Steve and Cathy's Blog

Amanda

We awaken this morning around 6:30 well northeast of Kimberley … at least we hope we are, because we are to enter back into the real world today. We are scheduled to arrive in Pretoria at the Rovos Rail complex around noon, and we are hoping that this will happen, because we then must double back to Johannesburg by bus to the airport, where we then fly to Durban.

The first view out the window tells us that we certainly are no longer in the Great Karoo. There are huge farms with maize (i.e., corn) and other crops as well as cattle to be seen grazing. It’s evident that rain falls in much greater abundance than it does southwest of Kimberley. We are now on double track railroad (it was pretty much single track from Worcester to Kimberley), but it seemed there were many stops during the night for whatever reason.

And the unscheduled stops are getting more frequent. We get ready for the day, with the train lurching every time it has to slow down and lurching again when they get the go ahead to roll. Taking a shower is a bit of an adventure, but hey, a shower on a train? That is luxury, so we don’t really have a complaint.

We decide to start packing. In fact, we pretty much pack completely, leaving our bulging heavy suitcase open on the bed as we head for breakfast around 8:00am. Another fabulous meal, of course, mushroom and cheese omelet, scrambled eggs, back bacon.  By the time we get back to the room, Thuli has already made our room up. God knows what she did with the suitcase while she made the bed, but it is now closed and placed neatly on the bed. Unbelievable service every single step of the way.

After around 09hr00 (I know it seems pretentious to use their time designation, but I think it adds to putting us all in the moment on the train), we start to wonder why the heck the stops. It is starting to get more populated, and we are due to pass through Johannesburg by late morning, so perhaps this has all been planned for. We are starting to see why Johannesburg is considered the business capital of South Africa. Some of the industrial complexes are huge and bespeak of heavy industry. We are also seeing abandoned factories, similar to what you see on the Northeast Corridor outside of Philadelphia.

I start to speculate as to the reasons for this deindustrialization. One is similar to America’s: manufacturing enterprises (and the jobs that go with it) moving offshore to Asia. Africa’s seaports packed with containers attest to that. The other reason is pretty much speculation on my part. I believe that back in the 70s and 80s, when South Africa was digging in their heels to maintain apartheid while the rest of the world pressured them economically and diplomatically to abandon the practice, there was a concerted effort to make the country industrially self-sufficient. With that oppressive system relegated to the ash heap in 1992, the country was “opened up” economically. At the same time that the Asian Tiger was making industrial inroads globally, South Africa was no longer the world pariah. This excess industrial capacity, dependent on a closed economic system, went south.

At any rate, the closer we get to “Jo’burg,” the more industry of every kind we see. I even spot a huge Caterpillar plant, with huge road construction machines parked outside. Such an amazing contrast with Cape Town. Having grown up in the Brass Center of the World, I am really in my element.

Another thing that we notice, and we have seen this throughout our rail journey, is that every house, rich or poor, has a high wall around it. Not only that, but the high wall is, as often as not, topped with either barbed wire or electrified fence. In Cape Town people dispensed with the barbed wire and/or electrification, but every house is surrounded by a wall. Elsewhere, every house, be it a humble little cottage or a 3,000-square foot mansion, has a wall and additional protection. We saw it in Namibia as well. Apparently such is life in a developing country.

The train tiptoes slowly into the city of Johannesburg. We see long commuter trains full of people, the stations packed with people waiting for other trains. We note that South Africans are a bit more casual about safety than we are. We are stopped at one place for about a half hour because the electric power is down. Dozens and dozens of people are walking up the tracks along side the train. What are they doing there? Where are they going? We see commuter trains go by with the doors open. We even see a couple of guys standing on the couplers between the cars.   People are sitting on the platforms with their legs hanging over the side, right where the trains are going to be coming. Cathy speculates that there must be way fewer lawyers in South Africa that in the U.S. I mean, it’s not like the overstuffed commuter trains of India, where you see people hanging off the sides and riding on the roofs of the cars, but it is kinda casual.

After at least two half-hour delays, we inch our way though the city and are on our way to Pretoria. We travel through the suburbs of both cities, the train stops one more time outside of the capital city, and South Africa Rail turns the train over to Rovos Rail. An adorable steam engine is attached to the rear of the train and tows us in their beautiful complex. It is now 12:55. We are welcomed with a final champagne cocktail as we disembark and find our luggage. The staff of the train is already busying itself readying the train for its next assignment, while station staff bids us adieu.

Now I haven’t mentioned it before, and I should have, but the Oceania Eight, as I call us eight passengers who booked this journey through the cruise line, are accompanied by a delightful, friendly professional named Amanda (her picture is at the beginning of this post).  She works for Akorn, a division of Abercrombie & Kent, the worldwide travel agency through which Oceania made all the travel arrangements, from the bus that picked us up in Cape Town to take us to the Radisson Blu to the bus that will finally take us back to the ship in Durban. She met us at the Cape Town station, stayed with us through to Pretoria on the train, and will shepherd us through the Johannesburg airport, at which point she will fly back to Cape Town.

Amanda is now our guide, and she gathers us up and on to the bus to Johannesburg, where we are to check in for our 3:40 flight via British Airways to Durban. It is now 13hr15, which is a damn shame, because, had we reached Pretoria at the scheduled 12hr00, we were to tour the Rovos Rail facilities, another Stevie-heaven destination. Because it can take either twenty minutes or an hour and a half to negotiate downtown Pretoria traffic, we must forego the tour.

Fortunately, we sail through Pretoria and are on the N1 to the airport in no time. Amanda entertains us by making word comparisons. What we call ketchup they call tomato sauce. A pickup truck is a bakkie. A traffic light is referred to as a robot. Interesting and fun.

As far as the highway is concerned, we could be on the Massachusetts Turnpike (Except they drive on the left. Come to think of it, they do that in Massachusetts too, but not legally and, thankfully, not all that often). The road is smooth, eight lanes wide and … and … they have EZ Pass!! Except they call it E-Toll. It works exactly the same way, with overhead equipment reading the transponders in the vehicles – just like the Mass Pike. So we are at the airport right at 14hr00.

The bus drops us right off at the terminal, where additional people hired by the travel agency grab our bags (or not, as we wish) and we all follow Amanda. We have to walk quite a ways through this beautiful and spacious terminal, and we are told by Amanda to make sure our bags are locked before we turn them over at check-in. We’re all Americans, and we have to advise her that none of us have locks for our luggage because it’s not allowed in the US. We have begun to see these kiosks operated by A-Teck (Airport Technologies and Services) that offer wrapping services. For R80 (about $US6), they shrink-wrap your suitcase! We all hem and haw as to whether we should or shouldn’t bother to do this. Amanda offers to pay for it, so the deal is made and we all have our suitcases shrink-wrapped against theft. What a concept!

Yet another person meets us all at check-in. At this point, Amanda’s job is done and she can go no further as our next step is to clear security. We all wait while M & J go to pay for their overweight suitcase, then we are sent to security. But not just the ordinary cattle-chute security line like in the States. No-o-o. We are ushered though the airline crew easy-peazy security line. In minutes we are on our way to Gate D3, with forty minutes to spare before boarding. We have got to hand it to Oceania. No detail escapes their handling of their guests.

We board the British Airways 737-800 at 3:25. Luck is now starting to smile upon us. The plane is far from full. Cathy has seat 11A, I have 11B and Kreg Roth, who is a really husky guy, has 11C. But by the time we sort ourselves out, Kreg has graciously moved to another row so I can have the aisle seat and there is an empty seat between Cathy and me.

And there’s more!!! Not only has British Airways graced is with at least six more inches of legroom than on US airlines, but they serve us a sandwich and cookies for a snack along with a soft drink on a 55-minute flight! In economy! Alas, we are in Durban, South Africa in no time. We land, and in no more than ten minutes from touchdown, we are seeing our luggage coming out to us on the baggage carousel. Can this be really happening?

In Johannesburg, Amanda has told us that a person named Shiny Bright will be meeting us at the Durban airport to take us to our hotel. Sure enough, there is this very pleasant former Brit with a sign that says Oceania on it. She is as pleasant and competent as Amanda said she would be, greeting us like long lost cousins. The 20-passenger bus is a short walk from the terminal, and off we go.

As has been the case with all our escorts, she is charming and full of information. She is very, very proud of her city, and she is both optimistic about the country’s future and in accord with the present political structure. As a member of the middle class, she has not only accepted the demise of apartheid, but also welcomed it. As all do, she admits that there is much work to be done, especially in the area of education (blacks were, shamefully and systematically, completely denied education during apartheid).

Shiny (a nickname almost since birth because her last name is Bright) describes the area through which we are driving. It is the outer reaches of Durban, a place called Umhlanga that is a new development filled with hotels and night life. She is all kinds of excited that we are staying at the Oyster Box Hotel, and that certainly heightens the anticipation of our stay there.

We arrive at this magnificent hotel around 5:00pm and are greeted warmly as we exit the bus by several staff dressed in khaki outfits and pith helmets. In other words, exactly the way the Brits did way back when. They look fantastic and set the tone of this accommodation very quickly. Inside we are offered champagne and canapés as we check in. We stand around chatting for a few minutes as the bags are sorted out and we all agree that Shiny Bright should pick us up at 9:00am tomorrow, so off she goes.

Cathy and I are in awe. This is absolutely the coolest hotel we haven ever seen. No wonder our travel agent Judi Gallagher was so effusive in her praise of the place. It is relatively small, with only 86 rooms and suites, and only has three stories. We find out later that it was originally a small group of chalets by the water and had been allowed to run down. It was purchased by a chain named Red Carnation that took these chalets, connected them and turned the place into a luxury hotel.   There is no way I can adequately describe this hotel, but I will post a few pictures that we took of the interior. And a trip to oysterboxhotel.com is worth the time. We are in room 211, which overlooks the Indian Ocean.

After we find our room and our suitcase is delivered, we decide we need to do two things right away: 1) tour the public areas of the hotel and 2) find an ATM to get some local currency. Steve grabs his camera and off we go. This is like a tourist attraction in and of itself. It is located right on the ocean, right next to an iconic lighthouse, in a very safe area with a large beach for swimming. There are three restaurants, a spa, swimming pool and many other amenities. We wander around taking photos for about fifteen minutes, and then figure that we had better get some money while it is still light out.

Cathy gets directions to an ATM that is inside a convenience store attached to a gas station right up the street. We take care of that task, walk down to take some photos of the lighthouse, and head back to the room. The heat and humidity are oppressive, and prompts Steve to take a shower when we return to the room.

On our way out, we had passed the Grill Room and decide this is where we should eat. By 7:00pm, we are ready, so we walk down to the restaurant. Well, actually we walk up some stairs, then pass by the elevator, then down some stairs, pass by the elevator on the other side, and walk down some more stairs to the ground floor. I mention this to give a sense of the design. Because the hotel was created out of a series of chalets, it’s a little confusing at first, but we figure out how to navigate it pretty quickly.

The Grill Room is quite elegant and very quiet as there are few patrons, probably because it’s early by luxury hotel dining standards. Cathy will elaborate:

This is quite probably one of the most luxurious and delicious meals I have ever had. I had said that the food and service on our ship was as good as the restaurant Per Se in NYC where Christina took me two years ago for my birthday, but this was simply extraordinary. The service was quiet and efficient. Steve ordered a bottle of SA chardonnay. One of the appetizers was “Trolley Choices R190.” About $15. I asked what is this…the waitress wheels over this cart about the size of a shopping cart with revolving trays on it with just about every cold hors d’oeuvre you can think of. Sliced meats, pates, little tiny deviled eggs (god knows what kind of bird they were from), shrimp, mussels, clams, cheeses, little tiny veggies all beautifully prepared and presented. It was amazing. But also on the menu were roasted oysters which I ordered. Eight big suckers with a lemony sauce and caviar sprinkled over the top. Steve can’t remember what he had! Then a tiny “palate cleanser” consisting of a tiny raspberry and vanilla yogurt on a tiny stick. Main course, I had a seafood medley thing with SA lobster half, mussels, shrimp, scallops, a piece of perfectly cooked grilled salmon. Steve had grilled kingklip, a type of Indian Ocean fish, very mild and sweet. The waiter (we must have had 3 people serving us) then served vegetables with the two-spoon method that were beautifully arranged in a serving dish. Broccoli, tiny carrots, tiny corns, cauliflower, green beans, each one perfectly cooked. Then for dessert we allowed the waitress to convince us to have crepes suzette. Yes as dorky as that sounds. The maître d’ prepared them at our tableside. It was a hoot. All told about two and half hours of fabulous eating in a beautiful unique hotel in a gorgeous location. One of the highlights of our trip (so far haha!).

It’s been a long day in a train, and a bus, and a plane, and a bus. We are pooped, but very gratified to have spent such an interesting day without any hitches. And we are especially happy to have the privilege to be staying in such a premier hotel. Sleep comes easily.