Ridin' on the Highway

South Africa is a stunning country, and you’d want to see it all in a day. But how do you get around? Is it safe to drive, or should the Cape Town car hire companies be left for the locals that know what they are doing (to a certain extent…). Have no fear, it’s not that scary.

There has been a lot of bad press lately about how dangerous South African roads are, and that you can’t trust anyone on the roads. However, I’d like to put this point to you. If you believed everything you read on the news we’d soon go crazy with threats and bombs and disease and scandals. Certain things need to be taken with a pinch of salt, and this includes the danger in Cape Town in terms of car hire. Cape Town is a dangerous place, but then so is any city. You shouldn’t leave handbags on your passenger seat because the thought of money in a flashy bag is too great a prize for a starving person / criminal. It just so happens that in Cape Town, a culture exists of beggars and hawkers which stand by traffic lights, and so the threat of having your bag pinched and your window smashed increases with more people at the intersection.

Hiring a car and driving in South Africa is a great way to see the country, and it’s thoroughly recommended. However, you should treat the rules of the road in the same way you treat them at home. South Africans can tend to drive a bit like maniacs, but then again any rush-hour traffic in any city can be manic. So please, do your research on the road rules before deciding on a Cape Town car hire company.

Goodbye, old friend.

I once had a lovely little car. Nothing fancy, just a champagne-coloured 1400 Golf. No power steering, no air-conditioning, just the basics. The only thing that set him apart from the myriad of other Golf’s littering the streets of Cape Town was the fact that he was mine and that I was paying the monthly instalments with my own money earned with my own blood, sweat and tears. We had a good run, Aragorn and I. We had lovely trips up the Garden Route, to my grandparents in Bredasdorp and my parents in Riebeek Kasteel. Not once did I encounter a flat tire, an unwilling battery or a troublesome starter motor. Smooth sailing, really.
Imagine my absolute shock and horror when I walked out of my cousin’s beautifully appointed flatlet in Upper Woodstock to find that Aragorn had been nicked. Gone – a’ la poof. Along with my gym bag containing my trusty running shoes, my favourite pair of ski pants and the one shirt I own that can withstand sweaty Yoga sessions without revealing any lumps and bumps. The experience was quite disconcerting to say the very least.

I proceeded to ring up the Woodstock Police Department to get a case number. Living in South Africa I didn’t really expect them to find Aragorn; he was probably being hacked to bits or spray-painted a different colour at the time in any case. I simply needed the case number so I could start the very tedious and needlessly complicated process of having the insurance company provide the very service I pay them for – providing the money to buy a new car. Four nerve-wrecking hours later the police van showed up, took my statement and left, leaving me without any means of getting to work. Woodstock is not really a neighbourhood you want to go walking around in and taking a taxi is equally dodgy. Cape Town car rental companies offer some very nice deals, but not knowing how long the insurance company would take to process my claim I didn’t want to saddle myself with that extra expense, lest I had to pay a hefty surcharge.

In the end the parentals came through and provided me with a Toyota Tazz to get me around in the meantime. Not my favourite car, it kind of looks like someone stepped on a Golf, flattened it out and then stuck an unnecessarily long snout on it. It runs well enough though, so I can’t really complain.
This is my homage to Aragorn. I miss you buddy and I hope the dumbass that nicked you is at least treating you to regular oil changes and window washes, although I highly doubt it. I also sincerely hope they enjoy Nouvelle Vague, The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Edith Piaf and the Amelia soundtrack since those are the treasured CD’s I lost to their little crime spree. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrgggggghhhh!!!