Cape Town.

It always captures my heart. I am in my element here. It is as though the surrounding beauty speaks my language. We are in tune.

This was not a good ol’ touristic trip. It was to be reunited with my best friend who now lives and works in the United State of ‘Murrica. A weekend was not enough. Oh hell, a week would not have been enough.

The beginning of this “let’s cause a bit of havoc and occupy CT” mission started at 3am on Friday morning. I woke up way too early. Too keen.

Easter weekend. This is why there are people driving about at 4am. Oef! I was awake so early because I live approximately 40 minutes away from the airport. I love airports. You see the most genuine facial expressions here.

Upon arrival. Breath taken away. Inhale. Exhale.

I travelled with Natalie. You special person, you! She was hungover and not entirely responsive that morning. Hilarious to watch, really. I was a hobbit: by 9am, I was already on “second breakfast”.

What a treat! Sunny with a chilly breeze. Ice cold sea water! Is that even normal? Durban has a minimum of 18 degrees sea water. Ah! Blaspheme! Needless to say, I could only stick my toes in the water. Then, I ran! Away! As fast as I could!

After the beach, meeting Carl and his gnarly mates, it was time for a little walkabout around town. I took some photos on the promenade. Unfortunately, my battery died. I saw some middle-aged women reading magazines in their thongs. Cape Town. You would think you are no longer in Africa. I stopped by at a rather inviting place called Knead. Nothing like freshly baked bread. I bought some for the braai that we were hosting that evening.

Our punch brought all the mates to the yard! Kelly is the queen of making deliciously potent punch (I will never forget the punch you made for your 18th…). We played a drinking game of Kings. You must know the game — it was solely invented to make the players ridiculously inebriated.

After a blurry night out in town. We had a boogy on Long Street — and, I am told that I witnessed a girly cat fight on the dance floor. As far as I am concerned, I killed it on the dance floor. I must have paraded some wicked Durban dance moves. Or, not.

Saturday morning.

Let’s not talk about it. However, let’s talk about Saturday afternoon. Vortex. The drive was beautiful. Stopped by for a Wimpy breakfast to somewhat cure the hangover. May have worked. Vortex is a psy-trance music festival; and this time, it was in Caledon. Approximately 1 hour 30 minutes away from Cape Town. I say approximately because I was in and out of sleep (I was not driving!).

Great stomping. Fun music. My god, I love people watching at such festivals. You end up questioning existence. Or, sanity. I woke up the next morning in the back seat of the car curled up in my sleeping bag with cramps and a rather sore hip. The word “tickets” was going around. I don’t recall why, but apparently I had these “tickets”. I mean, I was first man down… Is this the ticket for the point of no return? Someone. Please.?

Also, it was freezing! Possibly 12 degrees! Please don’t argue with a Durbanite – it was freezing cold!

That was the end of the trip. Checking in late (5 minutes before the check in closing time) and then having turbulence on the flight home after the rough two nights I had gone through. The universe was against me. Perhaps, it was trying to tell me to stay in Cape Town a little while longer. You know, to search for my name that I had chucked out the window. Mildly.

 Thank you for making this one hell of a trip. Kelly, your kindness amazes me everyday! I missed you as soon as I said goodbye! Errgh! See you soon.

I’ll sure make another date with Cape Town soon.

With Love,

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