Travel Diary // A M S T E R D A M

On the ten hour flight from Johannesburg to Amsterdam, I imagined tall, lanky blond Dutch people who cycled around, recycling everything and eating, I don't know, fish paste and asking if I knew Die Antwoord or rode a lion to school. I was almost completely right. What I didn't imagine was how completely in love I would fall with this city.

From the architecture, to how incredibly well-dressed, beautiful and surprisingly diverse the people are, to the shopping, to - I'm at such a loss as to how to aptly describe what was the greatest time of my young life. To describe that I will never feel at such a peace anywhere else again and that if only I could have another three years to explore and love that city, it wouldn't be enough. It would also be shit expensive on my stomach but hella on my calves and quads.

You Need to Call Tyrone But You Can't Use My Phone, Cape Town

My recent trip to Cape Town for the Cape Town International Jazz Festival (where I worshiped the queen, Erykah Badu and discovered the amazingness of Haitus Kaiyote) has made really, like, lax and chill about everything. Including putting together several posts, especially this one. I don't understand how anyone gets anything done in Cape Town, it's so easy to have turn down nights and stroll around.

Cape Town was so good to me. The people, the weather and the scenery (oh my god, we even did one of those city bus tour things that tourists love) were perfect. I finally understand the allure of that Los Angeles/beachy/boho life where everyone drives at 60km/h in the CBD, knocks back drinks on Sunday afternoons with not a care in the world, where you can walk everywhere and cabs are ridiculously cheap because everything is so close together.

I'm so conflicted as to whether I want to remain the city girl I like to pretend I am or just pack it up, take a twelve hour bus to Cape Town and wear sandals every day. 

Cape Town is like another world. Another world where the sun sets at 8PM and the CBD isn't busy on a Sunday.

 Cue My So-Called Life voice over by Angela: "My parents keep asking how school was. It's like saying, 'How was that drive-by shooting?' You don't care how it was, you're lucky to get out alive."
Oh, I have braids in now. In case you haven't noticed.

 This is me not having time for anybody.

I went to the Cape Town Jazz Festival with my family because I'm a loser and I haven't been to Cape Town since 2009 so I have no friends there. I was sleepy, there weren't any young Turkish guys who wanted to whisk me away to the Caribbean to just watch reruns of Rugrats and eat mangoes. I ran into the above photographed cool cats on my way to cab and it turns out that not only are they, like, my type of people, they also go/went to the Cape Town board of my school. It was hella. Hanging with them is like in Perks of Being Wallflower when Charlie's in the car with Sam and Patrick and feels infinite. It was like they were showing me the world. It was intense and the best.

I woke up at 4AM the day after the Jazz Festival and took a long shower and sat on the balcony of our hotel room and took photos and painted. This was the better of my paintings. I felt so at peace with the ocean on the horizon and the smell of my poster paint and the warmth of a long, hot shower on your skin.

That same day I got to meet my Internet frrraann, Zipho, from Tony Gum. She is my absolute favourite South African blogger. It was so strange because talking to Zipho was like talking to an old friend. It's scary when you've fan-girled over someone for so long and meeting them could either be the very best thing or horrifying. What if you've idolised them, what if they're a catfish, what if they're not in a position to reciprocate your energy? It was the very best thing for me.

Forever,
Khenzo xx

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