May 1957

SOME NOTES ON A SABBATICAL TERM My first glimpse of South Africa as we sailed into Capetown harbour was something I shall never forget. The sun was just rising behind Signal Hill, the lights of Capetown had not yet been extinguished, and we saw Table Mountain resplendent with its magnificent white tablecloth. I was assured by South Africans on board that I could not have been more fortunate. By the time we had disembarked—some hours later—it was raining, but the weather quickly recovered from this temporary lapse, and for the rest of my stay in the Union there was little to complain of except heat and an occasional thunderstorm.

One cannot fail on first arriving in Capetown to be struck, and indeed startled, by the evidence of the policy of Apartheid which is everywhere abundant. It is not my intention to discuss race segregation in this article, but it is all so far removed from anything we have seen and experienced that it must inevitably attract a good deal of notice. It is surprising how soon one gets accustomed to it all, without in the least approving, and I do feel that many Europeans throughout the Union accept this segregation almost as a law of Nature without even bothering to justify it or even to think about it.

After one night in Capetown I went by train to Johannesburg, a distance of 960 miles, which we covered in 29 hours. The South African railways are narrow gauge (3 ft. 6 ins.) and considering the great distances and difficult country, are remarkably efficient. Mainenance costs must be enormous, and in addition there are plans being carried out to double the lines, many of which are still single, and to electrify the whole system. After the first 200 miles the scenery cannot be said to be particularly interesting, and one felt little was missed by sleeping through the Great Karroo. Our train arrived at Johannesburg, nearly 6,000 ft. above sea level, at 3-0 p.m., punctual to the minute.

A very interesting day on Sunday included a visit to Pretoria, and ended with Evensong at St. John's College followed by supper with Mr. and Mrs. Manby. St. John's College is in its general organisation very much like an English Public School, though the Sixth form is nearly non-existent owing to the fact that entrance to a South African University can be secured on "Matriculation", which is about the equivalent of five "0" level passes here. I talked to a group of senior boys after supper, and found them to be extremely interested in and knowledgeable on both their own and our political problems.

It may well be that a group of St. John's boys will soon be visiting York. The following weekend I also spent at St. John's, and saw something of their cricket, played on matting wickets with a gravel outfield.

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