The mountain is rough – to climb it, one needs tough soles. No tackies. No hiking sandals. Boots. I was on a shoestring budget so my boots were tied up in the Cape Flats.
Manenberg may not be a place many Castle Rockers rock up at. Nor do many Manenbergs hike Blue Gums. It was pure necessity that made me trek the divide.
Of course I was told the gangs there were more dangerous than the Cape Cobras on our trails. And that the ride along the slum-lined streets would be more demanding than a hike along the Danger Rocks cliff-face. But I’m frugal, and I needed boots.
So Siyasanga and I drove to Nyanga Junction. I wasn’t allowed to get out at first for fear of getting the white price but eventually I spoilt the deal and showed my true color. The wares were lined up in the plaza, across from the chest-high pile of old clothing. I tried on a few pairs, found the right fit, haggled weakly, paid a bit too much, and got back in the car with my new pair of boots. Steel-toed boots probably made for road work. Ankle-high boots probably made for digging ditches. But this pair was about to reach new heights. And after that we went to the Gugulethu mall for some work clobber. No stress, I confess.
We want to bring people from the flats out to Blue Gums, but first we have to make it walkable. And the first step to doing that, is getting to know the distance someone else has traveled. I’m glad I didn’t let paranoia send me to Cavendish that day, even if it was naïveté that helped me surmount the barrier. I felt like I stood out as a pale prick, awkwardly trying on a pair of shoes that should never enter a cubicle or conference room. My outlandishness even cost me an extra fifty rand. But everyone else was doing their shopping that day, so why not me?
And the boots are still proving their worth, as the soles peel off and the laces fray and the fabric tears, the Blue Gums still fall.
bluegumsfree 