Lezard Bleu
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Sunday in Cape Town
... the street signs. Walking through the deserted city was rather strange and a little spooky. After 15 minutes I was starting to regret wearing flip flops as we navigated our way a little aimlessly in the general direction of the docks.
We eventually found our way to the V&A Waterfront and as expected it was a very touristy area full of brand name stores and expensive restaurants. Hungry by this point and with sore ...
Penguins in Cape Town!!
... their system. However, everyone is so so nice here and tries to be so helpful. The cafeteria is the first place we went that morning. It is the center of campus and essentially the gathering place for all students. The caf is three levels high and is filled with tables upon tables. All you can hear upon entering the caf are dominoes falling against the table. Dominoes seems to be a huge thing here (or just at this university). But, apparently, it ...
Cape Crusaders
... and looking at stuff in the city centre. We'd been warned by many people (none of whom had been to Cape Town) that crime was very high, that this was a dangerous place to visit and essentially that we were stupid to be going. This was a real concern before we arrived, but here's how it really is. During the day and into the evening it's safe to walk around the city centre as long as you stick to the main streets, which are policed visibly and effectively. Our ...
On the move again!
... about ourselves from the wild. Ian says 'there is a menagerie within each of us … a wolf, a hyena, a lion, ….a wild man and a wild woman”. Unfortunately we didn’t have too much time there and the sculptures were difficult to photograph. Wandering back to the entrance we saw a bust of Mandella and Mandella Gold the strelitzia named after him – one in full bloom – exquisite.
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Sunday market an inspirational artist
... front room. Brick stairs lead up to the first floor from near the door, there are shiny polished Bakelite-looking tiles on the floor and painted brick walls. It’s like stepping back into the 50’s and reminds me of the council house my family lived in during the 50’s in Hertfordshire when my parents moved out of bomb scarred London. There’s space for us all to sit down, but every surface is piled with art books of every size ...
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