Morningwalk

It’s been a few moons since my last windmill to blockhouse walk. And wouldn’t you know, the windmill is complete. Fully restored at last. Ok maybe they still have one sail to raise. It was the Cape Argus cycle race - which I’d forgotten. It’s South Africa’s most prestigious race. I’m a what? A bicyclist rather than a cyclist. I have mixed feelings about the sports cycling community. They are arguably a hindrance weirdly to bicycles being prioritised as a mode of transport. But the distaste for them frequently goes dangerously too far.

A perfect winter’s day here in Africa. Update on the cultists: I saw a few close up and they seem very nice. I’ve started to find them reassuring. I also encountered some coming down from above Rhodes Memorial (I inferred they weren’t hikers as one seldom hikes with a large black hardcover book in hand). If people are going to be religious, I think incorporating serious physical activity is a cracking idea in our sedentary society. ...

Despite having some expensive sunglasses ruined by the wind ripping them off my shirt and skidding them - lenses down - for 50m across a tarred road, the irritation I woke up with couldnt stand up to Table Mountain Park at dawn. This has to be among the best city parks on Earth. I’m not quite fit enough to run up the steep mountainside to the “King’s Blockhouse” (a grandiose name for a very tiny little fort) so, since I was scrambling anyway, I could take my camera. I was remembering how this seemed like quite a big hike even as a teenager. I was clearly very unfit then.