My last vacation for three years

Evening palm trees in Palm Springs. 

You know you’re a miser when you consider opting out of a free vacation with your family in favour of the week’s worth of income you forgo by choosing the holiday.

Last week I was faced with this dilemma when my dad offered me his spot on a family trip because he had to work. In the end, after weighing the pros and cons, I decided to go. (Most people would think this decision a no-brainer, but with law school on the horizon, I need every penny I can get.)

Hanging out with siblings.

And that is how I came to be here in the very sunny city of Palm Springs, California.

If you are a little misled like I was, you probably think Palm Springs is a coastal city with lovely beaches. In fact, it’s a city in the middle of a desert. Luckily, I found out the truth before I arrived, or I would have been extremely disappointed.

It seems a strange vacation destination, but I suppose most people come here looking for warmth in the winter. Not the Swartzbergs though — we decided to come at the height of summer!

This African girl has been living in Canada for too long because the baking hot temperature is nice for about five minutes at a time before it becomes overwhelming. Luckily, we have a swimming pool and air conditioning to help us cope.

Lest you think that I regret my decision you come, you should know this desert city does have its charms. These are best enjoyed in the early morning or late evening though.

On Saturday we discovered the place wasn’t as deserted as it appeared at midday; when we went out for dinner the downtown was alive and exciting. Restaurants and bars were packed, and shops were still open and busy with customers. At this hour it was more believable that stars like Marilyn Monroe and Frank Sinatra would have retreated here.

I have also been able to admire an architectural style known as “desert modernism” as I pass by homes worth nearly two million dollars on my early morning runs. These properties are landscaped with palm trees, various cacti, and colourful flowers that thrive in the hot dry climate.

One of the other highlights of our trip so far was an aerial tram ride up Mount San Jacinto. Unfortunately, the state park was closed because of the recent wildfires, but we were able to enjoy the view. And the best part? The temperature was about 30 degrees (Fahrenheit) cooler up there!

Other than that, I’ve been swimming and relaxing — something I won’t have any time for in a few weeks when school begins.

From above, Palm Springs looks like a desolate place. 

Enjoying the cool mountain air. 

Plastic-wrapped suitcases

Probably the main thing that stuck out to my family during our visit to South Africa was the increase in security. Safety was already a concern when we lived there; burglar bars and security gates covering our windows and doors were a normal part of my childhood, as were the big walls that surrounded people’s homes.

Even though we’d heard reports of how it had only gotten worse, it was still a bit of a shock coming from Canada to see all the precautions that need to be taken to stay safe. For example, almost every home or property is surrounded by an electric fence. At the shopping centres there are guys who are employed to stand in the parking lot and watch the cars. Because they each have their own area to protect, they eagerly direct you to a parking stall when you arrive and then direct you as you back out in hopes of a good tip. And along the highway there are even signs that indicate where the “High jacking hotspots” are. (We had to take drive-by photos of these because of course it would have been unwise to stop there even for the sake of a picture.) Almost everyone has a story of how they were hi-jacked, robbed or held at gunpoint but in spite of this, people adapt and life goes on.

Luckily we came home with only one safety related story and it is a humorous one. At the airport in Johannesburg it has become a “trend” to have your suitcase plastic wrapped to ensure that the items in your suitcase are intact when you collect them at your destination. Before checking in your luggage you visit a wrapping station where you can have your luggage secured at 35 Rand (approximately five dollars) per case.

Unfortunately, on the evening we flew out, the only machines that were working were operated by a particular airline and were for their customers only. After asking a few people if they couldn’t help us anyway, one “wrapper” beckoned for us to follow him. When we were a little way off, he explained he could help us (at 30 Rand per case) but he could only take one suitcase at a time so that he wouldn’t be caught. This airline, you see, offered this service to their customers free of charge, and by doing us this favour he would be earning some pocket money. (His money-making scheme was not unique – all of his co-workers were making similar deals with other people and were trying not to get caught themselves.)

We agreed to the deal, but said that one person needed to come with him to make sure he didn’t walk off with the suitcase. He refused because he didn’t want to get caught and lose his job, however, my Uncle Mark quietly walked to a place where he could keep an eye on our new friend, so we agreed to his terms. Just before he walked away with the first suitcase he said, “Ok, just pretend you’re sitting around or something.” I thought this was quite funny because we were a very large group and therefore we were very conspicuous.

After wrapping each suitcase he tried to be very stealth; he would walk by wheeling the wrapped suitcase and without looking at us, he would leave it in front of us. A few feet further he would turn around and walk back, and as he passed I would have the next case waiting in his path so that he could grab the handle and take it without stopping.

When four of our six bags were wrapped he wanted my Dad to pay him, but we said no, we would pay him when he had finished the last two. He wasn’t happy about that – he wanted to make sure that if he got caught he would still get the money for his efforts. We agreed to pay him part of the sum when all of a sudden he walked off. At first we just thought he was trying another decoy (earlier he had taken one of the bags up to the check-in counter before bringing it back to the machine to try and look less-suspicious), but when he didn’t come back we started to get confused. After a few minutes I looked up and saw him beckoning to us from behind a column a few feet away. Thinking he wanted his half-payment, my brother went to give him the money. But when Kent got there, the guy, obviously distressed, asked him, “Who’s that man?” Kent didn’t know which man he was talking about. “Who’s that man over there?” When Kent realized he was talking about my uncle it took a while to convince him that he was family. He must have seen my Uncle Mark watching him, and he had assumed that Mark was his boss and he was going to get fired.

In the end, we got all six suitcases wrapped, he got his money and I assume he kept his job, and I must admit I was very amused by the whole thing. Not only did no one steal anything from our suitcases but we were able to easily recognize our bags in Detroit and Seattle as they came round the conveyor belt. For some reason no one else had plastic wrapped their bags. And our shuttle driver was quite disgusted that the airline had managed to destroy all of our bags until I explained to him that the bags were fine – we had just flown from South Africa.


Protective electric fences surround most properties.


This photo speaks for itself.


Negotiating with the plastic wrapper at the airport.


The result - my securely wrapped suitcase.