When you set out on a long journey, where do you start, and where do you end? Admittedly, the end of my journey is still uncertain. As for the starting point, it became clear pretty quickly: I’m heading to Cape Town. I’d heard so much about this crazy city so often that it was time to see it for myself.
In addition to many friends who had mostly told me about their wonderful vacations there, I knew that one of them had fallen in love with the city and had been spending several months a year working there for the past few years. A few WhatsApp messages and phone calls later, I had already booked my trip.
Now all I had to do was tell my parents.
There are many myths surrounding the city. One myth is that Cape Town is dangerous.
My clear answer after 1.5 months: It depends.
But how do you explain that to someone who didn't want to go into a certain neighborhood in Copenhagen because the State Department's website had issued a warning about shootings?
Who are we talking 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.
I arrived in Cape Town at 6 a.m. and am waiting for the immigration counters to open. I’m starting to feel nervous. I had read that I could be denied entry if I couldn’t show proof of a return or onward ticket. While waiting in line, I also realize that I apparently didn’t fill out the entry form (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 officer looks at my passport, looks at me, and says with a grin …
“Welcome to Cape Town!”
I’m glad that, contrary to all my plans but in true German fashion, I booked a separate flight and accommodation in Marrakesh, I suppose. But I’m sure that will turn out wonderfully, too.
After my first cup of coffee at the airport, I head to the Uber parking garage. Just as I’m reading the warning in the Uber app not to get into any car other than the one I 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!
I would later find out that the 200 rand I paid in cash—after refusing to swipe my card through his Temu card reader—was a really good deal.
When I arrived in Cape Town, I was overcome by a strange feeling. 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 one reason 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 brisk stride 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, you shouldn't walk around here in most areas. But there are plenty of Ubers available, and as long as you order them through the app, they're safe.
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 imaginable. I always start with a cheerful “How are you?”, ask how business is going, and tip generously—but here’s the sobering reality:
4.44 out of 5 …
