Breakfast this morning was quite eventful. Polina was on duty at the desk and was all smiles this morning - a distinct contrast to yesterday. We had great difficulty in getting attention for our tea/coffee and egg order. When my poached egg finally arrived I went to the buffet to add some bacon. I opened the heated container and a huge puff of steam emerged burning my hand. I was quite shocked and returned to the table to recover. The knuckles of my left hand were quite sore so I decided to complain and to suggest that somehow no one else should have that experience. They said they would send for the first aid kit. I returned again to my table and then Charlotte suggested that I run it under the tap. As I was proceeding to the bathrooms one of the staff decided to accompany me - I'm not sure what the thinking was. Anyway, 10 minutes later I returned to the table. Then the "first aid" arrived in the form of one of the receptionists and a tube of germolene. Not my understanding of a remedy for burns! Several of the staff came to the table to see what the problem was but it was clear I was very angry because it was, in fact, the last straw and I detailed the problems we had had. Apologies were offered but no real attempt to do anything worthwhile. I pointed out that, in the time it had taken to try to sort the burns out, my breakfast had gone cold. But I had lost my appetite so did not feel like eating - anyway it was very hard to hold the fork. Before we left the hotel, I asked the receptionist to put more germolene on my hand. She reluctantly complied but when I asked if I could have it with me for the day I was told, "There's a pharmacy down the road and they can sell you some. This is part of our first aid kit."!
As our flight was late on Monday evening, I had had the foresight before leaving home to book a trip to Robben Island. After our breakfast ordeal we took the shuttle in to the V&A and the driver kindly left us at the clock tower beside the Nelson Mandela Gateway. Charlotte and I considered buying some jewellery with tanzanite. It is really beautiful but horrendously expensive so we reluctantly denied ourselves the pleasure.
As we were getting on the ferry there were men taking photos in the hope that we would buy one when we returned. One of them referred to Jim as "the man with two wives" saying, "Almost as good as our President!"
The welcoming committee at Robben Island.
From the ferry we made our way to the buses ready to give us our tour.
We were dropped off at the entrance to the prison compound where we met our guide, a former prisoner on Robben Island. I think his name was Dumisani Mwandla.
People with leprosy used to be sent to Robben Island to keep them from mixing with other people. A lot of them were buried here.
Robert Sobukwe was a founder member and first President of the Pan Africanist Congress. While on Robben Island he was kept in solitary confinement.
Prisoners had to work at the limestone quarry. Nelson Mandela worked there for 13 years. As a result he suffered eye problems. The prisoners used their time here to educate themselves. Those who were well educated taught those who weren't.
The Garrison Anglican Church is an early example of Cape Gothic Style.
Back in Cape Town we decided to have a last nice meal before going to the airport. We were right beside the Fish Market so decided that would be the place to have really good fish. Both Charlotte and I were attracted to a creamy seafood potjie - the cheapest meal on offer. Our waiter did not approve of our choice thinking that the Kingklip would be a better choice. I think he was hoping we would choose something expensive so as to increase his tips. We stuck to our guns however and were delighted with our choice. I have since recreated it at home with excellent results"!
Christmas decorations in the Clock Tower Centre.
And so our adventure in South Africa was at an end. What a wonderful lot of experiences we had! We returned to Le Vendome, got our luggage out of storage and waited for our transfer to the airport. There we were swooped upon by a South African man (to carry our luggage) who was delighted that we were Irish as he was living in one of the houses built by Niall Mellon. He couldn't praise him highly enough!
