The Garden Route

In my high school health class, we completed “Life Lists” in which we documented anything and everything we wanted to accomplish during our time on earth. In the past week, I’ve been able to check off #8 (see an elephant), #26 (drive on the other side of the road), #47 (take photos of nature) and #2, vicariously (bungee jump). It’s been a pretty eventful week.

To celebrate our last week before the start of classes, three friends and I rented a car and road tripped along the Garden Route, which took us along the spectacularly scenic southern coast of Africa. The driving itself was great fun, and I only drove on the wrong side of the road once (don’t worry Dad, I’m alive).



We spent the first evening in a (stationary) train/hostel on the beach in Mossel Bay. These accommodations were not exactly luxurious, but they were kind of hilarious. Our train car, lined with bunk beds on either side, was called “The Dorm,” and also provided shelter for a middle-aged Dutch man as well as some other CIEE kids trekking along the coast. Mossel Bay activities included some sea kayaking, swimming in the Indian Ocean, and celebrating a friend’s 21st with some delicious Italian food and wine on the beach.



The next morning, we headed east so the rest of my car could partake in a Garden Route favorite: the highest bungee jump in the world. Although joining them would have meant crossing off #2 on my life list, I couldn’t quite bring myself to jump. But I did get to watch them via live video feed from the bar, where I enjoyed a cider and hung out with several other groups from CIEE who were there as well.

After the jumpers did their jumping, we headed to Tsitsikamma and participated in a 2 hour zip line tour of the forest. Our DVD from the tour accurately documents the distinct mixture of fear and joy I experienced as I glided across cables 100 feet above the ground.

After ziplining, we headed to Plettenberg Bay where we checked into the Amakaya hostel. For $10 a night, this place was a steal. One of the owners, a handsome young man named Donald, drove us to his favorite restaurant for dinner and ended up staying out with us. We were also able to steal the CD that was playing in his car (up until that point we had been music-less) which we recently learned was actually Now That’s What I Call Music: 50 (yes, there are 50). After dinner, we met up with a few friends at our lovely hostel bar. I partook in a cultural exchange with the other hostel owner, in which I gave him a $2 bill to hang up at his bar and he shared with me his beliefs about affirmative action.

Sidenote: This idea that “reverse racism” is the real social problem seems to be a popular sentiment among many of the white South Africans I met along the way—several people said that because of Black Economic Empowerment, black candidates are almost always hired over their white counterparts, regardless of qualifications. When I asked Leroy, the hostel owner, what he thought should be done to compensate for so many years of oppression, he said, “It’s been 14 years (since the end of Apartheid). People need to move on.”

So after our night at Amakaya, we headed to Knysna, where we played with elephants in the rain. Very muddy, and very amazing. That night, we stayed at a place that I can only describe as majestic. We slept in a cabin surrounded by horses, monkeys (supposedly) and endless stretches of green. $10/person, by the way. One of the hostel owners, Jen, cooked us dinner and we enjoyed the last night of the road trip feasting in her lovely vegetarian kitchen.



It was a wonderful few days, followed by a great weekend in Cape Town. On Friday, I started classes---Applied Ethics, African Literature, African Film and African Instruments (hopefully). On Saturday, I spent the day at the beautiful Camps Bay beach and today we all had lunch at this township party sponsored by a Jack Daniels museum truck (this would take too long to explain in detail). The weekend before our departure, I had the chance to take in a soccer game, in which we were the only white attendees-- it seems that soccer draws in mostly black crowds while rugby attracts the white folk. The next day was spent picnicing in the beautiful Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens. I made hummus.

Overall, life is beautiful… my housemates are clicking well, the weather is 80 degrees and sunny every day and the most expensive meal I’ve had yet cost me about100 rand (10 dollars). This country really has everything—the politics are fascinating, the racial dynamics are constantly evolving, the scenery is breathtaking and the city is exciting. I feel so lucky to be living and learning here.