At the end of a 19-or-so-hour road journey south from Johannesburg through South Africa’s veld (with only one CD available to play in Frank’s Jeep: “Sam’s Town” by The Killers–I still sometimes hear a phantom-like echo of it in my head at random moments), we arrived at the foot of Cape Town’s Table Mountain.
At which point Frank insisted on us making the two-hour trek to the top.
It was worth it. We found a spot to buy a beer and take in the amazing view of the city sprawled out below in the bowl made by the surrounding mountains next to the ocean winking mischievously in the sunlight.
Now there are a lot of nice spots in the world to enjoy a sun-downer drink and I have by no means tried out many of them. But. I would argue that Cape Town has to be a contender for the finest spot to drink your cocktail or beer in a bar next to the beach as the sun begins her sultry dip beneath the ocean’s rim.
Frank informed me that if you looked closely enough and were lucky enough, you could spot a green flash emitted as the sun finally dipped beneath the ledge of the horizon.
So as the sun got lower and lower I peered ever more earnestly beyond the windsurfers zipping across the waves, sipped my drink, peered on as some ridiculously attractive South African goddess sidled by our table, peered on as the windsurfers started to return to the shore, and sipped, and peered some more and then suddenly…
I’ll be totally honest, I can’t exactly remember what happened, but I have a vague recollection of a greenish tinge appearing at the critical moment though perhaps I’m imagining it. Sorry, bit of a cop-out.
Though I like the idea of having a reason to go back to Cape Town to check. If you ever go, look out for that flash of emerald light and perhaps let me know.