Cape Town’s scenic beauty is legendary. It is regularly featured among the most beautiful cities in the world, with pictures showing it nestling at the foot of majestic Table Mountain.
The southeasterly wind often blankets Table Mountain with a white cloth.
But while sightseeing trips around the Cape Peninsula and further afield into the winelands and the towering mountains further inland are a must for visitors, don’t forget the city itself.
It has that particular quality which sets some cities apart. It is a city made for walking.
In my case, I must confess, there is an additional aspect that comes into play as I on visits take time to wander its streets, stopping here and there to admire some of the old buildings pinched between the more modern highrises. It is that of nostalgia.
I am an inveterate city stroller. It’s been so from my teenage years.
I am a son of South Africa’s harsher northern climes, which is so culturally as well as politically and economically. On arriving in Cape Town as a young man to take up my first job, I was surprised at how relaxed folk seemed to be and how easy they seemed to get on with each other.
I took to walking the city’s streets, stopping every so often to listen to people’s chatter and laughter. I never stopped marveling at the beautiful old buildings that the developers had mercifully spared, and I loved soaking up the historic atmosphere.
This, I kept reminding myself back then, was the Mother City. It was where the first European settlers arrived back in 1652, setting in train the intricate and often tumultuous events that shaped multi-racial South Africa.
Part of my recent nostalgia trip took me up Government Avenue that runs the length of the Company Garden. This is where nearly four centuries ago a motley group of Europeans, on instruction of the Dutch East India Company, set about planting a garden to provide the company’s passing ships with fresh produce. Now the avenue has ancient oaks lining it and paths branching off to pretty lawns and flower beds, and museums and galleries.
The Houses of Parliament back onto serene Government Avenue that passes through the Company Garden.
While the Company Garden’s quiet beauty speaks much of the spirit of Cape Town, my mood also had me reflect on Cape Town’s part in the turbulent period that led to South Africa’s transition to an all-race democracy.
At Government Avenue’s entrance on the city-centre side, just before it passes the Houses of Parliament, I found construction in progress of a memorial in the shape of an arch in honour of Archbishop Desmond Tutu who in those hectic times used to, in his inimitable way, preach his message of peaceful change in nearby St George’s Cathedral.
At the Edwardian-style City Hall, built in 1905 from limestone imported all the way from England, I lingered for a while at the spot where on 11th February 1990 I stood a few short yards away from the podium as Nelson Mandela made his first speech after his release from 27 years in jail.
The City Hall, where Nelson Mandela made his first speech after his release from jail.
At the Adderley Street Flower Market I enjoyed for a long while the medley of aromas wafting from the floral piles on display and the female sellers carrying on their lively banter in the way their forebears had done for most of the market’s 150 years of existence.
The old Flower Market where the sellers' banter is as enjoyable as the floral beauty.
I missed the second-hand bookshops that used to be a feature of vibrant Long Street. There too the new media had pushed back the old order. But then I sat down at one of the sidewalk coffee shops that have sprung up to enjoy a mug while watching folk, mostly tourists, enjoy a leisurely walk along the street, peering at shop windows and here and there entering a boutique or curio shop to buy something.
One of the ornate old buildings that adorn Long Street.