Back in Pretoria

Cape Town felt a lot like Seattle. And I felt fairly uncomfortable there.

It was sunny and cold most of the time, so other than for a quick look, there was little sense in heading to the beaches. The city is sort of nestled between the coast and mountains and very picturesque (no wonder it rivals Rio de Janeiro for the world's most beautiful city).

Most of my time was spent lounging about Backpackers on Castle, a hostel partially owned by some friends that is right off the trendy Long Street, or walking around the city aimlessly. Long Street is the Capital Hill (for you Seattleites) of Cape Town--every one is dressed like a hipster, there are tons of bars, clubs and hippy cafes and even used book shops and vintage clothing stores. I went a little mad in the bookshops and spent an entire day searching for some good reads to pass the time.

It was nice to be on my own again. There were no awkward, "what do you want to do now?" or "which way should we go?" It was only me. So when I got to a turn, there was no one to consult, I just went. I would walk for hours to get to some silly lighthouse way out on the tip of Cape Town only realize I didn't care at all about the lighthouse and just wanted a quiet place to read.

I wasn't a complete loner, though. There were only a few people staying at the backpackers, so it felt more like we were all living in a flat together than staying at a hostel. I would veg out on the couch with Elma or be cooking with Natsumi. One day, Stefanie, a traveling German worker, and her Zamiban boyfriend Thomas invited me to drive out to the Cape of Good Hope with them. We got a very late start as we had been out drinking the night before and had some Absinthe (uhmmmm...it is STRONG, and it makes you go crazy; no wonder it is illegal in the States!) so were hurting something fierce in the morning. I woke up still drunk, stumbled to KFC (yes, there are KFCs, McDonalds, and any other sort of greasy, nasty, heart clogging fast food joints you could want here in SA) and returned to pass out on the couch. Not so glamorous...

Needless to say, we left the hostel around 2:30 pm and proceeded to get lost for the next hour before finally getting back on track and heading to the Cape. It was already getting dark by the time we arrived at 5:30 and the park was closed. Oops. At least I can say I drove to the Cape and saw the park gates. That counts for something, right?

My last day in Cape Town it started to rain, a good sign it was time to leave. I arrived back into Joburg and was met by my Aunt Linda and Uncle Allan at the airport to return "home." Indeed, Pretoria does feel a lot like home--it is familiar and I can completely be a slob at my Aunt's house. Suddenly I don't have to worry about which hostel to stay at or how to cook dinner for one. I can sleep in late, stay in pajamas all day and watch t.v.

I'm not a complete slug; I did hit the American Embassy 4th of July party. It didn't feel at all patriotic, but my old housemate from Seattle, John Clemo, was there. He's a Peace Corps volunteer somewhere up north and has been here for several months now. I haven't seem him since Seattle, so it was such a treat to get to talk to someone who knows me. No silly small chat to break the ice!

I now will take care of some serious matters here, though. Such as why my student loan forbearance application didn't go through, how to renew my travel insurance, why I have been sick for the past month, and hitting the spa with my auntie. It's strange to have to think about these "real world" items right now after having put them off for so long (using the excuse of poor internet connection and lack of access to a telephone).