The Jaws of Death

At 6AM, you wake up.

At 6:30, the minibus picks you up from your hostel in Cape Town for the 2 hour journey to Gansbaai, a small seaside village on South Africa's southwestern coast.

At 9, you board a twin-engined speedboat and head out across the frigid waters to an island several miles out to sea. The boat anchors in the rolling waves.

At 10, you put on a wetsuit.

At 10:15, you climb into a 10' x 10' x 2' galvanized steel cage. Minutes later you are lowered into the water.

Why do all this, you ask?

Because the water is teeming with Great White Sharks.

Shark cage diving has become a popular activity in South Africa, and June/July are the months to do it. At this time, the sharks congregate in this small area of the Western Cape in order to breed and feed off the local seal population.

Tourists looking to jumpstart their hearts can take advantage of this predictable migration by paying a considerable sum to be lowered into the sea inside a protective cage while the sharks feed nearby. The water is chummed using tuna carcasses attached to a rope that is held by a boat crewman. The principle is simple: put the people in the water, put the food in the water, wait.

You don't have to wait long. Within minutes, a 4m Great White appears in the vicinity and begins to circle ominously around the boat. Then, in an instant, it swings its powerful tail fin and swoops in on its prey, its jaws wide open to reveal a massive array of razor teeth.

As the shark attacks, the boat crewman pulls the rope on the brings the tuna to within inches of the divers' cage. The shark dutifully changes its trajectory and charges the cage, leaving the onlookers with nothing to do but gaze in awe at the fearsome creature as it passes by.

Can I just say something here? HOLY SHIT. This is not a fish, this is a prehistoric monster. Never in my life have I been witness to such an incredible force of nature as this. The cage may be made of steel, but as you stare into the glassy, sinister black eyes of the Great White, you can't help but think that you are truly at its mercy. Out here, the shark is king, and you are only a snack.

Like most activities that involve human/animal interaction, shark cage diving does have its nay-sayers. Thing is, the outcry is not over the safety of the shark, but instead with the possibility that you are teaching the shark to associate humans with food by placing tourists in shark feeding areas. Surfing is already a dangerous pastime in S. Africa, and shark attack incidents are increasing in number. I personally cannot attest to whether shark cage diving is the cause of this, though to be quite honest I felt as if the sharks were focused only on eating the chum and paid little mind to the warm bodies in the cage.

But fear not, surfers! I'm sure it's only a matter of a few generations before humans mettle enough with the delicate ocean ecosystems to sufficiently eradicate these beasts from existence. This despite the fact that sharks have been patrolling these waters for millions of years. Ha ha! Humans win again! Screw you, ocean life!

Africa???

When I was 17, I decided that I would one day follow in the footsteps of my adventurous parents and spend a few years of my reckless youth wandering the Earth.

So... 10 years, an engineering degree, a full-time job, several ex-girlfriends, many fingers of scotch and the kitchen sink later, here I am. Cape Town, South Africa.

I'm surprised I was able to afford it, really. What with the gambling addiction, the many illegitimate children and my penchant for lighting cigars with $100 bills, every penny needed pinching. Fortunately, traveling in Africa doesn't require one to be Warren Buffet.

First impressions? Well, I'd say that CT looks a lot like San Francisco for its ritzy waterfront. And Rio de Janeiro, for its bizarre topography. And Toronto, for its bohemian sidestreets. What it does NOT look like, is Africa.

Not that I expected there to be lions wandering the streets and a bunch of black guys with bone necklaces dancing around a roaring fire in the center of town. And believe me, CT has no lack of interesting things to do. A 2-hour vertical slog up to the summit of Table Mountain affords a brilliant view of the city, as well as the nearby landscape all the way from Robben Island (where Mandela was imprisoned) to the lighthouse at the Cape of Good Hope. In nearby Camp's Bay, you can side in a seaside bar and drink Castle Lagers and watch the sun set over the turbulent sea. The town offers everything from mountain climbing to barhopping, and tourism thrives here as people descend on the place to get a taste of African culture without having to worry about their safety - for Cape Town, I'll hazard, is more secure than Rome.

Of course, there are ample opportunities to endanger yourself if you so wish. I suggest ditching the ordinary taxicab in favour of a ride in a minibus taxi - for a few cents, you jump in the back of a rickety old VW wagon, sit down amongst the dodgy patrons, and hold on tight while you are whisked to your destination at insane speeds by a driver who couldn't be older than 15. Of course, the Lonely Planet all but forbids using minibuses as a means of transportation, but who are THEY to tell YOU what to do? You just have to say NO, GUIDEBOOK! SHUT UP, GUIDEBOOK! Then close your eyes and get on.

Sometimes you find the adventures, and sometimes they find you. Though my first few days in Africa have been decidedly un-African, they've also been a Hell of a good time.

Worth the 10 years? Stay tuned.

En Route

Hey! Do you recall that time you met a really sweet girl at a club in Rio de Janeiro, then didn't see her for 5 months, then flew from Canada to Amsterdam to go visit her, only to find out that she was even more wonderful than you had imagined?

No?

Well I won't forget when this happened to me.

Please meet Isis.

Obrigado muito, querida! Quero dizer que acho que seu Holandês é muito bom!

My brief stopover in Europe has been a pleasant one. I spent the first few days in London, staying with my friend Roger and his family (read: not paying for accomodation) and visiting my favourite hangouts: the RAF Museum at Hendon, the food gallery at Harrod's in Knightsbridge, the Camden Market, and of course the Big Ben.

After that I headed to Amsterdam to visit the above Carioca, which was a significant change from my previous trips to the place, because I discovered that apparently there is something to this beautiful city beyond the limits of the Red Light District. Like Dutch people! Imagine my shock!

Spending time in Amsterdam with someone who lives there allows you to shed the false pretense that the city exists solely as a place where 19-year-old British kids go to get baked. Isis and I traveled around in style on our old-school bicycles, meandering the local backstreets and soaking up the peaceful and yet dazzlingly electric atmosphere in what has to be one of Europe's most marvellous cities. I also had the opportunity to visit my Dutch friend Ashok, whom I also met and partied with in Brazil. He made me eat fries and mayo. To my arteries: Sorry, but I really enjoyed it.

That's it that's all for now. Tomorrow it's off to South Africa, and I can only imagine what adventures are in store for me there.

I hope they serve fries and mayo.