As a top holiday destination in Africa, South Africa is not short of activities and attractions that would keep a visitor busy all day. In this piece, Mike Alvin continues his story of how a Valentine’s Day heartbreak turned into a fun time in South Africa.
There is something about South African ladies that makes you look at them a second time, especially if you are looking from the rear. “The mound of flesh packaged like Seychelles’ Coco de Mer is simply irresistible,” said Clive, my South Africa friend from Bloemfontein. While it is convenient to look more than once if you travel alone, a second glance will easily ignite your bae’s jealousy if she’s with you because she had definitely seen it before you did; women, smh!
That was exactly what happened to me at a restaurant located in the famous OR Tambo airport in Johannesburg. Because our connecting flight was delayed for hours, we decided to chill by the restaurant. I ordered my usual British breakfast while my bae went her favourite coffee and toast. We were enjoying the meal amidst chit-chat with our new friends when I noticed the arresting resemblance in the waitress’ backsides.
Heavily fleshed and rounded, supported by equally rotund hips, I had to make a trip to Athens to get its correct description: callipygian. Like ocean waves responding to the wind, the callipygian responded to the rhythm of the owner’s feet as it caresses the floor, leaping in happiness to the sound of its music.
In Nigeria, we say such persons have ‘Ukwu Nwanyi Owerri’. I was still fixated on the rhythmic movement of each half of the derrière when I noticed another lady in a mini-gown stood up from her seat and glided towards the restroom.
Standing at about 5 feet tall with a low but partly tinted haircut, it was just impossible to win the battle not to do a double-take at her nether region.
Obviously aware that I was ogling at her, she glided like a model on the runway, each step helping her mini-gown to reveal so much to my imagination. Just like the waitresses, her derrière is so noticeable like the ‘table mountain’—but without the table shape of course. Hers is well-rounded and sexualized! Unlike the waitress’, she was more dramatic — and deliberate. Then she tapped me; as I looked into her eyes, I could read the anger. “Can we move to the boarding gate please? My bae said.
The trip from Johannesburg was about two hours, but with the glitch at the restaurant, it was a long trip as my bae and I didn’t exchange a glance throughout the flight. You know that feeling of guilt, especially when you don’t really know how to explain your wrongdoing and you don’t want to apologize to avoid admission of guilt; that was exactly how I felt.
However, before the trip, I had my plans laid out. As we walked towards the boarding gate, I sent a message to Clive (a friend I met on one of my previous trips to SA) to quickly speak with some guys in Cape Town so that they arrange for two power bikes to pick us up at the airport and take us around town then to the hotel. I also arranged with the hotel pick up to come get our luggage so that we won’t have to wait for too long.
Clive has a knack for precision, he’ll go the extra mile just to hit a target. I was still by the bureau de change stand, while bae was sorting our luggage with the hotel’s chauffeur when Clive’s call came in. “We are outside, it’s a drive-through so we really can’t park here. Call me as soon as you step out of the airport,” he said. I was shocked! Clive was supposed to be in Bloemfontein, he never told me he was anywhere close to Cape Town, but here he is!
Anyway, bae was already seated in the bus waiting for me to join her for the trip to the hotel when I came with the twist. I told the chauffeur to take the luggage to the hotel that we would join him later. Then I told bae that we’d be attending a brief meeting together before going to the hotel. “Meeting! Where! But you never mentioned this!” she said. Angrily, she stepped out of the bus and started walking through the driveway. We halted when three bikes pulled over like some cops trying to arrest us for wandering; it was Clive and his buddies.
As the three bikes meandered through Cape Town’s manicured streets, we saw other commuters popping their eyeballs wondering who we were. The ride was adventurous and exciting. I had thought we’d stop at the hotel but Clive had a different idea.
Cape Town is a particularly beautiful city. Even in those adrenaline-filled moments, we felt the entrapment of the city’s wonders. At any point, we had the mountains and the ocean in our peripheral vision. In the distance, the breath-taking view of Table Mountain and the Twelve Apostles (a line of secondary peaks) beckoned us over with the wave of a cloud. To heed the call, we pressed our pedals harder cutting through pristinely blue-skied streets, and sometimes rugged, waved-dashed picturesque Atlantic Coast. On some streets, delicious smells wafted up from the kitchen, on other streets glistering restaurants overlooking the turquoise waters of the Atlantic Ocean tantalized us with pleasant aroma.
We stopped at locations such as Adderly Street, Town Hall, Castle of Good Hope, Bo-Kaap, Company Gardens and Green Point. At Bo-Kaap we were greeted with Cape Town’s raw beauty defined by pastel-painted houses and the views of the city bowl to Devil’s Peak.
At Victoria and Alfred Waterfront, popularly known as V&A Waterfront, we were the cynosure of all eyes — at least for a few minutes after we arrived. Leaving Clive to sort out the riders, we walked to a side of the waterfront where a group of dancers were performing. From the moment we got to V&A, bae had been griming with delight, unable to keep her excitement to herself—obviously, her anger had subsided. “Mike, so this is your meeting! You brought me to SA to kill me,” she said with a bright smile. “The ride was tough, and the rider was a bad ass! The twist and turn were crazy, I thought I was going to fall off at some points,” she said.
We were still admiring the dancers when Clive came with our tickets for the cable ride. Before we boarded the cable car, we took a few photos. I thought the ride would be our chance to talk about the drama that played out at the restaurant earlier today but I was outsmarted by our co-commuters.
As the cable car rolled up to its peak, I gently rehearsed how to begin the discussion without killing the joy. I was still crossing the ‘Ts’ and dotting the ‘Is’ in my mind when the guy at the far end of my seat brought out his camera. Next, I noticed the guy seated next to me brought out a small case, he then knelt down to pop the big question to the girl sitting directly opposite him, “will you marry me”? He asked. Embarrassed, the girl screamed! But Clive saved the scene with his smile and clap. We all joined in the euphoria as the lady hugged the guy inside the compact cable car saying yes, yes, yes in a low tone, and we echoed along!
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