Robben Island

Robben Island "welkoms" you.

On the Monday, we travelled over to Robben Island, holding place for many apartheid-era political prisoners, including of course, the main man, Nelson Mandela. We had to hang around a while after buying tickets, since there was a bit of a backlog for the ferry, but after a meal of very large burgers, the boat took us across the five or six miles of water to the island.

Our tour guide was an ex-political prisoner and really knew his onions, offering us a humorous (yes, really) tour of the island, with plenty of information and anecdotes about what it was like to live there involuntarily. We started the tour by bus, followed by a walk around the cells where prisoners were incarcerated. We then travelled to the individual cells, including cell number 7 where Nelson Mandela lived. Because of our lack of sight, the tour guide allowed us into the cell – a rare privilege apparently. My thoughts on the island (though not the prison, which was suitably grim) was how beautiful the island is, with its views across to the Cape. With its white limestone and eucalyptus trees, it was rather like a desert island. But would like to live in the harsh conditions of the prison cell and hard labour? Nope. I think had we arrived during a storm, I may have left with a different opinion. I’ve been to Kilmainham Jail in Dublin, and that place was a true representation of grimness. Apart from the physical humiliation of having to move loads of lime from one place to another…then back…then back again (there was no real work for the politicos to actually do) I think I could almost enjoy the environment here, though not the incarceration.

An evening of wandering around the Waterfront again, followed by our final eats at the Kraal restaurant bought our stay in Cape Town to and end. Tomorrow would be the mammoth trip to Pretoria on the Shosholoza Meyl train.