ACT II- May- The Return of the Bruce and Beyond

ACT II- MAY: The Return of the Bruce and Beyond.

Scene 1- Parents Arrive

In large part due to my blog updates, my parents were inspired to make the trans-Atlantic flight to South Africa to visit the sites that I wrote about, but also partly to visit me. Our plan was to meet in Port Elizabeth (PE) and road trip together through the Garden Route, a famous road that covers the spectacular Southern Coast of South Africa, starting in PE and heading Westward to Cape Town. Despite the fact that I am a fully grown, independent, 22 year old man, I was honestly excited to see my folks, folks. Getting off the plane and embracing my Mom and Dad at the PE airport was a sentimental moment indeed, made all the sweeter by the case of Mandel bread in my mom’s hand (one of the big perks of having a Jewish mother). I won’t lie, I missed my parents and it was good to see them.

Scene 2- Jeffrey’s Bay

Our first destination on the Garden Route was the legendary surf spot, Jeffrey’s Bay, home of the Billabong Pro. The fact that there is a level in Kelly Slater called J-Bay is proof enough of the prestige of this wave. My dad, being the Bruce that he is, was so on top of his game, that he did intense online research of J-Bay accommodation until he found a Bed and Breakfast that was located on the upper banks directly overlooking this beautiful wave. Driving into our place, I jumped out of the car and ran to the boardwalk viewpoint, standing in awe of what was my first experience of a perfect tube. Now, I’ve seen my share of smooth waves in my lifetime, many of which I have shared with ol’ time surfer Stroudel at Long Beach, but this cylinder was like nothing else I’ve ever seen. Charging in wicked fast from the sea and peeling over just at the tip of the point break, this wave rolled with the grace and speed of Shakira’s hips, turning over like a quick whip while maintaining a fluid form throughout the break. A handful of guys stood out there in the line up catching these waves with such precision of placement and timing that even someone who knows nothing about surfing would be able to instantly tell that these guys were highly skilled. Seduced by the beauty of the wave, I was nearly tempted to go out there and give out a try myself, despite the fact that I’m actually not a really good surfer. I’ve been out in bigger surf before- this wave was only about 6 feet high. But after talking to a surfer who told me that if you fall after the break the wave can easily push you into a rock surface that is covered by only 4 feet of water, I resigned to watching the wave from the shore. I walked along the beach to check out the wave from different angles, finding a 3 foot beached, nearly-dead shark, who clearly didn’t have his way with the wave. Although I wish I was skilled enough to ride the J-Bay, I have no regrets about not giving it a go. Watching the elegant sets roll in one after another in the light of the setting sun, I was stoked without even getting wet.

Scene 3- A Day of Mammoth Proportions

The second day of the Garden Route, I insisted on waking up at the crack of dawn, just so I could spend as much time as possible watching the J-Bay wave before hitting the road to continue our trip. After a nice walk on the beach and a healthy breakfast, we set out to the Tsitskiamma Mountains, home of THE BIG TREE. An entire reserve built around a single tree with a huge reputation, we had high expectations of what we would see. After a 20 minute stroll on boardwalks through the woods, we got to a tree that was clearly big, but as my dad said, not nearly big enough to be called “THE BIG TREE”. Perhaps due to his 6’4.5’’ height, my dad was thoroughly disappointed, more impressed with the boardwalk system surrounding “The Big Tree”, than “The Big Tree” itself. Despite my comparable height, I actually thought the tree was kind of cool. But my dad was eager to move on to other sites, pushing the pace of my time with “The Big Tree.” (Basically, when we got to the tree, he took one look at it, yawned, and said: “let’s go.”)

Our next stop of the day was the Storm-River Mouth, the site of a series of giant suspension bridges hanging over a river that feeds into the ocean. The opening view of the Storm-River Mouth hits you right in the face: white water splashing on rocks cast throughout the sea, waves storming into the middle of the river, the opposing river banks connected by a long suspension bridge, and a huge bluff covered in big green trees across the way, overlooking the entire misty scene with determined dignity. We took a short hike over to the suspension bridge. Standing in the middle of the bridge, we were surrounded by water, with the ocean behind and the river slithering out in front, disappearing in a canyon around the bend. The looming bluff was too daring to resist, forcing us to set out on a hike to the peak. At the top, each direction offered a different view, rolling farmlands peeking out on the higher level above, while the suspension bridges standing a k-nex set down below. On the final leg of the hike back to the car, I told my mom (who, like all Jewish mothers, loves to talk) about how it is sometimes nice to take an oath of silence while hiking. She suggested taking the oath together, and not wanting to argue with her, I happily agreed. To her credit, she was able to maintain true to the oath for the last 30 minutes of the hike. Her biggest test came when a group of strangers walking by attempted to engage her in quick small talk, where upon she reacted by simply pretending to not understand what they were saying, looked down, and waited for my dad to pick up the conversational slack. She definitely deserves bonus points for that sneaky manoeuvre.

The final stop of Mammoth day was to be the 216 meter high Bloukrans Bridge, home of the world’s highest Bungy Jump Bridge. As a little kid, I can’t begin to tell you how much I used to be afraid of scary theme park rides. I was so scared of going down the steep water slide Geronimo at Water Country that I asked my mom go down first to alleviate my fears. Of course, she had no interest in doing it for herself, but for the sake of her son, went down that crazy thing, screaming the whole way through. After watching her go down the slide, I hiked to the top, prepared myself to launch, and then chickened out, running away to take a dip in the wave pool instead. There are numerous versions of this type of thing happening to me and they all point to the same conclusion: I used to be a serious whimp. Yet, this time, I wasn’t going to let my over-analytical mind get to me. I was determined to jump off this bridge, I made my mind up, and I wasn’t changing it no matter what. We arrived at the scene of the bridge and my stomach immediately dropped. Not for the sake of my own fear, but for the joy and excitement that I got out of thinking that my parents were actually going to watch me jump off a bridge. Wow, what a rush. This bridge was huge, and despite my mom’s pestering in the background, saying: “David, you don’t really have to do this. You can tell your friends you did it anyway. No one has to know the truth. Don’t do it!” I had already made my mind up and was excited for this breakthrough from my childhood fears. I geared up in a harness and made my way towards the bridge. The walk towards the jumping point is an intense enough experience on its own, as I walked on a metal caged track tucked just under the main part of the bridge, with holes in the cage flooring, offering a lucid view of the 216 meter drop to the forest below. The man accompanying me on this walk told my how many people back out of their decision to jump at this very point. Not me. My mind was already set. Walking further, we reached the jumping point, which was manned by a crew of at least a dozen men. Everyone around me engaged me in conversation, surely as part of their job to distract me from negative thoughts. Didn’t make a difference to me. My mind was made up. I joked, laughed, slapped five with everyone at the platform. One of the men pointed out a guy across the platform, telling me he was Robert Mugabe (ruthless dictator of Zimbabwe). Indeed he wasn’t far off from the Mugabe look, and we shared a good laugh about this. Then, as they bundled up my feet together, which was made of less material than I expected, the crew played some pump up music which I happily danced to do with whatever part of my body that I could still move. I wasn’t afraid at all. My mind was made up. Then they brought me to the edge of the bridge and... Holy Shasta! What a drop! Standing over the edge, my survival instincts were screaming at me to move back. But it didn’t matter. My mind was made up. They then told me to put my toes even farther over the edge. Sure. No problem. My mind was made up. Then, without even giving me any warning, they initiated an intensely fast and loud countdown. 5! 4! 3! 2! 1! It wasn’t even necessary. My mind was made up. I jumped forward like a swan diving into a lake, both of my arms stretched straight out like superman flying to save the world. My first thought was: Shasta! Why did I do that?! My second thought was: Wow, I am going a lot faster than I expected. My third thought: Wow, it’s getting even faaaaaaasssssttter. My fourth thought as the Bungy pulled on my legs: YAAAAAAA! Although I didn’t yet grasp the vocal chord capability to express that. After the Bungy pulled me up one more time, I finally regained vocal capability, shouting out loud continuously in pure ecstasy. I bounced up and down for another minute or so, and then a man from above was sent down to take me up. I grabbed him as a natural reflex, to which he replied: “Hey buddy, don’t touch me. I’m a married man.” These bungy guys sure know how to have a sense of humor. He clipped me onto his harness, and together we rose back to the top of the bridge. Upon getting to the landing, I was filled with such an adrenaline rush, that I couldn’t stop smiling. The only feeling I can compare it to was the high I experienced after getting my wisdom teeth pulled. I smiled and greeted everyone, slapping five with Mugabe and crew. I walked back off the bridge and headed to where my parents were. I gave my parents each a huge hug and high five, after which I saw a handful of people in the background. They all looked at me excitedly, and congratulated me on a great jump. Like a famous politician, I walked over to each and every one of these strangers, and shook their hands, huge smile still intact. I’m telling you folks, I was not in control at the time- the bungy spirit took over. I then walked into the gift shop, still smiling, and waved to all the workers in the store. I asked to see the video of myself jumping, and was pumped up at every moment of watching it. I bought the video along with some pictures (happy to show any of you if you are interested) and smiled the whole time while purchasing. My parents were cracking up at me in the background, while the lady running the store told them that she’s never seen anyone smile so much after jumping. Upon heading to the door to leave the store, still in 7th heaven, I turned around to wave and smile to my new friends. So engaged in my activity of smiling, that I wasn’t looking where I was going and walked right into a pole. For a moment, all the workers in the store paused in shock, and then in unison, we all started cracking up together. I went into the car and kept on smiling for a good 30 minutes more until the adrenaline finally wore down. Later that night, I looked into the mirror and noticed that a blood vessel burst in my eye and tiny capillaries were burst around my eye sockets, revealing little red spots on my face. I guess the combination of the adrenaline rush and the blood pumping to my head got to me, but let me tell you, it was well worth it. I’m already looking forward to my next Bungy jump. I’m glad I made up my mind.

Scene 4- Knysna to Oudshoorn

Knysna, one of the cities of the Garden Route, is a charming mussel-economy based town, with a bay that connects to the Atlantic ocean through a very small opening. We stayed at a beautiful Bed and Breakfast overlooking the whole scene. Highlight of the stay: some delicious ginger chilli sauce and listening to Pavarotti and friends perform “We are the World” while staring at the view.

On the same day that we stayed at Kysna, we checked out this place called Monkey Land, a giant caged in monkey reserve. At Monkey Land, we took a walk around the reserve, with monkeys casually hanging around us, free to roam wherever they want. I really enjoyed the intimacy of being able to walk around with the monkeys as opposed to seeing them in a cage. Lemurs, capuchins, and marmosets were some of the species we saw. Highlight: in the middle of the tour, a giant white monkey walked right in front of us in the path, ignoring us completely and forcing us to have to stop in our tracks to avoid walking into him. It was my first experience of a monkey crossing. (Although you do have to watch out for Baboons in Cape Town.)

That night we stayed at a place higher up in the mountains called Oudshoor, Ostrich capital of South Africa. Highlight: Upon arriving there, the place we were staying at was experiencing a blackout. Lucky for me, I brought my handy dandy headlamp. Lesson of the day: always travel with a headlamp.

We woke up the next morning for a relaxing walk in the fields of Outdshoorn. Rather than pay for a tour of the Ostrich safari, we did it the Israeli way, going into the parking lot and enjoying as much of the ostriches as we could see from there. They farm ostriches like chickens in this country, and we had more than enough opportunities to see ostriches throughout our road trip.

Scene 5 – Table Bay

I spent the weekend with my parents staying at the Table Bay hotel in the waterfront, truly a grand place. Previous guests have included Michael Jackson and Barack Obama, so you know this place is nice (but don’t worry, I’m sure my parents got a good deal). For our Shabbat food, the generous owner of Avron’s kosher deli hand delivered the goods to our place. We had a delicious meal Friday night, and called it in for an early night of sleep after an exciting week of travelling. The next morning, we took a walk along the promenade along the Atlantic ocean to the Jewish community in Sea Point, a scenic Cape Town neighbourhood nestled between the mountain and the sea. On this particular Shabbat morning, the swells were monstrous, pounding away at least 10 feet high and providing an awe-inspiring back-drop for a pristine Shabbat walk. At some points, the waves were big enough to crash up against the promenade wall with such force, that the up-spray would shoot forth onto us on the sidewalk. I wanted to take my parents to the Marais Road Shul, because I had been there before and was really impressed with their choir, which is known to be the second best in all of South Africa. Last time I was there, they sung an enlivening “adon olam” to the tune of sharm el sheikh, a six-day war classic. Of course, despite the fact that my parents were almost 8,000 miles away from home, going to shul they were bound to bump into someone they would know. At this shul, odds had it that they crossed paths with Eliezer Kapelowitz, a long time friend who used to live in Newton and happened to be in Cape Town visiting his mother. You can be sure that my parents got a good kick out of this “it’s a small world” encounter. We made it to shul just in time for the “Adon Olam,” which was sung to the delightful tune of “Shir L’Shalom.” After Kiddush, we stayed for a short shiur by Robby Berman. Topic: the halacha and organ donations. The shiuir was insightful, funny, and clearly targeted at the right audience, as most people in the crowd were well over 60, making them the crucial people to discuss the topic of donating organs. To sum up his point, if you are not already an organ donor, then you should become one. I recommend checking out his stuff on Google.

That night, we went to see a play called London Road, without knowing what it was about in advance. Merely by chance, the show was about a Nigerian drug dealer and an elderly Jewish widow, becoming friends in Sea Point. Fitting that the show we saw was about the same place I showed my parents earlier that day. After the show, I took my parents to a great milkshake place, Mr. Pickwick’s, which also runs as a bar at night. My parents were the only ones above 30 in the whole building, and I’m sure they enjoyed pretending to be young for some of the evening.

Scene 6 –Cape Peninsula Tour the Sequel.

Written about in my first post, one of my most extra-ordinary experiences of Cape Town until this day still remains that initial peninsula tour. Wanting to provide my parents with the same enchanting experience I had, I decided to give them a tour of the peninsula myself. We stopped at all the major places that I stopped at, but to avoid repetition, I will merely address the highlights.
One of our stops was Boulder’s beach, home of the penguins. Upon reaching the guard of the beach, he told us that there are two ways to go, one that costs money and the other one free. In addition, we were told that the free one offered a closer view of the penguins. Not understanding how this made any sense, we took the good deal for what it was, choosing the free route. We ended up seeing dozens of penguins who stood so close to us we could have touched them. The fact that you have to pay to get a worst view of the penguins still bewilders me.

At Cape Point, we got caught in a rainstorm. Well, I shouldn’t say we, rather my parents got caught in a rainstorm while I found shelter to wait it out. There was a beautiful rainbow after the storm.

Scene 7- Parents Leaving

After showing my parents around Hertziliyah high school and driving up to the top of Signal Hill with them, which offers a 360 degree view of the Cape Town Area, my parents set out to finish the rest of their trip without me, heading to Kruger for a safari on their own. It was sad to say goodbye to my parents, but don’t worry, I’ve managed just fine since then.

Scene 8- Mannenberg

My friend Maya runs the Shawco volunteer arts program at UCT and she told me about a kids performance festival that was going on in the Cape Town suburb of Mannenberg. It sounded like a fun day so I decided to join even though I am not a Shawco volunteer. Highlights of the day:
1) Having little colored kids play with my huge nose, in shock of the mere magnitude of the thing. Seriously, these kids were jumping on my lap and pulling away at my shnaaze, giggling, laughing, and just flat out impressed with such a big smelling device.
2) Seeing all the little kids get on the stage and sing along to Knaan’s “Waving Flag” song, which I’m sure you all know by now from watching the world cup. Great song. I dig Waka Waka as well, but that Knaan’s deserved to be the official song.
3) Playing soccer with the little kids and being the worst player on a team full of 12 year olds. I don’t understand how Bafana Bafana didn’t make it the 2nd round- the youth of this country are very talented players.

Scene 9- Shavuot

At the Bnei’ Akiva shul during Shavuot, the community held a panel to discuss what Cape Town Jewery will look like in ten years. I was impressed with how much people cared about the Jewish life in Cape Town, ranging from high school aged kids to adults. Everyone passionately expressed their opinion about how Jewish life in Cape Town could be improved. Seeing people care about something is always inspiring.
Highlight of the night: A little kid, about 8 years old, addressed the crowd of over 50 adults, talking about how he likes the Jewish life better in Johannesburg than Cape Town, because when he goes there he gets to eat at the kosher Nando’s (think Wendy’s).

Scene 10- Shark Diving

About a month ago I went great white shark diving, in a place called Gansbaai, about a 2.5 hour drive from Cape Town. We departed the marina and went off in a boat into deep, shark infested waters. The Cape Town area is one of the best places in the world to go shark diving due to the high population of great white sharks that live close to the shore. When we arrived at a good point in the ocean, the boat anchored, and a few of the crew began to spill out chum into the sea, whose smell is supposed to attract the sharks. After about 30 minutes, we saw our first shark from on top of the boat, and we quickly were told to hop into the cage to get a better view. The cage is set up against the side of the boat, and I jumped in. When a shark comes by, someone from the top of the boat shouts out which direction to look in, after which the cage divers held their breath and submerged their heads under water to get up close and personal with the sharks. We saw several sharks throughout the day, the largest being 3.5 meters. The sharks would come right up to the cage, even making eye contact with me. The crew on top would play with the shark with a tuna head on a rope, throwing it into the water and pulling it back as the shark surfaced, as a way to get the shark to open its mouth so we could see into its jaws. It was pretty cool stuff.
Also, on the trip out at sea, we passed by an island full of 60,000 seals. That place stunk. The seals were making a lot of playful noises, but I think some of the sounds they were emitting carried odors as well.