The Best NY Slice

We left Simon’s Town in high winds and spritzy rain to pick up souvenirs at a local mall before heading up the coast to Fish Hoek, located along a cove in False Bay. The Heritage House we stayed in overlooked the cove. After lugging our luggage up 51 steps, Greg 2 and I found ourselves in a little cottage separated from the main house. We dropped our gear and headed north to Muizenberg (pronounced MUSE-IN-BERG) for a late afternoon on the beach.

Muizenberg is a famous surfing locale in the Cape. Colorful surfing shacks line the fine white sands. We bimbled along the beach watching surfers of all skills tackle the small waves coming in. Great White sharks are known to come into these waters to feed. High upon the cliffs above us, shark spotters kept a watchful eye out. In the right conditions, it would be easy to spot them, but on this day the churned waters from the storm made spotting difficult. A black flag with a shark on it flew at the beach indicating the hazard. A white flag with a black shark and a siren would have meant a spotting.

Poor spotting conditions

Greg 2 and I had had a discussion earlier in the trip about American exports. The perception is that America generally doesn’t export a whole lot in terms of material goods because of high labor rates. However, what we do export is culture. The stores along the beachfront were populated with American brands. It was bit of a surprise to see, a bit of a disappointment to see, but somehow a little comforting.

We were headed back towards the car when we spotted an “I Heart NY Slice” pizza shop. 8,000 miles from home, we managed to find a pizza place that does New York-style pizza. Greg 2 and I had our doubts. We’ve both seen plenty of places that claim to have NY-style thin-crust pizza and have failed terribly at the attempt, even in New York. We were peckish and the thought of getting NY pizza in South Africa struck us as very funny. We indulged.

Admittedly, we were surprised. The shop looked like hundreds of pizza places we’d been to; it even had the word “pizza” spelled out in rand epoxied into the floor. A slice of plain cost R35, or about $1.90. We were amazed to find that in fact, they had just about nailed it. The crust was thin and brittle but not charred, perfect for folding. The cheese was a little overcooked, but that was the only thing we could find issue with. It certainly ranked on the scale of legitimate NY pizza joints. Not the best, not the worst, but certainly passable.

Not pennies, rand.

We headed back down south into Kalk Bay, passing the Rhodes Cottage along the way. Cecil Rhodes was a pivotal figure in South African history as an imperialist, brutal colonist, and one of the founding members of the De Beers diamond mining company. More on him later. We walked the town a bit before heading to the Brass Bell for dinner. The restaurant sits out into the bay at the edge of the tidal pool filled with purple sea urchins. Waves crashed up against the seawall outside the large windows. Although springbok shanks were on the menu, they were sold out, so we settled for ribs and pork belly instead, watching the sun go down over the bay. A light rail train coursing the coastline from Cape Town to Simon’s Town would pass by on occasion, illuminating the diners.

Upon return to Heritage House, Greg 2 and I found that we could not get any lights to come on. I initially thought that we were being loadshed. Loadshedding has been occurring in South Africa for several years. The country is unable to produce enough power to supply the population, so various sections of the country get shut off for hours at a time. Loadshedding has largely quieted down this year as it was an election year. But I digress. Our lack of lighting had nothing to do with the greater power grid. After an exhaustive search, the homeowner suggested we move to his other property next door. Greg 2 and I were excited for the adventure. The homeowner apologized profusely, but I indicated in Afrikaans that it was no problem and thanked him for being so accommodating. He laughed in surprise at my Afrikaans. I had gotten a smile. My studying paid off again.

We were now staying in a house called Min Y Mor, or Edge of the Sea in Welsch. Like the Heritage House next door, it was also set into a steep hill. The living room and two bedrooms we were initially introduced to were very modern with hues of blues and whites scattered in the furniture and decor. But it was the kitchen that really got us excited with it’s open ceiling thatched roof. We suspect the house was built in the late 1800’s or early 1900’s. After some beers on the deck outside in the cool air, we retired.