Robben Island

It was a beautiful day, the perfect kind of day to go to the beach or visit an island. Not just any island though – for the morning, Joseph had booked us a tour of Robben Island, which was used as a prison for political prisoners under the apartheid regime. Okay, so maybe hanging around the South African version of the Alcatraz not quite tropical island fantasy material, but it was definitely an enlightening trip.

I’ve been reading the novel Invictus (yes, it was made into a Hollywood movie starring Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon). It’s an inspiring story about how Nelson Mandela used an important rugby game to try to unite the country after apartheid. The first part of the novel is fascinating because it talks about how Mandela managed to get his political plan in place even from prison, including during the eighteen years he spent in Robben Island. So it was pretty interesting to get to see the actual place where some of this stuff happened.

To get to Robben Island, we took a “ferry”, although Joseph drily remarked that it was more of a dinghy.



Once we arrived, we got to see a lot of the sights around the island


before Robben Island held prisoners, it used to be a leper colony.


some of the dog kennels holding the guard dogs were bigger than the prisoners' cells.


the lime quarry where prisoners such as Nelson Mandela had to dig, in conditions so rough they frequently fell sick. Our guide tells us the quarry caused permanent damage to Mandela's tear ducts, making him unable to cry.

What was particularly interesting about this tour was that our tour guide was a former prisoner named Tumisani, who had been sentenced to thirteen years for high treason, and spent five and a half years in Robben Island. It sounds strange and possibly morbid to have guys that spent their worst years in the prison showing us around their bad memories, but I can tell you we all listened to everything he had to say.


our guide




tourists view Nelson Mandela's cell


view of the garden where Nelson Mandela hid his draft manuscripts of A Long Walk To Freedom, which he wrote while in prison.


photos of prisoners

One of us asked Tumisani why he would choose to go back to the prison and work as a tour guide as he and many other former prisoners did. Tumisani explained that when he was first released from Robben Island, at first he couldn’t speak to his family about what he had gone through. He would get flashbacks and would have to call someone to help him through it. Eventually though, he found that it was better to talk about it, and he explained to us that someone has to do it.




i'm not sure why there is a picture of santa in the prisoners' quarters.

The ferry/dinghy boat right back to Cape Town’s harbour was turbulent, as the ocean waters were quite turbulent, but I still managed to sleep right through it.

In the afternoon, we did my favourite outdoor activity: beach!



Clifton has four beaches. Number one seemed empty. Number two, according to our guide book, was for models and narcissists. Number three was popular with gay men, and number four was four families. Obviously I was going to beach number two.


Clifton Beach Number 2

As it turned out, our guide book did not lie. It was like there was some kind of unseen “No Ugly People” rule at beach number two. I was quite amazed at how absolutely beautiful everyone was on the beach, guys and girls. Even the teenagers were buff. It made me feel like I was inadequate and had to go to the gym, and those who know me know that normally I’m a self-worshipping narcissist with an ego as big as the sun and a tendency to kiss my own biceps.


yessss popsicles


maple leaf shaped sand castles


some beach performers donning santa hats



In the evening, our couple for the night was Sarah and her German boyfriend Till. The two of them met us at Galbi, a Korean fusion restaurant. You can guess who chose the venue.




I had been missing Korean food for a long, long, long time and was excited to be able to have some again once I got to the metropolis of Cape Town. Korean food is, after all, one of the healthiest diets out there. I have to admit I was a bit disappointed that it was more of a Korean fusion place, rather than the authentic grandma’s cooking hole-in-the-wall joint you’d find at Yonge and Finch, but honestly, it had been so long since I’d had Korean food that wasn’t made by me that I was still grateful. It was definitely my first time eating Korean food served by white people, cooked by black people.


banchan! galbi! ssamkyupsal! 반찬! 갈비! 삼겹살!


sojitos (soju + mojitos)


pouring soju drinks with both hands, as per Korean custom dictates.
mmm 소주.


kimchi chigae 김치 찌개

The kimchi wasn’t made with the traditional nappa cabbage, but I was surprisingly impressed by the spice level of the kimchi chigae. I took the leftovers back to the hotel and later on used the broth to make kimchi ramen noodles, which totally hit the spot for a New Years hangover. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I still have to tell you about New Years Eve.

A road trip to the end of Africa

the sound of the waves crashing against the end of the day;
i think back on this place, all the things that you could have saved
if i'm sleeping through the day, i feel like from this dream I'm awake,
as the sun is making its way down to the edge of the shining lake

all these thoughts spent on you,
they're the only things that are getting me through
all the heartache and the pain,
but i know that summer will come again someday
-"Beach Dreams" by Teen Daze

Cape Town! Everyone who mentions the city does so with a certain sparkle in their eye and excitement in their voice. Cape Town! A hidden hipster hotspot tucked in the corner of Africa, known as the Las Vegas, San Francisco, and New York of Africa, all in one. Cape Town! “I might get robbed once a year in Windhoek, but in Cape Town, it’s more like seven times a year,” says my Namibian friend. We’re certainly not in Windhoek anymore.

We checked into our fabulously luxurious hotel suite and then I grabbed dinner at Mamma Africa’s with Joseph, who I’ve started calling my Road Oppa. Cape Town natives claim the restaurant’s too touristy – and really, anything on Long Street will be touristy – but we still enjoyed it our Zimbabwean dovi and lamb curry, with a side of sweet live music, a band that sounded almost like an African jazz version of Tortoise, with mesmerizing marimbas and drums, culminating in a percussive cover of Shakira’s Waka Waka. Cape Town!

I didn’t think it was going to be a late night, but then we hit up some clubs, including a lively place called Cubana’s, and then all of a sudden we found ourselves in a McDonald’s drive-thru, arguing about what South African laws are about public urination. Yes, Cape Town has McDonald’s. Happiness is going to bed at 4AM with Filet-O-Fish on your breath.




On our first morning in Cape Town, we went for a road trip to the end of Africa, driving around the Cape Peninsula to see what we could see. The entire area is absolutely beautiful, flanked by the ocean and mountains on both sides and palm trees throughout. As you know, the three things in nature that make Gloria happy are oceans, mountains, and palm trees, and so I was very happy (sadly, my hometown Ottawa has none of this).











We drove through the beautiful beaches of Clifton and the beautiful people bathing there. The houses overlooking the water are, as you might imagine, ridiculously affluent. I decided I need to make friends with people who have houses there, maybe set Allison up with a rich Afrikaner boyfriend so I can invite myself over and use the oceanside swimming pool.


clifton beaches




clifton houses



In the midst of all the affluence, we suddenly came across a much poorer informal settlement. It came as a bit of a surprise, because Cape Town is generally very effective at keeping its social problems like crime and poverty hidden out of sight, swept under a rug. With rich mansions surrounding the settlement on all sides, I can only imagine that there must be pressure to push the settlement out for its valuable real estate. Whatever social problems it might face, this ghetto probably has the best scenic view in the world.




We drove through more little towns, stopping at various lookout points to take in the view. Eventually we got to Simon’s Town, a quaint little place with all sorts of neat little shops and more importantly, penguins on the beach.






cuddling penguins









Yeah, I totally thought they were cute too, until one bit me. What a jerk. I like to think it was just a love nibble though. I like to think I have that kind of effect on penguins.






i've been kissed by a rose

Boulders Beach is kind of a magical place where these African penguins hang out, and people swim alongside them. It’s like right out of a friggin’ Disney movie, except the Disney movies don’t portray how much the penguins stink, and also, the penguins bite.



boulders beach




We drove on.

The sun was starting to set by the time we hit Cape Point, which has a lot of great hiking trails in the area. One of them was a very high, narrow and freaky looking walk to the light house at the edge of the cliff. Of course my fear of heights and water kicked in. Of course Joseph made me do the hike anyway. I do what the Road Oppa says to do.


cape point






the walk to the lighthouse...do you see it?

it's a pretty hike, but pretty narrow and high...



When we got back into the car, we were confronted, quite randomly, by ostriches on the road.





Eventually we got to our final destination, the Cape of Good Hope, the most southwestern point of all of Africa. We’d basically driven to the end of the continent. It was a surreal feeling, not just because there were ostriches grazing around us. I just kept envisioning a map of Africa, and seeing the exact spot on which I stood. I get these moments sometimes, where I just can’t believe that I’m here where I am, in this faraway place in Africa.





By the time we got back to Cape Town, it was night and time to go for a Mexican dinner at the Mexican Kitchen, washed down with a Naked Mexican beer. We had a great server who we called Awesome Chris, who personally ran to the store to buy bananas for our banana dessert because the store had run out.

We also had a creepy restaurant manager who we called Awkward Nick, who was trying to sell us drugs. I think. He actually asked me for drugs, and when I said I didn’t have any, he told us that we could buy some from Rasta Joe, off in the corner of the restaurant. I asked Awkward Nick why he didn’t just buy the drugs from Rasta Joe himself. I didn’t really get an answer. I don’t know if Asian stereotypes are different here in South Africa, but for some reason people keep trying to get me to sell/buy drugs. Even at the South African border, while the South African police had their dogs searching our luggage for drugs, a guy sauntered up to me and asked me for rolling papers at the same time. Apparently there’s something about Gloria – it makes penguins want to bite and people want to do drugs.

After our yummy Mexican meal, we hit up the gay clubs in Greenpoint, which was nice because Cape Town actually has an overt gay scene, unlike Windhoek. The two clubs Bronx and Cruz were right next to each other, and both full of beautiful sweaty boy bodies bumping into each other on the dark dance floor. The bartenders were all shirtless toned guys wearing silver spandex shorts – and were all straight men, I found out. I imagine the tips must be good in a place like this. There were actually a lot of shirtless straight guys in the club too, as apparently gay bars in Africa are a great place to pick up women – go figure. I got my dance on and didn’t leave until four in the morning again, which was rapidly become my new bedtime. Cape Town!