When you go on a long journey, where do you start and where do you end? Admittedly, the end of my journey is still uncertain. The starting point was clear relatively quickly: I'm going to Cape Town. I had heard so much about this crazy city that it was time to see it for myself.
In addition to many friends who had told me mostly about wonderful vacations, I knew that one of them had fallen in love with this city and had been spending months here working for several years. A few WhatsApp messages and calls later, I had already booked my trip.
Now I just had to tell my parents.
There are many myths surrounding the city. One myth is how dangerous Cape Town is.
My clear answer after 1.5 months: It depends.
But how do you explain that to someone who didn't want to enter a certain neighborhood in Copenhagen because the State Department's website warned of shootings?
Who is it about? Yes, exactly, my mother.
She’s the best mother I could have asked for. But—or perhaps precisely because of that—she’s always worried. I was able to assure her that I’ll take the best possible care of myself.
Arriving in Cape Town at 6 a.m., I wait for the immigration counters to open. I feel myself getting nervous. I had read that I could be denied entry if I couldn't prove I had a return or onward ticket. While waiting in line, I also realize that I hadn't filled out the pass (13b) online in advance.
No sooner had I sent it than it was my turn. I put on my poker face and slid my passport across the counter.
The border guard looks at the passport, looks at me, and says with a grin ...
"Welcome to Cape Town!"
I think it's a good thing that, contrary to all my plans, but in typical German fashion, I booked a separate flight and accommodation in Marrakesh. But I'm sure that will be wonderful too.
After my first cup of coffee at the airport, I head to the Uber parking garage. Just as I’m reading the warnings in the Uber app about only getting into cars I’ve ordered myself, a friendly employee wearing a professional-looking Uber badge around his neck greets me in the parking garage.
I get in. But by the time he enters the destination into Google Maps and I spot the SIXT sticker on the windshield, it hits me: I’ve been scammed right off the bat.
Welcome to South Africa!
Later, I learned that the 200 rand I paid in cash after refusing to insert my card into his Temu card reader was a really good deal.
When I arrived in Cape Town, a strange feeling came over me. I’d only ever felt something like this before in Cambodia. It was as if a veil lay over this city—one that not many people want to talk about.
One thing is clear: the consequences of years of slavery and apartheid are evident in the much-praised “cityscape.” Most Black South Africans live outside this seemingly wonderful world of the City Bowl District and usually only come to the city center for work. Work here feels worthless because there are simply too many people looking for it. In some restaurants, there are more Black waiters than there are guests. The CBD, as they casually call it here, is more like an international white melting pot than a place where you really feel like you’re in Africa. With the necessary cash, the city offers us everything one could possibly wish for. Beautiful beaches with gorgeous blue (freezing cold) water, hiking trails all around the city (including Lion’s Head and Table Mountain), music and culture, plenty of events, and of course wine, wine, wine—no matter which direction you head.
Maybe this “veil” is also why there are so many people here looking for an opportunity—whether it’s your jewelry, your smartphone, or other valuables. I quickly learn that the fewer opportunities you give them, the safer you are here. A few purchases of toast, peanut butter, and milk for the homeless at the convenience store later, it also becomes clear to me—if you don’t want to be approached, there’s only one thing that helps:
A sharp step and a serious look.
Otherwise, life in the city center feels like "The Princess and the Pea." Prices here are out of this world compared to Germany—and that’s without compromising on quality.
The only downside: once it gets dark, it's not advisable to walk around most areas here. However, there are plenty of Ubers available, which are safe as long as you order them via the app.
By the way, until I found out that Uber drivers rate me just as I rate them, I thought I was the best Uber customer you could imagine. Always starting with a cheerful “How are you?”, asking how business is going, and leaving a tip—here’s the sobering reality:
4.44 out of 5 …
