Sunday, June 15, 2014

A photographic tour of the neighborhood in which I was left behind as a human security deposit

Johan and I spent our first day in Cape Town wandering about a semi-gentrified neighborhood called Woodstock, which, I guess, one always feels like an ass for doing, because gentrification really is a two-cheeked thing.

One minute you feel kind of rugged and good taking the unbeaten path and investing your tourist-$$$ in a hitherto neglected part of town. The other minute, you feel like such a predictable doofus for spending time in a shop selling owl-printed ceramics and artisan nougat.

But hey, since this is not a particularly socially conscious blog, let's just go for it and take a culturally insensitive stroll through this really lovely and colorful neighborhood.

Misstep #1: First stop we made was in a discount grocery store where we admired the design of the generic brand Ritterbrand and bought a few samples of pineapple jello to bring back home. Buying food solely because of their aesthetic properties has to be pretty much THE most asshole-y thing to do. Especially if you document the process with your huge D-SLR.  







Incidentally, Woodstock is also the home of The Test Kitchen - the sole African restaurant that has made it onto the list of the World's 50 Best Restaurants. As luck would have it, we managed to bypass their 3-month wait and do a walk-in for lunch on account of someone just having cancelled their reservation.

Now, eating in a place like this is usually completely out of my price range, but thanks to a world economy and an exchange rate that are completely in our favor, we had the privilege of of experiencing a 5-course lunch with wine for two people for an indecently fair price. (Less than $100.)

And, as we were sitting there, savoring our luck for getting a table at this amazing place, who do we bump into but one of Johan's friends! (Seriously, what are the odds of meeting a fellow dane sitting down to lunch in the the exact same restaurant? Well, considering the guy is living in Pretoria, I guess the odds are greater than I make them out to be, but still!)








And, as we were sitting there feeling on top of the world for bumping into familiar faces in a fancy restaurant, God said from above: "Hey you two, don't be so cocky and full of yo'self. Have you even checked to see if you brought your credit card to pay for all this nonsense food, which honestly looks a little like cat barf?"

Of course we hadn't. And so Johan had to leave me behind in the restaurant as a human security deposit, while he drove back to the hotel to get money.

And that, my friends, was the end of our first day in Cape Town.

2 comments:

Johan said...

Ahem, ok, jeg kan måske drages til ansvar, men bare til historiebøgerne, så tilbød jeg at tage opvasken for at afskrive regningen. Siden hvornår er det holdt op med at virke?

Sarah Carlson said...

Jeg synes efterhånden dine dad-jokes sidder lige i skabet :) Og jeg ka' li' det!