Cape Town - Cape Town recently found itself ranked eighth in Condé Nast Traveller’s list of the top friendliest cities in the world based on reader surveys.
But what made Cape Town fare better in the rankings than, say, Joburg (much better, actually, as Joburg earned its laurels as the most hostile city) apparently had little to do with the people. Readers were quick to praise “the most amazing place on earth” for its “ideal mixture of nature, coast, mountains, and beaches” as well as its relative safety.
Condé Nast conceded to flaws in the ranking system (friendly and unfriendly are subject to subjectivity, to say the least), adding that these terms “sometimes have nothing to do with people”. Huh? Yes, Cape Town is beautiful, but coastal vistas don’t make for a friendly city. People do.
With my foray into Cape Town-living just on the heels of autumn (and the bulk of my stay in the depths of winter), points about the long, sunny days are moot.
I was told Cape Town was the best place on earth. As soon as I arrived, every Capetonian and their mother gave me the caveat to that: in summer.
Indeed, my ticket to your bustling metropolis extended through the worst three months of the year. And with windows that do little to stop the blistering winds and leaky skies from making themselves at home in my flat, my “living” experience has been less than glamorous.
Broken lifts have me routinely trekking 15 flights of stairs, and the one time my flatmates tried to go out at night minus a cab they were robbed at scissor-point less than a block away. (Welcome to Cape Town, hey?)
As a Bostonian, I know what weather can do to people. Not just streets, but personalities get soaked when it rains.
My brief stint as a general assignment reporter at the Cape Argus has brought me face to face with many a face in Cape Town: those living on the streets and in shelters, members of government and the police, people living in townships and people living on farms, protesters and activists, graffiti artists and ballet dancers.
And the only thing more puzzling than the million and a half different accents is the kindness I’ve met with on each and every story, even in adverse circumstances.
The unmistakable American lilt in my speech didn’t keep me from having a lovely interview with someone who, just minutes before, was screaming “Down with America, down with Obama!” into a megaphone in the middle of a rally.
And maybe it’s because the sun was shining that day, but I’m not so sure. Point is, Cape Town, I’ve seen you at your worst. And I’ll tell you what: it’s not your “colourful markets” and “tantalising curries” that make you friendly, it’s your people. With a winter this friendly, I’m keen to – someday – come back for a summer.
l Anne Steele is a journalism student from Boston living and working in Cape Town for three months.
Cape Argus