Nelson Mandela spent 27 years in prison during his efforts to topple Apartheid. Much of his time was spent on Robben Island, a compound located just north of Cape Town. We decided to pay the island a visit.

After taking the 45-minute ferry ride on “The Jester,” we took a one-minute bus ride to the prison. I was baffled as to why we didn’t just walk. But as we were in prison, I followed directions.

Our guide took us through the prison grounds, kitchen, and cells. We learned about the history of the island, which was used by various nations throughout its past. During South Africa’s Apartheid era, Robben Island segregated prisoners based on race. Black people were given inferior clothing, no shoes, and less food than other prisoners.

Prison tactics were described as “psychological warfare,” due to racial inequalities, extreme censorship of mail, and a loud morning-time bell. Our guide rang the bell loudly as we entered the kitchen, to great effect. We all winched uncomfortably as the “bang” assaulted our eardrums.

At the end of the tour, our guide revealed that he was a former prisoner on the island. He lived the horror. It made the tour all the more powerful.

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In the afternoon, we traveled to Table Mountain, a giant mesa classified as one of the New Seven Wonders of Nature. After taking an efficient cable car to the top, we were presented with a marvelous 360-degree view of Cape Town. After an hour or so atop the mountain, we joined the line to descend.

Just as we neared the end of the line, the cable cars stopped loading. After some confused glances, we realized South Africa’s mandated blackouts had taken effect. For hours each day, South Africans are blocked from accessing the power grid. As luck would have it, Table Mountain’s blackout began just before our descent.

Our guide told us not to worry–Table Mountain has a backup generator to service the cable car during blackouts…or so we thought.

And so the time passed. 20 minutes. 40 minutes. An hour. An apologetic voice repeated a familiar refrain: “The cable cars are having technical issues. Our crew is working to fix the issue.” Over and over and over and over, the loudspeaker recited its anthem.

After around two hours, the Table Mountain staff started passing out water bottles and blankets. The wind was picking up and the temperature was dropping. An emotionally resilient group, we entertained ourselves by playing charades and asking riddles. Nevertheless, three hours in, our enthusiasm began to wane.

Finally, just over three and a half hours after being told there was a slight delay, the cable car resumed service. The mass of stranded tourists erupted into cheers, high-fives, and ear-to-ear smiles. We stepped into the car and descended.

We happily moved down the side of the mountain, until the cable car stopped yet again while we were on board.

After a tense couple of minutes, we started moving again.

At long last, our detour was over.