Monday, July 4

I hope I got the day of the week right.
The hostel driver dropped me off at the Joburg train station and I quickly found the ticket counter for the trains to Capetown. I asked for a sleeper ticket. "No sleeper, just sit," the lady told me. I was shocked. Even though I knew it was a possibility I was in denial. I slumped defeatedly away from the ticket counter.
So I thought I'd try the bus. Greyhound was there but their first bus was full, only the six pm bus was available and the fare was more than the train. "OK," I mumbled and reslumped away.
What should I do? I wanted to go at 12:30 on the train, but I didn't want to sit in an upright seat for 27 hours--the length of the trip to Capetown. I trekked around the terminal, backpack on my back, pondering. What if I rode in a seat for half the journey, slept one night in the midway city, then picked up a sleeper for the second half? I trod back to the ticket counter and tried to ask about this trick. "England and America are two countries separated by a common language, " goes the saying. Same for South Africa. But the lady behind the counter eventually figured out my idea, and said, No.
I didn't know what to do at this point. My mind was blank.
"Here's what you do, " the lady suddenly explained to me. "When you get down to the train talk to the Train Manager. Sometimes there are openings, accomodations, that he can help you with. No promises! No promises!"
I was ready to seize on any bit of hope so I bought a seat ticket and resolved to overcome my shyness and confront the Train Manager. I imagined a scowling, overbearing fellow who would be tired of all these people wanting special treatment. He'd surely bite my head off at a minimum.
But somehow I always end up getting more luck than I deserve on these trips. The TM was a friendly fellow of some mixed race, I think, perhaps Indian and African, in a starched white uniform with a very cordial manner. "OK," he said immediately, "stand over in the corner and I'll help you in a minute." Which he did. I got a sleeper. And what was most odd is that the train car with the sleeper berths was almost empty! Out of about 24 beds only seven or so were being used. (When we got close to Capetown another dozen or so boarded our car but even then there were vacancies.)
I tried to guess why there was such a discrepancy between what the ticket taker said and what was reality. At first I thought it might be some kind of graft thing where the TM made a little extra cash (I paid officially for a seat, he took my cash for a sleeper), but in fact he almost forgot to collect my additional fare. Only when we were on the outskirts of Capetown did he think to come buy and get the extra money.
Then I thought it might be a way to preserve a vestige of apartheid. Virtually all the seated passengers were black, all the sleeper, white. But the ticket taker was black. Why would she want to support such segregation. And, in fact, there were two mixed race guys in the berth next to mine, so it wasn't all white.
Maybe they are just inefficient in their ticketing.
I was slightly disappointed in the sleeper car. Because there were so few passengers there wasn't anyone to talk to. In Chinese trains the beds are close together and mingling is almost mandatory. In S.Africa the berths (containing 2 or 4 beds) are partitioned apart so that you really have to intrude on someone's privacy to talk to them.
And there was another problem: heat. There were no heaters on the train. "The train is very cold, " the TM told me offhandedly as he handed me my upgraded ticket. After pondering that comment a few seconds I began to wonder how I was going to keep warm all the way through the coming night. And the night was very cold--about freezing I'd estimate. My thin California clothes would never withstand that. But, again I was lucky, as an attendant came around at dusk and asked if I'd like to rent bedding for forty rand (about six bucks). I gladly agreed. Even with the bedding I was cold and slept fitfully, but I made it through and arrived in Capetown in good shape.
My brief look at Capetown is hopeful. The streets have folks of all races, unlike Joburg, and everything seems more urban and upscale. I suspect I'll like it here.