One of the perks associated with work in academia is the rather consistent opportunities to attend researcher conferences. In my mind, these are nothing more than glorified tourist propaganda exercises organised by the learned for their fellow peers worldwide, invariably always held in tourist magnets and close to the height of summer, which in the case of South Africa is November. And this was the venue for the 2016 fib conference, at which Dr. Micallef II was to present a research paper. After much deliberation, I finally decided to go along, only on a different (indirect) flight which however was £400 less than my wife's at £600, quite a bargain I must say, given that AirMalta flights at £300 or more are not uncommon, but that is another story.
And so the day came: all the summer clothes unearthed from hibernation and with a few trips planned and scheduled, we ventured to Cape Town, the place about which I had read since I was a very young child: the fateful tip of the world where explorers or merchants dreaded to go around due to its infamous weather. But not this time of the year, or so we hoped.
It was my first time on an Airbus A380 and I was blown away (so to speak). I am always fascinated at how a big object such as a plane can fly, but this was another level of bestiality. The Emirates experience, complete with WiFi whilst 10km up in the air and some 2500 movies to choose from and proper meals with proper cutlery, proved to be beyond my expectations for 'economy' class (what do the business class get then, I wonder?). Stopping at Dubai (again my first time in the UAE), confirmed my suspicions that this place was all about money; not quite streets paved in gold but not too far, for the airport is a continuous feast of marble and stainless steel, 120 person lifts, triple height internal waterfalls and sheer massiveness. Time passed quickly and I was on my final leg to Africa.
It was hot and sunny, right from the start. Promising. I was met by the chauffeur and after exchanging some rand, made my way to the hotel at the V&A (that is Alfred and not his father Albert) Waterfront. My first impression was positive: excellent road surfaces and signs, neat buildings (bar the few shanty towns along the highway), lively and very clean streets. It was almost hard to believe this was Africa. I noted a few highrises - obviously dwarfed by the 1085m tall Table Mountain - but these seemed old as if the city 'stopped' developing in the 1970s, but I could also note a few towercranes dotting the skyline. And obviously the relatively new 2010 World Cup stadium close to the hotel and the Waterfront itself. The city seemed buzzing with life.
I met my wife, who had arrived beforehand safe and sound, and ventured off to the V&A. It felt very much the UK, a Portsmouth or Brighton if you like, only warmer and with a very un-flat backdrop. A lunch of seafood ushered me into the Capetonian cuisine and the evening closed off with a conference reception.
On Monday morning, we made a trip to the city centre, in particular the District Six Museum and the guided tour by an ex-resident. In my ignorance of non-obvious world history, I was not aware of the full atrocity of the apartheid, such as the forced removal of people in this area of Cape Town. The most shocking aspect of this was not clearing the area for the sake of some national project or rebuilding programme, which are often met with resistance (similar to what happened in some slum areas in Malta in the past, for instance) but this was simply left undeveloped; the aim was solely getting rid of the people because of their skin colour. Another startling fact was that non-whites were only granted the right to vote in 1994, which is terribly recent. On a lighter note, the other highlight of the day was a short cruise around the harbour, where we spotted a couple of sunbathing seals!
Tuesday was another 'cultural' day, starting off with a visit to the 2010 football stadium, which design I found very appealing. The sunny morning soon became cloudy if not chilly and this was not a good sign, given we had to take a ferry to hop over to Robben Island, 10 km away (on the way, we were lucky to spot a few surfacing whales and dolphins). The tiny island hosts a maximum security prison with minuscule cells one of which hosted Nelson Mandela for 18 years, the highlight of the island really, alongside a small colony of African penguins. The day was concluded by an excellent meal: the conference banquet. In this case, a culinary feast of African dishes, including springbok and ostrich meat, naturally both 'firsts', and all washed down with excellent South Africa wine.
Wednesday was practically all devoted to the conference (my wife's presentation was great, as always) and the late afternoon spent exploring some of the Art Deco gems in the city centre. Unfortunately, in the evening some intestinal issues started to crop up, which alas lasted, more or less, for the rest of the stay...the discomfort was definitely offset by a full 1 hour body massage for us both!
Then on Thursday, with a little help from Imodium, we managed to venture out of Cape Town to the winelands of Franschhoek, or French Corner. It was like a journey back in time, where the world was still untouched by man except for the basic exploitation of natural produce, in this case the grape. The vineyards and their spectacular settings took away some of the discomfort but unfortunately could not be as adventurous in the tasting as I wished to!
By Friday, I was feeling a bit better, but poor Marianna had her turn now. Nonetheless, we set off for a peninsula tour all the way down the Atlantic coast to the Cape of Good Hope and Cape Point, via Camp and Hout Bays and the Seal Island (no need to explain its name!) and then Boulders Beach along False Bay where the highlight was certainly the big colony of African penguins. It was at first unusual to associate penguins with Africa, but who wouldn't want to stay basking away in the African sun rather than the Antarctic icy wind? A stop at the beautiful Kirstenbosch Gardens concluded the day tour.
Saturday was my last day but before leaving I could not not visit the Cape's most famous permanent resident: Table Mountain. The cable car ride, albeit 2.5 minutes short, was scary to say the least but once at the top, it was worth every second of fear. The sun was scorching hot and by early afternoon I had to stay in the shade on the hop-on-hop-off bus for my arms looked like a Maltese flag! And it was time to leave Cape Town and Africa.
The biggest resource of all that I could see in South Africa, certainly in Cape Town, was not the vast expanses of land but the people. Every single person we met, locals I mean, were extremely gentle and cordial and at the same time funny and friendly. This country, almost literally at the end of the world, proved that Africa has so much to offer and my final thought, or rhetoric question, is: why do Africans bother coming to Europe? I think we should be going there instead, for it is very much an unknown paradise and the Mother City is its gateway.
Speaking of mothers: now it is time to sleep for tomorrow is back to work and this is going to be the mother of all Mondays!
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