I went strong to the hoop on breakfast this morning and did not fake the funk on a nasty dunk. It began with a large bowl of muesli (which, for those non cereal lovers out there, is a tasty mix of corn flakes, all bran flakes, dried coconut, hazelnuts, almonds, & honey) and milk. Shortly after, Charlene brought in a masterpiece of a breakfast sandwich served open face style. It was a couple pieces of home made bread each stacked with tomatoes, mushrooms, bacon, and topped with a fried egg. Ay caramba. The food went down smoothly with the help of two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice. By the way – if I have not already mentioned it – South Africa has without a doubt the juiciest oranges ever. All other oranges should recognize.
After loosening my belt a notch, I got in the car with Jess, Angie, and Joey and we followed Romi and Martin the place where the Diamond’s had purchased their first pair of sausage dogs. The breeder was apparently kind of a big deal and happened to have on hand the top female in all of South Africa. But there was not just 1 dog – nor 2 or 3 or 10. Instead, the dachshund flood gates opened and 13 pups ran out to greet us. It was pandemonium. They were, “so excitable” noted Martin in his proper Cape Town accent. We hung around for about an hour petting and playing with the dogs as they ran amuck and then headed out for a little bit of food. The lunch choice was a fish and chips place turned upscale sushi restaurant. It had a dark wooden patio area that overlooked the beach and we sat so as not to waste the perfect weather and view. As the sun beat down on my face I took a deep breath and exhaled with pleasure. Minutes later sashimi filled my belly and satiation added to my already jubilant disposition. It was already 3pm so Romi, Martin, and I pressed on to our final destination – Gansbaai. Unfortunately, Jess had decided to sit out the shark diving expedition due to a last minute illness that had stricken him during the night. His final wishes were that we take good pictures and refrain from dying. Knowing that Martin was almost assuredly a goner, I avoided lying by responding, “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
The drive to the hotel was pretty awesome and my eyes were glued to the car window as some seriously African scenery whizzed by. It looked like the scenes I had scene from The Discovery Channel and many baboons that we passed just added to the authenticity. Finally, we arrived at The Great White House. We dropped off our bags in the room and then followed the somewhat out of place Mexican hotel director, Pepe, to a local bar. To my delight, the English got their asses handed to them by Germany. I finished my Coca-cola classic bottle and then stepped out on the deck of the bar to witness what could very well be my last sunset as a fully limbed human.
Aside from the bar, the place was a ghost town. We tried several grocery stores to get some grub for dinner, but all were closed. So, being the resourceful team we are, we settled on a pizza place called (seriously), PizzaWorld Chicken Barrel. We got a pan pizza each and then hurried back to the hotel to down some prescription strength anti-seasickness pills I had brought from the states. The boat ride out to Seal Island is apparently a bumpy one and according to Romi the last time she went she, “had 14 vomits.” The good news is that the sharks apparently love the vomit.
It is now 7:45pm and my only goal for the rest of the night is to prepare for tomorrow by watching a renowned documentary on great white sharks entitled, Air Jaws. GET SOME!