Everyone

I may have given a wrong impression of the place in which we are staying. Fish Hoek is not a pretty town, not by any stretch of the imagination.  Fish Hoek beach is not a tranquil, beautiful beach in a remote place, one in which to find peace and quiet; nor is it a place people come to pose and prance and drink cocktails. The place doesn’t get a mention in Lonely Planet; it is not on any tour itinerary, rather it’s a place most people drive through to get to much more glamorous places like Simon’s Town or Kalk Bay (actually most people stop at Kalk Bay and don’t go any further round False Bay). 

But we like it, just because it isn’t any of those things. It is an ordinary town, but one that is not full of gift shops and cafes. And the beach is a delight. It is one of the safest, most sheltered beaches in the country and is frequented by locals, and people who live sort of local and drive in to the huge car park by the beach. At weekends it is very busy with lots of activities going on, but there is still room for everyone. In the week it is fairly quiet but, as schools finish and people come home from work, they all drift down to the beach – to walk, to swim, to sit, to chat, to play. There is a playground, but no amusements. There are no Burger Bars, but a large café, where one can sit in the shade or the sun and order coffee, beer, wine and any kinds of food, or ice cream. Add the almost guaranteed sun for a lot of the year and you have the perfect family/social place. That’s why we like it.


However, looking at a scene like this, where every age, race, colour, creed, nationality mixes freely, it is hard to imagine a time, not that long ago,  when this beach was for ‘white  persons’ only, when ‘coloured persons’ were forcibly removed from Fish Hoek. A sobering thought and then it is not difficult to understand why the country is still uneasy, unsettled and has to be given time to come to terms with its past.