The World is Her Toilet

I arrived in Cape Town on a beautiful morning and immediately made my way to the delightfully overpriced Cape Heritage hotel in central Cape Town. Given that I had one afternoon to spend in Cape Town, I ventured to the lobby to research afternoon tourist activities. Nobody was at reception, so I approached the bellman:

Me: Hi there.

Bellman: Hello, boss.

Me (unaware that "boss" is considered appropriate slang in South Africa): Um, yeah. I was wondering if you could direct me to the nearest tourist trap. I only have one day here, so I need to get ripped off as soon as possible.

Bellman: You could go to the V&A Waterfront. There's also a tourist bus that gives you a tour of the city, but it stops running at 3 o'clock, so you should...

As he chatted away, I peered up at Table Mountain (pictured above at left) behind him.

Me (pointing at the mountain and interrupting him): What about there? Table Mountain? Can I go up there?

Bellman: Oh, yes boss. I can fetch a taxi to take you to the cableway (NB: The cableway refers to a gondola that takes visitors to the top of Table Mountain).

Me: The cableway? Can't I climb it? Aren't there any trails?

The bellman sized me up, looking me up and down to determine whether or not I might be healthy enough to undertake such a climb.

Bellman: Yes, boss. You could, but it's not safe.

Me: What? I could fall or something? I'm pretty good at walking. I have loads of experience.

Bellman: There are bad people. You should not go alone.

Me: But it's a national park. There's a crime problem in a national park?

Bellman (looking at me like I'd just asked the stupidest question ever): Yes, boss. You should take the cableway.

Though I'd heard that South Africa has a rather troubling crime problem, this was going to take a bit of adjusting for me. I quickly learned that I simply couldn't do many things to which I'd become accustomed in the US. Solitary evening jogs, for instance, wouldn't be possible for the next few months.

After a short taxi ride, I arrived at the base of the cableway. The cableway seemed to be the thing to do in Cape Town on that Sunday afternoon; the place was teeming with tourists.

After a rather long wait, I climbed into the gondola along with 50 of my closest friends, all of whom eagerly pushed and shoved one another (and me) to secure for themselves the best view. As the gondola began its ascent, a curious thing happened: the floor began to rotate, thus enabling everyone to enjoy (at least for a moment) a pleasant view no matter where they stood. My fellow passengers let forth a flood of "oohs" and "aahs" at this technical wonder, known to you and me as the rotating gear. The gear counts itself among other space-age technologies, such as the wheel and the hammer. Ooh and ahh, indeed.

As I approached the top of Table Mountain, I began to fear that I had unwittingly bought a ticket to a glorified Disney attraction. Here I was, ascending a mountain on a gondola sponsored by Visa (see photo at right) that carries 900 dumpy tourists to its precipice every hour, me among them. I was further disturbed to find a gift shop at the upper platform, and hundreds of tourists milling about on concrete paths gruesomely cut into the rock. Some were boozing it up with overpriced beer and wine from a mountain-top cafeteria. Do you suppose that's what people think is natural for a mountain top? A cafeteria? When Sir Edmund Hillary ascended Mount Everest, I doubt he turned to his crew and said: "Okay, boys! Put the New Zealand flag right here, and set up the cafeteria just over there! You didn't forget to the bring the stale $12 muffins, did you?"

I walked for a good bit, trying to find a bit of solitude. I eventually found a nice spot atop a rock facing west (the sun was beginning its slow descent into the southern Atlantic Ocean). Indeed, the view was breathtaking. I was well above the cloud line, so I peered down through cloud breaks to catch glimpses of Cape Town's beautiful Camp's Bay, with its white sands and crystal blue waters. For a moment, one could almost forget the material threat of a shark attack for anyone foolish enough to swim too far from the Bay's beaches. Indeed, my Table Mountain experience was improving rapidly.

Just then, an English family found a spot near me. Their young daughter was prattling away:

Girl: Oh, Mummy! The view is simply beautiful!

The little girl had the most proper southeastern English accent imaginable. She didn't just say "beautiful;" she exclaimed "bea-uuuu-ti-ful!" I thought only the kids in mid-1960s Disney movies (e.g., "Mary Poppins") talked like this. Her mother, however, looked inexplicably perturbed.

Mother: Quiet, darling! We musn't disturb the other visitors. Let's remember to use our quiet voice.

Girl (now whispering): Yes, mummy!

"Well," I thought, "This place just keeps getting better! Not only is the view astounding, but even the small children are polite and well tended-to!"

I drifted into a near-trance, completely stupefied by the sunset before me. I then heard a strange trickling sound. I looked in all directions. What on earth could be making that sound? It's not like the mountain could just spring a leak. Just then, I noticed the English family again. I was horrified to see the little girl - the same one that looked as if she'd just stepped off a Disney soundstage - hoisted into the air by her mother and nanny, and eagerly draining her bladder. Nice. They've just taken it upon themselves to turn this UNESCO World Heritage Site into a UNESCO World Heritage Toilet.

Fortunately, no amount of errant urination could mar my visit to Table Mountain. The views from atop Table Mountain are humbling and surreal. I can't recommend it highly enough. If you should visit, however, please note that toilets can be found near the cableway, just above the cafeteria.