Cape Town, Day 3

Another beautiul, sunny day here in Cape Town! Not to make anyone jealous or anything! Is everyone ready for your daily dose of low-res photos? Rob has indicated he would like to lead you on our journey today.

Good All Hallow's Eve to you all. Here in the southern hemi, it's called Hallow'Een. You still dress up in a costume, so Jessica and I dressed as hobos to join in the festivities. We went trick-or-treating to three different places.

We started at a big vineyard called Groot Constantia.

We took a wine tour and our "Trick or Treat" cries were rewarded with glasses and glasses of wine - two reds, two whites, and a nice tawny port.

Jess drank three of these barrels and we were escorted from the premises.

Here we are (l-r): Jock of the Bushveld, Rob N. Island. Remember, we're hobos, and those are our hobo names.

Next, we wandered to Kirstenbosch, the world's first botanical garden. It is a sprawling green estate perched upon the slopes of Table Mountain. We trick- or- treated around the estate and received the gift that keeps on giving: nature.

The grounds contain lakes, forests, streams, grassy knolls, and even a rickety old railcar (where we felt most comfortable, obvs.)

This is a Protea, the national flower species of South Africa.

Here's Jock of the Bushveld having a face-off with the king of all Proteas, the King Protea. Jock wins by a nose. 'Cause she's got one.
We then stopped past the University of Cape Town, where yours truly once matriculated. There I am on the steps of knowledge, pretending to know things.

These are several buildings on campus where students learn/fornicate. (not sure if they're classrooms or dorms).

It's hard to learn when you've got such a beautiful vista to gaze out upon. (see Safari Steve gazing at right. No learning going on there.)

This is the international building where I took the lion's share of my classes. Being in Africa, lion's share takes on a different meaning. One devours you if you skip.

An institution of "Higher" learning?

This condemned sty is where I resided for a spell. As to why it was condemned, I plead the fif. However, it's been over nine years since I lived there so it couldn't have been all me, could it? Whatever. I did do that graffiti though. CK is for Crazzy Knife, my old gang name. Yes that's how it was spelled, mom.

Being Hallow'een, children are allowed to take liberties with others' property. To wit: our travels delivered us home at a late-ish hour, and when the neighborhood kids visited 41 Bokkemanskloof Dr, Hout Bay (our crashpad) and found us not home, they sprayed shaving cream on our mailbox to punish us. Or more specifically our mailman. They must have thought he was harboring us for the evening. Later, I saw one of the kids and he was dressed as a purple-belt in karate. Way to aim high dude.

Well, it's time to dig into the spoils of our trick-or-treating. We'll be without the 'net for a few days, I'm informed, so until then -- everybody now -- "Spring Break!!!!!"