Hi all,

Sunburned Skyeball reporting from the "Mama City." I'd like to express my displeasure with Neutrogena Oil-Free Sunscreen SPF 45. It doesn't work under the African sun -- which, I must say, may beat out the Aussie sun for skin scorching.

Anyway, we found an internet cafe that charges R5 (less than US$1) for an hour of service...so here we are.

The flight from Johannesburg to Cape Town was a little rocky. We had one of those one-side-of-the-plane-down-and-then-the-other moments. I'm a veteran flyer, but I had an uh-oh moment there. When we got off the plane and the wind whipped our hair up in our faces, I understood why. It's windy here in Cape Town. Guess that's understandable, seeing as it's almost as far south as you can go before hitting Antarctica...and close to where the Atlantic Ocean meets the Indian Ocean.

We caught a cab (not a taxi -- they are the 15-passenger minivans that speed around town) to the neighborhood we're staying in: Bo-Kaap. It was formerly the neighborhood for Cape Town's "coloured," or mixed-race, population. Now it's a big Muslim neighborhood. We hear the call to prayer every morning at 4:30. The houses are all painted really bright colors and there are cobblestone streets here and there. Bo-Kaap is close to one of the big touristy areas, Long Street. So we unpacked and then headed down there to check it out. (After my phone calls to Robben Island Museum, story TK.)

So yeah, tourists. Everywhere. All of them carrying backpacks and looking nervous. A few people have been mugged in daylight on Long Street recently. Add that to South Africa's overall reputation as a dangerous place and you've got a lot of sunburned white people clutching their bags for dear life. We haven't had any problems at all, aside from one guy who got very close to Sean while he was looking for a bottle of Pinotage wine today. I stepped in between them and forced a little distance...so nothing happened. But we *have* been taking cabs home at night, even if it's just a few blocks, because the streets are dark and we figure it's better to spend a few bucks than lose much more than that.

So we wandered. The stores all close at 5:30 p.m. here, so it was all about restaurant scoping and people watching. We grabbed beers/ciders at a corner cafe. There is an excellent hard cider here called Savannah Dry that I highly recommend, should you find yourself in South Africa. The beers, well, Sean has not been too impressed yet. We ended up going to a game restaurant. I got the veggie platter, which was very good. Sean got this massive skewer of 3 different antelope that was taller than he was. Can't speak for the meat, but he seemed happy.

We are staying in a B&B called Rose Lodge, run by a nice Canadian guy named Bruce. He has two dogs. The room is exquisitely decorated. We can hear people on the street through our windows. It's good and safe and really reasonably priced. So after being jolted awake by the call to prayer, we headed out to Robben Island, where Nelson Mandela was incarcerated for almost two decades.

The Back Story. As soon as we got to Rose Lodge, I tried to call the Robben Island Museum. I'd emailed three times from the U.S. to get official permission to interview for a story I pitched to a public radio show. No answer. So I called. No room on the tours for all three days we're here. But the lady recommended we show up the next morning and see if there were cancellations. So we did. We trekked over to the V&A Waterfront -- the supremely touristy area -- and asked at the desk. The woman said "Want to go now?" We bought tickets and were in the boat in 5 minutes. Since I'd promised this piece on how former prisoners from Robben Island are now tour guides as part of South Africa's Truth and Reconciliation process, I breathed a very, very big sigh of relief.

It's a 45-minute boat ride out to Robben Island. We got there and hopped onto an old bus. I knew I had to rush on to get a good seat near the tour guide in front. Poor Sean had me holding out the mike in front of his face the whole time. We had a great, lively tour guide who had been involved with the PAC, the Pan-African Congress, during apartheid era. He had lots of stories and insults for people of all nationalities. Ours had to do with Hillary Clinton taking a trip to Robben Island with Mandela while Bill was "busy" back in the White House. And Michael Jackson. And world domination. You get the point. But he was a great introducer to this strange place called Robben Island. It has, at various points, been a mental asylum, a home for people with leprosy and home to both criminals and politicians who opposed the apartheid government. We drove around and then got off at the maximum-security prison, where Mandela and many others were held.

The luck of the slightly Irish must have been with me. Our guide was one of the former prisoners, and he agreed to let me tape -- and talk to him afterward -- because it was for public, not commercial, radio. He is an interesting guy. I am so fascinated by the fact that he left a steady office job to come live and work on Robben Island. He says he loves the place. And he says the best thing he can do is to help other people learn about the history of SA and that it is possible to move forward from such dark days as apartheid. The woman standing with him said to me that it all boils down to what Nelson Mandela said: "We must forgive, but never forget."

I'm struck by the fact that reconciliation seems to be working, at least a little bit. Race relations are by no means perfect here. But there seems to be a genuine effort to move beyond the pain and shame of pre-1994 to eke out a life under new rules. I don't know that I've seen that happen much in the States.

Anyway, because we stayed to talk with our guide, we ended up missing the boat. So we walked over to where a big group of African penguins were hanging out, watched them, and then scoured the books in the curio shop until the next boat was ready to leave. Let me just say that the waves are really enormous in the southern Atlantic Ocean. They're big and rolling. But the view of Cape Town -- with Table Mountain and the 12 Apostles and Lion's Head and Signal Hill is stunning. It is soooo beautiful.

We dumped my recording equipment back at the B&B and then headed out to Kirstenbosch Gardens. I'd carried the wallet of the wife of a friend of mine from the States, and we delivered it to her at her birthday picnic in Kirstenbosch. It's one of the nicest botanical gardens I've ever seen. Lots of fynbos plants. That's an ecosystem that -- if I have it right -- only exists in the western cape area of South Africa. We hung out with my friend, his wife, their kids and various friends of theirs for a few hours, and then headed out to wander through the gardens and down to the main gate. It was peaceful. A lot of families and groups of friends come there to picnic. I know I would if I lived here!

We came back and got dropped off at the V&A Waterfront so Sean could try the beers in a pub called Mitchell's. We watched the Manchester United/Reading soccer game and then wandered. Of course, this being a very small world, we ran right into one British couple who had been with us on the Kruger safari!

As we were trying to go to sleep, this parade started on the hill above Rose Lodge in Bo-Kaap. I could hear it but not see it. Horns and drums everywhere. We listened, then headed to bed. Then, after Sean had fallen asleep, the parade came marching down Rose Street. Glittery uniforms. A few cars following behind the marchers. Apparently they are celebrating the freedom of the slaves in Cape Town. It was a neat festive moment, even from afar.

Today we actually slept in (!!!) and planned to go hike up Table Mountain. But the winds were against us -- the cable car was closed because of gale-force winds. So we decided to explore and try the mountain tomorrow. We walked out to a neighborhood called Green Point and went to the open-air market. There were hundreds of people selling African masks and beadwork and spoons and bowls and fabric. It's tourist central. I bargained for a potato-print fabric that's bright red and yellow and green (my favorite colors these days). Sean bought an interesting little painting -- kind of an abstract group of people at sunset. It's hard to explain. We headed back past the Cape Quarter -- tried and failed to find a store -- and then back at the B&B. Then we walked along the Company Gardens, a free park that runs through the middle of town. People were out picnicking and laying in the grass and wandering. We even saw one couple taking wedding photos. We went to the National Gallery to see a photo exhibit of the work of Santu Mofokeng. It was great stuff: black and white street photography that makes you pause and look again. After sufficient art appreciation, we headed out to the Gardens district. There's a street called Kloof that's full of cafes and restaurants. Sean has not been so happy with the coffee situation here, so he was jonesing for some. We found the Seattle Coffee Company -- a South African company, by the way, not American -- and settled in for a while. And now we're in the Internet cafe. There you have it.

Here are some of the things that have caught my eye:

- They call those traffic calmers near the tolls "rumble humps"
- People in cities (well, Joburg) transport three cows in the back of a standard-size pickup
- South Africans have an interesting way of passing: the car in front moves onto the shoulder and signals on the right, the car behind zooms ahead and then blinks its flashers in thanks
- People on the sidewalk mimic traffic & walk on the left
- Even the tourists beg for money
- I wish I were more fearless
- It's more expensive here than I expected...and easier to be a vegetarian

Anyway, internet time is up and it's time to go get Indian food for dinner. More later.

S.