What stunning place. We arrive taking the shorter overland route, not the much longer scenic route by the sea, south along the coast and around the peninsula from Cape Town. We by-pass the townships, hit small mountainside towns, arrive to a very picturesque town on the waterfront with miles long beaches and other small towns hugging the shores.
We head out shortly after for a 4 km walk between beach and train tracks south to Kork Kalk Bay (Basil says it’s like Chalk Bay). We pull into a place that Basil describes as one of the first places to welcome blacks in the ’90s. The beers is cold. The fish is brought in from elsewhere. The band plays American Top 40 cover tunes badly. After Nsako House in Joburg, this is a step down. But these are tourist towns on the cusp of winter.
Not much more to say. Beautiful place that makes my heart hurt. Hopefully, I can get those pictures up.
Memories? Dropping into the Village Inn (a throwback to earlier times) for a genuine fishing village type pub. Trying to escape a really terrible half-hour or so at a place called Fogey’s, a restaurant in the Muizenberg railway station where (gawd bless them) a young man with what must have been a hundred or so family and teenage daughters jammed into a CD launch hosted by a young man who I never saw but heard.
Final memory, men collecting clams along the beach.
Goodbye, Muizenberg. And thanks, Basil. it was so good to get out of the city.