CAPE TOWN

Paris has the Eiffel Tower, Rome has the Coliseum. St. Louis has its arches and New York has . . . well, everything. But Cape Town has Table Mountain, perhaps the only urban area with a natural, not man-made icon. Smack in the middle of this gorgeous city is an enormous, 3,000-foot high, black granite mountain, with a completely flat top – hence its name. Lion's Head and Signal Hill are two small, pointy-top mountains that flank it on either side. A climate phenomenon creates low-lying clouds that often cover the table top and roll down to the sea, draping over the mountain’’s sides – and is known as the “tablecloth.” With no time to climb up one of the 300 paths, we took the cable car, which rotates as it ascends, 360 degrees, so that the view is constantly changing.

The view from above will always be remembered.

The enormity and vastness of the table surface hit first as we exited the crowded cable car. We couldn't see to the end of the table. As we made our way to the edge of the surface top, along rock pathways, the view took our breathe away. The sea in all directions, with the city sitting comfortably between the mountain and the water, winding its way all around the base. The fog tablecloth had descended and was sitting just offshore.

We walked around the tabletop for about two hours, with a new surprise at every edge and view overhang. The lawyer in me, no, the AMERICAN in me, was astounded that there were no railings along the table's edges - just like on the gorge's edge in Victoria Falls. Hasn't anyone ever fallen overboard? Don't the authorities on this continent worry about fallen tourists and other litigious souls? How refreshing it is to literally, live on the edge when on Municipal property. We could stare death and daring in the face, with relatively little risk. The adrenaline was pumping.

We reluctantly scurried and left the mountain and its heady view and vast openness to rent
a car and head to the wine country, only one short, traffic-free hour from the center of the city. We had a glorious, lazy, lunch on the patio of a decadent winery, and walked through the very-Litchfield-like town until we headed back to the city for a quick nap.

Dinner was special. We went to a place called “Africa Café,” owned by an Australian and his native wife. There was no menu. Dinner was described as "Communal," and the 16 small dishes represented cuisine from all over Africa. There was Kenyan cocunut chicken, Ethiopian sik sik wat, (don't ask), Xhosa ithanga fritters, Malawi mbatata cheese & sim sim balls, (no, not THAT kind), Moroccan herb salad, and Swaziland pineapple cake with fresh yogurt, to name just a few. We ate from brightly-colored and unmatched ceramics dishes served by natives, dressed in clothing that coordinated with the colors of the dishes, the tablecloths and the walls. Everywhere there was color - African color. The servers sang and danced as they served and the building was a leftover from the Colonial era. It was the freshest, tastiest food I have had in a very long time.

On our second and last full day here we drove about 1 hour away to Cape Point, the southernmost point in Africa and the place where the Indian and Atlantic Oceans meet. The drive was impressive. Miles and miles and miles of just the right amount of winding road, along a very rugged coast on our right and the granite and pink sandstone mountains on our left. It was very similar to the Pacific Coast Highway in California, but the mountains were not as far from the coast and the road was sea level. And this was Africa - not Hollywood! And, there were baboons, ostrich and penquins along the way.

Dinner was back in Cape Town, on the waterfront, outdoors, with heaters, as the South African summer is quickly waning and autumn is setting in.


We are packing now. Our flight home is scheduled to depart at 3 pm.

Goodbye Africa.