Cape Town Hotels
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Our fancy apartment in Cape Town
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But the first night in Jo'burg and Kruger, the apartment in Cape Town is the only place booked in advanced. Money was not saved: only the very best was good enough.
We are all a bit nervous about it. What if it is not as expected? Therefore, we decide to drive there directly, no more wineries. Dr T called the agency half an hour before arrival and we are at our apartment before noon. I hold my breath stepping in and ... it is all what I expected AND more. Huge terrace with a stunning view on the sea and on the mountains. With a big private Jacuzzi. The place is enormous. Living/lounge room where you could give a decent party and a bar. Fully equipped kitchen with dishwasher, washing machine and dryer. 3 luxury bedrooms with their en-suite bathrooms. Double garage. Happy puppies! We have a beer on that!
Then we go shopping and do 'a Michael'. Michael is our German friend (married to Springmuis, our Dutch friend). 'Doing a Michael' is buying too much stuff. That is what he does, when we go away for a weekend.
Chicken, cold pasta, bread, a salad and a nice white wine on our own terrace. Does life get any better?
Then: Jacuzzi time. Who is the first to jump in, you think? And did he bother with bathers?
When we finally get him out, games are played while watching the sun set.
Broekske and I prepare the spaghetti, while the Tomcat cleans out the Jacuzzi. And did he bother with bathers? (I bet Annie is playing a Sudoku) I have zero experience with those things but Hubby knows exactly what to do. Unfortunately the thing does not have a plug, so it has to be drained onto the terrace. Where part of it goes OVER the terrace onto the downstairs neighbors terrace and ... into his swimming pool. The (black) servant of the neighbor rings our doorbell: could we please ... . Of course!
The spaghetti is received with enthusiasm. Afterwards we watch the first episode of 'Life on Mars' with the girls.
The coming days are filled with: enjoying our fancy apartment, drinking our nice wine, preparing the favorite food, hop-on, hop-off bus and Hubby and me go to the city center to arrange for our next destination: Namibia.
The hop-on, hop-off bus is a good idea, as those things are. We walk to the bus station at the sea. Broekske spotted the stops through her binoculars, sitting on our terrace. There is a party going on at the beach. Of course, that bus is not on time!
From on top, in the sun, we see the expensive houses on the coast, the coast line and the city. At the harbor, we get out. Dr T is not very respectful to Nelson Mandela! A seal is keeping us company during our lunch in a ... Belgian restaurant. OK, OK, not correct but once in a month, that is OK. Greta has raw meat, I have grey shrimps and Dr T very nice stovertjes. Ann has cheese croquettes.
We continue our ride through the city and along the Lion Rock, which is in the fog. We enjoy the views. We also see the cable lift to Table Mountain, which is a mountain (you guessed it) in the shape of a table. One of these days, we will be back. We also have to do Robben Island, where Nelson Mandela (the guy with Hubby's finder in his nose) was kept in prison. We see our apartment climbing up the stairs.
One evening, we had visitors: friends of Wes, our friend and old neighbor. I cannot believe nobody took pictures: it was a very cozy night.
The other evening we had ratatouille. Mum's recipe, nobody but the present people and my brother know it.
Unfortunately, we did not make it to Table Mountain, we were too late, too lazy or there was too much fog. And Robben Island was fully booked for days: it is holiday season.
When Tony and I went to the city to enquire for Africa, we almost booked a guided tour, you know with a bus and even tents. Almost but not quiet. We ended up at the Namibian embassy, where a nice lady told us that driving a crappy car in Namibia was not a problem.
We watched sunsets, ate chicken, lay in our Jacuzzi, they played Sudoku, we enjoyed the sun, the games and each other's company till, till the day came; that terrible day the girls had to leave. By accident, we booked one night more (we cannot afford that apartment with 2 people: are you nuts?), so we drove them to the airport: big goodbyes, changed our X-trail into a VW Polo and drove home
The apartment felt empty. And then it started storming and raining. Very bad storm. I hardly slept all night. In the morning, it was not better. My Hubby managed to book us into a hotel with internet for tonight: it is Christmas eve. But still: my heart bleeds as much as the rain drips off the windows. We are on our way for more than 9 months now and I never felt so lonely as that day our girls left. Sure, we stayed in the sun and the holiday but they left a hole in my heart the size of the Grand Canyon.
I miss them so ... .
Talk to you in Namibia, on Christmas Eve of the year 2007.
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