The Magic of Muzienberg

The sounds of waves, like an applause just for me. 7am: I look out. Not many surfers in yet, but only a matter of time. Blink and you’ll miss it.

The sun has leapt up the sky like it’s late for an appointment. How can it be half way high already? And the sky is bluer than blue. As if clouds have spilled white paint onto blue as a parting gift. Then exited left. Leaving people to play under the canvas.

All the surfers here are all gorgeous. Naturally, glowing! A few steps around ‘Surfer’s Corner’ carries you to cafés serving food bowls as bright as the sky. Remember your sunglasses. The smell of coffee mingles with giggles from bars and smiles as big as sunsets. Afternoon jazz holds hands with tales of lovers unsung in upstairs bedrooms.

The accommodation is good here. And the owners of my sea-facing spot – African Soul Surfer – live and breathe surfing. They watch the waves with their breakfast, run surf lessons for guests, then watch surfing competition videos on the hostel TV.

“Don’t wait for dreams to happen, life is better at the beach!” is the hostel motto. Sounds right.

There’s weightlessness to words and waves here. They pull you up the sky and into shore like a silent childhood friend. I have never surfed like this... and never will again.

“I saw you loving it so much, I just had to grab a board!”, a smiley local woman reveals to me as she drifts up alongside.

Entrenched in the past, yet this day has hauled itself forward into my daily present. Like riding a quiet tsunami wave to shore. Almost showing off.

Perhaps this is the magic of Muzienberg.