The Daughter went to South Africa again, specifically Cape Town, from early July to mid-August. Only late in her previous trip in the first half of 2025 did she discover how easy the train system is.
Part of the appeal is seeing the beaches more often than when she was attending classes. She went to Muizenberg and Kalk Bay. She particularly appreciated the fisheries at the latter locale. Also, she visited Table Mountain again, Victoria Wharf, and Cape Point, among other sites. There were lots of penguins and some whales.
She said that she only went to the clubs twice. She was never IDed because the drinking age is 18. Once, she went to Barcadia, “Cape Town’s first and only Retro Bar Arcade. Arcade games were included for free when purchasing from the bar.” She discovered Amarula and directed me to buy a bottle in Albany if I could, and I did; it’s not dissimilar to Amaretto, but I may like it better.
One cultural phenomenon she noted is that people were generally paid only once a month, on the first Thursday. As a result, many cultural entities, such as art galleries, opened much later. My daughter noted that the cadgers were more aggressive, more in one’s face, than they were in, for instance, New York City or Albany.
Planning ahead
She booked two places to stay back in late December. The first place was mostly fine, though she noticed some mold hidden behind some drapes in the last of her four weeks there.
Her second place, also booked on Booking.com, was far more complicated. When she arrived, she was told that her booking had been canceled because they had stopped using Booking.com in February. But she hadn’t received any notification.
After considerable negotiations with the rental official, they eventually found her another place to stay on their properties. My daughter doesn’t particularly enjoy conflict, but she didn’t feel that the rep was listening to her.
As it turned out, the refrigerator did not work. Another one was brought in, but it didn’t fit into the space it was designated for. The water from the faucet left her mouth sore; she boiled it, then refrigerated it, and it was tolerable.
(Much of this was documented in a 25-minute WhatsApp message to my wife’s phone.)
To get to the swimming pool, she had to go through a restaurant. She found no towels, so she went to the main desk. When she attempted to go back through the restaurant, she wasn’t allowed because she didn’t meet the dress code, even though she had a blouse and shorts. Instead, she had to return to the room on the 8th floor and change to slacks.
One thing she did with a friend I met last year was compare American versions of various foods that they could buy at an import store. They found a South African version of Froot Loops cereal, which my daughter thought was “nasty” and her friend decided was “too sweet.”
She told me a lot more. I’m sure she’ll say, “Why did you leave THAT out?” Mostly for time and because I can’t read my own handwritten notes.
The joys of using credit cards abroad. Shortly before my daughter went to South Africa for the college semester, I ordered another copy of my credit card with my daughter’s name on it so she could use it there. While it didn’t always work, despite my call to the issuing bank, it was a largely workable system. But then, I received an email from the bank in mid-March.
Last we 