Don't eat the daisies

This morning we rode the cable car to the top of Table Mountain. Jim, don't do it. It is seriously scary.

Notice the abseilers who pay to risk their life!

The views at the top are wonderful, if you can stay far enough away from the edge to appreciate them. The flowers are fascinatingly different.

Basking on the rocks near the cable car station was a scattering of dassies and a sign that said "don't feed the dassies, they might bite".

In the afternoon I went in search of something to knit with on the way home. . . . I didn't pack enough. After some internet research I set off in the bus. But I must have read the google map wrong, 'cause I couldn't find the street let alone the "shop" which may have been in a house which is a bit wary-making. There was a fall back position so another bus took me back to the V & A waterfront to Cowgirlblues yarn designers. T seemed appropriate to buy some merino from South Africa.

All the bus tripping was a good opportunity for people watching while seated. Some schoolgirls got on the bus wearing virtually the same uniform that we suffered except it was a nicer green with more ultramarine in the dye, but still green.

Tonight was the official dinner. It was poorly organised and exceedingly loud. We came away before desert.