There’s a magic in rediscovering a place you used to call home, writes Miriam Kimvangu.
I think it’s easy to take a place for granted. No matter how beautiful of a city you live in, you don’t truly get to explore because in your mind, it will always be there when you do decide to go. Yet the decision never gets made. That is the position I found myself in when I was told that we were leaving Cape Town. I’m not sure if I was more devastated about the fact that we were leaving or because of the realisation that I hadn’t seen everything I wanted to. What ensued was weeks of many adventures through our home as if we were tourists.
I vowed to myself as a teen that wherever I lived, I would explore with as much love and awe as a tourist lived. Now I’m back again, 12 years later, with a chance to do it all again as an adult. Have I been to Table Mountain? Yes. But what’s the harm in doing it again?
I had to decide whether to take the cable car or hike up the mountain. Most locals who actually make the effort to visit tend to hike, almost like an unspoken badge of honour, but I figured if I was going to rediscover Cape Town properly, I might as well go full tourist. No half measures. Besides, I was one of the only locals and nothing says “I know this place well” like confidently choosing the scenic route while pretending you have done it a hundred times before.
At first, I tried to play it cool. I had been up Table Mountain before, after all. That composure lasted about three to five business minutes.
I was completely in awe of the plant life and vegetation scattered across the mountain. The variety, the textures, and especially the way the dew made everything look, all of it fascinated me. I felt like I was cosplaying as a hobbit in a Tolkien film who got distracted by the pretty elven plants
It felt strangely familiar, mirroring the first time I visited the mountain as a 12 year old. Even the weather seemed to cooperate with the nostalgia. It was deceivingly clear when the day started, but as Murphy would have it, the tablecloth decided to make an appearance. I can’t say I didn’t love it. It only further fuelled my main character syndrome.
Of course, my excitement made me slightly reckless. If I did not have relatively quick reflexes, I probably would have tripped over the side of the mountain from how fast I was buzzing around. There is something about being surrounded by so much beauty that makes you forget basic things like watching where you step.
Beyond the vegetation and the atmosphere, there was the view. No matter how long you have lived in Cape Town, or how many times you have visited the mountain, the sight from the top never really gets old.
Because of this, I made sure to wait patiently for the clouds to clear just enough to reveal the city below. I wanted to capture the moment properly, knowing that I could easily go any time I want to, but still needing to commit the moment to memory. Some experiences are worth slowing down for.
What struck me most was how easily we stop noticing the things that surround us every day. When you begin to treat everyday fixtures as something special, your relationship with a place changes. You start to see it with intention. You pay attention. You appreciate.
For me, having moved away when I was young and now returning to experience the city independently has completely reshaped my perspective. Rediscovering Cape Town as an adult, making my own choices, wandering at my own pace and allowing myself to be fully present in each moment has made me see the city in an entirely new light. It is both familiar and unfamiliar at once.
And maybe that is the real joy of returning. Not simply revisiting home, but meeting it again as the woman I’ve become.
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