Capetown was the final stop on my marathon four month trip down through Africa. It was hard saying goodbye to all of the amazing friends from the truck, but I think we were all ready for some time to explore by ourselves, at our own pace.

Being back in such a westernised major city was a huge culture shock, and it really felt as if I had already left the African continent. The first thing I did was head to the biggest shopping complex that I could find, and soak in the atmosphere. At first it was all a little bit over whelming, but then I got into the swing of things and had a real splurge in MAC.

For almost the whole of the trip I had resisted the urge to wear a face, but being back in normal society meant that my need for a mask came back in full force! I think the woman who served me was a little scared by my extreme pleasure at being made to look human.

I know that having travelled through some of the worlds poorest countries I should have found it easier to give up such superficial luxuries as make up, and there are certainly comforts that I no longer feel the need to covert, but vanity is a very hard vice to break. I suppose in the end, without makeup I probably wouldn’t make a living doing what I do, and therefore would be unable to travel to the wonderful places that I do, and it must help somebody’s economy along the way.

Another luxury was getting a bed, even if it was a bunk in a 20 bed dorm. I love tents, it rivals my addiction to Excel spreadsheets, and so camping for the majority of the time I was on the road was no hardship. However, after falling off the horse at New Years, and gaining about a million punctures in my blow up roll mat, sleeping had become highly uncomfortable.

I was on a very strict budget while in the city, which mainly involved forgoing food so that I was able to take part in some of the amazing activities offered. I would love to go back at some point in the future and explore abit more thoroughly.

No visit to Capetown is complete without a trip across the bay to Robbin Island, Nelson Mandela’s prison home for 27 years. I must say though, that doing the trip hung-over does not do it justice. A former inmate, who shares with the group the history of the prison, and his own experiences, escorted us around the buildings. It was really fascinating, but did feel a little rushed.

Our guide had been held as a political prisoner for the four years prior to the end of Apartied in South Africa, and was incredibly passionate that the prison itself should be kept as it was when him and his friends served time there. He was upset that the walls had been painted, as he felt that it gave the wrong impression of the life they had led while serving there.

I managed to scrape together enough change to have one big night out on the town. Before I left the hostel drank a whole bottle of fizzy wine, only because I had bought it at the wine tasting and realised I couldnt fit it into my backpack. So with that fueling me, I took on Capetowns club scene, and well its all rather blurry.

I remember a pub, then refusing to pay to enter a club that seemed to be playing techno, and marching off down the street, then maybe a table, some hiphop, a taxi, and then lots of men in underwear. I really hope the latter was a gay bar?!