Far from Home

Don't worry, they made it back safely. You will too, if you come and visit us.

Melissa

Robben Island

A couple of months ago, our friends Amber and Jeff came to visit with their son Benedict. One of our outings was a trip to Robben Island Prison, where political prisoners were housed during apartheid.


We saw the lime quarry where the prisoners were forced to spend their days digging lime by hand. When they could, they gathered into groups, and the older prisoners taught the younger ones about South African history, economics, and the history of the freedom struggle. Partly because of this, Robben Island was sometimes called The University.


We also saw Nelson Mandela's cell and the place in the exercise yard where he buried his autobiography in order to hide it from the guards. It was found and destroyed, but the prisoners had already smuggled another copy out of the prison, so it didn't get lost.



The boat trip to and from the island was lovely, although it was very touristy. We had a great view of Table Mountain from the bay.


We also saw whales, even though they were out of season. I know readers of this blog (if I have any readers left after so many months with no posts) are fond of my fuzzy shots of whale tails, so here's another one:


Sorry about the long gap between posts. I'll try to be better. I think Andy is planning a post or two, too.

Melissa

Cricket!

We went to our first-ever cricket match.  By the end of it, we were fans.  It was the national final match, so there was a great deal of pomp:  dancing girls, guys dressed up in silly suits.  The referrees were delivered to the field in a helicopter.   They do the wave here, and they call it the Mexican wave.  

Melissa

The Obligatory Diminishing Road Shot

Porcupine Quill

They Feel Edible

To the touch, this plant feels like fruit leather.

This one feels like a red rope.

Melissa

Monkey Wars

There was an ongoing battle between people and monkeys at the Augrabies Falls campground, and the monkeys were winning.  I think this was because the monkeys wanted one thing from the people:  food.  The people, meanwhile, wanted a bunch of different things from the monkeys, often all at the same time.  

Some people (like me) wanted to take pictures of the monkeys playing on tents and cars.  

Some people wanted to chase them off.  (In between throwing sticks, these people kept shouting, "Stop pooping on my tent!")

Some people wanted to feed the monkeys.

And a few fools wanted to get them drunk.  (It didn't work.  They spilled all the wine.)

As confusing as human behavior must seem to the monkeys, it's clear that they're willing to put up with us.  They came to visit us for breakfast and dinner, whether we invited them or not. 

Melissa