I arrived at Cape Town International this morning at 10am, on time, with some sleep under my belt, dragging some ridiculously heavy luggage including such items as clothes, back-issues of Live Magazine (from the archives), paperwork, various leads and cables and technology, and a taxidermised flying lizard in a handsome glass case (yes, really).
Picked up by my friend Charlie, who I’m staying with for the first few days, we were soon flying along the N2, past Khayelitsha (on the left) and Langa (on the right), two of the townships you first see as a visitor heading into the city from the airport. Charlie dropped me at his apartment, a peaceful, breezy loft-style pad in Vredehoek, right under the table-cloth of Table Mountain and with a commanding view of the whole city. The embers of a veld-fire are still smoldering on Signal Hill, on the opposite side of the City Bowl. A bin lorry is patrolling somewhere nearby. It’s calm, normal. Ever so slightly surreal.
Rest, I thought, must rest now. But I couldn’t. I’m so excited to be here and so eager to get cracking that I was elbow deep with the phone, computer and notepad, before Charlie has starter his car to go off to work. Of course, by 2pm I was spreadeagled, catching flies in my lovely little mezzanine room as the wind chimes rattled and clouds drifted across above the loft-window.
I’ve got a to-do list longer than the vast beaches off to the north of Cape Town that I can see from the balcony as I type this, and I’m on a mission to start striking things off… sorted already: a temporary apartment, a hire car, a temporary mobile phone, three dinners, two meetings, a first draft of a proposal for my first piece of work, and this blog post.
And I’m happy to report that the flying lizard arrived safely, intact.