It was early. We got up. We ate and left for the Kenilworth Station. We took it all the way to Cape Town. And from there. At Thibault Square. We went on a bus to the waterfront. The waterfront stretched along Table Bay. To a ferry. Is where we walked. It took us out of Table Bay. All the way to Robben Island. At the island. Another bus. It drove around the island for a while. Discussing and stopping at important things. The famous prison. Is where we stopped. Someone who once lived there. Showed us all around. 200 meters. To the ferry we walked. We got to the waterfront. And then we walked to the bus. Thibault once again. Though different now. We walked to a lunch place in Greenmarket Square. Ethiopian food was what we ate. And we walked back. To the train station. And rode it back to Kenilworth. And we came home and the poem is done.
Skipping back in time! Oh, and you can see how my poem was not really a real poem.
|Alrica, Carver, and Syarra at the V&A Waterfront in front of Table Mountain in Cape Town, South Africa|
|Erich, Carver, and Syarra at the V&A Waterfront in front of Table Mountain in Cape Town, South Africa|
It is interesting. The way you eat is similar to Indian food. They have spongy breads (which I didn’t like) that you pick up food with. It also contains of lots of sauces. There is a handwashing ceremony where they bring a teapot-looking thing and pour warm water on your hands over a drainage pot. They dump out a big platter of food on a plate covered in the bread. You really have to try it. The table is wicker and is shaped like a bowl sitting on a cone. The drinks all came with lime slices which is ironic because I got lemonade (not limeade). Lemonade here is carbonated and clear. The food was good and we got lots of different things to share. The food was okay but the culture was very interesting.