After our early evening the night before, we’re all rested and ready to go. We’ve got a cooking class scheduled at 11:00 a short walk from the apartment in an area called the Bo-Kaap neighborhood, which is traditionally a colored area, with descendants of the enslaved Malay and Indonesian people, along with Indians and mixed race people.

The Bo-Kaap area is brightly painted and colorful and a popular tourist destination in the daytime. Many inhabitants of the area are Muslim, and the adhan can be heard broadcasting from a neighborhood mosque five times a day.

Our cooking class is taught by Faldela, a petite woman who swears like trooper. She has opinions on everything, and likes to share. She’s very entertaining. Today we’re making a spicy stew of chicken and potatoes, daltjies or chili bites, samosas and roti.

Under Faldela’s instruction we mix flour, baking powder and water to create a dough, which is then rolled out, smeared with butter, rolled and shaped into the roti. We mix chickpea flour with wheat flour and spices for the daltjies. Mounds of spices, garlic and onions along with some water begin the stew.

We make a chicken and vegetable filling for the samosas and learn to fold them. Some look better than others. Oil bubbles on the stove, and we drop the daltjies in to cook. Chicken and potatoes are added to the stew.

Faldela informs us that she doesn’t like air fryers because they can explode. Her husband emerges from a back room and overhears her comment and softly says that cell phones can explode too. She rolls her eyes.

When everything is done we sit at the table. Faldela says a Moslem prayer, and we eat. The food tastes great. Plenty of spices, but not too hot. Our roti is flaky and delicious. We drink water or mango juice. Sated, we stroll back to the apartment. Time for a nap.

Nap time over, we’re going out on the town. We’ve booked a reservation at The Blue Room, a nearby nightclub with live music and dinner. We arrive before the first show and are seated quickly. We’re the only people there. The band is warming up. Their singer has yet to arrive. We order drinks. A few more people wander in.

We order a light dinner and wine. The band begins their first set, and the lead singer strolls in, tall, thin and wearing sunglasses. Looking very cool. A man in a blue fedora sits in the front watching the band; Maybe their manager, or the local godfather.

The band is good, and the lead guitarist is great. They’re called The Blaq Band(with a Q) and they play a mix of light jazz and reggae. We eat our meals and enjoy the show. Some young women stroll in and sit near the band, probably either girlfriends or groupies.

We stay for the second set, then call an uber for the ride back to the house. It’s been a busy day. Tomorrow we’re going to a township.