Africa's not for Sissies

Chapter 21: The Mountain and the Hospital

In the morning, I told my "mom" I was going to climb Table Mountain.

"Do be careful," she said. "More people have died on that mountain than on Mount Everest."

"They have?" I said. I thought she must be joking.

"Yes. The weather is very unpredictable."

"I also vant to climb zis mountain."

I turned to see Ulf walking towards me.

"You should go together," she said, "safety in numbers."

"Sure," I said. I couldn't very well refuse, and anyway, I liked Ulf. I just hoped he wouldn't take off his shirt in front of the girls.

As promised, the girls soon arrived. Once they had checked in and dropped their packs, we headed off. We took a rikki to the base of the mountain as it was cheaper than a regular taxi. I didn't know what a rikki was, but I soon found out. If a motorcycle had sex with a golf cart, a rikki would be its offspring. The driver rode the motorcycle part, and we all crammed into the cart part. I didn't think we could all fit, but the driver assured us we could, and somehow we did. I clung on, white knuckled, as we screamed along the highway at speeds in excess of 100hm/h, which I was surprised it could do. We felt every bump, as the seats were unpadded and there were no shocks, and I'm pretty sure the exhaust vented directly into the passenger cab. As we wheeled around corners, we all did our best to hang on and not get tossed out onto the highway.

"Who do you think will fall out first?" Annie said, laughing, as we teetered around a corner.

Emma coughed and waved her hand in front of her face. "If the fumes don't kill us first."

The side panel I was clinging to broke free in my hand. I was pretty sure my face was as white as my knuckles by this point, but we arrived safely.

Our plan was to hike the backside of the mountain, make our way across the "tabletop," and take the cable car down. With hundreds of paths to the summit, Table Mountain was said to be the most climbed peak in the world. We chose the Skeleton Gorge route, a steep but scenic path. I noticed storm clouds rolling in soon after we set off.

"Maybe we should go another day?" I said, and pointed at the clouds. "I'll pay for a regular taxi to get us back."

The girls considered this.

"I go," Ulf said. "I don't mind go alone."

"Let's go," Annie said.

"OK, why not," Emma agreed.

They all looked at me. What choice did I have?

The clouds were a blessing at first, as they provided us with relief from the sun as we zig-zagged our way to the top. They were high enough that they didn't obstruct our view, and we were treated to spectacular vistas from every "corner." To the north, the city center and harbor stretched out beneath us and the Atlantic twinkled endlessly into the distance. To the west, behind the Lion's Head, the mountain range known as the Twelve Apostles stretched along the coast. To the east and south, the Cape Flats and southern suburbs sprawled into the horizon.

The mountain was covered in fynbos (Afrikaans for "fine bush"). The southern tip of Africa is classified as one of the six floral kingdoms of the world, which means there are many species of plants here that are found nowhere else. Apparently it's botanically more diverse than a rainforest, but I'm no botanist, so to me it was just a bunch of prickly bushes with pretty flowers. In many places the ground was still blackened and scorched from the recent fires, but already we could see tiny germinating buds emerging from the ashes. The plants here had evolved to survive in soil that was very low in nutrients. Fire recycled those nutrients and some seeds even required the heat of a fire to germinate.