Remembering the best years of my life in Fish Hoek

SITTING in the breakfast room of my hotel which overlooks Fish Hoek beach, I was overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of this small but beautiful holiday village, which sits at the start of the Cape Peninsula.

“Wrinklies”, or retired senior residents, were strutting their stuff on the beach.

Many carried boogie boards, some wore swimming caps and all looked healthy, despite advanced age.

The majority of these indomitable citizens swim in a sheltered corner of the bay all year.

As I continued to watch the day-to-day activities, the breakfast room was pervaded by the scent from a plethora of wild flowers growing outside the windows – all of which were indigenous to the Cape.

For 33 years I lived and worked in South Africa and, for me, the best years were definitely those spent in Fish Hoek.

Returning for my final holiday to the Cape, I was overwhelmed with memories of all those past years, the friends and colleagues, the sweep of False Bay, the beach walks on both sides of the peninsula and, most of all, the people who live and work side by side.

The apartheid years seem a lifetime away to me now.

As a journalist it was difficult to see some of the horrors and then report on them.

To convey in words what really happened, on both sides of the apartheid chasm, was like walking a tightrope over Victoria Falls.

The stringent press laws of the time meant that subtlety was the key in trying to get any kind of message across.

Several of my colleagues died as a result of going into “war zones” in order to report on or photograph the news.

But happily, all of that is in the past and the Cape, which is beautiful at any time of the year, is just as magnificent as ever.