Finally! I’m here! After an 11 hour flight from Amsterdam, I arrived in Cape Town, South Eh-frica (local pronunciation). The first week has definitely been very interesting, so here goes:
Hostel: Oh my god. Get me out of here! Although the hostel is in a great and very central area of Cape Town (Sea Point), I’m sharing my 5-bedroom dorm with a 60 year old man who appears to have permanently settled down to retire here (he even bought a plant to decorate the place up a bit). And although he does not stumble home at 2am like other backpackers, he has somehow mastered the art of snoring consistency. All night long. Not once does he provide that “5 minute window of silence” to let me fall asleep. Thus, my only means of finding sleep can be obtained in the upstairs "TV room." My last night in the hostel I was actually awoken by two little kids blasting cartoons at 6am. Good times.
I did meet some great people in the hostel though. Several Australians who are currently on around-the-world journies. Their stories were amazing thus far. Being chased by Gorillas through the Congo. Living in a tribal village of Uganda for 2 months. Living in a private seaside villa in Thailand for $10/night. More or less, I don't think I ever want to come home now. ; )
Car: The day after I arrived in Cape Town, a man named Alex came and picked me up from my hostel, and took me around the bend to pick up my South African Bentley equivalent: A 2002 VW Citi Golf. If the picture doesn’t do justice on this car, I don’t think anything will. It has no power steering. No power anything. You can’t even start the car like a normal car since the damn thing has a choke. It’s pretty much like a lawn mower, but a tad bit more powerful. Once the car actually starts moving, the melodic sounds of the rattling engine provide a nice substitute to the nonfunctional radio/tape player. In addition, a nice waft of engine burning begins to fill my lungs after a few minutes, and since I am unable to roll down the windows more than a crack (locals have a reputation of reaching inside cars to steal your radio, steal your car, or maybe even you), I need to come to terms with my natural air freshener ("Burning Metal"). Oh yeah, and I’m driving on the left-side of the road (the day I forgot to look right first is not gonna end well). Vroom vroom.
Apt/Flat Hunting: So, the hostel wasn’t so great. The car is OK. At least it would be pretty easy to find a decent apartment/flat. Nope. Not a chance. Lets go down the list:
Deevick – 45 year old stock broker. Yes, 45 years old. And looking for a roommate. Kinda weird… His place is amazing, but soooooo expensive (~ $450/month – that’s ridiculously high from everything else I’ve seen). Nice guy, nice place, but he’s 45.
Kevin – 27 year old rugby player. Pretty cool, laid back, but kinda gives off the vibe of “I don’t want to live with a bloody Yank.” His place is fairly cheap (<$300/month), but I’m sure there’s probably something better out there…
Argentina – 55 year old hippie. If you could pick out that one person from San Francisco that is the perfect reflection of the city and its 60s past, this would be Argentina. I felt like I was walking into a bad porno set when entering her flat. And her constant awkward staring made my decision just that much easier. No.
June – 45 year old single mother. Good god! Where are the young people in this city?! While very nice, very sweet, and seems like she would be fun to live with, I’m still having issues with living with someone the same age as my parents… I’ll keep her on the list for now.
Michelle – 55 year old something or the other. Once again, very nice lady, basically twice my age, but the room has no walls! Just transparent cloths hanging everywhere… I have no idea what to even think about this place. Despite the absolutely amazing views from the balcony, I think I’d need a little more privacy than… well, more than absolutely none. No.
So, if you might’ve guessed, I moved in with Kevin (rugby player), and am officially that much closer to settling myself into Cape Town. In regards to the details of our flat, it is a 5 minute walk from the ocean, nearby to several restaurants, bars and stores, and literally a $3 taxi ride to anywhere in the city (driving at night is an experience here – if you aren’t doing double the speed limit, you will be run off the road and flicked off/shot in the process).
In regards to my "social life," I was connected to a group of girls (thanks Kim!) that have welcomed me in and provided me with my first official South African blackout. Our intro may have gone a bit smoother if I hadn't accidentally stolen one of the girls phones and unknowingly took it back to my hostel with me. Aren’t you proud of me Mom?
Tis all for now, onto the pictures (not sure why there is such a big gap of blank space...):
 | My Bedroom - very well decorated if you ask me |
 | Main Room - Current home to 24/7 rugby matches |
 | Probably one of the most compact kitchens ever |
 | The "Throne" |
 | Camps Bay (Beach about a 5-10 minute drive down the road). and yes, this is a real picture. pretty ugly huh? |
 | View of Cape Town from Bloubergstrand (~25 minute drive from town). I live just to the right of the peak on the right: "Lions Head" |
 | View from my bedroom window |
 | View of "Lions Head" from outside our front door. |
Next Week: Job Hunting, Citizenship Application, Endless Rugby World Cup Matches
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