Cape Town Tour 2009 – Camps Bay
Thomas Crozier (AS-Level)
After having taken a 2 hour long drive to get absolutely nowhere, it was decided that we would go to the beach. I don’t actually remember the rest of this journey, as I fell asleep for the next hour or so. But I was miraculously awake once we got to the beach, despite a night of almost no sleep, what with the lumpy mattress and scratchy pillow cover.
Once we were at the beach, everyone piled out of the bus. After a brief speech from the teachers warning us to stay out of the water, the girls went off to sunbathe or whatever it is girls do at the beach when they’re not in the water, and the boys came to the very logical conclusion that the only thing left to do was play football. So in a shouting, pandemonium-creating mob we descended on the beach, the game somehow having us all turning up at the opposite end of the beach, with the ball being kicked about all over the place. Basically we were enjoying ourselves.
Then, without warning, a vicious wave of sand hit us all from behind. It felt like I was being cut with a million razor blades all over my body. Almost as one, twenty different screams rose up all around. I turned to look behind to see what was happening, and saw a literal wall of sand was being blown in our direction. We attempted to keep playing, however the sand had us all giving up after the third wave. The sand was brutal, and someone suggested we take shelter on the rocks; surely it would just break against them? Whichever moron came up with that one was VERY WRONG.
We climb up the rocks, sweating and cursing all the way, thinking
our salvation is on top. Basic physics says that when air has a
further distance to travel, it does so faster. So the sand was
coming twice as fast, until the wind got to the rocks where it
simply dumped the sand on our heads whilst we hid behind the rocks.
I think a good analogy would be one of us being Allied soldiers at
the Somme.
Waiting there, exhausted, we came up with a plan of action. We would
try to wait it out, hoping the wind would die down soon. Now, none
of us being native Cape Townies, we didn’t actually know that these
conditions don’t actually seem to go down. So, finally emerging from
behind the rocks, we discovered that the wind was much worse. We
sprinted pell-mell back to the road, where the sand wasn’t so
painful. I look around me at my companions, all as totally drained
as me, and realise something very important. The ball had been left
behind. Therefore, we began running back over, the sand still
lashing its ever painful stings at us. We searched around the rocks
for about... ten seconds. Then, we proceeded once again to take
shelter behind them. Unfortunately, the ball was nowhere to be
found, and we abandoned it as lost at sea. Our next course of action
was to proceed back toward the road and bus. The tide was coming in,
so I at least chose to stay close to the water, in the belief that
the water would soften the blow of the sand. My friend’s hat then
blew off his head, and he chased after it, I went back with him, ‘No
Man Left Behind’ and all that.
The sand by the water, soothing? We were once again VERY WRONG. This was now like being lacerated by a cat o’nine tails. The first winds? A soft summer’s breeze. The wind atop the rocks? Bathing in cool water. I’d have taken either of those any day over that. Also turns out, wet sand STICKS. The two of us came to the decision very quickly, and very simultaneously. We raced the winds back to the road and safety. It took about four washes for me to rid my hair of sand.
Other Extra-Curricular Activities
- Extra-Murals
- Tour & Camp Photograph Galleries
- Drums & Dreams - 2008 School Concert
