Travel with Sharlene

We arrive into Cape Town a day after horrible weather has whipped up the sea and blown everyone about. But for our four days at the tip of Africa, the sky is blue, the mountain without a tablecloth and the May weather unseasonably mild. If the Cape wanted to put on a show, this would be the backdrop it ordered.

It’s a whirlwind trip, and we pack it in.

Firstly, a night and morning in Stellenbosch. This bustling student town is clean and prosperous. Wide streets and pavements, quaint shops, fancy restaurants, vibrant cafes. And the scenery is spectacular, nestled as it is in the arms of granite mountains. The leaves of the oak trees that march down every street, are burnt umber with the changing season.  

This is wine country. Old wine country. Houses buttress vineyards, they too cloaked in their Autumnal gear. We have breakfast at Stark-Conde wine estate, at a place called Postcard cafe. It’s exactly that. A postcard setting, complete with mountain, pond and colourful flowers. We spend some time in the Stellenbosch shops, buy clothes, and drink coffee. And I earmark this old town for another visit. There are walks to do, restaurants to visit, and vistas to drink to.

We spend Thursday night small bar crawling around Cape Town itself. The city rocks. We bumble from one great establishment to another, jostling with crowds down Kloof Street and then through the city. The food and wine in elgr is wonderful (but alas, for reasons unknown, has just closed down). Fable is perhaps our highlight, with storied, playful drinks that stoke the imagination. Full of drink, we opt to walk to our final, secret bar through an area that has the locals twitching. We are fine, but it pays to take heed of safety in South Africa. An uber may have been a better option.

The final bar, Charlie’s Bar – The Art of Duplicity, is the sort of place we love. A random door next to a strip club, a secret code that leads to a walk through the bathrooms, complete with broken urinal and underwear hanging in the preceding alleyway,  and down the back of a café, and then a letting in performance which takes us into a cozy, sumptuous speakeasy with jazz lounge vibes. Mismatched furniture in group huddles, low lighting, lamps and a large, smiling man who declares he is our “menu”. We tell him the sort of things we like, and are served up delights in both food and drink.

Friday, despite heavy heads, we are picked up by our driver for a trip to Franschhoek. We’re doing the Wine Tram, although as it turns out, we don’t get on the tram at all. This is my fault, for booking too late. Nonetheless, the tram bus is just as fun, the weather continues to play ball, and we spend the day drinking wine and eating delicious bites in the most glorious environments.

This must be one of the most spectacular of any wine region I’ve stuck my nose into. Towering granite “ewige gebergtes” (eternal mountains) with “kranse wat antwoord gee” (cliffs that give answers) from the third verse of the South African anthem, backdrop everything. The panorama is expansive. Rows of old vines, lush green grass and leafy trees in gold and orange hues spread out to the horizon. And the vibe is relaxed, the service attentive and the conversation as sparkling as a Méthode Cap Classique – South African champagne. They don’t pour in half measures, and by the end of it, we are garrulous and unable to walk in a straight line.

There are multiple wineries to visit, but we stop at Allee Bleue, Bartinney and finish at Boschendal. There we find wines lusciously smooth, sophisticated and delicious. I indulge in Chenin everywhere, my favourite grape and introduce our friends to Pinotage – a unique varietal to this part of the world. South Africa can trace its wine roots back to 1659. It’s older by some margin – 150 years – than Australian wine. And you can taste it. And yet, when I come back home to Australia and search for it, the market is largely bare of its delicious fruits. A pity.

We wrap up the weekend with a parkrun in Green Point. Parasailers are running off Signal Hill and launching themselves into the sky. Distinctive Lions Head, rocky and pointed is orange in the early light. The air smells heavily of the sea crashing nearby and runners in all shapes, sizes and colours are pounding the pavement.

A school boy rugby match stokes our inner South African. Intensely noisy and so crowded we struggle to find seats takes up the afternoon. It is one of those moments when I remember how special it is to be a South African. How proudly South African I actually am. For the remainder of the weekend we visit with cousins – catch up on family, reconnect as adults in a different stage of life.

We could spend another week here. But our four days gives us a taste for more. Full of the delights of the Cape, we leave with connection back to family, friends and the place that still prescribes so much of who we are, and perhaps will ever be.

Adventuring onwards,

Sharlene (May 2026)