Road Trip to Cape Town VI

Robben Island Frame with Table Mountain as the background

Day six was the perfect day! The weather was comfortably warm and slightly windy. We woke up early but managed to leave the gem a little later than we were supposed to for our Robben Island trip at 11.00am. The atmosphere in the car was TENSE as we were trying to get to V&A waterfront as quickly as we could so that we would not miss the ferry.

Upon reaching the famous Swing Bridge, the gates closed on us whilst we were on the other side of the ferry and we ended up waiting anxiously for 10 minutes whilst ships passed by slower than snails. There was no other way to reach the ferry without passing over the bridge. We realized that we were not the only ones facing this dilemma as we overheard a couple calling the offices telling them that they would be at the ferry as soon as the bridge swung back. It honestly felt like we were waiting for forever! My mother could not hold herself together because she desperately wanted to go and this was the last day we could possibly go.

The boarding ticket to the ferry. I am Ntombi, the operator was also Ntombi.

We finally arrived at the offices and began our long walk towards the ferry. This was my first time travelling on sea water. My sister was smart enough to take a sea-sickness alleviating tablet an hour before departing, I didn't. So I made sure I sat at the back, with easy access to the toilets in case I needed to throw up.

I don't really think I needed to throw up though, I kind of have a weak mind when it comes to sickness, so I'm not really sure how I'm thriving in the degree that I am currently studying. I can discuss certain sickness I clearly do not have with people and within a day I will for sure start creating the symptoms in my head and they will start manifesting. H for Hypochondriac. I basically closed my eyes and swallowed my spit the whole way, I didn't even take pictures. The inside of the ferry was gorgeous though.

I sat behind a Ghanaian family that currently resides in London. I was so fascinated by their British accents, so I found myself listening to their conversations the whole way. It was a good way to distract myself from the sickness my brain was formulating.

This was a fully functional school after Robben Island seized to be a prison. It was closed later because of transport logistics and low numbers of students registered

I was not ready for all the emotions that the tour of Robben Island had waiting for me. We arrived at the island and boarded buses. There was a family of 35 people that filled its own bus, I didn't know that that was possible. The buses then took us to the gate at which we began our tour guide with a lovely narrator who's name I cannot remember. He took us through the buildings on the island, explaining to us the historical significance of each. He also showed us Robert Sobukwe's prison home and the told us the conditions under which he was kept which completely broke my heart. We also got to see the limestone quarry where the prisoners would work everyday and where Nelson Mandela picked up the first of a pile of limestones that is currently represented on a South African R100 note.

We had a quick 10 minute break to take pictures on the Robben Island frame. Afterwards we got back into our bus and continued the tour. We were then dropped off at the prisons where we were met by an ex-prisoner who took us through the harsh conditions that they lived in. My mother raised her hand and asked him how he mustered up the courage to come back to the very same place he was tortured at for a very long time and become a tour guide. His response was simple; "We decided to heal and move on."

Good night, ft a TABLE on my head

We then proceeded to view the prison cells. I personally feel like we should not be allowed to take pictures in those cells. There was a lady who was asking her son to take a picture of her behind the metal palisade doors, to give the effect of "being in prison." I personally felt like that was disrespectful to all the people who suffered in those prisons. Call me crazy, but when I entered some of the rooms that were not overly decorated by posters and information leaflets, I could almost hear the screams, groans and cries of previously tortured souls. I became sad.

After viewing the prison cells we then proceeded to the area where the prisoners used to take time out to relax and speak to each other. I didn't hear much about what was being said because the sun had decided to come out in full force and I decided to stand in the shade where the tour guide was a bit inaudible. I fell into deep thought though. Robben Island to me, is a place of pain.

We then took our long walks to freedom out of the area and back onto the ferry where I once again pretended to all asleep so that I could avoid throwing up.

The rest of the day was pretty much uneventful. We went back to the gem, I packed up my clothes and got ready to depart from Cape Town.