Day 14, May 30, 2013: Time to go home. I collect the last of my things and pack it up. I have a last meal of samoosas in the hotel bar. It’s a deep fried packet of dough filled with vegetables and spices. Another heated meal that gets me sweating before I can finish it all. Right on time Joseph arrives to pick me up. I’m going to make one last stop before I leave. I visit the Apartheid Museum. On the advice of Joseph, I allow 3 hours for the visit and it wasn’t enough. The museum offers 3 points of view. A general history of the land, an extensive exhibit on the life of Nelson Mandela and an in depth examination of apartheid and how it affected all aspects of the South African society. Right at the start you get a taste of what was and how it impacted people. The entrance is lined with benches marked as “white” and “non-white”. The museum has the same designation over its two entrances. Each ticket is randomly marked as “white” or “non-white” and you must use your designated door. My ticket is noted as non-white, so I enter as required feeling a shadow of the emotions anyone who wasn’t white had to deal with every day under this enforced segregation. The museum does a very good job of presenting an impartial and full explanation of how this system came to be, what it did to everyone at the time and how it is still affecting the country. The most compelling room has hanging from the ceiling 131 nooses representing every person that was executed under the terrorism laws passed to fight the opponents of apartheid. I stand there stunned for I don’t know how long. In a somber mood I review the rest of the timeline to the end of the exhibit; having to rush a bit to meet Joseph and get to the airport in time. I will definitely come back if I ever get the chance to visit South Africa again. Joseph gets me to the airport quickly and we say good-bye for the last time. I was lucky to connect with him. He was a good man. I get through security without any trouble. I find a quiet spot to pass the time, since my Delta sky Club pass was a total waste of money. Here I am told I can get in if I am willing to pay 250 Rands (about $28.00). Thanks, but no thanks. Soon I am boarding the plane and try to settle in while 3 South African ladies prattle on and on and on. Thank goodness I can’t understand Afrikaans or I would have been even more distracted. After dinner and some wine, they finally run out of gas and drift off to sleep. I try to nod off myself with limited success. After about 10 hours we land in Paris at the De Gaulle Airport . Dreading the 4 hour layover I have, I head to the Air France lounge. Again, no room at the inn. The folks at this Air France lounge here were a bit nicer about it than at Houston. I go to a far end of airport to settle into a quiet spot to read and pass the time. Finally it is time to board for the last leg. The good news is I have a bulk-head seat. My 3 seat mates are guys that work together in Louisiana and took advantage of the same airfare deal as I did. A good seat and good company. I’m feeling good just a baby across the aisle begins to cry. They crying continues off and on for the entire trip. Not much sleep for me. I get into Houston and run the gauntlet to Customs. There are hundreds waiting. Once I get through I have to go to second line to check out the food I have brought back with me. Most gets through with the exception of some biltong. They take the different antelope meats since I can’t verify how it was processed. There is a concern for cattle diseases which antelope can carry. The officials are real nice about it and seem to go the extra mile to be sure they are right. My relaxed layover has evaporated and I have to race to the American terminal on the other side of the airport. The guy at the counter checks me in quickly and puts a priority tag on my luggage. What a nice guy I think. As I walk away I look at the boarding pass and see that I have priority access marked here as well. Happily, I glide through security and get to the gate with a few minutes to rest. I give my boarding pass another look to see where I am sitting. My heart sinks as I notice the ticket is for someone with my first and last name, but a different middle name. I run up to the gate counter to find out my fears are right. They checked in the wrong James Smith! Worse news to come. American had me booked on the previous flight that left 20 minutes after I landed from Paris. After what seemed like a long, long time it is straightened out. I’m in the last group to board, but at least I am going to get home. Now the plane is delayed. More waiting. We may be late taking off, but we end up landing ahead of schedule. That pilot flew like a bat out of hell. I’ll be his friend always. Forty five minutes to get to Dallas. It’s hot and I’m already sneezing, but it feels good to be back. I drop the bags at the door and wait for the pizza I ordered on the way home. I eat and watch a little TV before I call it a day and fall blissfully asleep in my own bed. I wake up at 4am, so I know I have a little work to get back in sync. I hope I can get this done before work on Monday. The next post will be the last which will be a reflection on the last two weeks.

Day 13, May 29, 2013: It was an interesting night traversing the tracks overnight. I kept myself in the bed at least. I don’t think I would have slept too well if I hadn’t taken a pill. I did awake at some point in the night. I was curious about the sights outside, so I took a look out the window to see if there would be any glowing eyes peering back at me. Not a twinkle was to be seen except for the stars in the sky. My camera couldn’t capture the sharp little shards of light arranged in constellations that were unknown to me. I just make out the undulations of the landscape in the horizon. It was a beautiful sight that I relish for a short while. The pill begins to kick back in and I fall back to bed until early morning. It was clear we were approaching urban life again as I wake up. We pass more townships and small farms. We pause more often now, as we did on our departure from Cape Town. A quick wash in the communal shower at the end of the car (no shave this morning; I’d cut my throat for sure) and then I go to the dining car for my last meal. We start off with mango juice and yogurt followed by a full breakfast of toast, perfectly cooked eggs, ham, grilled tomato, boerewors sausage and mashed potatoes with gravy. Yes, that’s right, mashed and gravy for breakfast. Oliver soon joins me for our last meal together. After a while we say good-bye and wish each other well. I spend a few minutes talking with an older Africaan couple at the next table before I make my way back to my compartment to collect my things and get ready to disembark at 11:00am. Just as I settle in to watch the scenery for the last bit of the trip there is a knock at the door. We are arriving 30 minutes early! I send a frantic text message to my driver, Joseph, who took us on our Johannesburg tour Monday of last week. As a typical South African, he texts back that is no problem; he will be there. After a short wait in the lounge he collects my bags and we’re off to the hotel. Not able to take off his tour guide hat, he gives some tidbits of information of the places we pass on the highway. I settle into my room and attempt to organize my photos and finally get some uploading done. Now that I finally have a reliable internet connection, my camera is acting up. I can’t find the photos from the train trip!!! I walk away in frustration to get some lunch and clear my head before sorting this out. I find a restaurant that seems busy with locals and order an appetizer of deep fried squid heads. This is the first deep fried food I have had since I left the states. It’s a huge portion and good. Thank goodness I didn’t order an entrée. I never would have finished it. I walk around the shops afterwards and begin to feel fatigue coming on. Maybe I didn’t sleep as well as I thought on the train. I go back to hotel for a nap. Several staffers recognize me from my last stay and welcome me back. I’m glad to be staying here. Dinner was a treat. The restaurant called Moyo is very dark. The pictures needed the flash to show up. Before the food arrived a young woman arrived at my table carrying a wooden bowl, a clay pitcher and a towel. She asks me is I would like to wash my hands. After this unusual service my first course arrives. I start with a smoked snoek pate. The French would be appalled. It looked more like tuna salad, but tasted great. I also get a serving of flat bread with dukkah, an Egyptian dipping sauce of spices, herbs and nuts. Their version is served in olive oil. South Africa has a thriving olive business and makes some good oils. I resisted eating all of the snoek and bread to save room for the main dish, a shank of springbok. Two big shanks were braised in an apricot and almond chutney. It was spicy and after finishing half of the second shank I had to quit. The burn was slowly getting to me. I had some almond ice cream afterwards to cool me off. On the way back to the hotel I was feeling the fatigue coming on again. I think this trip might be ending at the right time. I’ve enjoyed this time away, but I have to admit it would be good to be in my own bed again. I've run out of storage space for the pictures, so I'll be looking for another site to host my photos. I'll be sure to share the new link in a later post.

Day 12, May 28, 2013: Train trip! I again wake up to a pouring rain hoping it isn’t raining on the train route. I’ve been looking forward to seeing the countryside as we travel north to Jo’burg. Mbeke, from the hotel, drives me into town to the train station. I check-in to get my ticket and have my bag checked. It’s nice not dealing with airport-style security. I’m ushered into the lounge where we are served coffee and tea while we wait to board. A manager welcomes us and explains how we will board as well as what to expect on the train. My bag soon arrives after I enter my compartment to be stored. It’s just like the old movies. I unpack my backpack and settle in. It will be a bit cramped, but so much more comfortable than a plane or car. We slowly head out from the station right on time. The weather isn’t cooperating and remains cloudy and grey with a bit a rain now and then. We pass through the wine country I visited a few days ago and recognize some of the landmarks. We all go to the club car for a welcome glass of champagne and some snacks of nuts, biltong, potato chips and sandwiches. The man in charge of the dining car comes round to ask me if I wish to eat alone or share a table. Give me a partner I tell him. I take this opportunity to ask about the dress code. After he give a quick look at my jeans, Woolrich shirt and boots he pronounces it fine for dinner. I’m glad I packed the dress clothes, ugh! After a couple of cups of coffee I retire to my compartment to get caught up on my blogging and picture organizing. Whatever it costs, I will get the uploads done tomorrow. There’s no internet at all on the train. I’m a little put out at first, but come to realize that this will be a moving oasis of quiet and solitude. I’m glad I brought my Kindle along. I’ll pick on the reading I left off on the plane from Amsterdam. About an hour and half into our trip we slow to a stop. I don’t worry. We came to brief stop of a minute or two before. I assumed for clearance of a track up ahead. This time we stopped for some time. I pass a porter on my way back from the bathroom. He smiles when I ask if there is any trouble with the train. “Not at all”, he says. After sitting for 10 minutes or so, I decide to go to the club car to hear the information the gossip can produce. No one except the bartender is there. He tells me the train is stopped at a signal waiting for clearance. He further warns me that this happens all along the route. My assumption was right. I just didn’t realize how long it would take. After another 10 minutes we hear a train whooshing past going in the opposite direction. Not long after the whistle to our train blows and we are off again. Train travel here is not what you see in Europe or even the USA. The local urban trains are generally convenient and reasonable priced, but the long distance trains are infrequent and not as timely as I thought. My intention when I was first planning this trip was to go from Jo’burg to Durban and then on west to Cape Town; terminating back in Jo’burg. Not possible. I would have to go back to Jo’burg from Durban and then continue on the Cape Town. I throw that idea out when I figure that I would be traveling 40% of my trip and seeing the same countryside twice. That’s when I decide to fly to Cape Town and return by rail. It’s all odd to me since this was a British colony for quite some time. They are the champion train riders. I would have thought they would have built up the rail system. Perhaps it was to keep travel to the interior more difficult; particularly, after diamonds and gold were discovered. I’m assigned to share a dining table with a Dutch author named Oliver. He has just arrived to write a book regarding the long term economies of Africa and whether they can sustain themselves after the mineral wealth is consumed. We have a nice conversation about South Africa (his first visit as well) and other African countries he has visited, our homelands, politics and other less weighty topics over our 3 course lunch. I was a bit worried who I would be paired up with traveling alone as I was, but I couldn’t ask for more pleasant company on this trip. We say good-bye until dinner. I join the club car for high tea at 4:00pm. It’ a casual affair as was lunch. I relax and enjoy the scenery while savoring my tea and carrot cake. It’s pleasant in spite of a set of three young girls that can’t seem to settle down nor are their parents inclined to make them. That is until one crosses the line by making the youngest, her brother, wail and cry. Father takes her away and we hear cries of woe from behind a closed door. Later both returned although the girl is very subdued; thankfully. Close on their heels my table mate Oliver joins me for his afternoon coffee. We talk about the trip thus far and eventually fall into a quiet solitude, he reading his book and me staring at the landscape. I return to my compartment to watch the sun set and do a little reading before dinner at 6:45pm. Dinner was a leisurely activity. I had a sparkling water while waiting for my table mate. No menu for some reason. Eventually my partner arrives. I was conversing with Oliver and the couple next to us, completely forgetting to take any photos of the meal. Oliver and I agree that a bottle of wine would go well with our meal. He’s a red wine drinker, so I acquiesce (without complaint) to his desire and he allows me to pick the wine. He hasn’t had the chance to taste the local varietal, pinotage, which I told him about over lunch. He’s anxious to try it and ends up liking it very much. We began with a cream of pea soup. Next course was hake, a South African fish that is quite common. It’s a thick firm fleshed fish that is similar to cod or haddock. The main course was beef goulash. I have to admit it was an entrée I never expected to be eating on this trip. It was good. They served it with rice, peas and carrots. We had a coffee flavored chocolate mousse for dessert. Last was a variety of cheeses, topped off with coffee. Again, the conversation is very enjoyable. We talk of work, life, and politics and our respective country’s. He spent 6 months in the US while working as a correspondent and is quite knowledgeable about our politics. Once the wine is finished and have a waiter take our photo we bid each other good night. As I wash up to get ready to sleep, having had our turn down service while at dinner, I wonder how well I will sleep. The gentle jostles of the daytime ride now feel like lurches and caroms. The bed is little more than a twin. I’m used to a queen size. Will I be able to sleep, in spite of the half bottle of wine? Will I stay in bed? I keep a sleeping pill within arm’s reach, just in case. Even if I get pitched out of bed I will still sleep soundly. https://www.dropbox.com/sh/4mglsdzaso3u2mq/W71q3FmI5p

Day 11, May 27, 2013: I wake up to another deluge. They get serious rain here. It is over by 8:00am, but it looks to be another overcast day. No Table Mountain for me on this trip. I decide to forego the Blue Bus and jump on the Red Bus. Both double-decker buses are similar to the Grey Line buses we have in major cities of the USA. You buy a 1 or 2 day pass and get on or off at various drop-off points in the area. The Blue runs to the environs of Cape Town. I had already seen the peninsula and the wine country, so I go with the Red that runs from the waterfront through the city center to Table Mountain and then down to the west coast back to our starting point. My plans to hop off to visit some of the museums are thwarted by the odd times of operation. One word of advice to anyone coming to visit this country; do your research regarding what you wish to visit and verify its days/times of operation. It seems like most tourist sites have different opening or closing times or days that they are closed. Since every museum I had planned to visit in the afternoon is closed or will be soon, I stay on the bus for another go round, this time on top, to get some better photos. I’m forgetting that my Irish skin can get cooked even when it’s overcast. I throw some sunscreen on when I feel my head heating up. It was a little too late. When I get back to the hotel I see that I have a little red all over my head and face. Even though it was too cloudy to go to the top of Table Mountain, it was still a great view of the city from the drop-off point at the visitor's center. You get a great up-close view of Lion’s Head as well. Back down the twisting-turning road to continue on north through the west coast towns of Camps Bay, Bantry Bay and others. We can just get a glimpse of Robben Island. Another destination I didn’t have time to see. After passing the oldest light house in South Africa, we arrive at the waterfront. I search for another restaurant for my last dinner in Cape Town. As I’m searching I see my waiter from the Harbour House restaurant sharing chicken with a friend at KFC!? I’m left wondering if the restaurant charges the staff too much for their meals or was his pronouncements to me and other diners regarding his food/wine expertise a bit over-stated? By-passing the Harbour House, I go with Tasca, a Portuguese restaurant. I want to make the most of this meal, so I order a cataplana. Essentially it is a mélange of seafood in a tomato based sauce with vegetables and spices; served with rice. It’s similar to a French bouillabaisse, but rather than a broth it has a thicker sauce that’s more like a gravy. I pair it was a Portuguese sangria. Among the vegetables and big chucks of lemon are a crayfish, prawns, kingklip, mussels and squid. The mussels in this country are the biggest I have ever seen. They are the size of oysters. I have four of those. I devour the crayfish. I love this shellfish. The rest of the seafood to gone in turn quickly; especially the squid. I get big pieces of that seafood in this dish. Time is approaching for the hotel shuttle and I reluctantly push away from the table. I meet my friends from Atlanta again. They have enjoyed their stay so much they are ready to move here. This is their last night as they fly home (non-stop!) to Atlanta. I get packed to be ready to check-out in the morning and get to the train station for the last part of my trip. https://www.dropbox.com/sh/m713g4vklljhzfv/i_bk0fxRoC

Day 10, May 26, 2013: My good weather luck has run out. I wake up to a downpour. I hear the waves of rain being blown on the roof. I roll over and let it lull me back to sleep, knowing I won’t be too adventurous today. After waiting out the worst, I take the hotel shuttle to the Castle of Good Hope. This was the first Dutch fort in the southern continent; since rebuilt and modified over time by the Dutch and, later, by the British. There’s lots of history on display from time of the indigenous people called the Khoi up to present time. I get some interesting photos before taking a taxi to see the waterfront in daylight. I also get in trouble for taking a photo of the ceremonial dining room of the Governor’s House. I was a bit over-whelmed by its size when I entered it. It’s about half the length of a football field and is quite a change after viewing the other smaller rooms. I was so over-whelmed I miss the sign forbidding cameras. In no time, a security man is calling out to me. I get off with a reprimand and verification I delete the photo. It’s very nice as I leave when I offer another apology. I walk the length of the waterfront and visit a complex of shops that host independent artisans and food vendors. I really am not a shopper and I am definitely not a haggler. Many of the shops have no prices. The vendors promise to give me a very good price. Maybe they will, but I prefer a price tag on the thing. If it seems fair, I will pay it; if not, I will move on. I move on. I go to the food vendors where I sample some more biltong. The South African version of jerky is moister. I am given samples of beef, impala and kudu. I buy a small bag of the latter. None is vacuum packed, so I will have to eat it all here. I wander over to a restaurant for dinner. I have a local fish in season now. It’s called snoek, a predatory fish that follows the migration of the pilchards. It’s oily like mackerel and very bony, but it’s good. It’s served with another local side of putu (a corn mash that has the consistency of fine couscous) and chakalaka (a mix of beans, tomato sauce, carrots, cabbage and spices). I skip the wine for a South African standard, Castle Beer. The first goes down like water after all the walking I do. I can see the mist coming in as I eat my meal. I high-tail it to the shuttle for the ride back to the hotel and another good night’s sleep. I meet a couple from Houston. We share thoughts and ideas on what we have done and what’s left to do. The photos of this day are at: https://www.dropbox.com/sh/xaov22qn8ymovjy/zSVg8WhXUU

Day 9, May 25, 2013: It’s been a bit hectic getting up early to catch my tours and getting home feeling all done in. I’ve been foregoing my blog to get some rest. Today is a grey day; the first of the trip. I took some photos of the view from my room. It’s like San Francisco, the clouds and fog roll in so fast. My plans for going up to Table Mountain are canned. I decide to lie about for a bit in the morning before heading out to Biscuit Mill. Our safari driver, Pieter, had recommended going to this place to find bread made by two brothers; whose mill we passed on the way back to Cape Town. After the ten minute walk from my hotel; I don’t find the brothers or their bread, but I do find a huge complex of shops, food shops and vendors of all types. It’s an old factory converted to a complex with a food market called Neighbour Goods Market. I buy a chicken pie, a milk tart (a custard) and a locally roasted coffee for my lunch. I find a spot in the communal eating area and enjoy my little feast. I thought this was would be a good time to explore due to the cool and grey weather; however, I was wrong. The place is packed and getting more so as the morning gives way to the afternoon. Not being a shopper by nature, after I have eaten I make a quick purchase of some local tuna biltong (jerky) and chocolate before running away from the throng. I spend the rest of the afternoon catching up on this blog and organizing photos. I keep an eye out the window, hoping and wishing that the sky will clear. I wait and wait. Maybe tomorrow I will make the trip to Table Mountain. I return to the waterfront for a meal. After perusing all the menus, of which there are many, I decide on a place Called Harbour House. They have a price fixe menu with or without dessert. I have a fish soup (made up if fish, mussels and squid) and a main course of kabeljou, otherwise known as kob. It’s a pretty common fish here. This was served on a mound of mashed potatoes, green beans, some kind of greens and topped with a poached egg. Around it was salsa verde and mayonnaise. I have a local white wine along with it. Afterwards, I stop by another shop for a gelato to finish up my meal along the piers. Then back home to nod off in short order. The link for the photos: https://www.dropbox.com/sh/ytx2ggasor5puyd/-V3ktnTGhg

Day 8, May 24, 2013: Up early again to head off for the winelands to the Northeast. Marlene fetches me first (I’m seeing a pattern due to my location) and we pick up several others from South Africa, Norway and a Chinese family now living in Boston. We were a full van for this tour. We visited 4 vineyards (Zevenwacht in Stellenbosch, DuToitskloof and Rickety Bridge in Franschoek and Laborie in Paarl) and had four tastings at each of the first three; five tastings at the final visit. Interspersed were cheese tastings and I also split a bottle of a local varietal called Pinotage with a South African couple. With that wine I had for my lunch bobotie (be-BOT-ee); a Malaysian influenced dish of beans, cheese and spices. It wasn’t too spicy and tasted great. The wine was terrific. I’m told they are trying to grow it in Sonoma. I hope they succeed. The day was another beautiful one with perfect weather, but all the wine took its toll. We were much quieter on the ride home and I didn’t have the energy to do anything after I got back to the hotel. I ordered an appetizer and a dessert for my dinner and then called it a night. I slept like a baby. Photos from this day are posted here: https://www.dropbox.com/sh/df38aa718udeqr0/ocu9W3E5-N

Day 7, May 23, 2013: This is the day for a “Ring of Kerry” type of tour. We drive down the west coast to the Cape of Good Hope and Cape Point and back up the east coast of the peninsula along False Bay. The first two tourists to be picked after me (I’m first again for the shotgun seat) are Leonardo, an Italian living and working in Brussels and Oliver, a German student. We are all traveling alone and will eventually pal-up to share some company and take photos of each other. Fred, our guide (from Germany originally) provides a good tour. It was a great day for this outing. There were some spectacular views. As with the safari, there were too many photos to post on this page. I have posted the photos from this day here: https://www.dropbox.com/sh/etd3xubrfib18t1/_EZ_yUXZ96 Highlights were the cape and its views. My younger companions hike it to the top. I choose to take the trolley, called a funicular, that goes to the top and then hike down with them to our lunch destination at the bottom. The restaurant, Two Oceans, was fantastic. My shellfish dish which you will see at DropBox was a crayfish. Not to be confused with our crawfish. This guy is huge in comparison and just as delicious. It has a very sweet meat. It was served with calamari, that were thick and succulent. The penguin colony we saw on our way back was fun. We saw some mongooses there as well. The last stop was at the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens. We barely saw a fraction of it before our time was up. Other tourists had dinner plans and we couldn’t tarry. This place must be quite a sight in the spring and summer. Fred dropped me off a the waterfront where I was going to have dinner at a place he recommended, Der Anker, a Belgian restaurant. After bidding farewell to my peninsula partners, I headed off for a dinner of tiger prawns and a good Belgian beer (two actually) followed by a waffle for dessert. On the way to catch the hotel shuttle I passed a group of African singers. I bought one of their CDs. After listening to it, I’ll try to find them again to get their other one. Finally home to rest up for the winelands tour tomorrow.