Day 8: Scammed at Stellenboch

We hire a car for a couple of days to look around the wine country of Stellenboch and Franschhoek. The Avis lady warns us not to drive at night, and the advice of Therese from work that we should not stop at red lights after dark does not fill me with confidence.

Then at Stellenboch, I am scammed.

My first mistake was using an ATM on the street. I'd read you should only use ATMs inside a bank, but as it is a public holiday, I assumed the banks would be closed, and I was running out of cash. I also saw a group of Europeans use the ATM so thought it would be fine. I put my card in, covered my hand and did the transaction as usual. As my card was returned to me, a well-dressed black man was suddenly standing right next to me.

"You haven't closed your account properly," he said.

"What do you mean. I've finished," I said.

"No, you must make sure your account is closed. It's extra security for the World Cup."

Could that be true? I looked at the screen, was my account still open? He offered to show me how to fix it if I gave him my card.

"Move back, you're scamming me," I said, but I was not totally sure. He was well spoken, and I wondered if he was trying to help.

"Put you card back in to close it properly," he said, again wanting my card.

Then I made my second mistake. I told him to move well away, and I would check myself. So I put my card back in, and as I began to put the PIN in again, there was a young women standing immediately on the other side. "Move back," I said. I looked around, and there were at least half a dozen people watching. Was I holding everybody up, or was this a scammy family? The young woman refused to move away, she was looking for my PIN.

Then a white South African joined the queue, and as I looked around, he said, "Are you OK?" And he shouted to the others, "Move back, he's European, you're worrying him." Darn right there.

And they all disappeared in a moment. They were all in on the scam. He explained that most likely they would try to switch my card if I allowed him to grab it, and then the girl would see me try to input the PIN. They would have both card and PIN, and then go around the corner and draw up to the limit.

He said they were Nigerians, and suggested I draw my card to its daily limit to prevent further use. He also said he hated the fact that visitors are treated this way when his country is hosting them. But I'd also been told to carry a minimum amount of cash, and I did not like a stranger knowing I was carrying R7,000 in cash.

So I immediately rang CBA and stopped the card. As I write this, I have no idea whether my account has been emptied. I know they did not get my card, but did they have a magnetic reader for the card number, and did the girl see my PIN. I'll find out soon enough, but I felt foolish for disobeying one of the basic safety instructions.

But both Debbie and I are feeling a little drained by the need to be perpetually on guard, and although we have been going out after dark each night, we do so very cautiously. Some people who are travelling alone do not leave the hotel at night - it's a bit like living in the movie Avatar, where those skinny wild dogs come out at night. Only in SA, the dogs make the perpetual sound of a vuvuzela.

We hit the road and the scenery is stunning, with a heavy concentration of vineyards. Outside Franschhoek, there is a pass of winding bends through a mountain range, and at times the road is build out from the cliffs and seems to hang in the air. And as at Cape Point, there are baboons at the side of the road, although they do not seem interested in coming close.

Back in Cape Town, we head out to a Malay restaurant (braving the wild dogs after dark), recommended by our tour guide from the day before, and the food is fine without being legendary. As we walk back, crowds are on the street, anticipating the South Afrrican game due to start in a couple of hours. We drop by the Fan Zone, but it is already packed to capacity, with police horses pushing back the crowd and stopping more people entering.