We spend the day wondering the streets of Cape Town. There have been a lot of warnings about walking about,and perhaps we're naive, but we feel pretty safe and don't feel at all threatened on the main streets. The people are really friendly - telling Mr Jones he should take pictures of me instead of trees and advising us to visit various museums (which we don't do out of sheer laziness).
We walk through the city gardens and visit the castle. Mr Jones tells me off for constantly paparazzi-ing everything - including him. We annoy market stall holders by looking and not buying and then have lunch.
As it's our honeymoon we decide that it's perfectly permissible to take an afternoon nap and read books until dinner time - so we do. Dinner (always my favourite part of the day) is at Beismillah a Cape Malay restaurant that specialises in Malay curries.
It's in all the guidebooks so when we arrive we're slightly surprised at the decor. This is not your usual touristy restaurant. The carpet on the floor looks like it came from someones lounge in 1968 and the ceiling is clad in some kind of shiny corrugated metal-look plastic. The seats are covered in the fabric you find on coaches and there are plastic mats on the tables. It smells good though and there are a few tables reassuringly full of locals.
Trevor - again our driver (today he is buying a new flat from which to run a new business and house his grandchildren) had recommended the Chicken Curry - so I have that and Mr Jones has a mutton version (I thought it smelt like wet dog - but he said it was tasty). The menu invited us to eat with our hands and I was all for it, but much to the delight of Mr Jones they gave us knives and forks - clearly thinking we'd make too much mess. So we stuffed down our curries and knocked back a mango lassi each. We ordered pudding - some kind of cakey thing with custard which was lovely, until I reached the tapioca at the bottom and the frog spawn texture put me off.
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