CAPE TOWN, South Africa, May 8, 2012 - I live in Cape Town, the most beautiful city in South Africa – maybe even the most beautiful city in all of Africa. Yes, I’m biased, but trust me, you’d be biased too if you saw this place.
A huge table shaped mountain, one of the Seven Wonders of the World, stands on the bank of the Indian Ocean, and my beautiful city is nestled around it.
This has been home for the past few years, and this first entry is a description of Cape Town, South Africa from my eyes:
A relaxing start at the City’s central St George’s mall allowed my mind to wander aimlessly from the weather to how I’d write this descriptive piece.
Hey, why is it St George’s mall, if there’s no actual mall here?
Cape Town is home to the Company Gardens. Walking through them, looking for descriptive words, I noticed that somehow they looked a little more than “where I got mugged” – and the squirrels a little more than glorified vermin.
An ex tried to get me to feed some squirrels, one rather disastrous date a few years ago. In fact, I remember him trying to salvage it with a beautiful bouquet from the wide selection of street florists on the colourful Adderly Street.
I’m allergic to pollen.
On a lighter note, you know you are in Cape Town – South Africa in fact - when a small pamphlet gets shoved in your face advertising the same “doctor” who “cures” everything. Somewhere on the other side of the country, a confused (or excited) South African is skimming through this very pamphlet promising all kinds of wonders from super-natural sexual performance to invisibility.
Wafting in the noon day heat, the strong smells of strong spices in the little town of Bo-kaap tell the story of my childhood: years spent in Indian markets in Durban on the east coast of South Africa. Whenever homesickness strikes, I hike up to Bo-kaap and intoxicate myself with the strong Eastern culture – on the rocks.
I could have attempted to write down everything about Cape Town; all the sounds, smells and history. But there is so much I would have missed. I would have missed the hidden history, the memories that still live in the slavery monuments and the beauty of the majestic cathedrals. I would have missed the smells and sounds far louder than the lingering smell of Nkuku’s Chicken, or the Tuesday trash truck.
Not to mention the living monuments that live in the memories of the people of Cape Town. There’s a memory associated to a place, a smell, a sound that lives in the population and tells an ever changing story of this place. In each of us, a different tale of Cape Town unfolds.
I guess this is mine.