Now, many a city has a good spot for a view. The Sydney Opera House for instance. The Eiffel Tower isn’t all that bad. But few have a view that can erase the memory of the concrete buildings set below by surrounding the viewer with beauty.
Empty, natural beauty.
Table Mountain has sloping edges. A wide, broad base that blends in to its many different suburbs, its many melting, blurring identities. Black, white, coloured, rich, poor, messy, Masi, broken, braai, hipster, history, slavery, sloaney, rockstar, lonestar and a damn fine samosa.
The first time I stood here, many years ago, the sun shone and so did my soul with the promise of life that lay ahead.
This time, it is cold and the scent of snow whispers in my ears
My soul has shed a few stars, earned some careworn scars and yet…
Air bites and snarls and prowls around and the clouds rise like muted rainbows
My soul still shines with the promise, no make that now the hope, of the life that lies ahead
And since here is so empty
And no-one is watching
I remember that old saying
Disclosure – I’ve travelled to Cape Town several times, sometimes on my own and sometimes as a guest of GoToSouthAfrica or the Cape Town Tourism Board. All words, opinion and dances when no-one is watching are my own…as ever, as always.
Abigail King is a writer and photographer who swapped a career as a doctor for a life on the road. Now published by Lonely Planet, the BBC, CNN, National Geographic Traveler & more, she feels most at home experimenting here: covering unusual journeys, thoughtful travel and luxury on www.insidethetravellab.com