After
breakfast, leaving our luggage to the tender mercies of some officious
agent, who professed to see it "through the Customs," we took a hansom
and drove to the Grand Hotel, _en route_ to the hotel, in the suburb of
Newlands, where we had taken rooms. My first impressions of Cape Town
certainly were not prepossessing, and well I remember them, even after
all these years. The dust was blowing in clouds, stirred up by the
"south-easter" one hears so much about--an icy blast which appears to
come straight from the South Pole, and which often makes its appearance
in the height of summer, which season it then was. The hansom, of the
oldest-fashioned type, shook and jolted beyond belief, and threatened
every moment to fall to pieces. The streets from the docks to the town
were unfinished, untidy, and vilely paved, and I remember comparing them
very unfavourably with Melbourne or Sydney. However, I soon modified my
somewhat hasty judgment. We had seen the town's worst aspects, and later
I noticed some attractive-looking shops; the imposing Houses of
Parliament, in their enclosed grounds, standing out sharply defined
against the hazy background of Table Mountain; and the Standard Bank and
Railway-station, which would hold their own in any city. At the same
time, as a place of residence in the summer months, I can well
understand Cape Town being wellnigh deserted.
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