8. Cape Town. I’m in love with this stunning coastal city.
Cape Town is a crossroads. It’s the very apparent love child of Mother Africa and English/Dutch colonizers. It is modern and commerce-driven, while maintaining an authentic cultural exchange that feels very Old World, very experimental. A dash of urban, a little sea-salty air, and a handful of the secret ingredient. What flavor!
Cape Town doesn’t need to boast, but it should. Open air markets, a well-developed harbour, and a population causing commotion. The waves along the coast made me wish it wasn’t winter when we arrived so I could swim (with sharks?). Come to think of it, I always wish it wasn’t winter.
Cape Town, just like the rest of ZA, is ethnically diverse, although it is disproportionately white and upper class comparatively.
Don’t worry: there is plenty to do even if your ferry to Robben Island is canceled both days you have tickets. Not that I’m disappointed or whatever. Instead, you can march right up the craggy Table Mountain and gasp at the panorama. There is no other option for breath. The topography and terrain suck it all out of you in order to blow your f*cking mind.
I would (and did) gladly neglect sleep to feel the stirring, clanking night life. In four nights, we barely even tapped the shoulder of Cape Town’s boisterous, rolling conversation. Get yourself to Long Street. And stay in a hostel. And wonder what drugs your gypsy hostel manager is doing. Trust me, it’s worth it.
I’ll see you at Tha Crossroads.