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Tabytha Towe Diaries - That Vancouver Girl in Cape Town

Tabythat Towe's Diaries

'You could walk from the sea, through the city and up to the mountains in a couple hours. What more could you want?'

Tab sailing off Camps Bay

I always wanted to go to South Africa ever since I was a child, for my mother had lived there 23 years ago prior to my birth. I was born in Canada but she told me that if she hadn’t married my father, (not that anything was wrong with him,) that she would have brought me back to SA to raise me.
Therefore, I always contemplated the possibility of what my life would have been like if she didn’t marry him and she did bring me up there. Wow there is so much to ponder and contemplate on that idea. As far back as 7 years old she always told me stories that made me want to go there so bad. I knew she missed it.

I knew no one in SA yet, I knew I had a half cousin living there whom I had never met, but had wanted to meet my whole, entire life, but that was about it, and I kind of liked it that way. No one knows me either then. My sweet mother however, a week or so before I left, somehow got in touch with her ex-boyfriend of 30 years ago who still resides in Cape Town. I think he actually found this magazine and got a name then figured it out from there…
Somewhere along the lines they had arranged for him pick me up from the airport, in which he did so in his proud Alfa Spyder which practically got hit the second I sat in it. (Don’t worry the car is OK.)

From then on, as soon as my foot met South Africa’s’ land I was alive again! That numb feeling seemingly just dissipated into the new air. It was so hot and the sun was gleaming over the mountains, it was all that I had anticipated, especially having come from Vancouver where it had finally -yet ironically- snowed the day I was leaving.

So my mother’s ex (Grant) put me up the first night. Within an hour after my arrival we went to Constantia and I was fortunate enough to meet some very wealthy and important people in very high places. I was lucky to be welcomed into some of their houses and be able to explore their precious gardens, and I tell you they are bloody gorgeous and massive. I mean what does one do with so much yard?

This is my first day and already my new acquaintance was informing me of the many Captonian ways. Educating me about the politics, controversies and its history. My God there is so much to learn about that place, you can’t even begin to fathom the half of it. I don’t know a quarter of it yet. However, it seems that the truth is quite flexible, for everyone has their own opinion and story to tell about Mandela, Mbecki - the AIDS epidemic, the black and white issues, schooling, trades, economy, the government, homeless, the list goes on and on. Hearing some of this intrigued me yet also saddened me at the same time, but I had an urge to know more. It doesn’t ever stop. Africa is the oldest country in the world and in some part of our ancestry we’ve all originated from there. I don’t know how much I can say safely, being a tourist and only having the knowledge of but I can say that being there was an eye opener and even a heart opener. Yes, it is different and it is a developing country but it is absolutely amazing and we have such a misconception of this place.
Now I am only speaking as far as Cape Town goes, because that’s all I really had the time to see, but sometimes I’d actually forget that I was in Africa.

Tab and some new drinking pals
Sometimes it even felt like Vancouver to me, like home. Cape Town is a WONDERFUL little city (and I say little because everywhere seems so close) with a beautiful shore line that follows along the coast silhouetting around it with white waves and blue beaches. Then you look up to the calm, velvet feathered sky and see these prominent mountains standing firm and proud, rising casually over the hectic city below. You could walk from the sea, through the city and up to the mountains in a couple hours. What more could you want!? As for business and economy it is developing more and more, the tourism and film industry seems to be growing, there are travellers everywhere who want to do everything from shark dive, paraglide, to climbing Table Mountain or visit one of the many vineyards.
There’s a movie being shot somewhere almost everyday. Actually, through a very dear friend of mine who was working on a particular film - I got to meet Lou Diamond Phillips and Mr. Coolio himself at a cast and crew party! I was hoping I’d get in on the action some how, perhaps be one of those extras that could walk by on the street or even work on set as the coffee bitch; but I suppose they thought they had enough "Americans" on the production already. Oh yes there was another misconception, what people thought of Canadians! The things we all have yet to learn about other parts of the world…

Tab with Lou Diamond and a pal

First and foremost it was very important for me to meet someone. Finally and very fortunately, I got to meet a guy I considered in a way my long lost cousin. Well come my first encounter with my new found cousin, Dominic. Immediately I felt close with him and we got a long charmingly. He is so great and we were both pleased that we actually have cool family members, especially after all this lost time from each other. He’s rather similar to me in some ways we realised. He’s laid back, enjoys a good time, very loyal and just as stubborn as I am. What a pleasant surprise, although I wasn’t surprised that we’d get along.
The first night out I took off with him to a comedy show his friends were performing in which was absolutely hysterical, I almost pissed myself! Then we played pool where I managed to sink only one ball that was my own, and went to his friends bar where I met some of my cousins crew.

Apparently there was an unspoken rule that everyone I got introduced to had to shoot tequila or whisky with me, so at the end of the night I was a complete gong show and realised that I had no idea who I was talking to all night. I knew I probably had a lot of nights like that coming up yet. Trust me there were quite a few many, staggering adventures!
You kind of adapt to the tricks of the trade when you make mistakes. That first night I had a mobile phone and money stolen from me, which was really my fault, because I was drunk and negligent. My purse that was blatantly abandoned on a table in the corner, go figure. I learned later to keep it on me at all times, you do have to learn quickly about certain little things, or simply use common sense. That’s all you need to get by in life anywhere, self assurance helps.

When people ask me if it was dangerous, well sure it is, but so is every other place. Vancouver has some dodgy areas too, but no one warns you about it. I never once witnessed a mugging or rape or beating, although I could have, easily, except that I also learned to be careful about what areas to avoid either alone or in darkness. I seemed to get around without much hassle by myself, however I am a complete wander lust and for some reason am attracted to trouble, yet I was still fine. I mean I had to run from a guy in Woodstock (which is kind of like a ghetto suburb) who wanted my water one day, so I had to decide to either give it to him or fuck off. Well I did what I did because I was so dehydrated and my blood sugar level was so low that I could have blacked out in the middle of the street, so I did what I thought was sensible. I was fine after I was able to drink my water and sit down. See, you have to make spontaneous judgment calls sometimes, just hope they are wise ones. I’m just glad I actually out an someone really, I kind of run skew and it’s a pretty funny sight. That is why I don’t usually run, unless being chased of course.

I also got lost a couple times. That first day in Claremont was the worst because I walked around barefoot on a scorching hot day in which I definitely learned my lesson and I managed to find my way too - some way or another. "Lady, where are ya shoes!?" Locals were laughing at me. Do I remember that day well. It was painful and embarrassing.

Other than a few mistakes which are inevitable and typical of a foreigner who doesn’t know any better, I think I caught on enough to be safe. At times I did feel alienated because I was walking around alone, but never felt unsafe. Although I do also believe that people can make themselves victims. I choose not to be so.
Besides, Cape Town is not that dangerous compared to Johannesburg for example, where crime is the norm. Ok so a lot of nights were spent "partying" if you will, especially in Observatory at my friends famous shop, where we somehow always ended up at some point. There’s always somewhere to go and have fun, even on a dead night. In town there are many local bars where the cool people go are until all hours of the morning

I loved the pubs, bars and lounges they have, they are all so authentic and different, whether it be atmosphere, architecture, art or décor, they were very cool places to either chill or get rowdy. I didn’t even go to any big clubs because I didn’t need to, the social scene was big enough without it. Plus I heard that they are very high school and I wanted to avoid that kind of crowd. Of course I did get to go to a strip joint, but a classy one. Sorry, a ‘gentlemen’s club’ rather. I spent most of these endless, drunken nights with my favorite cousin and his tight circle of friends who soon became mine as well. They were all so welcoming and accommodating to me. They were nothing but sweet the instant I met them, I couldn’t get over it, nor was I used to it. They didn’t have to give two shits about a stranger, but that’s the way they are and not once did I feel awkward with them or excluded from them. I’m so glad I got acquainted with such wonderful people in my life.

A Stellenbosch home
To be honest, the friends I made really are the reason why I had such a great time. Without them it would never have been the same. They are so unique and kind and so much fun! I miss them already!Nonetheless I’ll see them again one day when I return. I think I said around 2005 they would find me back there. We’ll see. Ha! I even left a (hate to admit, but an inexpensive) bottle of wine at one of their houses with a very adamant label saying that it shall ONLY be opened for that special day I return! Thought it was kind of a cute idea at the time.

While I was in Cape Town for my short stay, and I say short because a couple months simply weren’t long enough for me. (Trust me I should have stayed longer, there was so much more to see of South Africa). I was fortunate to experience many festivities that makes it so compelling. Festivities such as the annual International Cape Argus Bike Tour in which thousands of dedicated cyclists from around the world came out to ride through treacherous hills and narrow roads for hours on end, some even doing it over and over again each time they crossed the finish line. Fucking hard core these crazy cyclists!. I’m drinking beers watching them zoom by thinking about how intriguing it is to see how many people participated; whether they were locals or from afar, from young to old and with either health problems or medical conditions, I mean it was amazing. I’m 20 and should be in decent enough shape, yet I can’t even ride a bike for half an hour without getting a slight heart attack. I’m not the most athletic anymore, smoking doesn’t help, but wow, what an inspiring event. Even I went bike riding after that, in which I did black out from the effort sad to say, but it was worth it just to say I went after so many years. I also made it in time for the last few games of the World Cricket tournament. I admit I never paid any attention to it before but it was all I heard about when I arrived. It is a huge world sport and there were tourists from all over who had come to see this. Meanwhile, I believe it took me a week just to figure the damned game out. I didn’t even know we had a Canadian team. Cricket seems like a big deal for the country, however I didn’t get into it, but South Africans have not seen ice hockey before either.

There were some other gigs happening too, like the annual Long Street Festival (I found the street to be quite short actually, considering I walked up and down it almost everyday.) People just poured into the street drinking and smoking, dancing and free-styling. A lot of hippies and Rastafarians, and basically everyone who wanted to have a good time came out. It was a cool crowd. I had a fun for three nights on Long street, shaking my ass, stumbling with two beers in hand, rolling in the hay with my friend (that almost got us set on fire). Lots of running up and down, constantly checking out the scene, absolutely high as a kite, getting a lot of strange peoples phone numbers. The next day I’d look in my book and wonder where I got them from, wondering who these people were? I think every city should have street festivals, it brings people together in love and unity.
OK maybe not so much so, but it can be fun to have once in a while. Man there was too much going on, Jazz fests, art shows, all kind of events that tourists like me would like to do. I didn’t end up making it to most because everything costs. I managed to spend what I had extravagantly quick, which left me quite limited with certain activities I desired to take part in. It’s too easy when you’re on holiday. Of course I could have been a little more prepared financially for I simply have no restraint on my budget. I love dropping hundreds without worrying about it, but then within two weeks you’re eating one sandwich a day. Beer or bread? Sacrifices anddecisions. Hmmm. Responsibility is as much a choice as happiness is. Anyways enough of that.

I was very grateful to be able to go on some tours. One in particular was a township tour that I will never forget or perhaps never fully understand.
Now I have a lot of mixed feelings on the situation, for I have never been exposed to that kind of living before. In South Africa it is a well established way of life for some, in fact for many. There are townships spread everywhere consisting of, oh god knows how many people, on these seemingly deserted slabs of waste-land they call home.
I am quite sympathetic and compassionate, yet I didn’t cry. I don’t know if I was shocked or what, it was a surreal emotion. Though now I’m glad I didn’t get all teary, I don’t think it wouldn’t have been appropriate and I would have felt shameless in a way. mYou see families living in poverty and unstable conditions in a shed probably 12x12 ft. or so, like the size of our bathrooms in which they do not have, made out of metal sheeting or anything else they could find and use. Some may have a concrete building that they share amongst other families, but that is if you could afford to at what they said to be was R9 a month. (R means rand, which is SA money. One Canadian dollar bought R5.6 at the time.)

Obviously there are no kitchens so food is cooked out of garbage bins. There are skinny puppies falling over and scavenging for scraps of food left on the ground, little children dirty and hungry in torn clothing, busy mothers and fathers working hard in the sweltering sun, no medication or hygiene into consideration, it was so raw and real. All the while you take pictures as if they are a circus act, yet all the while they remain smiling. Maybe not because they like us, they know these tours bring them some benefits, but at least they seem hopeful, hopeful that their living conditions will get better for them one day.

I did leave feeling guilty, but accepting as well, for I apprehended that harshness as a part of life. There is not much I could do about it, even if I did give the shirt off my back. There are too many people who need help. Instead I learned to appreciate what I have a lot more, that’s for sure. I couldn’t even contemplate the possibility of having to survive like that, yet I have also had a taste of what else is out there, whereas they haven’t known anything else. However, there is only so much that the tour guides can show you and we saw only what they thought we should see, but it was enough for me. The sick thing is, not only that it is a huge concern for thousands, but that I wished I had more film on me so I could have taken some photos of it.
On a lighter note I did an incredible tour of The Cape Point. It was so refreshing and lovely. The view was astonishingly crystal. There was no way my camera could capture the half of its beauty. It can only pick up so much for part of the beauty is closing your eyes and feeling the gentle wind captivate your body. Stand and smell the smooth, sweet air of the salty ocean with its distant waves crashing against the cliffs like a violently whispering echo.

Tab overlooking the City
During the day I decided to take a dip in this water hole to cool down. It was so inviting I couldn’t resist, even if I was wearing jeans that I knew would be wet and cold all day from going in. Floating on my back I almost fell asleep, not able to notice that baboons were everywhere trying to scavenge food off the rest of my group. I acknowledged this when I heard something splash in the water where people were throwing rocks at them. Oh speaking of which, I will never be able to lose the disturbing image of what I saw that day…I saw a baboon, a-hem, I saw a baboon fucking masturbate!! Eeewww!?

| I don’t want to elaborate for you in detail what it was like but I can tell you it was creepy (I almost feel violated!) It’s just one of those things where you don’t want to look but have to.

I also went on a long awaited shark tour that I was very excited to do! When else would I be able to see these mystical creatures in their natural habitat? Of course much to my luck before I even get into the cage and go in the water I get horribly sea sick as soon as we drop anchor. Apparently my face just went completely flush white and from then on I couldn’t stand anymore and swayed myself down to a seat. I couldn’t really talk either because I had a breathing rhythm to relax me. My God I have never felt so nauseous in my life, nor have I ever gotten motion sickness before. What great timing. I wanted to vomit as if I had just downed a 40 pounder of bourbon, but I couldn’t let it out. It was a miserable experience, I didn’t get to play with the sharks and I spent the whole boat trip basically tripping out because I took these pills that made me feel worse. That was really upsetting, my poor friend did me a favour to get me on the damned tour in the first place so I felt exceptionally guilty. Oh well, I saw a fin at least and I can still see the sharks again when I return, that is if they’re not all hunted by the end if the season.

While I was away I had a lot of time, (amongst the festivities, partying, wondering, tours and dinners) to figure out what I like and what I am really like. This would take half an hour for you just to read and I’m sure you have a creative enough imagination to have an idea of what kind of person I am by now, so we won’t go there, but I will tell you one thing made everything seem so clear to me. In the past I haven’t always been the most confident, therefore I did let myself get taken advantage of on many occasions. I was constantly questioning and trying to analyse every aspect of things, which could be a positive tool, however it is very powerful and usually ends up stressful rather than useful. Answers are never definite, for there are so many different perspectives, so I got frustrated often because I felt so lost. My insecurities made me inhibited, which probably explains much, so I wasn’t completely honest with myself. I didn’t take enough time out to enjoy the simple things in life, I always rushed through it thinking I’d get more done quickly, but ended up missing what mattered anyways. I was already looking for something else instead of enjoying what was there at the time. I needed to slow down, take a step back -or forward actually, and take a deep breath. This is why I started to feel numb again before I left. I let myself fall into that vicious, agonising attitude towards my underachieved life. I wanted to feel again, feel love, pain, anger, fear, passion, anything, if it hurts, then at least it’s real and it is mine. Just anything but empty, which I knew I was not, I am sometimes too deep for my own good. Part of this emptiness originated with the talk of war which made me sick and despise humanity.

Samantha at the beach
Coming to a country alone, not knowing what to expect, feeling excitement, wonder, curiosity and even anxiety in a way, being away from everything and everyone you know, seeing new things and being an inexperienced traveller, you really start to accept and enjoy everything. It’s a funny sensation, but it is a sensation no less. I had to learn a lot on my own, like not to pack a huge suitcase if you know you only have to cart it around everywhere. Backpacking is reliable enough I’m sure, but come on I’m a girl man! Ah yes, that fucking suitcase ...
Coming to a country alone I embraced one of the glorious pleasures of travelling alone. Not only could I do whatever I want, when I want, where I want without being hassled by anyone else’s plans, I was single again for the first time in years. I’m only 20 and I have only been single now?
I had a tendency to have one boyfriend (or at least some kind of not-so-healthy relationship) one after another and another. I left no time for myself to breathe, there was always someone in my bed. I was always so wrapped up in the package of relationship, it freaked me out a little. Not all relationships went sour either, in fact none are really bitter endings, some of the guys I still talk to, just not that often, and it works out just fine as long as we have a mutual understanding and without hard feelings. But having just split up with someone you’ve been with for a year, (your longest lasting relationship to date- my god I went insane. My eyes were feasting. I looked at all these beautiful, good looking people frolicking around like pieces of juicy meat. I couldn’t stand it, I was looking at attractive people with single eyes again and it was so awkward for I felt like I should be guilty, but then the giddiness kicked in and lust took over and I felt as if I was going to explode. I seriously felt like an eager virgin again. I was a vicious prowess without even realising it. I thought I could keep it down and conceal my natural, ‘femme instincts’, but obviously I didn’t do a good job at hiding it.
Although I felt wrong because of my latest boyfriend being so recent and still caring about him, I eventually acquiesced. I gave up denying the fact that I am a young woman on holiday and uncommitted. When does a chance like this happen?

But now there were too many options, how do I play this game…safely? I had forgotten! I can pick up boyfriends reasonably it seems, but I don’t want a boyfriend, so how the hell do I go about this again?
It didn’t take long before someone came up to me, thank god, cause I didn’t have a clue. (And before I go on I just want to clarify something here: I did say I was going to be more honest in my writing and not hold out on particular events in which I have done in the past, however, this is my private life I am sharing with the public and for those who don’t know me might perceive me as someone that I may not be. I don’t know you either, so I don’t really care too much what you think, otherwise I would never do this in the first place and I am sick of worrying about what people think. I’m just going to tell it straight. I wont censor a lot of things, but I wont go in detail over certain things either. So just so that we are on the same page here, I want to make it clear that I am not at all slutty, just a little lascivious at times, (depends on who’s involved,) but I am only human, so don’t condemn me for having needs, please. Just wanted to get that out of the way.)

O, so I had a couple snogs, a couple high school, more-so-drunken make out sessions with a couple of guys and that was about it. Innocent fun. My confidence surprised even me, and then I guess it fed my ego a bit while I was playing this game. Then it kind of became too much, as if I didn’t want any one to come to me. If I am interested, then maybe I’ll make a move…maybe. Well soon enough the random snogging died out, which was fine, and I chilled out for a bit. Until one day of course, I just had this magnetic attraction to someone that wasn’t completely physical. I don’t usually go for looks. I am attracted to personality and attitude. If I see soul in their eyes, can laugh with them and have decent conversation, then I’m keen, otherwise if it’s all looks and no character, then I’m out pretty quickly.

This guy was unlike any other I have met, especially his lifestyle. In fact you could say very different in the way we live our lives, extremely different, except we had some other similarities that we could relate to with each other. Fears, doubts, faith in spirituality, certain views, certain qualities - we shared our ideas and learned from each others’ mistakes, stories and beliefs. He’s my sexy Mr. Gordon’s Bay. We grew close over a month and then suddenly, as if we didn’t know it was coming, the romance had to end. I was hopeful about staying longer again, I had already extended my trip once and intended on living in SA for another few months so I could discover the rest of its wonders. I needed more time to do that, but I also needed money, so once the holiday cash flow was gone I picked up a serving job at a cool restaurant that could have got me by fairly enough. I desperately wanted to see Namibia, I wanted to go to Zimbabwe, see the bush, do The Transkie and Transvaal route. Perhaps go to Kenya, Botswana, Tanzania, or learn to surf in Mozambique. I really, really wanted to stay and nearly did, but I had other arrangements that required my immediate attention, apparently. I had to go to London suddenly, when I was not ready to. However that’s another story, tell you furthermore later.

So going back to this affair I had to end, it was very sweet. He was the last person I saw In Cape Town. He dropped me off at a bus that was headed for Johannesburg where I would soon catch flight to London. We said our goodbyes trying not to be teary eyed, (we both hate goodbyes, but really it’s see you again) said we’d keep in touch and just like that I was never going to see him the next day, nor for a while after this. I was leaving this new place I began to call home and all my beloved friends. It was very dramatic for me to leave. I think I cried for an hour after it hit me. It didn’t really sink in right away that I was actually leaving. That’s what happened the first time when I thought I had to leave, after only a month, which was originally the plan. But plans keep changing and I almost made myself sick with anxiety desperately trying to extend my trip. I was nowhere near ready to go yet. I put so much effort into booking a longer stay that the day before I was to leave an opening came up suddenly and I could stay longer. That was a happy day for me, I infected everyone with my energy! So come the second time I heard I had to leave I thought I could get away with it again. Certain matters wouldn’t allow it though.

Back in Vancouver now and still managing to remain single and believe I must, for my own good. I need to be with myself and no one else, besides I’m taking off around the world again as soon as I can afford to. As for that mysterious man, ngi thanda pica, still and always.
Africa affects you in mysterious ways:
One day, sitting on a rock upon a water fall on Table Mountain, (OK only half way up it) staring at the city ahead of me that looked so close, yet so tiny, I realised that at 20 years old I have truly done more than a lot of people I know. Some of it was tough, I brought on a lot of it upon my own head, but without the tough, nothing else would be as rewarding, such as my struggle to afford this vacation for example. I shouldn’t be so concerned at 20 feeling as if I should be where a 40 year old is. I could be doing more than I am, maybe I should have accomplished more in 20 years, but I have learned throughout my life and still have a lot more ahead of me. This is where I get paranoid and stressed about life being too short, so I rush things, then I make excuses that life is too short so why not just have as much fun as I can. I need to find a balance. You know those moments when you don’t even know if you’re thinking about or feeling anything in particular, you just are, just there, just you and just being? That just is. I appreciate those moments so much, and they come rarely. It’s about living for today, where you are, who you are, when you are. It doesn’t mean forget yesterday or disregard tomorrow, but live for today as it is happening and take it as it comes, don’t hesitate or wish it was something else, something else will always happen and then you’ll wish that too was something else. We are so consumed with getting rid of shit we don’t let the goodness in. That’s what opens us up, we are closing our own doors. Regardless if it makes you more vulnerable, it also makes you stronger. Carpe diem. What helped me remember this again was when I heard the news from back home of a recent passing of a friend of mine I have known for many years. I don’t have many of the friends from that era of my life anymore so it really hit me hard. It’s strange how it takes something such as losing someone you care about to realise that your life actually has significance.
Well why isn’t life fair? Why do things turn out the way they do? Why are we here? Why bother questioning the why?
Why did he have to fucking die? I won’t ask that because it is the way it is and I can’t explain or justify or change any of that. I can only take whatever is thrown at me, but maybe it is given to me for a reason. My friend lived a good life. I know he would want us to celebrate it rather than morn it, remember the great times we had and keep him in our memories, keep him in our hearts. He was one of those people with those intoxicating smiles that made you feel like smiling, even if he or yourself weren’t in the mood to, it was so sincere and genuine you couldn’t help but feel better and smile back. We all have our crazy stories about him or with him, he was a crazy kid. He took life by the handles and rode it into the ground. At least he rode this life. Take those chances in life or else you will miss out. I never got the chance to say good bye to him, and taking chances does not insinuate taking risks, which seem exciting at the time I know, but I also know that I never want to look back and ask myself why didn’t I do it when I had the chance. Rest in peace Tyler.

There is too much for me to possibly write about my stay in Cape Town, but I know I will always remember it. I fell in love with South Africa.
The people have such a friendly attitude, (well most of whom I came across,) the friends I made, (you know who you are,) the language (in which I find quite sexy) it’s compliments to a vibrant morning life style and an intoxicating nocturnal life style as well, the history, the city, the music, the animals I don’t get to see back home such as zebras, giraffes (and even masturbating baboons,) the culture and way of life, just the whole experience itself, I loved every moment of it. It was exactly what I needed and gave me something extravagantly significant. I discovered things within myself I didn’t acknowledge before or just ignored. I enjoyed life and want to live it successfully. The whole experience has really made a difference for me and I won’t let that go. I absolutely cannot wait to travel again. There is so much of the world I long to see, and it’s not that I am running from here trying to avoid or escape reality, it truly is that I feel liberated when I’m away from it. Like the saying goes, you appreciate something more when it’s not there. Don’t get me wrong I love Vancouver, this is my home, I’ve known it my entire life and I hold a lot of sentiment and pride for this place, but within a couple months Cape Town started to feel like a home to me as well. It’s almost as if I’ve left a piece of me there -and that is why I must go back one day. Plus I have that bottle of wine with my name on it!! Thank you soooo much to Sean, my sweet, you taught me things I always wondered about and want to get a better understanding of. I’m proud of you and I know we will meet again. Stay strong.

© Tabytha Towe June 21st 2003
(London next stop)

To my friends there:
Domino, you know what you did for me. I’m so friggin relived you are part of my family and that we can still remain friends, I almost brag about it. Take care on your journeys and come through to Canada soon before I leave, don’t worry I can take care of you, food, bed, bike, car….
Ken, Kenny, Kenya, I adore you to pieces and love hearing from you. We had some good times. It sucks not talking to you every day anymore, but be sure to keep in touch babes. Send me a photo of the love pad.
Gorgeous George, what are the ‘figures’ these days? Next time I see you sleep with one eye open my friend, the fight isn’t over just because we are on opposite sides of the world. Be a good boy now Georgie, no baboon wanking around!
Sue, Mikey and Nicola, thanks for the hospitality once again, you saved my ass. Congrats on another baby girl on the way!!! Sam, did Sean give you that card yet? I owe you R50!!! How’s the new house in Hout Bay? Say hi to Dave. Robert, still can’t believe I got sea sick but thanks anyways love.
To Cat, Zee, Moana, Marcus, Brian, Lindsey, Germaine, Warren, Stuart, Steve, Chris, Dono, Robin, Netty, Dirk, Ricardo, Janni, Tobias, Johanna, Lo, Graham, Simon, Roland, Tristan, Grant, Michael, Tombey, Kevin, Allisdair, Rob -thanks for the show and hope your knee is healed now, and any one else I missed on naming, dankie!!
You guys made my stay unforgettable.
I THANK you, MISS you, LOVE you and wish nothing but the BEST for you - I WILL see you another day.

Part One - Leaving Vancouver
Part Three- London

Previous moments from Tabytha Towe's diary:

More Lifestyles

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