.m.
A pair of more appropriately attired dassies kept me company while I waited, very thankful that I brought at least a sweatshirt.
I think "earning" the views made me enjoy them more. And the hot chocolate, too.
My snobbery didn't stop me from descending in the cable car.
Afterward, Dan and I headed back to the V & A Waterfront to complete our shopping and visit the Two Oceans Aquarium.
Far more impressive was the Cape of Good Hope, where the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans "officially" meet.
Road signs warned us about the baboons. They said nothing about the speed bumps that gave me a lot more trouble.
Too bad we had to leave before the sunset. I might have conceded it was even prettier than the ones we enjoy so much in the Pines.
