Visit to Cape Town
account by Elinor Patterson
Who would have thought that joining the U3A would lead directly to a visit to South Africa?
Within a short time of becoming members, Alex and I had decided to try bowling and signed up for Mary Roger’s bowling group, which, incidentally, also celebrates its 20th anniversary this year. We were soon drawn into the game, joined Aylesbury Town Bowling Club too, and from there it was a short step to being invited to join the Three Counties bowling tour to Cape Town, organised by Geof Roberts of Cheddington. There were thirty eight of us on the tour including Mary Rogers, Cyril Reed, Alex and myself from AVU3A.
Having left England in cold and rain, we arrived in Cape Town in lovely sunshine only to be wakened that night by gale force winds hurling the metal tables and chairs across the hotel courtyard. Consequently our first game had to be abandoned because of the unusual weather conditions. Fortunately, warm sunshine stayed with us for the remainder of the tour.
The bowling clubs in Cape Town are very much larger than the ones over here, boasting three or even four greens rather than the more usual one green that we encounter here. They also bowl outdoors for almost twelve months of the year instead of the more usual five or six over here. And, yes, they did win more games than we did! Their players were most hospitable and friendly and went out of their way to make us feel at home.
When we arrived in Cape Town, we had found it very disconcerting to find our hotel surrounded by brick walls, topped by an electric fence and to be told to go out only by taxi. This tight security was visible throughout the most prosperous areas of the town. We were very careful to conceal our possessions and not to attract too much attention and I have to say that I never felt threatened and found the people that we came in contact with to be very courteous and friendly.
Of course our visit was not all about playing bowls and we had a very packed schedule.
We visited Seal Island with its hundreds of seals sunning themselves, seeing some whales en route. Later we shared an enclosure with two semi civilised cheetahs, saw an enormous selection of birds in a sanctuary, tasted wine, walked through caves, sailed on a lagoon and even had a ride on a steam train.
It would be difficult to forget the panoramic views over this beautiful coast from the top of Table Mountain with the mist lapping over the surrounding hills or the beautiful gardens of Kirstenbosch with the bees swarming in the heat around the unusual flowers.
The five days we spent on the Garden Route, east along the coast from Cape Town, provided many more memories – not all of them comfortable ones. There was the safari park where the elephant, which we had been told had killed one of the rhinos, got a little too close for comfort and then the open sided land rover that we were travelling in only just made it out of the lions’ enclosure before it broke down completely. The ten minutes that we spent beside the rhino waiting to be rescued did nothing for the blood pressure!
But that was surely offset by the pleasure of feeding orphaned elephants, especially the baby ones that came begging for food, and finding out how bristly their skin really is and from close encounters with ostriches that some were brave enough to try to ride.
Of course, no one could be blind to the real poverty around us, as evidenced by the thousands of tin shacks that line the road from the airport to the city, and are home to even more thousands of the poor.
I mustn’t forget Robben Island, where Nelson Mandela and his companions were imprisoned for so many years. We were shown around by a former prisoner who, when asked, said he felt no bitterness about the past because he felt that more had already been achieved than he had ever felt possible. South Africa is such a beautiful country with so many natural resources including its people that one can only hope that his wishes for the future come true.
Inscribed on the floor of the District 6 Museum, in the heart of one of the areas first cleared of black and coloured people during apartheid, are the words which speak for themselves.
Hold fast to dreams
For, if dreams die,
Life is a broken-wing bird
That cannot fly.
Elinor Patterson – January 2009
