Winter Vacation Extremes

I never meant for this to become a travel blog, but I haven't felt inspired to write about anything else lately.

I flew into Johannesburg (My flights were Ankara to Istanbul, Istanbul to Dubai, Dubai to Joburg, totalling 14 hours) on the 20^th early in the morning on a gorgeous day (for the record all the days were gorgeous and sunny). I had booked a stay with a couple from couchsurfing.com. Couchsurfing is a website where you get the opportunity to stay with locals for free. I used it once before: my friend Kristen and I used it when we went to Amsterdam in October (our host's name was Gin and I saw him again on this trip- it's great to have new friends in fabulous places!) and we had a good experience. It’s really nice to stay with a local for obvious reasons. I myself have hosted two people to stay in my guestroom: one guy from Izmir (in Turkey) and a guy from Russia. Everyone I’ve met from there has been nothing but lovely so don’t think it was scary or weird.

The couple I stayed with were Dominique and Patricia and they were so nice! When I arrived at their house they were so warm and welcoming. I was pretty beat from the trip and when Patricia said, “let me show you your room” and I exclaimed, “I get my own room?” With couchsurfing you’re never sure if you’ll get a bed or an actual couch and here I was getting my own room AND bathroom. For free. Score. That first day I took a much needed nap and then at 1pm we headed over to Dom and Pat’s neighbors house (Mors and Mizzie) for a braai. A braai is a South African barbeque, and the only difference I was told was that it’s a wood fire. I was so happy to have so much delicious PORK! A braai is a festive occasion, and we stayed for several hours. Patricia’s mom and her husband came over and we drank and laughed into the night.

Dom and Pat's house with a thatch roof. My room was the top right window. 

Another view-with pool!

Mors and Mizzie's yard.

Bacon straight off the braai!

I had told my hosts that my main goal was to pet lion cubs. I had researched a little and there’s a place near Joburg called “Lion Park” that has cub interactions. I told them about this and they looked at each other skeptically. “Yeah… the way they treat their lions is suspect. The park is very touristy and you only get to pet them for 5 minutes before waiting in a long que. But there’s another place near here that has cub interaction and we haven’t been there. It’s a lot closer and cheaper too. Interested? We can take you to Lion Park if you really want to go.” I told them I didn’t mind, the other place (Lory Park) sounded just fine.

We went and it was pretty much just a tiny zoo, not anything crazy. I was jumping up and down and tried to wait patiently for lion cub time while my friends were looking at birds. Finally I got to get a ticket and go in with a handler. There was barely anyone at this tiny zoo, so there was no one else waiting to pet the cubs. They were surprisingly big! It was a little scary putting my hands on this predator, but then one that I was petting rolled onto his back so I could pet his belly and it was like petting a big, sweet, lazy kitty! I chatted with the handler about the lions and her job, and just got to pet them and hang out. At one point one of them starting licking my foot, then gnawing on it a little bit and the handler pulled it off by the scruff- so basically I survived a vicious lion attack. Finally after about 20 minutes, I told the handler I was good to go. I didn’t have to leave since no one was waiting but I had my lion time and I was a happy Kimmy.

Big paws!

Lion around!

After the zoo I got on a train and went to meet my friend Bianca. She is a girl I met on my tour through Croatia last summer and I adore her. She’s the one that inspired my trip! In Croatia she told me, “you must come to South Africa. Come in December, the weather is lovely.” She picked me up and took me to an African restaurant called Moyo where I had a delicious oxtail poike- it’s like a stew you make in a special pot and it’s a delicacy. We chatted about our Croatian adventures and our lives in general. She’s a beautiful person and I’m so glad I could see her again so soon!

Oxtail poike and some kind of pumpkin mash.

The next day was my last. I spent the morning relaxing by the pool and chatting with my hosts. We had lunch with Mors and Mizzie, and I headed to the airport to go to Cape Town.

Me and Miz giving a toast before I leave.

Before going to Cape Town, I wrote this in my notebook, “There’s so much to do in Cape Town, I’m feeling overwhelmed. Here is my relaxing mantra: I’m on vacation, I can do whatever I want, I can’t possibly do everything.” While I didn’t get to do all the things I wanted, I think my Cape Town trip had a great balance of tourism and relaxation. It was really important to me that I got some beach time, and I got that. I would have liked to go on a safari, gone on a wine farm tour, seen Robben Island, and a ton of other activities, but I did and saw a lot and it was absolutely fantastic. Missing all the other things just means I have to go back someday.

I arrived early in the evening to my airbnb. My hosts were Ernie and Stefan and they were also hosting a German woman, Danny. We met, drank some cider, then headed to a bar. I had booked a great white shark cage dive for the next day and was getting picked up at 3am so it wasn’t a crazy night.

My Cape Town adopted family: Ernie, Danny, and Stefan.

The great white shark cave dive was without a doubt, one of the coolest things I’ve ever done. Before we went out on the boat, or guides tried really hard to tone down our enthusiasm because after all it’s nature, it’s unpredictable; we might not see any sharks. Ernie and Stefan told me they hosted someone who went, didn’t see any sharks and got a free voucher to come back, came back, saw no sharks again. There were 22 of us on the boat and we were to go in the cage in groups of 6-8 at a time. I was in the first group. They attract the sharks by throwing tuna oil in the water (the guides were very adamant that they do not feed the sharks) and they have a “bait line” with fish heads on it. We went in the water, and a shark showed up about 5 minutes later. It was so cool! I went in the cage another time and saw another one directly in front of my face with all the teeth aaahhhh itwassoCOOL. We saw 5 sharks in all that day.

This one was about 3 meters!

 In this next video, the quality sucks cause it's a video of a video (yeah, like I'm going to pay for the DVD) they made from the boat. But the cool part is the shark gets RIGHT in front of my face! That smiling girl at the end- I was right next to her (you kind of see me go down to watch the shark swim away). The shark's teeth were about a foot away from my face. 

That afternoon I decided to head up Table Mountain. I read that it was half price after 6, which is a pretty good deal. On the cab ride up, I started to see clouds peaking over the top and thought “uh-oh… well, it’ll probably be fine.” Long story short: It wasn’t fine. Tickets were not half price, clouds covered the top so you couldn’t see anything and it was cold, then the line to get back down the cable car was an hour because everyone was cold and miserable. I considered this to be my universe balancing itself out: I had had such fantastic luck with the sharks, that my universe decided I needed a really bad luck trip up Table Mountain.

Before it got super bad- this lasted about 5 minutes.

Wow. What a beautiful view.

When I got back from my horrible trip, I told my hosts all about it and they medicated me with wine, pizza, chocolate, and Project Runway. It was wonderful.

Stefan asked me what I had planned for the next day, and I told him none. He suggested a township tour. He had recommended it to his other guests before and they all loved it. Would he like me to call and book it for me? What I know about apartheid, Nelson Mandela, and townships could fill a book that fits in a matchbox. I asked him what it was all about and he explained it was where the poor black people were designated to live and they live there still. I asked, “do poor white people live there?” And he vehemently replied ”No! White people can’t live there. Poor white people live in shelters or just other poor neighborhoods, but not townships.” I thought a guided tour of a poor black neighborhood sounded super weird, so of course I was all in.

I was definitely a bit nervous going to a township because I really had no idea what to expect. Stefan told the Uber driver, “please do not let her leave the car until the guide comes and asks for her by name.” Chippa, my guide that lives in the township, found me and we started our tour at the community center of the township. This is where people learn skills and make crafts like mosaics, paintings, pottery, and other touristy, artsy stuff to sell. I really loved this zebra mosaic but I didn’t bring enough money to buy it- darn. Some kids come and learn new trades there, and it was a nice facility. Chippa told me throughout the tour, “you can take pictures” but I felt really weird about the whole thing so I basically only took the few when he said that.

That big pile will be lit on fire, the sheep heads go on, then they boil the sheep heads, then they eat them. Apparently the tongue is the best part.

Pretty zebra mosaic. 

The township of Langa is the oldest in Cape Town. It was originally meant for 5,000 black people and now 50,000 live there. The township was never allowed to expand so all these people are crammed in. Within the township there’s a poor part, a middle class part, and a rich part. We started with the poor area and worked our way up. The poor area consisted of shipping containers that the government has given them, some shacks they built themselves, and dorms. Each shipping container has 2 families living in it. Chippa took me to a shipping container, opened the door, and there was a woman and her 3 children sitting on the bed watching television. Chippa started telling me about this woman’s troubles: having a lot of children (he told me later, “the government gives them more money the more children they have, so it is very rare for a family to have less than 3 children. To me it doesn’t make any sense because children cost more money!”), being unemployed, and being on a waiting list for a dorm. She has lived in that shipping container for 4 years.

We told them “thank you” in Xhosa, their language, which Chippa taught me so I could say it to everyone we visited, and headed to a shack. I asked Chippa, “so… what do they think of us just coming into their home? Do they know we’re coming?” “No, we never tell them we are coming because we don’t want them to know and prepare for you. We want you to see things as they are.” While I was on this tour, I saw plenty of groups of white people doing the same thing, and the black people never batted an eye. Chippa explained, “tourism is a very important industry for our township. We all understand this so we respect tourists. You would never be harmed here because it would hurt a very important income source.” People were very friendly.

Chippa hangin out in a shack we visited. That lamp used to be a blender. 

Chippa lived in the middle class area, because he owned a shack in someone’s yard. We didn’t see his place, but we did go in a dormitory and see what in America would be a typical dorm room: tiny, three beds, hotplate, TV, etc. Except each bed represented a family that shared the room together.

The rich area is known as “Beverly Hills.” It was nice homes, manicured lawns, nothing close to what we would call a mansion, but nice kept homes with some BMWs out front (Chippa referred to these as “Black Man’s Wish). When the tour was finished, Chippa thanked me warmly for being an important part of their township.

After the tour, my new friend Paul, who I met on my great white shark adventure, asked me if I wanted to join him at Clifton Beach- finally, BEACH TIME! The water was gorgeous, but the Atlantic was freezing!

Lunch with a view!

The next day was Christmas. I had specifically scheduled Christmas as my "day to relax." Meaning I would do nothing but go with the flow of whoever I was with. I was with my hosts, Stefan and Ernie, the other housemate Danny, and Ernie's parents. Ernie was at the braai making the most succulent pork belly I've ever tasted, Danny made spaetzle and red cabbage, and I made a simple salad and my famous Apple Brown Betty for dessert. We had a fabulous day of drinking mimosas, laughing, and SO MUCH eating. 

Mimosas!

Lucky loved his ostrich bone present!

Ernie gettin the braai ready.

Ernie and Danny prepare for the traditional Christmas vodka shots.

The backyard.

Pork belly (drool).

Spaetzle, cabbage, salad, sausage, and bacon. Wow.

Leftover meat. 

Boxing Day was the day for me to meet up with Michello, my friend and a Kindergarten teacher at my school in Turkey. He picked me up after a tearful goodbye to my adopted Christmas family and we headed to his friend Coenie's house. Coenie had come to Istanbul about a month before this and all three of us partied together there and it was great to see him again. We went to The Old Biscuit Mill, an outdoor market/fair that happens on the weekends.  The rest of the day was filled with visiting friends, drinking wine, and of course going to a gar bar, then a gay club, with tons of gay people. I invited my shark buddy Paul along and he was a little nervous (especially when he saw dudes dancing in their underwear on the bar) but we all had a fabulous time. 

Me and Coenie

Michello, Juan, me, Coenie

Selling coconuts.

Michello and me loving life!

Visiting a friend's house.

Me, Coenie, and Michello lookin good. 

All up in da club.

The next day was a time for hangover milkshakes, goodbye to Michello (see you back at home!) and more beach time with Paul. Paul invited me to go on a hike up Lion's Head with his uncle Richard and Richard's husband Grant. We went up in the late afternoon to watch the sunset. It took about an hour and some parts of the climb were a little scary. The view was absolutely magnificent. It might have been the best part of my trip. Table Mountain is quite a sight to behold from Lion's Head.

I was not joking about hangover milkshakes.

Paul at Clifton

On our way to meet Paul's uncle.

Going up!

Going vertical (sorry for the butt shot. Unless you're into that. In which case you're welcome.).

Paul, Grant, and Richard

Grant and I enjoy our champagne at the top!

When the clouds come over Table Mountain, they call it "the table cloth."

Spotted some scorpions!

Grant asked me, "so what do you think of South African culture?" And I responded, "honestly, I don't know where South African culture starts and gay culture begins because everyone I've stayed with and almost every person I've met has been gay. I have no idea how straight people live in South Africa." He replied, "that's okay sweetie, neither do we! Ha!" 

Paul and I had scheduled a tour around Cape Point the next day. We saw baboons, ostriches, and penguins! We also saw some more lovely gardens and beaches. My last day. I spent the evening with Coenie and new friends, and of course we went to the gay club once more. 

Paul and Hout Bay

Baboons!

Ostrich- up close and personal. 

Lunch was calamari and a lovely rose wine- so cheap and amazing. 

Pretty much sums up our trips. 

Those two in front! So cute!

Me in the Kirstenbosch gardens. 

I left in the morning the next day. It was a 17 hour flight (Cape Town to Joburg, Joburg to Nairobi, Nairobi to Amsterdam). I arrived in Amsterdam early in the morning and met up with my Turkish friends. Until we could get the keys to our apartment, we walked around drinking gluhwein and visiting coffee shops (What do you expect? It's Amsterdam!). It was really disorienting to go from summer in Africa to winter in Europe, I can't describe it... I guess it felt like being stoned without smoking anything. 

Our apartment turned out to be great! Two rooms (a couple and me sharing with a Turkish girl), and right on a canal. The next night was New Years and after walking around the city all day we watched the fireworks from our window and down on the street. There were fireworks going off EVERYWHERE. It was charming. 

Me and my couch surfing buddy, Gin (he's Italian although he lives in Amsterdam) in Dam Square.

The rest of the trip in Amsterdam consisted of going to bars, coffee shops, shopping, eating yummy food (stroopwaffel is my favorite Dutch treat), and a single cultured visit to the Rijksmuseum to see Elizabeth Bas, who is my Dutch ancestor. 

Me and Ol' Liz. See the resemblance? 

It was a whirlwind. If I could do it again, I'd spend more time in Cape Town and not go to Amsterdam. Amsterdam is fun and all, but at this point I've been there too much, too soon. Next year I might do a week of an African Safari, and maybe another week in Cape Town. But who knows? The world is so vast, my feet are itchy, and this heart of mine was made to travel this world.