Mother City Visit: Leaving under a cloud

Well, despite my doom mongering, Cape Town appeared to only suffer cosmetic damage, although the wind did take down trees, which in turn
took down power lines and causing widespread electricity outages.

Sunday continued to be "changeable" and within minutes the weather would alter from bright sunshine to dark clouds and driving rain. The wind was a constant though through out the day.

I managed to get an occasional view of Table Mountain, but for the most part, this was obscured by cloud or rain. And so it came time to head back to Johannesburg. Arriving for my flight in good time, I was greeted with the cheerful news that flights between Cape Town and Johannesburg were severely delayed. It appears that the foul weather in Cape Town and strong wind in Johannesburg had caused several flights to be delayed. I head in fact that a truck delivering cargo to one plane had been blown into the engine, causing major delay and the plane to be replaced with a fresher model.

My flight was delayed by 90 minutes. The best thing to do was just to tuck into a Juicy Lucy sandwich and watch the second hand tick by slowly. Eventually I was persuaded though to check the information being reflected on the flight information televisions, and was informed that in fact the flight was leaving at 8:20 - not 9:10. Give it was 7:45, this meant I could board within minutes. Rushing through the x-ray checks I was greeted (in a motley tent arrangement currently doubling as the departure lounge in Cape Town) by a long queue of people going through my gate - but none of whom were going on my flight. Apparently my flight was NOT leaving at 8:20 after all. Dejected I started mulling over what words I could put into my next blog post to fully relay my frustration - a dark cloud hanging over my head now similar to that which had smothered the peninsula all day. I roamed aimlessly in front of the counter at the gate, hoping that any moment my flight might be called and I could return home - late, but at least be home.

And then a very kind and extremely helpful lady working at the counter saw my plight and called me forward. I explained to her that I was not booked on the flight that she was loading, but having checked if I had check in baggage, she very kindly made arrangements for me to board the earlier flight. Like the sun that had (on occasion) broken though the clouds throughout the day, my spirits lifted.... I was going home!

The only thing better than that was the announcement from the pilot informing a plane full of weary travellers that the tail wind would shed 30 minutes off the 2 hour flight. So all in all I arrived 10 minutes later than originally scheduled. Tired, but relieved.

My trip to Cape Town had been rushed, busy, and far too short - but I was home at last.

Mother City visit: Relentless rain and driving winds

There’s a moment of silence now. The kind of silence that gets louder with each passing second, until once again being broken by the roar of a Northerly gale against the window of my bedroom.

It is 6:30 in the morning on Sunday. I have been in bed since last night – I couldn’t tell you how much of that time I have actually slept.

The storm which, for the whole of Saturday had been touted as “the worst is yet to come” by locals, eventually struck around the time I went to bed. For the whole night the wind has tried to remove the roof of my parents house. Rain – and more recently hail – has hammered against the window pains with such force that the sound has become just a constant roar of noise, a cocophony of rattling, hammering, beating and banging as the water is thrown against the glass by the raging wind.

I have just looked outside the window – fearful of what I might see, but the sun appears to have been too scared to wake up this morning, and it is still dark outside.

Cape Town is already soaked to the skin from a very wet winter, and the ground is very close to saturated. I cannot see how the rain of the last 7 hours could not have caused flooding – and possibly severe flooding. And I cannot see how the wind has not caused damage to homes and businesses – and particularly to those living in the informal settlements around Cape Town.

I am in a brick and mortar house in Tableview – and I feel fortunate to still be in Tableview, and not to have been transported to Muizenberg like some modern day Dorothy.

It would be a miracle of quite some order if the Mother City has come through the night with just minor damage. I fear what dawn’s light may reveal.