Table Mountain opened for forty minutes. We took it. The rest of the day was ocean.
Cape Town teaches weather as a social skill. You learn to leave the café when the cloud lifts. From the table the city is a map you already walked: harbour, mountain, the long peninsula arguing with two oceans.
I drove south until the road became an idea. Penguins at Boulders, which are ridiculous and therefore necessary. Dinner in Woodstock, wine from a farm whose name I wrote in the back of the atlas.