Joe and I got up at 5:00 this morning to go back to Inanda. Joe wanted to photograph the housing settlements there in the early morning light. I was excited to come along, although sad to miss breakfast at Essenwood House.
We spent four hours driving up and down steep, narrow dirt roads – filled with schoolchildren and people walking to work – stopping periodically for Joe to get out and shoot the stunning landscape. I wish I could show you some of the photos he took, but that would give away his identity and probably get me sued by the news agency he works for. So here are a few of my own shots instead.
On the way back to Durban, we drove along a high ridge. To our left stretched the 1,000 hills of Inanda, covered with huts and shacks of all sizes. To our right were gated communities, mansions, and condos overlooking the crystal-blue Indian Ocean. It’s the same stark contrast that I’ve seen over and over since arriving in South Africa.
Our afternoon was the opposite of our morning. Joe drove us down to Wilson’s Wharf, a newly developed strip in Durban’s huge commercial port area. We parked next to a dock filled with luxury yachts and ate sushi at a small outdoor joint called the Oyster Bar. Then we drove along the water and admired the funky art deco apartment buildings that Durban is famous for.
The last stop of the day was the Southern Sun North Beach, a 32-story hotel along Durban’s “Golden Mile.” It’s one of the tallest buildings in Durban and has a nicely landscaped rooftop pool with beautiful views of the city. We spent some time up there and used the fancy marble bathrooms.
We concluded the evening with takeout from a Thai restaurant near our guesthouse called the Bangkok Wok. The food was very good, but the waiter neglected to put chopsticks in the bag even though we specifically asked for them. We had to eat our curried rice and noodles with tiny teaspoons. Damn you, Bangkok Wok.
By the way, I haven’t had a Durban bunny chow yet. The Indian place we went to last night didn’t have them! I still have 36 more hours to find one.
How have I never blogged about 44 Stanley Avenue, the coolest shopping and dining complex in Joburg, which is only five minutes from my house?
I guess it’s wrong to say I’ve never blogged about 44 Stanley; I’ve mentioned it countless times over the years (see here and here) when writing about specific restaurants or shops that are there. But I’ve never written a dedicated post about 44 Stanley as a destination and it’s about time I did – especially now, with the holidays upon us.
I’ve been dreadfully uninspired lately, struggling to think of anything I want to blog about despite having a long list of great ideas (many of which you, my readers, provided in September). I’m finding it hard to feel positive about life at the moment. But on Saturday Thorsten and I got the chance to visit Indwe Park, an indigenous garden and sculpture park in Braamfontein, and I knew I had my topic for today.
Given this week’s political nuclear bomb blast, it feels like a weird time to publish a light-hearted post about my recent (pre-election) jaunt through the United States. But I’m hoping you’ve have had enough of the U.S. election horror show – I know I have – and are ready (at least temporarily) for some wholesome American travel adventures. If so, please read on about my four-day visit to Maine, the northeastern-most state in the lower 48, with my sister, Susanna.
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It makes me smile, when I see it.