Leave Part 2: Stellenbosch

In travelling to Stellenbosch, a mere 20 km or so from Cape Town I had several options. I could have taken a taxi, but that seemed both extravagant and timid. Extravagant because of the cost, and timid because it would be very safe and easy with no chance of being lost or mugged, or both lost and mugged. Not that I'm looking for ways to get lost and/or mugged, but solo travel needs a little confusion/fear to keep it interesting. So taxis were out. I could have rented a car, but I planned on visiting wineries, and although drunk driving has a long a storied history in South Africa, I did not want to join the list of stats. So that left some form of public transit. Buses were too confusing, and I'd have my gi-normous camo suitcase with me - a definite hindrance on a bus. So I opted for the train. Now guide books are full of compliments for the main commuter line of the Cape Town train system that goes into the southern suburbs. Not the train I would need to take. Of other trains the guide books used terms such as "Yeesh!" "If you must" and "we warned you." Undeterred I bought a ticket to Stellenbosch for 13 Rand (almost $2, first class, of course) and schlepped off to find the platform - and failed. My train was not posted, and as the departure time approached I became paranoid that my train was at one of the other 15 platforms in the station. So I patrolled back and forth while checking the display that seemed to have listed trains to non-existent destinations: Narnia? I went back to the ticket booth and asked which platform I should wait at, as it was now a mere 10 minutes till my train was to depart. The lady at the booth told me what she had several times before and I headed back to the original platform, where a train had magically appeared and was about to leave. I rushed onto the last car and the doors shut behind me.

Now I don't want to criticize the South African railway authority, but there are a couple of things they need to look into. First lights in the train cars - you should have those. It was daytime and all so it was not as if I was hurtling along in the dark, mainly because we were not hurtling. The train took two hours to travel the 20 km to Stellenbosch. Many stops, all unmarked and unannounced. I did have a system map on which to rely, so I counted stops and noted that if the train did not make a particular turn I would end up going many kms out of my way, and would have to fall back on that extravagant and timid means of transportation discussed above.

But the train did pull into Stellenbosch station after which I walked to my B&B - The Oude Meul (Old Mill). The owner met me and let me in to a very comfortable room in this centrally located B&B. The only other guests were from that exotic local of Barrie, Ontario - I asked them if they had zebras there. It was still early on my first day so I walked around the old Dutch part of the town and booked my wine tour for the next day. That night I ate at the Wijnhuis, an amazing restaurant in the centre of town. I had a great selection of wines, but more importantly the best Insalata Caprese I've ever eaten. Those of you who know of my Italian travels will recognize what a momentous moment that was. I use the Caprese as my barometer for restaurants. Good Caprese = Good restaurant. The reigning champion was Da Marina in Enna, Sicily. To knock them off the Wijnhuis had to do something amazing as the salad is very simple but so demanding. It is just sliced tomatoes, mozzarella cheese, and basil drizzled with oil (olive of course) and balsamic vinegar. Though simple there are many ways to mess it up - and I've had them all. Cold tomatoes, whipped mozzarella (Olivea in Kingston - for shame), non-buffala mozzarella is a common fault; unfresh basil and tasteless vinaigrette are others. But that night in Stellenbosch the stars aligned and a new king of Caprese was crowned. But I digress...

The next morning I toured the town museum, which is actually a series of old houses from different periods of the towns history. Strating in the 17th century, you walk through the houses that are made up in period furniture and artifacts. Each house also has a guide in period dress who explains the period to you (the historical period I mean, not the punctuation mark).

After that trip through the ages I was ready to meet my wine tour. A minibus picked me up and took me to a hostel where we met the rest of the group. It was a very international crowd: three Argentinian guys, a Japanese man, two Dutch girls, two German girls and a pair of Australian women- and me. The Aussies were teachers beginning a six week bus tour of Africa that would take them to Namibia, Botswana, Tanzania, and Mozambique before returning to South Africa - I was exhausted just listening to them. We started off at the beautiful Tocana winery and our guide - one of those, never grew up 40 somethings living the good life in the sun types, explained the wines to us. We visited three more wineries and had lunch in Franceshoek, the French Huguenot town in the region - real baguettes! I did experience one challenge unique to being on leave from Afghanistan. Since I was going back there I could not bring any wine with me. So any wine I bought I would have to drink/share along the way. I usually bring back several bottles when I travel to Italy or France, but this time I kept having to fight the urge to buy at each winery. After the trip around the wineries the Aussie teachers and I went to dinner and sampled more of Stellenbosch's finest - I think it was three bottles, I could be wrong.

The next morning came rather fuzzily and later than normal as I had one last morning in Stellenbosch to while away. A relaxing coffee and croissant while reading the paper passed the time and I was soon on my way to the airport for the next stop in my travel - Bloemfontein.