Armed with the knowledge my hip doesn’t bother me when hiking up hill but hurts going downhill, I set out to hike to the top of Table Mountain, a mountain plateau overlooking the city of Cape Town, with a couple fellow backpackers. Fortunate for me there is a cable car to bring me down.
The morning is sunny and blue although as I look at Table Mountain there is cloud sitting perfectly on top like someone melted a marshmallow as it oozes over the sides. One of my hiking buddies has the desire to do one of the more difficult of the hiking routes and we arrive at the entry point of Kirstenbosh, the first botanical gardens in the world. The guards tell us due the fog cover it’s too dangerous to hike, but that he thinks it’ll clear up. The delay creates the surprise of touring a botanist dream. There are over 4500 types of flora and fawna 2500 of which are only indigenous to the Cape area perfectly landscaped amidst an array of walking paths.
As the skies clear we begin what turns into one of the more strenuous three hour stair stepping climbs over boulders, up ladders, and through the forest. About halfway up the cloud cover roles in and the view is disappointingly obscured. My chest is heaving as I feel my heart beating sweat soaking my shirt as we summit the highest peak. Too bad I can’t see anything. Coming up this route has placed us on the far side of the mesa. I stroll through low shrub like bushes and rocks across the top of the mountain, amazingly as I approach the cable car the clouds clear and I’m blessed with sweeping overviews of Cape Town. I’m exhausted and happy I’ve made the trek and don’t have to make the hike down.
On my return to the hostel, I decide to travel like a local in a minibus taxi. It’s a cheap option however it’s a slow option. Minibus taxi’s are a shared taxi ride where they pick up people as they go and take each to their destination dropping off and picking up folks along the way. It’s an adventure in itself as I don’t know where the ride will go or when it’ll make it to my destination. I can’t figure out the complicated hand signal code locals use to let a driver know they want a ride and where they want to go. We pull over to pick up a couple black ladies and as they are about to board another minibus taxi pulls up behind us. The women retreat and take the other ride. Why?? It turns out racism as my Indian driver fumes over being stiffed by a black driver. I’m perplexed and surprised to see the same behavior they don’t wish on themselves.
