Part 2: Loondun

Even though I've left the Motherland, my journey still isn't over-  

I arrived at Heathrow early Tuesday morning, after a red-eye flight from Joburg.  There was only 1 hitch in my journey, I lost my printed itinerary of my flights that I had packed to show the immigration officials once I arrived in the UK.  Well, I didn't exactly lose it.  I threw it away.  What happened was that I was browsing the shops at the Joburg airport, and thought that I should take advantage of these 2 extra hours from my delayed flight, and moisturize.  Airplanes are ALWAYS dehydrating, right?  So I tried a sample hand cream, which turned out to be hand soap.  Oops.  Then I had a handful of soap in my hand, and so secretly wiped it off on the nearest scrap of paper in my backpack.  That's right, my itinerary.  And then I threw it away, not even realizing.  I know, not the smartest thing I've ever done.  But the beauty of it was that it didn't even register that I had thrown away my itinerary until I was about to board the plane, at which time I rushed back into the bathroom and tried to dig through the trash, unsuccessfully of course.  

So when I got to immigration, the guy was questioning me about what I was planning to do in the UK, etc etc, and he asked for my return itinerary.  "Uuumm I accidentally threw it away" was my response.  I got a long look after that one, and I don't blame him, if I were him I would have been suspicious of me also.  And this particular guy was taking his job pretty seriously, he really did remind me of Ann Robinson, the host of "Weakest Link".  He had that whole slow drawl + poker face going on.  So then, desperately grabbing at straws, I told him I could tell him my confirmation number for the flight, RHPTXS.  He looks up, "You memorized it, DID you?"  I didn't know memorizing things was a crime, but apparently it made me look even more sketchy.  Anyway, after he asked me about 10 more questions, like what my uncle does, what I studied, where I studied, if we have any plans, etc, and then finally he was satisfied and let me through.  So despite my stupidity, I eventually made it through, and met David, my uncle John's partner, on the other side.    

I'm going to be in London for 2 months, staying with my uncle in a borough (aka suburb) of London called Chiswick.  It's pronounced "Chisick", apparently there's such thing as a silent W here in the UK.  And people say Americans don't speak real English!  Chiswick is a very cute little town, with a nice High Street (aka Main Street) with lots of little shops and restaurants.  Both Gordon Ramsey AND Jamie Oliver have restaurants here, which in my book says a lot about a place.  The neighborhoods here look a lot like a mix between Harry Potter and Georgetown, this is John's street:

The cherry trees are all blooming and snowing petals, so it really is a sight to behold.  

Right outside the closest Chiswick tube station 

On Thursday I took the tube into central London, and went to Buckingham Palace to see the changing of the guards ceremony, which at this time of year happens every second day at 11 AM.  It was chaos, with hundreds of tourists elbowing each other for a prized view of the gate.  

There were tourists from all over, but especially other European countries.  There was even an intense Italian in front of me who hand-rolled a cigarette while we were waiting for the ceremony to start.  Those Europeans.  Once it finally started it was pretty cool, the guards lined up in formation, and then a marching band came up through the gate, and then the old guards were replaced with the new.  Or at least that's what I'm guessing, because I really couldn't see much.  I got sick of the smoking Italian and so left about 10 minutes in, but then ended up running into the new group of guards on my way out:

   

I then continued on through St. James Park, and Hyde Park, which are astoundingly huge, and covered with blooming flowers.  The cherry trees remind me of spring in Ripon, with blankets of almond blossoms.    

Springtime snow

After I spent a few hours walking around the parks, I may or may not have gone to Oxford Street, the notoriously commercial part of London.  But if it makes my dad feel any better, I spent most of my time in Primark, which is about the same price point as a Walmart.  Primark was even more chaotic than Buckingham palace though, and absolutely filled with Russians.  The only explanation I could think of for that was there must have been a tour bus-full of them dropped off together.  Either that, or Eastern Europeans really like Primark.

On Friday I took the tube into Richmond, a nearby "borough", about 3 tube stops from Chiswick.  I had a cup of coffee at Starbucks (oh, familiarity) and walked along the Thames for a while.  I even earned 5 pounds, probably the only money I'll actually earn the whole trip, because I participated in a market research survey about household cleaning products.  Not that I know a whole lot about British cleaning brands, but hey, it was 5 pounds!  These people that worked for a research group were trying to get volunteers on the street, and since I'm a sucker for not ignoring people, I listened to what they had to say.  After "promising" it would only be 15 minutes, I agreed, and so went into the office to do the study.  It ended up being pretty interesting, they tracked my eye movements when looking at a grocery store shelf, asked my opinion about packaging, and did a survey on which products I buy.  Which was kind of stressful, since I haven't actually ever bought British cleaning products, and didn't recognize any of the brands except for Dettol!  But anyway, 30 minutes later I emerged 5 pounds richer.  Although random, I see it as another interesting experience to put down in the books!  

          

Wedding Bells

Not mine, don't worry!

My cousin Caron got married this past Saturday, March 25, and it was the perfect ending to my more than memorable 5 months in South Africa.  Legendary 5 months.  I'm talking "should-go-down-in-the-record-books" status here.  And it meant so much to spend my last night in Cape Town celebrating Caron's marriage with (nearly) my whole family, I'm so happy that my dad and I were there to be a part of everything.

Saturday was the culmination of about 9 months of hard work on the part of my aunt Beth and Caron, and everything turned out beautifully.  It was such a family wedding, everyone had a part.  Beth's sister Catherine baked the wedding cake,

my uncle John and aunt Lindsay did the flower arrangements,

Beth sewed the wedding dress AND the 2 bridesmaids' dresses,

                                    My cousins: James, Caron, and Ally (one of the bridesmaids)

AND all the decorations were hand-made by a variety of people.  I helped with bits and pieces, like sewing the lavender heart sachets for the guests' gifts, writing out table placements, cooking, helping decorate the wedding cake,

and helping to set up on the morning of the wedding.  Kind of like a manic jack of all trades, I suppose.  Things did get a little crazy when we had 40 family members over for a braai the night before the wedding, but it was all worth it!

Even my little cousins Tom and Fletcher had a job:

Best of all, I loved spending time with my uncles at the wedding (all 5 brothers reunited), I was surprised at how well the Lowes cleaned up.  My dad even wore a tie, and I swear it wasn't because I made him!  I didn't even know what he was wearing until I met up with him at the wedding.

    Look at that!  A tie.  So proud.

                                   My uncle Paul, father of the bride, and his Saartjie (that's me)

               Simon, me, and John.  That's 4/5!  Sadly I didn't get the chance for a photo with Patrick.

But it was a great night, and it made my millions of goodbyes the next day the hardest of my life.  I'm going to miss all of my family so much, they feel like parents and siblings rather than aunts, uncles, and cousins.  I've never been surrounded by so much family for such an extended time in my life, and now I understand why people tend to gravitate towards their hometown, where their families are.  It's like a catch 22: the more you time you spend with far-away family the more you connect with them; but the more you connect with them, the harder it is to exist far away.  I'm willing to handle the sadness, though, because I wouldn't trade the relationships we've created for anything.  To say that I want to go back to South Africa again as soon as possible is a massive understatement, and I really hope it happens in the next few years!

On top of missing my family, I'm also really going to miss South Africa, the country.  Yes, I will dream about rusks, homemade muesli, biltong, fish braai's, and fresh papaya, because I'm always thinking about my stomach.  But even more so I'm going to miss the indescribably beautiful landscapes, and the laid-back, yet proud, people.  Look at these sights that I've seen, and tell me it's not the most beautiful place you can imagine:

        

 I'm going to miss it.

  

Out 'n About

Hello again!  I'm sorry it's been so long since my last post (I know everybody's probably been on tenterhooks, checking the website religiously, right?), but it's definitely due more to a combination of being busy and lazy than a lack of news, that's for sure.  I spent the last 3 weeks in Durban, and had a really good balance of seeing the touristy sights, and spending quality time with family.  Even though every time I visit the land of the Zulu it seems to rain nearly non-stop, I still ended up keeping really busy, now that I think back on it.  Of course, in addition to my ritual grocery shopping, cooking, and TLC-watching, that is.  I've unfortunately discovered the plethora of American shows on the South African DSTV networks, and am disturbingly caught-up on rubbish like what caused the gradual breakup of Kim Kardashian's marriage, and the latest cruise-themed episode of What Not to Wear.  But I partially blame that on living in a household where everyone else is in bed by 8:30 PM.  Anyway, I got a little off-topic there.  I probably shouldn't be broadcasting my trashy TV tastes anyway.  Here's what I've been up to!

1.  Went away for a luxurious girls-only weekend

A few weekends ago, Sally Ann and I went away to Clarens, a small town in the Eastern Free State, for a long weekend.  Which involved gorgeous views, lots of quaint window-shopping, and plenty of coffee and cocktail-drinking.  And a 10K.  Random, right?  There just happened to be a marathon there on the Saturday, by the intimidating name of the "Surrender Hill Marathon", and so I figured, hey, I'm here anyway, I might as well run the 10K.  It actually wasn't too bad, and the views were beautiful, minus the 2K or so we spent running through the local township.  And I have to say I nearly did surrender to the last and most brutal hill, when I passed a restaurant that was practically blasting the aroma of bacon and eggs down the street, but thankfully managed to hold onto the contents of my stomach.  They really should outlaw the cooking of greasy breakfasts alongside race routes, or at least mandate a closed-door policy or something.  But anyway, it was a lovely weekend and so nice to get out of the city for a while!

the view along the drive

Us, on the balcony of our B&B, after the run.  Looking extremely happy...

2.  Went up the Moses Mabhida World Cup soccer stadium to survey the land (and sea).  It really is a pity they rarely use the soccer stadium any more, except for tourists and bungee-jumpers.  

the view from the top

3.  Sewed like a maniac.  I won't bore you with a photo of my amateur sewing, but I probably spent a combined 25 hours in about 3 days glued to my grandma's sewing machine.  I knew my focus stamina that I developed over 4 years of midterms and finals would come in handy sometime!  I even went to my grandma's weekly sewing lesson with her, because I needed advice on how to alter the dress I bought to wear to my cousin's wedding.  The sewing class not only provided me with valuable sewing input, but was also a fascinating experience, thanks to my grandma's sewing buddies.  I didn't even mind listening to Molly Ann spend 10 minutes telling me how I should rather go to medical school, because of the entertainment factor of the rest of her conversations. 

4.  Spent 5 days at Hluhluwe Umfolozi, spotting animals and navigating potholes.  It was just my grandpa and I, but despite only having 2 pairs of eyes in the car we managed to see quite a lot of game during our time there.  

   Mrs. Elephant taking a bath.  She was the only one we saw, which was 

fine with me, since I'm terrified of elephants.  

2 male lions, having a very dignified and stuck-up nap under a tree.  A very lucky sighting!

The funniest thing- 2 teenage giraffes kept trying to knock the other one 

off-balance by shoving each other with their hips.  This must have gone on for 

hours, because when we drove past again a while later, they were still at it.

Other than driving around in the car, I spent my afternoons reading Nelson Mandela's autobiography and doing crossword puzzles, which was good, because I'm sure both activities were FAR better for my brain than watching "I'm Obsessed with my Pet" or something similar on TV.  (Although the pet show was really fascinating, one lady threw 1 of her 11 cats a birthday party with balloons and the cat version of marijuana.)  But I really do recommend "A Long Walk to Freedom" to anybody that hasn't read it, it's very interesting and inspirational.  It must have really made an impression on me because after I finished the book, I had a dream that I was running some weird type of marathon up in the sky with Mandela.  

On two of the evenings, my grandpa and I even had mini braai's, to cook some lamb chops for ourselves, to carry on the family tradition of game reserve braaing.  In my opinion, food always tastes better when you're in the bush.  

And that brings me to Cape Town!  I arrived here on Saturday, as did my Dad.  It's been so nice to see him, but it almost feels surreal because it's like a collision of my two worlds.  Kind of like when you see a coworker at the grocery store, or something like that.  But I think I'll have to write a separate blog about his visit, because I probably already have enough material for at least 2 posts after only 3 days.  When the Lowe brothers are around, there's always pleeenty of material to get inspiration from, let me tell you.

Adios :)  

   

  

 

Marg the Patriot?

Last night, we had a family conversation-turned-debate about the faults of America.  Since I'm the only American around, I always dread these conversations, mostly because I'm incredibly outnumbered and no matter what I say, inevitably the conversation ends with somebody imitating an American accent to prove a point, everybody laughing, and me giving up.  This particular conversation left me wondering...am I secretly a patriotic American, without even knowing it?

As any of you Americans who have traveled abroad can probably attest, the US has a less than perfect image to the rest of the world.  I've come across plenty of people who have the idea that Americans are loud, obnoxious, self-centered, obese, poorly-mannered, oh, and don't forget stupid.  The unflattering list goes on and on!  One time someone told me that I didn't seem like a typical American, which was intended as a compliment.  I will say that the flocks of khaki-wearing tourists around South Africa with projectile voices don't exactly work in our favor, but not ALL tourists can possibly fit the stereotypes that foreigners have of us.  And when it comes to arguing back, I don't know if anyone of you have tried to change the mind of foreigners that are skeptical of America, but I'm telling you, it's next to impossible!  It doesn't matter what you say, you get virtually nowhere.  It's kind of like trying to convince a republican from Texas to turn into a democrat AND start eating tofu.  I still love South Africa regardless of the corruption, or what the crime rate is.  Shouldn't other people give America a fair chance, regardless of our flaws, as well? 

But anyway, when it's all said and done, I think I actually have a lot more affection for America than I ever realized before, thanks to these very debates (uh, conversations) that I so hate to come across.  Before, I never considered myself very patriotic, and maybe was even overly-critical of America.  But now, when somebody takes a jab at Americans, or makes an unflattering generalization, I'm always surprised at how much it bothers me.  And unless the offender is someone that I shouldn't argue with (aka keeping quiet is for the best), I always add my two cents to the conversation in an effort to maintain at least a little bit of dignity.  I definitely think that my patriotism levels have increased since leaving the states, tipping the scales a bit more towards the American side, than the South African side.  Or maybe it was always there, just buried deep, deep, deep down!       
On a lighter note, here are some photos of what I've been up to lately:


Going up Table Mountain at sunset:

   My aunt Beth, cousin Alison, and I, looking rather angelic

Last weekend went to my family's vacation house in Still Bay with everyone: 

My uncle Paul and I, in the kitchen, while I was making my Valentine-themed appetizers

Beth and I in our Valentine's pink

Went out on the town in Cape Town:

This is the most interesting burger I've had in a while: an ostrich burger 

with caramelized onions, blue cheese, avocado, and biltong dust,

"guido style" (a lettuce wrap rather than the bun hahaha).  Delicious!

Today is my last day in Kommetjie, tomorrow I'm off to Durban for 3 weeks to see the fam bam over there.  Sad to leave, but luckily, it's not a real goodbye!  I'll be back at the end of March for my cousin's wedding. 

Oh, and one last thing, I have to tell you about a hilariously inappropriate encounter I had with an old man (yes, another one...what can I say?)  Not for my own sake, because it's pretty embarrassing, but because I know that it'll probably make my friends' days when they read this (ahem..Alex) and I'm just selfless like that.  Two days ago my aunt and I were walking out of Boulders, a beach that people go to see wild penguins, and we came across my grandma's old neighbor and another elderly couple that was staying with her.  Just for a bit of background, I stayed with this particular neighbor for a few days on my last visit, because my grandma's place was full to the brim.  Here's the general gist of the conversation:

Old neighbor: "Ooh hello!  These are my friends that are here from Scotland until Friday.  Sarah stayed with me last time when she was out visiting her gran.  Actually, she stayed in your room!" (to the old man)

Old Scottish man: (to me) "You slept in my bed!"  Weird grin.

Me: halfhearted "ha.ha".  Errr...not.

(conversation went on for a bit)

Old neighbor: "Well, we'd best be going, but Sarah, know that you always have a bed at my house!"

Old Scottish man's wife: "Well, that is, after Friday." 

Old Scottish man: "Speak for yourself!!!" Another grin. 

Ooooh...cringe....It's funny that during my time here, the oldies are turning out to be way more of a threat than the young'uns!  But anyway, I'll leave you with that awkward, inappropriate feeling as you go about your day.

Until next time!  

         

    

The New Old Sarah

Sooo...I've been thinking.  For y'all that I haven't seen in like forever, you're probably wondering if I'm the same person that I was when I left home back in October.  You know, since I've been encountering shongalolos and sketchy police stations, running 10ks, speaking Afrikaans, and driving on the wrong side of the road.  All things that I would have obviously avoided doing in America.

The answer is, I don't know!  It's hard for me to tell, since I'm still myself to myself, if you know what I mean.  But I have noticed a few small differences in my tastes and ideas, which are either a result of my more mature age (I'm 22 + 5 months, instead of 22 + 1 month) or my travels thus far.  Let's see if the new Marg or the old Marg wins out...

NEW
I now drink coffee.  Ironic, right?  Finally in the Motherland where drinking copious amounts of tea is socially acceptable, and I suddenly starting liking coffee for the first time in my life.

I don't have a sock, shorts, or sleeve tan, and it's the middle of summer.  Woo hoo!  First time EVER.  I'm not exaggerating.

I bake rusks 50x more often than chocolate chip cookies.

I'm more up to date with the ANC's latest drama than what's happening on Keeping Up With the Kardashians.  (The ANC is SA's current ruling political party)

I never know what the date is.

I think about my future once every few days rather than 50 times a day, and stopped paying attention to my grad school applications about 2 months ago.  If Johns Hopkins posted that everyone was getting a BMW and a free education, I probably wouldn't have noticed.

My reading material mostly consists of James Patterson/John Grisham-type books.

I kill mosquitos with my bare hands.  Practice makes perfect!

My hair has gotten so long it keeps getting caught under my arm when I turn around.  If that makes sense.

My wardrobe consists of 10 outfits.  None of which include wearing khaki shorts, a polo, and running shoes together.  Which is definitely for the better.

My idea of a late night is 11 pm.

The air is so moist here by the ocean, I've given up with keeping my hair in line and last week decided to take the dreadlocks route.

I write a blog about myself.  My life was never interesting enough before.


OLD
I still go to the grocery store almost every day.  I can't help it.  Grocery stores, no matter what country I'm in, have some sort of magnetic pull that I unconsciously can't resist.

I'm as incapable of running in South Africa as I was in America.  My calves don't prefer the Motherland, apparently.

Country music remains unchallenged as my favorite, and I still remember all the words to my Dixie Chicks songs.

I still check uclabruins.com and latimes.com almost every day to stay up to date on the latest athletics news.  Go Bruins!

I still don't like mushrooms, olives, or raw tomatoes.

I'm still incapable of making decisions.  Traveling around by myself and living a semi-adult life has done nothing to change that unfortunately.  Should make the next few months veeery interesting.

I'm still terrified of sharks.  Swimming in what is probably close proximity to them has done nothing to dampen this exaggerated fear.  Every time I'm diving under a wave, the image of a shark biting my head off flashes briefly through my head.

I still spend about 30% of my time in the kitchen: either cooking, loitering, or eating.


So that's all I got.  I mean, there obviously many other things that are still the same, like my shoe size, favorite color, and sausage fingers, for example.  But I'm omitting that stuff for brevity's sake.  Let's see, I suppose it's about even, but maybe I thought of a few more new things than old.  That's good though, that's the goal of a trip like this, right?  But anyway, I'd say it's safe to say that you'd recognize me when you next saw me.  I haven't completely morphed into one of those perpetual travelers who after being away for a long time ends up with a permanently pensive, all-knowing gaze, wear only earth-toned clothing, and are able to fit all of their clothes and souvenirs in 1 bag.  That last one will definitely not be me, that's for sure.  But this is an analysis coming from myself, which is probably not the most accurate method of going about things.  I guess you'll just have to wait a few more months to see!

I was kidding about the dreadlocks by the way.  That is one thing that would NEVER happen in a billion million years, and if you thought I was serious...then I dunno.  We probably need to chat more.

Till next time!
Totsiens

       

The Great African Camping Trip

On Thursday, my cousin James and I embarked on a 3-day, 2,000 km (or at least, very far) road trip up the West Coast.  I've never actually been west of Cape Town before, so it was amazing for me to see a new and beautiful part of the country, rough it just a little, and spend some quality time with my cousin.  I was lucky enough to get the authentic "African" experience over the course of the trip, which I now know must include: 10 parts gorgeous scenery, 2 parts dirt roads, 3 parts unbelievable people-watching, 5 parts history, and of course 1 part sketchiness.  Can't forget the sketchiness, it's the best part!

Day 1: We started off the trip with a tone of sophistication, by having coffee in the French-styled town of Franschhoek.  The scenery is breathtaking, with the mountains in the background and vineyards tucked away everywhere.  And although the old buildings make you feel like you've gone back 100 years, it is a little bit too touristy for my taste.  What makes me think this?  The leather goods, "African craft", and diamond jewelry shops that are sprinkled too generously along the main street- clearly trying to trap tourists into paying more than double for a beaded rhinoceros that you could probably buy on the side of the road for R10.  But anyhow, with the fancy coffee sustaining us, we began our journey into the wilderness.        

Me standing in front of a beautiful old building, with the mountains in the background.

Well, not quite the wilderness.  James and I knew that the Australian Open men's semifinal match, between Federer and Nadal, was taking place that morning, which we obviously couldn't miss because it's EPIC.  So with a wary eye on the clock, we stopped at nearly every sports bar or restaurant in the small farming towns that we drove through between Franschhoek and Ceres, hoping to find one that was a) open at 11 am, b) had a TV, and c) didn't run the risk of James' surfboards being stolen off the roof of the bakkie while our eyeballs were glued to the screen.  We ended up stopping at the "Calabash Bush Pub" which was literally in the middle of nowhere, and watched the first 2 sets or so, and then finished watching the match at a sports-type restaurant in Ceres.  Once we could put our minds to rest that yes, Federer had lost, we continued on with our search for a campsite to stay at for the night.

From Ceres we headed into the Cederberg area, which in my opinion has the most breathtaking scenery of the whole trip.  It's a very dry, hot, desert, with huge mountains and rock formations as far as the eye can see.  We found an amazing campsite, which was basically in the backyard of someone's farm.  We had the whole place to ourselves, complete with a swimming pool, huge grassy areas, nice bathrooms, and even 2 personal collie watchdogs.  So, I guess at that stage we weren't exactly "roughing it", but hey, we were camping!  So you've got to give us a little credit for that at least.            

James and I sitting in front of our braai after a swim.

James about to enjoy our dinner of boerevors, pork rashers, potatoes, butternut, and salad.  James accidentally dropped the meat on the ground (twice) but once the grass was dusted off it was delicious. 

Day 2:  The next day we continued our bumpy dirt-road drive through Cederberg, and stopped at the Stadsaal Caves to see the famous bushmen paintings.  The paintings are amazingly well-preserved after so many years, and you can clearly see the figures, complete with spears and generous bums.  

James, the San Bushmen, and some elephants.

Me standing in the caves

From there we drove through the Cederberg wine area, which is apparently famous.  Not being a wine-drinker myself, I didn't know that, but the farm was beautiful and definitely worth stopping at for a look. When we tried to leave, the bakkie wouldn't start, and it turns out that so much bumping and rattling along the dirt roads had loosened the spark plug.  Neither of us had a clue what was going on under the hood, but luckily a farm worker did, and tightened it for us.  Crisis averted!

On a side note, I just want to mention what it's like to drive through a desert with a surfer.  The trip had an added element of scavenger hunt, with James always on the search for a body of water to swim in.  Doesn't matter whether it was a random farmer's dam, a river, or a pool, if there was some water, we had to stop to swim in it.  I have to say that it did add an element of adventure to the trip.  My typical question would be "are we even allowed to swim in here?" and the response always "who's stopping us?"

By the end of the day, to James' relief, we had made our way back to the coast, to Lambert's Bay.  A typical West Coast fishing town, not the prettiest buildings or classiest locals, but we did find this gem of a house:

We ended up finding a campsite at Elands Bay (or rather Elandsbaai) with a beautiful sea view.  After a cup of tea, we went through the typical unpacking and setting up rigamarole, and then had another braai for dinner.

  The view from our chairs just after sunset

Day 3:  Here the adventure REALLY begins.  When we woke up at 6:30 am or so, we realized the car was unlocked.  But, wait, we locked it last night, right?  We figured out that we had accidentally left the driver's window rolled all the way down, and when we locked the car, it was so dark we didn't notice.  James' bag was lying outside the car with the pockets opened, and my ipod and James' cell phone were both gone.  Ok, it was very stupid to accidentally leave the window open with my ipod still in the car, I'll readily admit that it was my fault it got stolen.  I was practically inviting someone to steal it.  But still, a little creepy considering our tent was about 3 feet away!  

So, after sitting there for about 10 minutes being depressed, we had breakfast and packed up, and were about to head out of Elandsbaai when we saw a small police station and just decided to stop, just in case they may find the stolen stuff.  So we walked in and gave a description of our items to the policewoman.  She asked us a few questions about footprints, etc, which we obviously didn't remember seeing considering our site was made from sand.  But then when we mentioned 2 men, 1 big and 1 small, came by our site the previous night asking for money, she said, "AHA! It was them.  I know exactly who you're talking about- it's Koos and Broetjie!"  The town is so small she knew exactly what shady people we were talking about.  AND they knew exactly where they were, because within 10 minutes Koos slouched into the police station! A shifty, short little man that we definitely recognized from the night before.  Within 30 seconds of questioning, he admitted to having seen the ipod and phone, but readily blamed Broetjie for the actual theft. He got shoved in the lockup, and every 5 minutes or so would shout out in Xhosa or Afrikaans to the police lady, trying to figure out if we were going to press charges or not.  She got tired of that and made him start sweeping the courtyard.  During all this, the policewoman was very chatty, telling us all about these local druggies and how they go begging just to scope out the scene- how much equipment you have, how many males are around, how much stuff is lying around the campsite.  She said they have food and a house, but they steal for drugs.  She then mentioned how her throat was hurting every time she swallowed, and she was starting to feel feverish, so James went to the car and got her some vitamin C cold and flu tablets to put in her water.  She gladly accepted, drank the tonic, and went on talking.  

During all this, Broetjie took the policemen to the spot where he had buried my ipod, and they dug it up.  20 minutes later, they all walked in, the policeman handed me my ipod, and Broetjie plopped down on the chair next to James.  So there we were: Broetjie (which means bread roll in Afrikaans by the way), James, me, sitting in a row next to each other in the  one-room police station.  There was a long and intense conversation in Afrikaans between the police and Koos and Broetjie, which I of course didn't understand, but I bet my eyes were as big as saucers.  

The best part was when Koos mumbled something about fetching the spade from outside, walked out the door of the police station, and never came back.  And the 3 policemen were still standing there! They weren't too concerned, I guess because they knew it was a matter of hours before they found him again.  Apparently he was on parole for another theft from a vehicle, and so was terrified of being locked up again that he ran away.  The cop told Broetjie "Ja, you can run, but tomorrow we'll catch you", so he didn't go anywhere.  

So I had my ipod back, but James' Nokia phone was still missing.  Unfortunately, by 11 am Broetjie had already sold it to a guy named Seun, who lived in a neighboring town.  He had exchanged the phone for a button.  Which is a pill of ecstasy.  So because the phone had already been spirited away from Elandsbaai, the hunt for Seun was on the hands of another police station.  Since it was going to be another few hours wait to find out more, James and I drove to some nearby bushmen paintings and had tea there, before we went back to the police station.  You know, just so we had a little natural history interspersed with the CSI: Elandsbaai that was playing out.  When we went back at 1 pm, they still hadn't found out anything more, so we left my cell phone number and headed out, giving up James' phone for lost.  

I'm actually not sure what's going to happen to Koos and Broetjie, but since we would have to go back to testify, we didn't end up laying charges before we left.  I'm sure they'll have at least a little bit of jail time though, which I think they deserve.  

The police station of Elandsbaai- surprisingly effective!

From there we drove south down the coast back to Cape Town, stopping in at a few fishing villages like Paternoster, and got back to Kommetjie around 5 pm.  Let me tell you, I've never been so happy to stretch my legs and have a cup of tea.  I slept amazingly well in my bed last night- that's one of the benefits of camping for sure!  

The trip was definitely one of the highlights of my time here in South Africa, and as you can see, I definitely got the genuine African experience, sketchiness included.  More than just 1 part sketchiness actually.  But I wouldn't exchange that for anything!    

        

    

Goodbye Jeffreys, it's been baie lekker!

Here are finally some photos of Jeffreys Bay!  I left on Tuesday to head back to Cape Town, and was so sad to say goodbye.  The 5 weeks I spent working in the laid-back little surf town are definitely some of the best of my trip so far.  Never mind the aching feet, hectic workdays, or 1-day weekends, I will never forget the amazing people that I got to know!  The family that I stayed with were so generous to me, and I felt very at home there.  I was even starting to understand more and more Afrikaans, given another 3 months I probably would've become a proper Afrikaans meisie.  And the little white diesel truck and I had actually become good, although rattly, friends, despite everyone at work's disbelief that I drove such a "huge" car around (if they only knew what tanks people drove in America, this one would've been tiny.)  I'm glad that I'll probably be back for a few days before I leave South Africa, final goodbyes are definitely one of my least favorite things. 

Some of the crew at InFood, standing in front of the deli counter.  

From left to right: Victoria, me, Julia, Jayne (holding Eskimo), Adolf, and Amy.

Me and the coffee guys, Percy and Charles.  It says a lot about them that I actually put this photo on the blog, seeing as in this photo my apron makes me look like I'm misshapenly pregnant.  But, however unflattering the kangaroo look is, I couldn't leave them out!  I was the only waitress who was required to wear that nuisance apron, allegedly to "model" the merchandise.  Bitterness aside, I'm going to miss those guys! 

Me and Leo, my J Bay boyfriend.  He and I went on long walks on the beach, played catch, and canoodled on the rug.  We had a few fights, mostly over him leaving white hairs ALL over my black work clothes, and ended up breaking up because long-distance relationships just don't work.  But he'll always have a spot in my heart.

The view from the balcony, on the morning I woke up at 5 am to drive to Cape Town.  The first (and last) sunrise I saw in J Bay, wish I had seen more!

   One of our stops on the drive through the Langkloof from Jeffreys to Cape Town.  Before you get too scandalized/excited/disapproving, this wasn't actually a sex shop.  Just a normal restaurant-bar along the road in the middle of nowhere.  Apparently Ronnie always had a semi-successful shop, named "Ronnie's Shop" but one time when he went on holiday, his friend painted the extra word as a joke.  Which turned out to be a huge favor, given that word spread and business has thrived ever since!

Ok, now I'm feeling thoroughly nostalgic!  But anyway, I'll pull myself together.  I suppose if you are sad to leave somewhere, it's an indicator of what a good experience it was.  Of which I'm sure I will have many more in the upcoming months.  Also, if I want to make myself feel better about leaving, all I need to think about is waitressing while wearing that apron, with black clothes, in 90-degree humidity, without air conditioning.  For an indecisive table of 8, outside in the garden.  There we go, slightly better already.

More news to come!