South Africa: How to Eat Charred Worms, The Last Hurrah, Home Sweet Home

At the end of our trip, as at the beginning, meals take far too long. But there’s a silver lining, at least, when you get to eat worms that taste like bar peanuts and see a rugby team you have some vestigial link to, thanks to a fortnight in their home city, summarily dispatch another while you eat.

South Africa and America are really not that different.

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Sometimes things just fall into your lap.

After a day spent picking up souvenirs from the market (and, I swear, playing mini-golf a hundred feet from the water in Cape Town), we, as a group, went out to find a place that would have spicy, perhaps Indian food that would go well with our wine.

The first place our driver took us to was closed, but our driver took the liberty of talking to the owner, who he apparently knew, to confirm this for us. That was nice.

The contingency location was also closed. But, to the infinite credit of our driver, he talked to the proprietors, still in the restaurant. And to their infinite credit, they served us.

And they served us a full meal of Cape Malay cuisine.

And they served it while they were putting on a birthday part for a family member.

And it was unequivocally the best meal of my life.

We tipped as well as we could. And we’ll never forget the food or the hospitality. That night, our last in Cape Town, we learned that kindness and understanding are universal.

I certainly won’t forget the view, either.

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Yeah, I still hate flying. That is all.