Pat, a student in our program, was jogging along the Liesbeeck parkway, the highway adjacent to Liesbeeck res.

It was 1pm, broad daylight along a busy highway. As Pat ran by two men, they grabbed him and asked for his iPod and running shoes. Pat gave those up, but asked how he was to get back to the res without his shoes.

One of the muggers took off his flip flops and gave them to Pat. Talk about wealth redistribution.

Nearly every night I walked home after dark. Often around midnight. Foolhardy, I know.

Nearly every night I walked home after dark. Often around midnight. Foolhardy, I know.

(I have a functional bike now, so this really isn’t a problem anymore. Sometimes I take a taxi home–expensive–fridays, for example, are payday, so it’s a good idea to take a taxi then).

I like the feeling of adrenaline I get walking the mile from the Liesbeeck Gardens res to my homestay.

I walk out of Liesbeeck, a res that looks roughly like a prison cell. I turn right, waving at the Security Guard so that he opens the gate since my ID card doesn’t swipe.

Another right onto Durban Road. Speed walking time. I cross Liesbeeck parkway, the highway that divides the suburb of Mowbray.

Past Fat Cactus on my left, and the Greek Restaurant on my right. The two gas stations. Up the left, cross the street and left onto Raapenberg Road. Almost there. 26 Raapenberg Road.

One night I was in for a scare. Usually the streets are abandoned late. It was midnight, and out of the darkness two bakkies (pickup trucks with closed hatches) came screeching down the road, driving tandem. The first one slowed down and out the back jumped a man, poster in hand. He sprinted to a sign post across from me and then another a little further down the road.

It’s was just newspaper employees updating the newspaper signs all around the city, at midnight.

A South African odyssey. It’s a bridge next to the N2 highway about 3-4hrs east of Cape Town that goes to nowhere, from nowhere. Seriously, it on both sides there’s just grass and trees.

There’s a different highway overpass in downtown Cape Town that’s the exact same (no photo). It just ends with a 30ft drop off right in the middle of the city. There’s no construction being done on it. Absolutely bizarre. I don’t get it.

This weekend our program (CIEE) brought students to the Spier Wine Estate in Stellenbosch for a wine tasting festival with live music! (CIEE paid for it, too) An excellent, if commercial, wine estate.

We spent the afternoon there and, when all our other fellow Americans left, Tom Parmer and I went to visit and stay the night at my friends of a friend (Thank you Doug Pierce!) Katherine and Andrew at their place Stellenbosch. Katherine is an American from Higganum, my home town. She studying abroad at Stellenbosch and liked it so much she decided to graduate there, becoming the first American ever to do so. Andrew is her husband.

Stellenbosch is a great town, very European, very chic with cafes and boutiques. Everything you could ever want in a college town. Plus, it’s totally safe to walk around in at night. It’s the second oldest European settlement in South Africa after Cape Town.

Andrew works as a business manager at Zorgfliet vineyards where he helps other smaller vineyards sell their product. This means lots of free wine tasting in his job description. A nice gig, right? He gave us a free tour of the cellar and a wine tasting!!! it was unreal, especially seeing the winemaking process.

A couple odd things about South African wineries: Most are not for profit. Rather, they’re owned by wealthy businessmen who operate them as a hobby. Second, from the business manager himself: South Africa tends to export only its lowest quality wines, leaving the better wines in SA. The stuff you get in SA is quite good, and cheap.

Red and white wine use the same grapes, the only difference is that red wine retains the skin. Basically, white whine is much simpler to make. The grapes go through a series of conveyor belts and a de-stemmer. After cleaning they are mashed, the skins extracted, and sent into the metal fermentation tank for a year until ready.

This weekend our program (CIEE) brought students to the Spier Wine Estate in Stellenbosch for a wine tasting festival with live music! (CIEE paid for it, too) An excellent, if commercial, wine estate.

We spent the afternoon there and, when all our other fellow Americans left, Tom Parmer and I went to visit and stay the night at my friends of a friend (Thank you Doug Pierce!) Katherine and Andrew at their place Stellenbosch. Katherine is an American from Higganum, my home town. She studying abroad at Stellenbosch and liked it so much she decided to graduate there, becoming the first American ever to do so. Andrew is her husband.

Stellenbosch is a great town, very European, very chic with cafes and boutiques. Everything you could ever want in a college town. Plus, it’s totally safe to walk around in at night. It’s the second oldest European settlement in South Africa after Cape Town.

Andrew works as a business manager at Zorgfliet vineyards where he helps other smaller vineyards sell their product. This means lots of free wine tasting in his job description. A nice gig, right? He gave us a free tour of the cellar and a wine tasting!!! it was unreal, especially seeing the winemaking process.

A couple odd things about South African wineries: Most are not for profit. Rather, they’re owned by wealthy businessmen who operate them as a hobby. Second, from the business manager himself: South Africa tends to export only its lowest quality wines, leaving the better wines in SA. The stuff you get in SA is quite good, and cheap.

Red and white wine use the same grapes, the only difference is that red wine retains the skin. Basically, white whine is much simpler to make. The grapes go through a series of conveyor belts and a de-stemmer. After cleaning they are mashed, the skins extracted, and sent into the metal fermentation tank for a year until ready.

South Africans have a peculiar sense of time. They’ve two versions of ‘now,’ and the Cape Townies especially love lounging around not doing very much in the beautiful weather. If they say “I’ll be there ‘now now'” that means they’ll probably be there soon. If they say I’ll do it ‘just now,’ it means maybe 45 minutes, maybe tomorrow. You have to listen to their inflection. The longer and more hesitantly they say the word just, the less likely it will get done anywhere near on time.

Last week, I had a group meeting for a presentation in a politics class here at UCT. There were five of us in the group, two Germans, two Americans, and one South African.

We scheduled our group meeting at 1pm. The two Germans arrived at precisely 1pm. Us two Americans showed up at 1pm, too.

And when did the South African get there?

He didn’t even show up.

I bought a bike on Gumtree on Nelson Mandela’s birthday. It’s essentially been the bane of my existence so far.

It currently resides in my friend Matt’s room. To buy the bike, I walked 3 miles from UCT to 9 Pineland drive in Rondesbosch. Bought the bike from a british soldier for 400 rand. Bike turned out to have two flat tries which I figured I could inflate, otherwise it was in great shape. Walked another 3 miles to my homestay in Mowbray and went to two different gas stations to inflate my tires, neither of which could do so since their air pumps are designed for cars. Walked to Liesbeeck and took the Jammie to Claremont where I walked another mile to the bike shop. There I was told that not only had I overpaid but one of the tires had a puncture. 255 rand later I got a u-bar bike lock and fixed tires I rode the 3 miles back to Liesbeeck.

While taking the last tie on the u-bar package off with Matt’s knife I cut my right hand in the fleshy bit between my thumb and forefinger down to my thumb bone through my muscle. Blood started gushing out in spurts. Plup plup, plup plup. Haley quickly helped me, rose my hand above my heart, bandaged up. Was driven to a public hospital ER by Quinton. Waited for an hour or two and there was only one doctor, an off duty resident in a zip up hoodie there. So the bike cost me from 12 noon to 1030 at night, stitches and an extra 1420 rand for the hospital visit (South Africa having privatized healthcare and public hospitals requiring payment before treatment.). Stiches are out as of Sunday, courtesy of Haley. I realized I can’t shake people’s hands yet, as blood tend to come out of the wound when I do so.

Now here’s the kicker. The tire the bike shop fixed is flat, again. Back to the bike shop…

Today, I hiked from 9:30 in the morning to almost 7 at night. Intense. From UCT we took the contour path around the north side of the Table Mountain. It was Jake, Tom, Matt, Howie, Nick and I. Howie and Jake stopped at the Cable Car while the rest of us continued across kloof nek road to Lion’s Head. Wonderful trek! You can follow it on Google Maps (From 7 Durban Road, Mowbray to the UCT campus and then to lion’s peak)

We were so tired by the end that we started sticking our thumbs out the old hitchhiker way, not expecting anything until two Black South Africans going to the airport in their truck pull over (they’re on the other side of the road) so we have to cross 4 lanes of traffic) and drive us to Rondebosch. Crazy.

Hitchhiking is illegal in South Africa. That’s not to say no one does it. Like many things here, the rules are optional and frequently broken.