Cape Town, My City.

Running from change

This is the start of Christmas. Our office braai begins in T-minus two hours and fourteen minutes. I have been looking forward to this particular braai for over two weeks, counting the days and hours as they slowly rolled by. We have chosen a forest that I hope will not be too windy, as the week has been full of the usual Cape Town summer gales which my scooter shows no love towards. My silly hat is ready and my liver is charged, aching to be poisoned by fine wines and ciders.

It has been a tumultuous time for Cape Town recently. Another wave of protests sparked intense hostilities from the taxi drivers, griping about being left out of the governments new, cheaper transportation plans. What did they expect though? Every day I see plenty of insane drivers careening over the road like drunken fools. Sure, they get people to their jobs on time but in their haste to become the kings of the road, they have turned into parodies and are avoided by other drivers as their dangerous swerving knocks us out of their pathways. Heed them no lamentations, this is exactly what was needed and with some hope, this will curb their reckless behaviour.

T minus ten minutes now… Safari Tours have nothing on the excursion planned for us.