Odyssey to fun

| Friday April 16, 2010 00:00

'I'm sorry sir, your ticket has expired! Our buses to Cape Town are all fully booked 'til Saturday Sir,' said the young beautiful lady with the most fake grin ever. Heavy make-up. Doll-like looks. A smile that disappears as soon as it appears. Fast. She waits to hear my response to the bad news. Serious, again. News that threatened to end my fun trip to Cape Town after just five hours on my journey. I am at the SA Roadlink booth in the hustle and bustle that is Johannesburg's Park Station.

Following instructions that for confirmation of telephone bookings, the customer must pay two hours prior to departure time I left Gaborone on Thursday morning, April 1st, on a 'Zola Budd' (taxi - named after  that long distance athlete who broke world records racing barefoot), to Johannesburg where I made a booking for a 2pm bus to Cape Town. With just two passengers on board the Zola Budd, left Gaborone bus rank at five in the morning.

JohannesburgAt 10am, the taxi arrived in Johannesburg.  The unsurpsingly busy Jo'burg traffic around Park Station ate away my whole hour and it was just after 11 o'clock that I stood in front of the doll-like looking lady in the SA Roadlink ticket booth telling me that my booking ticket number had expired. I stood there staring at her charming lips hoping she would switch on that grin again and tell me it was just an April fool's joke.

'But....' I tried to explain, 'it is still over two hours before my...' She jabbed in, 'It's the system Sir,' now with a serious face, 'the system has expired you.' Sensing that my fun trip has hit a roadblock and this is no April fool's joke, I lost my charming look and fought for my ticket to the Cape. Somehow this worked as she told me to wait for few minutes while she left the booth. I used the few minutes to scout for tickets from other bus liners, but I was greeted by notices of 'All Joburg to Cape Town buses are fully-booked until Saturday'.

I went to another Roadlink ticket sales point, not where the doll-lady sat, this one was bigger with more tellers, I joined the queue, desperate than ever and ready to cause a scene.  When I got to the front of the queue, on the other side of the teller was another good looking young woman, and she started with her smiles. With a straight and deliberately threatening face, I told her in no uncertain terms that all I need from her and Roadlink is the ticket they offered me over the phone, which according to their terms and conditions is still mine. After asking for my ticket reference number and confirming that the 'system' really 'expired' my ticket, she whipped out a one-way ticket from  her pocket for a bus going from Joburg to Cape Town for six o'clock in the evening, and offered it to me. I did not even question the authenticity of the ticket I immediately paid and waited for 6pm.

As I had ultimately managed to secure a ticket (from the atendant's back pocket - belonging to one unlcky man called Mr P Matuna), at around 12 midday, six hours before the departure time, I then needed to kill time. I took a walk around Jo'burg's  CBD. There is something about the downtown Jo'burg hawkers that fascinates me. Walking around these men and women who look desperate to sell you socks, vegetables, second hand clothes, nail cutters, electric irons, cosmetics, cooked meat, pornography movies, pirated music CDs, cellphone accessories and new clothes of almost all the designer labels, shouting and begging at their uninterested clientele, really mesmerise me. I always wish I could photograph these hawkers around those dirty streets with human urine, but each time I am fearful for my life and camera. Walking these streets on the last day before the holidays is an event. I reached Carlton Centre and thought movies will be a good idea.

The only movie that enticed me was The Book of Eli, starring Denzel Washington and Gary Oldman. I bought a ticket in spite of the movie being 20 minutes on - I knew the story line anyway. After The Book of Eli, like Eli I carried my backpack and hit the road, not 'west' as he did, but towards Park Station to wait for my bus to my holiday destination.

After two hours' delay due to heavy traffic, the bus at long last arrived in Park Station, and boarding was swift. At eight o'clock the coach left Johannesburg Park Station and headed southwards to the Mother City - my fun destination. A female voice from the speakers welcomed us on board, thanked us for choosing Roadlink, announced that our estimated time of arrival was 2pm the next day and wished us a safe journey. I made one call to a friend of a friend in Cape Town informing her about my soon-to-come arrival, surprisingly she gladly told me, 'call when you get here' - which I took as an offer of accommodation.

Cape TownEighteen hours later, just after 2pm on Good Friday, the bus pulled up at the Cape Town station. After a few calls and tough fare negotiations with  a Zim cab driver I pulled down at my Cape Town host, Boitumelo Seitebatso. Quick shower and I was ready for the Cape fun. Probably as a sign of good things to come, Seitebatso's housemate proposed a toast to welcome me in their house - Black Sambuca shots. My plan was simple, to attend the 11th Cape Town International Jazz Festival (CTIJF) and enjoy Cape Town. Dubbed 'Africa's Grandest Gathering', CTIJF is an internationally acclaimed festival with over 40 international and African bands performing in two days from five different stages. Visiting Robben Island, climbing Table Mountain and standing on the Cape Point were also on my to-do -list, but not as crucial as the Jazz show.

After confirming our CTIJF tickets with one of my friend's friend in Cape Town, I was free to enjoy Cape Town, knowing I have access to a sold-out international jazz show. I left with Seitebatso, who was eager to assist me to have a great time in Cape Town, and the first stop was Waterfront shopping mall to check tickets for a ferry to Robben Island. A reminder of my previous night hustle for bus tickets, we were told that trips to Robben Island were fully booked until April 7th. Little disappointment on my part. We then took a cab to Table Mountain where I wanted to ride on the Table Mountain Aerial Cable Car. We got another setback as we missed out on the last car uphill. It was time now to get a feel of Cape Town nightlife. We had dinner at Banana Jam Trenchtown pub - a Jamaican hang out with live reggae band and delicious Jamaican cuisine over drinks. Then we club-hopped until the early hours of Saturday morning. Saturday we took a train to the Strand beach for some swimming and a little beach fun. In the afternoon it was time to hit the Cape Town International Conference Centre for Day One of the main act. The 11th Cape Town International Jazz Festival - 'Africa's Grandest Gathering'. Later in the night when George Benson was on stage doing 'An Forgettable Tribute to Nat King Cole', Seitebatso told me how the Jazz Master reminds her of the first hour of her radio show she used to present on Radio Botswana on Sundays titled Styles of Jazz, whose listeners I happen to be one of up to this day. It dawned to me right there, that here I am sipping on some good American whiskey, watching George Benson live, the same legend that Boitumelo Seitebatso, whom I am standing side-by-side with, used to play on Sunday, while I would be reading weekend newspapers. Maybe it was just the Jack in my blood, but the feeling, I guess, went a little closer to what Miles Davis said he felt when he first heard Diz and Bird back in 1944 - 'The best feeling I ever had with my clothes on'. And it was only Day One, with one more blast to go.