Editor’s Note

Instead of spending New Year with close friends and immediate family, I found myself in the seaside village of Gordon’s Bay in the Western Cape. My father’s memorial in June last year had been a reunion with cousins not seen for 20 years. When my father’s brother died a few months later, we spent time together again. Amazed by how many years had gone by without catching up, we resolved to spend a few days over the festive season getting back in touch and remembering the wonderful holidays we’d had with our fathers in that little harbour town.

Not much has changed there, besides the ever-more grandiose houses that line the hillside overlooking Bikini Beach — mansions in styles ranging from Moroccan palaces to turreted castles to Clifton-esque monstrosities. The harbour, full of yachts clanging their masts together in the South Easter like wind chimes, is the same. I remember walks along its sturdy walls looking at the seals with my dad — or heading out for a sunset booze cruise on my uncle’s boat, the Sea Dog. The Gordon’s Bay Yacht club hosted New Year’s eve — a casual affair for locals who all know each other and know how to party.

A piece of chalk on each table was an invitation to write on a wall titled 2024 Dreams. It abounded with the usual clichés, “unity”, “love”, “world peace — because I already have everything else”, “health, wealth and happiness”.

Back at the Bikini Beach house, a few hours into 2024, I found a better message for the year ahead written on a piece of drift wood and hung on the bathroom wall. “Advice from a sea turtle: Swim with the current. Be a good navigator. Stay calm under pressure. Be well travelled. Age gracefully and, above all else, always return to the beach.”