During my trip, I had an unexpected visit from a good friend I met in Tenerife. She’s been a full-time nomad for years. That means she travels the world just like me, but unlike me, she doesn’t have a fixed home base to which she returns regularly. I know from our conversations that she sometimes wishes she had one, but she can hardly find any places where she doesn’t eventually feel “cooped in.” Or maybe all that traveling has simply made her addicted to the next adventure? You’d probably have to ask her that yourself.
So there she was in Cape Town, and, as always, full of energy. I think she did more different things in just under two weeks than I did in two months. While I go through life at a much more relaxed pace, she often doesn’t have enough battery power to keep up with all her energy. Even though we know our energy levels couldn’t be more different, whenever we see each other, it’s always as if we’ve known each other forever. That’s surely also because we push each other or, conversely, help each other slow down. So I had no reservations when we agreed to spend a day touring outside the city. Our route first took us along Chapman’s Peak Drive, which is considered one of the most beautiful coastal roads in the world. No wonder there’s now a toll here. But you’re happy to pay it given the view. Especially since the alternative route can take two to three times as long, depending on the time of day. After all, we don’t have time to waste.
During the roughly 1.5-hour drive, my companion can barely hide her excitement. In fact, she doesn’t even try. How could she? After all, our next stop is Boulders Beach. Anyone who’s ever been to Cape Town knows that it’s home to what is probably the largest penguin colony in the Cape. And how could it be any other way? My friend is also great at channeling her energy into obsessions with all kinds of animals. When we arrive at Boulders Beach, we’re almost the only ones there. And one thing is certain: this place is truly teeming with penguins.
A sign warns you to check under your car before backing out of a parking spot. So they really are everywhere. We share this penguin wonderland with an animal called a “schliefer,” a wild mix of guinea pig, rabbit, and marmot. As expected, a walk that would take me about 15 minutes (five minutes for her) ends up taking us about 30–45 minutes. As an experienced safari enthusiast, my companion naturally has her SLR camera in tow. I’ve only ever seen a projectile like that in soccer. Every animal is meticulously captured with it. In photos and video. I figure the time invested will pay off for me later, so I wait patiently until even the last critter is in the bag.
45 minutes later, we arrive at a beach. It was an insider tip from my friend to save on the entrance fee to the big penguin colony. And after all, none of us have money to burn. So we hop over hill and dale in search of them. Not a penguin in sight. On the last “hop,” I feel a sharp pain shoot through my lower back—and it really stung. The witch has struck again—and I don’t mean my companion.
Stay calm. Take a deep breath. Keep moving.
That’s what I think. And above all, I mustn’t let on, knowing full well that the day is really just beginning. We arrive at the penguin mecca. I’ve only ever seen penguins at the zoo, but I quickly get the impression that they’re happier in the wild. I’ve lost track of my companion right away. She’s in a different universe. Now there’s only her, her oversized camera, and penguins.
I look around. While a group of penguins is trying to get into the water, a confused male penguin is waddling around with a twig in his beak. It’s not entirely clear whether he’s an insatiable Casanova who doesn’t know which nest to tend to first, or if he’s just lost his way. An hour, a thorough round of penguin souvenir shopping, and a coffee later, we’re ready for the next stop. So we head back the same way—not without stopping several times, of course. The whole spot is now packed with people. Thank goodness we got up at 7:30 a.m., I think to myself, buckle up, and the car rolls off.
Next Stop: Cape of Good Hope.
Once we arrive at the Cape of Good Hope, we stop at the Two Oceans Restaurant. My girlfriend eats a delicious ostrich carpaccio. I only mention this because it would turn out to be important later. Unlike most others who head to one of the lighthouses, we decide to go for a leisurely hike. By chance, our gaze is drawn into the distance. I notice the excitement building in my companion. High up, way up on the mountain, there are antelopes. I think they were impalas. Here at the Cape. In the wild. Crazy. I’m almost as euphoric as she is, but as is so often the case, I find it hard to show it. You’ve probably guessed it already. She pulls out her camera and zooms in on the beasts all the way to Meppen. 127 photos later, we move on.
No sooner had we left the sandy trail than we stumbled upon a group of wild ostriches. “Did I book a safari here or something?” I thought. By now, my companion was completely out of control. I waited patiently until the ostrich was finally in the frame and enjoyed the magnificent view of the sea.
"Wait a minute. Didn't you just invite someone from his family over for lunch?" I ask her. I can tell she's briefly overcome by a pang of guilt before she turns the camera right back on him.
Back at the car, it hits me like a bolt of lightning: did anyone actually check under the car before we left Boulders Beach…
