Trip Report:
Two Weeks in South Africa, January 1999
Richard's Version
Day 8
Friday, January 15th-
Today we were scheduled for a tour of Robben Island in the afternoon. We had never been told when the tour was leaving, so we had to call Specialty Tours several times. Finally around 9:30 they told us the boat was scheduled to leave from the waterfront at 1:30, which was earlier than we had expected. It didn't leave us much time in the morning to do much. We went downstairs to catch the phantom shuttle, and again had to wait 45 minutes before it came to take us downtown. Our first stop was the Tourist Information Center (TIC) so we could see about booking a township tour for the next day. We were having a very white African experience, and we didn't want to go home without knowing the way the 'other half' (or in this case 80%) live. In the office we found we could book a tour for the next morning with Cape Rainbow Tours, a group that actually works with the townships to improve public schools and services. For 160R each a guide would pick us up at our hotel at 8:30am, give us the tour and have us back at 1pm. Very reasonable considering the $50 tours Specialty Tours was offering. If you go, keep in mind that Cape Town is very well organized for tourism, and you probably don't have to book any tours more than a couple days in advance. Don't get suckered (like we did) by advanced bookings at inflated dollar prices!
Our second stop was the InterCape bus station to find out about shuttles to the airport. We had to pick up our rental car there at 7pm, so we were told to come back at 6pm for the hourly trip to the airport (30R each). Because it had been raining the other day, we went to the antiques market again. It was much busier on a sunny day, with many more stands. But alas, we didn't buy anything. We walked down to the waterfront around 12:30 and arrived starving.
We stopped at a sandwich shop and got a sandwich. It was hard to choose from such favorites as the 'Yankee' and the 'New York' sandwich, which had fillings we had never heard of before (Monkey Gland?), and some really weird combinations. We had boring chicken salad. We sat on the quay, ate, listened to a nice a capella group, looked at the pretty clock tower (synchronized to the tides) and waited for the boat traffic to subside so the swinging footbridge to the boat launch would close for us. Once we crossed we watched the seals on the pier until someone showed up.
Eventually a gaggle of obvious archaeologists arrived, but they had just been dumped at the wharf without a guide and without tickets for the ferry and tour. In the ticket office they didn't seem to have a clue about our tour, until I remembered a flyer tucked in one of our tour buses for 'African Eagle' tours, the company Specialty tours contracted everything out too (after charging an exorbitant fee I'm sure). Then tickets magically appeared.
The Robben Island tour is very popular and well run. The ferries are brand new, comfortable catamarans with a short introductory video (narrated in the first person by the island itself) telling about the history of 500 years of incarcerations on the island. The ride to the island lasted about 20 minutes, and afforded some great views of Table Mountain.
At the island everyone boards a variety of buses ranging from modern air conditioned monsters to 1940s retired school buses. Each bus has a tour guide and a driver. Our guide was a nice young woman who lives on the island. I hadn't known there was actually a town on the island, but about 180 people live there (most of them can be found in the pub after hours). The bus took us past the maximum security prison where Nelson Mandela spent 18 years, as well as the prison for actual criminals (not as secure as the one for political prisoners). We stopped for a moment at the limestone quarry where Mandela and others worked. They had originally not been given any activities, but they asked for work just to keep themselves occupied. This was where the 'University' began, where the educated prisoners began to teach the uneducated. We were told how the guards came to an informal agreement with the prisoners, allowing the teaching. We also saw some of the old naval gun emplacements, ostriches and bontebok.
The bus tour ends at the political prison, where our guide turned us over to another guide, a man who had spent time as a prisoner here. He guided us through the prison, explaining how life was there, how the censor's office would manipulate the mail (controlling access, or even falsifying letters) to cause anguish to the prisoners. We saw the courtyards which were divided by high walls to keep the prisoners from communicating. Tennis balls carried messages between yards, and drainage pipes passed small amenities like shampoo and cigarettes.
Then we saw the cell block where Nelson Mandela was held, with the cells furnished in different ways reflecting the periods before and after international humanitarian scrutiny began. Early cells had only mats and blankets. Later there were small cots and lockers. The cells have barred doors and windows, but on the outside there is a second door and glass window that can be closed to isolate the prisoner.
We were also shown one of the large communal cell blocks. These cells were used to mix political prisoners with criminals who were often incited to beat or terrorize the political prisoners. But what often happened was the criminals instead became politicized.
Because the tour was given by a former prisoner, it seemed much more meaningful than it would have been with a professional tour guide. At times the guide's voice would become more husky as he described some of the deprivations of prison life. Clearly he was not just reading a script. Overall the visit was quite moving.
The ferry trip back to the waterfront was quite bumpy. Swells were up to 3 feet or so, and the boat bounced quite spectacularly a few times. Great fun!
We got back to the quay at about 5:30, leaving us very little time to get downtown for the shuttle bus. Of course, the driver who dropped off everyone else from our group wasn't in the parking lot. However, a bunch of WAC folks who had been on Robben Island for the UNESCO Heritage conference were loading into shuttle buses. I made myself sound like I belonged, and told the driver we had to be at the bus station fast. Others from our group made the mistake of saying they were with Specialty Tours, and they got left behind.
Turned out we need not have rushed. The 6pm bus was actually a 6:30pm bus (and we were told to pay the driver rather than buy tickets at the office, both different from when we asked in the morning!). It was another of the ubiquitous Toyota minibuses, and with one other passenger we practically flew to the airport.
At the airport I stood in line behind one other person for about 20 minutes at the Hertz desk. Obviously someone was not happy about their arrangements, and weren't leaving until things changed. Eventually they were satisfied and left, and it only took a minute for me to rent our car. We had decided to rent from the airport to make it easier to return when we left, since our flight out is at 10pm, we would spend the day out, then just dump the car and get in the plane. The car cost about 1750R for the week (2100R with taxes). In the parking lot there was actually an attendant, a very nice man who showed us how the alarm system worked, where all the controls on the car were, what kind of gas to put in etc. Wow! What service. Here you're lucky if they tell you were to find the car!
The car was a white Toyota Corolla (Toyota is doing great in the South African Market!) with a triple security system. The key fob was a remote to activate/disarm the car, then after turning the key you had to press it again to disable the kill switch to start the engine. If you accidently trip the alarm, there was yet another key with an IC chip that had to be inserted into a slot on the dash to reset everything. Whew! I was kept busy just remembering how to start the car. Thank god we got an automatic transmission.
Alison began the mantra of 'stay on the left' and we headed out of the airport. Luckily our hotel was right off the main road (the N2) from the airport to Cape Town, so there was no surface street navigation on this starting run, and all went smoothly. We were back in the hotel safely by about 8:30. We had an uninspired dinner in the buffet at the hotel. I had some decent roast chicken and a made to order stir fry, but Alison kept getting burned- little things like mashed cauliflower instead of potatoes and some white beans with fish. Then back to the room to write some dozen postcards or so.
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Notes/Resources
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Last Updated 19 February, 1999
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