Cape Town Capers – Making The Most Of The Mother Of All Cities

The only people who suffer due to negativity, boredom, frustration or resentment are the sufferers themselves. It is, therefore, not worth the space it takes up in our minds or emotions. Here we were in the City, rated amongst the world’s top ten. We were going to squeeze every drop of juice out of this lemon. Bring on the Tequila we agreed.

One morning Anna kindly invited me to hike one of the many Table Mountain hiking routes before she set off on her holiday. We started near the Cable Car. A gentle climb along the mountain’s contours with splendid views of the City, harbour, Atlantic Sea Board, Lion’s Head, and the Gondolas making their way up and down the mountain. She shared her favourite spots to meditate and catch her breath when needed.

Invigorated and feeling pretty chuffed, I set off solo a few days later to walk the Promenade. Through the gardens, I went past the candy-striped lighthouse to Camps Bay. Doing a 22km walk is not for everyone, but doing short walks is fine too. Enjoy the art, parks, and exercise hangouts and when you’ve built up a thirst, support one of the many coffee trucks and pop-up coffee bars parked along the way.

The promenade is a favourite meeting point for friends, walking groups, couples and the aged accompanied by carers. Children run or rollerblade, younsters on scate boards or foot scooters parade and exercise. If you're like me,  bum on  bench is perfectly fine too. Watch the world go by while the tide ebb and flows around you.

Being a pensioner in Cape Town does have its perks we discovered. Yep, that’s right. Numerous interesting places offer Pensioner discounts on various days. With my persuasion and the promise that we’d walk, Butch agreed to accompany me to the Zeitz Mocca Museum in the recently developed Silo district of the Waterfront.

It could be a reminder of spending the day at the Tate Modern in London with my son Jaco which sparked my interest in and enjoyment of the gallery. I could spend hours there admiring the inventive use of the abandoned Siloes and the imaginative architectural ingenuity used by the designers to create a unique space for exhibiting African art and a platform for our artists to show their works.

The Boeing had already signalled that we could sit down with a drink. To enjoy the views of Cape Town’s harbour, the dockyards and the Waterfront, there would be no better place than a rooftop bar. Unfortunately for us refurbishments were being carried out at the Silo Hotel (the best choice), but there are other options. We enjoyed the views, a drink and a delicious Pizza at the Radisson Red Hotel.

The Victoria and Albert Waterfront offers visitors something of everything. For those who enjoy shopping, a Mecca for every taste, budget, and whim. I love boats, hence a million pictures of ships in every shape, form or size. The fact that the harbour is still very much a working harbour delights.

I often tell people that I’m sure one could enjoy three meals a day at a different coffee shop, Bistro, restaurant, market or bar for a year, and one wouldn’t go through the list by far. Last week, it was reported that three new Mexican restaurants had opened, and we enjoyed a meal at just one in Green Point.

Long street remains one of my favourite haunts to explore, dig up an antique, find a book or peruse some vintage garments long out of fashion. This time I shopped with my eyes and camera. The future of shopping for spoils will be on the back burner for a very long time. Nevertheless, the morning spent dawdling into and out of shops, enjoying a strong coffee at one of many eateries, reminded me of being a tourist. Church street is another favourite not to be missed oh and Kloof street. I had run out of time.

Another of my forays took me to browse old books, first maps of Africa and manuscripts in the National Library, where students quietly read, study and make notes. The smell of old paper lingers in the silence while ghosts of stories, history, or diamond deals fill the air.

At St George's Cathedral, I solemnly paid homage to one of my heroes Desmond Tutu whose ashes lie there covered by a plaque bearing his name. Whispered prayers of worshippers kneeling in the cool darkness calms and brings a feeling of restoration, reminding me too that we are never forgotten in my mother's prayers.

Refreshed, I walked and found the rascal (very much persona non grata now) Cecil John Rhodes still standing there, pointing north! He seems pretty old-fashioned and out of place now. Could he be redundant?

On the sidewalk, I stopped to browse an older man’s charcoal sketches depicting life in an informal settlement. The artist’s expressive pictures were touching, and once I got closer to studying the highly detailed landscapes of village life, we struck up a brief conversation. He was a font of information which he enthusiastically shared. At a different time, I certainly wouldn’t have left without a rolled-up picture tucked under my arm, and I have this niggling feeling that I’ve missed out. He agreed I could take his picture without hesitation.

In defiance, I sat on the wooden bench marked “Non-Whites Only”. One of two benches flanking the imposing wooden doors at The High Court Civil Annex where during apartheid, people of “dubious” race had to report to be classified. Thankfully now children, students, tourists, and adults like me can go there, like the groups I saw, who learn and are informed about the inexcusable horrors of our past.

Butch and I attended a screening of Where the Crawdads Sing, our first movie date night since Covid. We crunched on our popcorn, slurped diet coke in paper cups and got stiff necks from viewing a gigantic screen again. It was tremendous, and we did it all again to see Elvis.

On a miserable Sunday evening, we braved wet, slippery cobblestoned pavements to queue for a curry at Indian Curry Bazaar in the City Centre. While waiting to wash my hands I asked, in true Anna style, what the chap next to me was having. In broken English, he explained, not fully understanding him, but getting that he was a tourist from Mexico, I ordered.

After three mouthfuls, Butch and I swopped. He had my HOT noodle and vegetable dish while I tackled his Biryani. I enjoyed the atmosphere, and Butch loved the bill! Here locals and regulars enjoy affordable Indian street food, and it’s on our doorstep.

We had something larney, decadent and far pricier for dessert on Beach road Mouille Point. Another successful date night done!

Our favourite times were undoubtedly spent with Liam, grandson extraordinaire. He wooed us with his charm and the devotion he showed us. We listened to his garbled stories, long and exciting they were too. Butch and I were under his spell when we heard him at first light when he awakened. We watched and rewatched Peppa Pig, George and his Mum a gazillion times. Getting me to rendezvous with him in our secret place to watch helicopters take off and land on YouTube didn’t take convincing I followed willingly like a lamb to the slaughter I went.

We read stories and admired his collection of trucks, Porches’ (he’s besotted with them) bunnies and train sets. Suppers were loud and boisterous; we’d sit down to supper with him and enjoy the last minutes before routines set in. Bath time was one of our favourite times. When we’d all quieten down, relax and unwind before bedtime.  My favourite time was sitting on his mat with one of his favourite books, him curled up on my lap with Bunny and a dummy. Often our singsong voices would be soothing. He settled and dozed, nestling ever closer until he slept soundly. That’s when the entire house sighed, relieved the day was done.

We accompanied him and his favourite human, Misa to school on our last day and were joined by Boetie Promise walking the two Standard Poodles. The mystery of the early start to school became clear. He inspected, admired and commented on every motor car, passing or stationery. He is well-known in the community, and greeting passersby took time. His initial resistance to attending school was soon forgotten when he spotted his cousins. Without a backward glance, he sprinted off. Happy as Larry.

I will forever be his Misha, I hope. Although we might not be around for a while, we know we leave him in good hands.

During our sojourn in Cape Town, we did have opportunities to meet up with friends and family. Supper with Mark, my brother, was exceptional. We dined at his beautiful home in the kitchen garden at his reading table on three mismatched vintage chairs. On our laps, my Granny’s starched table napkins, three ancient plates and Ouma’s silver cutlery.   We laughed and shed a few tears, discussed some technical matters should they arise while we’re away, dusted some skeletons and raised topics customarily left for the family luncheon at Christmas when everyone’s slightly tipsy! We were sober and could laugh. Instead of using Uber, Mark ferried us home, lengthening our time together before the inevitable goodbyes. If we don’t see you through the week, we’ll see you through the window (of my camera’s lens and blogs.)

Being in Cape Town made seeing friends convenient, and at the drop of a hat, we’d down tools and high tail it to any venue to meet up. We enjoyed the company of special friends at Sotanos, lingering over courses and coffee long into the afternoon while celebrating the Bride! With Lorraine, we revisited the iconic La Perla in Sea Point, where we chatted up storm sharing experiences, our hopes and future dreams.

Butch and I joined my fabulous friend Juanita for breakfast at the refurbished Winchester Mansions before they dashed off to their engagements. An hour with Juanita is like a month in therapy, and she lifts my spirits with her positive, honest and authentic attitude to life. My stories are peppered with experiences we’ve shared or anecdotes she’s liberally shared with us. To know her is to love her.

When a best friend calls to suggest lunch, one drops everything, and you go in a heartbeat. That’s how important and special an invitation is. We’d recently been to Stellenbosch, but we’re always eager to try new places. Steve’s recommendations are always spot on. Italian cuisine ticked all my boxes, and my lamb ragu complimented the flavours of my starter,   a bean soup. The baked custard was deliziosa. The cosy family-run Pane E Vino Food and Wine Bar was the perfect setting for this “last luncheon” before we set off. Butch picked Steve’s brain for any tips, advice and suggestions for our forthcoming trip to the Richtersveld. The hand-drawn map on the menu will accompany us on our travels.

No Italian meal is complete without a visit to the local Gelato shop on Church Street. While licking our cones, we watched pretty students and their handsome partners in their party finery being photographed before their party. We had to smile. While we were decked out in scarves and spencers, these young gals wore strappy dresses with scooped necklines and high slits in skirts and bare backs. Not a goosebump in sight.

For a quick lunch one day, we took up someone’s suggestion to visit the Japanese Sushi Bar in a shopping centre in Sea Point. Unfortunately, I can’t recall the name. Not my strong suit. We did enjoy our meal.

The apartment we stayed in was very conveniently located within walking distance of most of the places we visited and frequented. With a Woolies Food store on the corner,  bakery on the next and  Korean restaurant a few doors down, we had to go there too. It suited us perfectly during the frequent bouts of load-shedding we were experiencing. I was disappointed with the Korean restaurant. Drinks at the Grand Beach Bar were a treat especially since the company was so good.  The cosmopolitan atmosphere reminded me of my childhood holidays in Maputo. At the table next to us were  group of guys from Chad. We went all out Mexican for supper and enjoyed a Tapas style supper. Green Point buzzes at night. 

Our explorations were just the tip of the ice berg, there are hundreds of alternatives to keep the whole family happy. I loved the poster of David I'm sure it'll make you smile too. Look out for street art I found art and artists in the most unusual places. 

All good things end, and so did our stay in Cape Town. We’d done everything on our wish list, Butch had completed his to-do list, and we were ready to fetch the Honey Badger who’d been idling for ages. It was time to move on, and we’d both had enough city life.