Cape Town - Robben Island should be on everyone’s list to visit. In fact it should be at the top of the list of heritage sites – ahead of Table Mountain or even the Union Buildings on Meintjeskop.
On a recent visit to Cape Town it was still on my “to do” list. I booked on-line for the 3½-hour tour. The manager of my B&B told me to head for the Clock Tower at the Waterfront but that place seems to have mushroomed.
“Parking is easy,” she said. However, when I finally arrived, road-works and front-end loaders blocked easy access. Eventually after stowing my hired car away underground, I popped out into fresh air and there was the clock tower. With five minutes to spare, I puffed my way inside another building to find queues galore. “Oh the ferry is late. No worries,” said a helpful Australian standing in line.
I duly joined a queue full of chattering tourists who happily stood and waited. I was covered in embarrassment. Here is this world-famous heritage site and we had to wait and wait. Finally we slowly boarded our catamaran. You climb steps from the dockside; over the side of the craft and down the other. I have not experienced anything similar since climbing a stile to get from one field to the next as a child in the English countryside. We saw those with hip problems successfully negotiate disembarking on crutches!
The 7km journey took an hour, fortunately with fairly smooth sea conditions, which enabled me to watch for dolphins and maybe whales and birdlife from my perch aloft on a wooden bench. I cautiously ate a sandwich. Lunch had now been long forgotten with our 2pm departure. We finally sailed into a newly built harbour on this tiny 5.18km² to disembark.
We think of the island as being the long-term prison of Nelson Mandela and other enemies of the apartheid regime but it is far more than that. It has featured in history books since 1731, even then for political prisoners, and subsequently as a whaling station. And it was once a leper colony.
All this was explained by our tour guide aboard one of two school buses as we drove around the island for 45 minutes. The guide asked for a show of hands of the country of origin of his passengers. There were hands raised from more than 10 different countries. As a resident South African, I raised my hand for South Africa although I am British by origin. And I was the only one.
The island has a wild beauty about it with flowers among the grass and sand dunes and in the distance the coast of Cape Town, emphasising the impossibility of escape.
We mostly know about Robben Island because Mandela was imprisoned there for 18 of the 27 years he spent behind bars.
We soon climbed down from our bus to meet a Mr Sparks, a former prisoner who served time with Madiba. Our first stop was “F” section where 60 prisoners lived in one room with no bedding to speak of. A thin mat was all they had. Only after 1969 and an inspection from an overseas agency did they install bunk beds.
Prisoners rose at 4am to have cold showers. If they did not they were put in solitary confinement with no food for the day.
There was no glass in the so-called windows.
Mr Sparks showed us a board showing how coloured prisoners (who were housed elsewhere) were treated with regard to clothing and food. African prisoners had far less clothing and were fed a meagre diet. They were barefoot and wore short sleeves and shorts throughout the year. Only when overseas inspectors came around did it change – for that particular day only.
Earlier, we had seen the limestone quarry where they worked during the day. They congregated in a small cave for a break at “lunchtime” where Mandela and others who were literate set about teaching others to read and write. Education was the saving grace of that dreadful incarceration.
In Section C we were showed Mandela’s cell. I asked Mr Sparks, as we silently filed out into the open air, how big his cell was. He answered, 2m x 3m.
Despite problems in South Africa that we grumble about daily, let us be thankful that this amazing man could be set free after all those years of incarceration and terrible deprivations to lead the nation into the dawn of a new era.
I haven’t even begun to describe the suffering he must have gone through; it is too grim for words. Nor can words express the atmosphere while wandering down the long line of prison cells and seeing those concrete exercise yards – a small patch of ground for a 30-minute (yes, only 30 minutes) football match once a week.
I was a more grateful, humble person as a result of this visit. I am amazed there are no hotels or perhaps more humble places to stay. What if the ferry-load of tourists were stranded? It took us 1½ hours to return in extremely rough sea conditions. Don’t plan to be catching a plane that evening.
I felt the tour was too rushed so it would be better advertised as a full-day trip. Perhaps more visitors and a few words to the right will jack up the service just a touch and make it an easier destination for the visitor to enjoy in comfort while also taking in the wilderness areas.
Maybe others would say what is a bit of discomfort given what prisoners, including a number of our past and present government officials and leaders, Walter Sisulu, Mac Maharaj, Jacob Zuma and others, had to endure?
Saturday Star