Mountainous expectations

Ok. So this was my SMS to a jealous friend the night before: “Guess where I am dining tomorrow night? TABLE MOUNTAIN! Yes, I know… (smiley face)”

Yesterday I kept checking the weather and had said jealous friend phoning the airport for updated weather reports.

“Is it going to rain? Are there going to be some clouds on the mountain?”

Not sure. Not sure.

At 16:00, Boss Lady (aka editor’s wife) says the event is happening.

I rush to my flat, charge my camera’s battery, speed off to the cable car station to meet Boss Lady, and up we go – along with about a hundred or more others. So much for exclusivity.

Following the crowd, we get to the newly renovated and what is now known as Table Mountain Caf. Inside, the crowd mingles in a haphazard fashion, hovering around dishes stacked with finger foods. Durbanville Hills is the wine of the night, being one of the Distell ranges offered at the highest caf in Cape Town but hardly representative of the variety of wines that the Cape (and South Africa for that matter) has on offer. I mean, it’s important stuff, this being a tourist hotspot and all

The caf or canteen (seems the organisers could not decide on the right term) has a new menu: it is now halaal and offers pizzas and sushi. All prepared in a kitchen which is situated at the bottom cable car. Also, you will be enjoying your salmon roses from biodegradable dishes – a nice green touch.

I did not linger inside too long, but fortunately you don’t need much publicity when you are situated on top of a revered mountain.

At least Boss Lady got a Table Mountain Caf mug

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