Seller's Sadness

So much has been happening in our lives during the last three months that it's been difficult to know how to describe it.

We've lived in our big old house on the slopes of Table Mountain for sixteen years.  It's been fun living near a large city in an area buzzing with life; restaurants, coffee shops and book shops and beautiful parks all around, but the time has come to make the move to a quieter and less stressful way of life.  We've always dreamed of a seaside cottage out in the country and for many years Betty's Bay seemed to be a good choice.

So the house went on the market and a few stress-filled months ensued.  Keeping a home in immaculate order, ready for viewing at extremely short notice, at all times of the day is exhausting.  Then there were the show house days with prospective buyers trooping through your beloved rooms and describing how they would decorate, leaving you feeling as if you've been discovered in your underwear.  Anyway the right people came along at last, a nice couple with young children, and the deal was done.

In the meantime we found an interesting house in Betty's Bay, a row back from the sea, so we can still hear the waves and see the ocean from the first floor balconies, but not have to contend with seaspray covered windows.  It's set in a beautiful fynbos garden with magnificent mountain views from every window.  I'm going to have to learn a completely new type of gardening but it'll be a lot less labour intensive.

During all this upheaval, a flat had to be found for the youngest daughter who has been living back at home during her Masters year at Stellenbosch University.  After several nail biting weeks we found a neat little place in Greenpoint, a vibey area (a term beloved by estate agents) close to the Waterfront and the beach, so she'll be able to move in just before we move out.  Moving day for us is mid-November and we're now in the throes of packing up all our possessions.

Do we feel said about leaving?  Yes, this has been a happy house for us.  My first daughter was married from here and I remember occasions like my fiftieth when I made a birthday speech with a tiny new grandson cardled in my arms.  Then there were wedding anniversaries and birthdays, parties and friends to stay.  Sad times when the daughter and her family emigrated to Australia and both sets of grandparents passed away.  The consolation of the younger daughter returning home after ten years in London to stay at home while retraining for a second career, from opera singing to philosophy!

I will miss the days when the city bowl baked in the heat of summer; the times when the wind blasted around the house tumbling potplants and garden chairs; the rains of winter when the garden transformed into improbable shades of green; the soft balmy nights sitting outside in the dark, watching the chain of twinkling lights as crazy people made the new moon ascent of Lion's Head.

In the early mornings when I take my coffee out to the verandah I listen to the sounds of the city waking up while wild ducks and hadedas fly overhead and I hear a rooster crowing in the tiny farm on the slopes of Signal Hill.  The salty fresh air drifts up from the harbour, the fog horn booms its mournful cry and my heart is sad.  I know I will miss this place very much.

Saturday in Pictures

The DSLR continues to gather dust as the days go by.  I'm having such fun with my new phone which accompanies me where ever I go - not for the phone itself, you understand, but for the Hipstamatic App.  Even Saturday chores and errands turn into photo opportunities without the hassle of carrying a heavy camera and lens around.

The day began with breakfast and coffee at The Waterfront, along with half of Cape Town, due to the rather chilly and misty morning.  Once again we mused over the difference in lifestyle today compared to our "youth".  The concept of a shopping mall being a destination choice of so many people at weekends  is quite amazing, but then again, The Waterfront is not just your average mall.  Apart from the usual glamorous hotels,boutiques, restaurants and the book, music and coffee shops, it's situated in the middle of a working harbour tugboats, large vessels and sleek ocean going yachts lie at their moorings while the piercing cries of gulls mingle with the sound of the chatter and music at waterside restaurants.

Next stop was the plant nursery to stock up on petunias for the wind battered and sunburnt garden.  Powerful South Easters (the prevailing summertime winds of the Cape) and days of crushing heat once the wind stops,  have flattened all the spring annuals and scorched the roses.  Watering becomes a daily chore necessitating an early beginning to the day to finish before the heat sets in.

Driving back into town, still clicking away with the camera, the sight of Lion's Head, which has a steep climb up to the peak and a popular moonlit hike once a month. From our backyard we can see the twinkling torch lights of the hikers in the dark as they wind their way up to the summit.  On a whim we to took a drive up to Signal Hill which lies to its right.  As Capetonians we seldom visit the well known tourist sites other than when showing visitors around.  I'm sure it's the same for most people who live in popular tourist cities but, just occasionally, we need to be reminded how lucky we are to live with a mountain in our backyards and the ocean surrounding our spectacular Cape Peninsula.

The view from the top of Signal Hill is quite staggering.  It begins with Table Mountain itself, the city centre and suburbs nestling at its foot, and sweeps across the harbour and the never ending blue expanse of the sea and then around to the Atlantic suburbs crouched at the  base of  The Twelve Apostles Peaks and the beautiful azure beaches, lined with white sand and dotted with sun worshippers.  The spectacular panorama  temporarily silences visitors as they emerge from their cars to marvel at the sight.  Everyone who arrives is drawn to the viewing platform where the faint sounds of the city and sea drift upwards

I concentrated on taking pictures towards Table Mountain and out over the city as the glare on the seaward side made it impossible to see the the tiny camera screen.  Another visit at sunset perhaps, with the SLR and tripod.

The mountain to the left of the picture is Devil's Peak ...

... and the dot on the right top of Table Mountain is the upper station of the cablecar.

Lion's Head - different angle, different lens.

On the way home our usual route was closed off due to filming activity near our house, a serendipitous event as we had to take a detour along this jacaranda lined street, with its lavender carpet of fallen blossoms.

 

After getting home I walked down the road to sneak a peek at the filming activity and on the way back I stopped to enjoy some of the tiny scenes which often go unnoticed around us.