Monday 02 February 2015
We were supposed to abseil Table Mountain on Sunday, but the winds were too strong. So today was the day.
After we parked the car haphazardly on the side of the road (this is Africa), we waited in what seemed to be a bazillion person line to go up Table Mountain. Table Mountain is, apparently, now one of Nature’s Seven Wonders of the World, or so the signs everywhere told us.
We get off at the top and find our guides for Abseil Africa. They give a two minute safety schpiel and then we’re given helmets, gloves, and clipped into harnesses. We began making our way to the drop off point, and now I’m wondering what we got ourselves into. My safety belayer, G, told me it’s good I’m nervous; it means I’m alive. Yeah. Okay, G.
The guides got Nick and I clipped into the drop rope and had us stand right on the edge of the cliff, butts hanging over. Then they asked us to pose for a picture, hands in the air. Clutching my rope and harness was making me feel better, though! Begrudgingly, I lifted my hands (“higher“ says G!) and we got some awesome photos, including one of Nick and I high-fiving. If you look close, you can see the uncertainty in our smiles.
And then we’re off! I was so nervous as I bounced along the wall. I forced myself to look out, and at least see what I’m repelling around. It’s absolutely stunning. We’re a thousand meters up and it’s mountains and ocean as far as the eye can see.
About forty feet down there was a small lip that we could land on. Cheesy, the other guide and Nick’s safety belayer, informed us we’d just completed the baby section. Now it’s time for Mama Africa. Over the ledge to Mama Africa we went. Another few meters down the wall cut in rather sharply and we now found ourselves dangling off Table Mountain. Our heart rate spiked a bit then. I hadn’t realized how comforting the wall had been bouncing beneath my feet until it was gone.
Halfway through the dangling portion of our journey, I was finally able to slow my heart rate a bit and look around and actually enjoy the stunning views this country has. It’s absolutely incredible.
Fortunately, Nick documented the whole thing on GoPro. What we could have sworn up and down lasted ten minutes really only lasted three. Phew. Then it was time to hike back up. Once more, Africa showed us that her trails are not to be trifled with.
We had to use our hands to climb over parts, and the entire trail was quite steep and rocky. The view, again, was quite gorgeous. The trail is situated in a bit of a crevasse between Table Mountain and the Twelve Apostles, so our view was the ocean meeting the sky, flanked by mountains.
When we reached the top again, we collected our things from the Abseil Guides, including an official “We’ve Abseiled” certificate, got ourselves an ice cream, and headed back down the mountain via cable car. Now it’s time for the adventure of returning our already late rental car.
We had to rush back to Muizenberg first though, because I forgot my MyCiti bus pass. Then we had to get gas. When we finally arrived to the rental company, it was 4:40. They close at 5:00. Apparently we scratched the car a bit on our expedition to Jonkershoek, so we got pinged for a R200 buffing and cleaning charge. However, they didn’t make us pay the R200 for being almost three hours past our return time. We decided to call it a wash, and were quite pleased with the outcome.
We took the MyCiti bus to the Civic Center and that’s where the real fun began.
At first we thought we knew which train we needed, but then it left the station. The lines to purchase train tickets must have been fifty people deep, each line, and there were twenty five of them. We finally get up to the ticket window and ask for two tickets to Muizenberg, please.
Next train heading that direction is leaving in two minutes, so we rush to go catch our train. Now I’ve seen the train go by at Muizenberg. I’ve seen it’s faded yellow pain job covered in graffiti. I’ve seen the passengers leaning through the open doors while the train is in motion. The screeching brakes announce its arrival into the station to anyone within a mile radius. To say I was less than enthused to get on the train was an understatement.
“It’s fine during the day,” we’re told, “but don’t go on it past six.” Well, it’s now six and we’re getting on the train. We hop onto the first car, and immediately I notice how dark it is. The platform itself isn’t well lit and the train’s overhead lighting doesn’t seem to work. It’s so inky in the car I can barely make out the other end of the car we’re in. I content myself by reading the graffiti and flyers plastered over every inch of the walls.
“Safe Abortions,” the flyers read, “R300. Womb cleaning included. Whatsapp #074.123.4567.”
“Penis enlargements, love spells, spells to make a lover come back, erase debts in minutes. Call the Doctor #074.123.4567.”
Jeezus.
The train rolls out of the station and sunlight floods the car. Okay, a bit better. Everyone in the car with us seems to be working class. Nice clothes, clean, some carrying brief cases or reading books. Okay, this is okay.
We ask our neighbor if this train stops in Retreat (the station that was listed on the departure) and we need to transfer, or if it will go onto Muizenberg. We need to transfer. Retreat is the last stop this train makes, and Muizenberg is another three stops beyond it.
“Not to worry,” our neighbor says, “I usually take the next train after this and it goes all the way to Simon’s Town (past where we need to go). You won’t have to wait long.” Alright. Not so bad.
The train pulls into the Retreat Station and one of the other passengers pulls the door open for the rest of us, because none of the doors open on their own. So charming. We get off in the Retreat Station and almost immediately hear “The Simon’s Town train has been delayed. MetroRail apologizes for the inconvenience and will update you as soon as possible.”
No worries, it looks like there’s a train to Fishhoek coming as well. That’ll do just fine. Then, in her proper South African accent, “The Fishhoek train has been delayed. MetroRail apologizes for the inconvenience and will update as soon as possible.” No time updates, nothing. Just train’s delayed. Sorry not sorry!
Ten minutes go by, and the lady announcer repeats her worthless announcement what seemed like every minute on the minute. Then that blasted voice comes on again, “The train to Simon’s Town has been delayed forty five minutes. MetroRail apologizes for the inconvenience.” “The train to Fishhoek has been delayed fifty one minutes. MetroRail apologizes for the inconvenience.”
Holy. Shiz. It’s going to be dark before the train gets here. Now we’re both on high alert. Okay. Options. What are our alternatives? Uber. Uber is big here now. Oh wait, the phone is now dead. Okay, we could walk. Not sure if really that’s safer, and it’s still pretty far, but it’s an option. Or we could just wait. It’ll be fine; we’ll just wait forty five minutes until the next train. Holy crap I don’t like this.
Ten more minutes go by and a train rolls into the station. Not sure what happened to the delay or if this train escaped notice, but it’s heading the right direction and we’re getting on it! We made our way safely back to Muizenberg and were so happy and relieved we decided to go out for a celebratory beer or four. Phew. Quite the adventurous day! What doesn’t kill you, or steal your money, only makes your stronger, right? Or at least makes for a good story.
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