Ultra

This morning Hout Bay was awash with ultra-marathon runners descending from Chapman’s Peak. The town was somewhat paralysed by road closures to accommodate the runners so I sipped on a latte whilst waiting for a bus on the one remaining route out. A Zimbabwean family recently arrived in Hout Bay was also waiting, and we got chatting about their experiences of renting an apartment. It’s obvious from walking around Cape Town that spatial apartheid is alive and well, without hearing his story. In the very white centre of Hout Bay he was refused a lease based on the block owner’s suspicion that he wouldn’t be able to keep up monthly payments. As soon as the manager from the nearby hotel at which the Zimbabwean guy is working got involved and verified his status, the lease was magically granted.

After getting the bus I was in an Uber with another Zimbabwean driver who had worked in a hotel in Bath for two years. He dropped me in Muizenberg in the southern suburbs as I aimed to attempt an ‘ultra walk’ of my own, which turned out to be a 15 kilometre coastal schlep in flip flops (which I would not recommend based on ensuing soreness).

My goal was to stomp from Muizenberg around the shoreline of False Bay to the area south of Simonstown famous for its colony of African penguins. This route took me through the seaside suburb of St James with its Victorian architecture, kooky Kalk Bay with fat pigeons lingering outside the bakery and huge seals hauled out at the harbour, the bleaker town of Fish Hoek, various sweeping headlands and pummelling winds, and finally the naval base at Simonstown.

Close to sunset I made it to Boulders Beach and encountered the penguins toddling along the streets and paths, and even an adult and baby dassie warming themselves on rocks in the last sun of the day. I watched the glorious sunset and when I was practically the last person remaining at Boulders I encountered another Zimbabwean in the car park, trying to sell me a painting. This character had spent time in Mozambique both involved in mining and in Zimbabwe’s military. He drove me back to Muizenberg in his truck, noting that he hates being assumed poor and homeless when he sells artwork to tourists in the car park. He said Brits are the least likely to part with their cash, and Americans the most likely to overpay for something.

Before heading back to Hout Bay I had a chicken schnitzel and later a chocolate rabbit, as a nod to Easter.