False Advertising (a short one)
Blog: Africa Attraction - 17 September 2009
By: Olli
Contrary to the city’s name, not many people wear capes in Cape Town, which is disappointing. I didn’t have time to enquire why because: one, people would clock me for an idiot straight away (I like to pretend I’m not for as long as possible); and two, I only had enough time in Cape Town to get the bus to my hostel on Long Street, shower, eat zebra and chips, and go clubbing with a gaggle of tall Swedes on their gap year.
Half crippled with a hangover, I then pulled myself out of bed to catch a 24-hour bus to Windhoek, where I’ll meet my fellow men of the road, Giles and Davy, get in a car, and drive back to Cape Town...
I should have thought my plans through a little better. Oh well.
Half crippled with a hangover, I then pulled myself out of bed to catch a 24-hour bus to Windhoek, where I’ll meet my fellow men of the road, Giles and Davy, get in a car, and drive back to Cape Town...
I should have thought my plans through a little better. Oh well.
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