(Hello / I see you, South Africa!)
From sunrise yoga above Cape Town to silent encounters on safari, South Africa promises to make you feel both wildly small and strangely present.
Words, images and video Kate Gazzard
(Hello / I see you, South Africa!)
From sunrise yoga above Cape Town to silent encounters on safari, South Africa has a way of making you feel both wildly small and strangely present.
Words, images and video Kate Gazzard
There’s a formula to travelling through South Africa, and you’ll remember it by the five S’s;
There’s a formula to travelling through South Africa, and you’ll remember it by the five S’s;
Leave behind all your expectations and you’re guaranteed to have an excellent experience. This isn’t me talking btw, it’s my guide, Errol, from Divine Tours, who’s been charged with taking me around Cape Town.
I’d been to South Africa once before, but this was my first time in Cape Town, and almost instantly I understood why people become slightly insufferable after visiting here. The city has range. One minute you’re enjoying an enormous buffet breakfast beside the ocean at the Intercontinental at Table Bay, the next you’re staring up at Table Mountain wondering how a place can look so photogenic.
Which is exactly how I ended up doing sunrise yoga on top of a mountain while regretting every stretch session I’ve skipped in the past five years (it's a lot).
Deep breathing is easy with a view like this.
The experience with In Motion starts early, but as the cable car climbs and the city slowly reveals itself, even the least spiritual person in our group starts acting suspiciously reflective (it’s me, I’m the least spiritual person).
There’s something deeply humbling about attempting balance poses while standing above one of the most beautiful cities in the world. The Atlantic glitters off in the distance, the air feels impossibly fresh, and the constant static noise in my brain starts to quieten down a bit.
The clearest of clear days for our excursion up Table Mountain.
Stretching has never felt (or looked) better.
Not disappear completely, obvs. I’m still thinking about the buffet.
But for an hour or so, life becomes very simple. Breathe in. Stretch. Try not to fall over in front of the women around me nailing the 'downward dog' pose much better than I am. Repeat.
Has to be one of the most scenic drives in the world.
I'd spent maybe 24 hours here at this point, and I could already tell that Cape Town would practically force me into the present moment, mostly because the scenery refused to let me ignore it. That feeling continued as I climbed into an open-air Jeep with Jeep Tours Cape Town for a drive out towards Chapman’s Peak.
10/10. No notes.
If there’s a more dramatic stretch of road on Earth, I haven’t seen it. To be fair, I haven’t driven down the Pacific Coast Hwy in the US or the Wild Atlantic Way in Ireland, but I feel like the drive to Chapman’s Peak gives them both a run for their money.
It twists between mountain and ocean in an almost fake way, like somebody fed ‘insanely beautiful coastal road’ into ChatGPT. Massive cliffs rise up on one side, while white tipped waves crash far below, on the other, and every few minutes we turn another corner that offers views even better than the last - if that's even possible.
The best part, though, is how exposed I felt to everything around me. The wind, the salt air, the sudden drops beside the road. And doing it in a Jeep meant that the barrier between me and the landscape was stripped away. It felt unreal.
Inside the Intercontinental is just as pretty as outside.
Ahhh and that view???
Back at the Intercontinental, things slow down slightly (read: they get less windy). Sitting on the V&A Waterfront with Table Mountain towering behind it, the hotel is polished without being overly stuffy. Like, you can definitely order a cocktail after a long day and immediately convince yourself you should move to Cape Town permanently.
This is a dangerous mindset. Apparently, it happens to people all the time here, but I wouldn't know; I had to come home (eye roll).
Nothing compares to being on safari.
But while Cape Town delivers energy, movement and oceanside glamour, a safari brings something else. Silence.
A short flight later, I arrived at Kapama Private Game Reserve, where I stayed at the Kapama River Lodge. The shift in atmosphere was immediate. Gone were the city sounds and busy streets, replaced by open bushveld, distant birdsong and the occasional animal sighting. And that was just on our way from Hoedspruit airport.
River Lodge strikes the right balance of luxury with an authentic connection to the landscape. There are soft linens and beautiful suites, yes, but there’s also an understanding that the real reason you’re here exists outside the lodge walls.
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And safari, it turns out, is difficult to describe without sounding dramatic. But I’ll have a crack.
People talk about ‘life-changing wildlife encounters’ so often that the phrase starts to lose meaning a little. But I found myself sitting quietly in an open vehicle at sunrise while a giraffe and her baby ambled slowly across the road in front of me, and suddenly every cliché felt completely justified.
Game drives at Kapama are famous for delivering sightings of the Big Five. But they also offer something you won’t expect; perspective.
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Watching elephants move between the trees with their boisterous babies. Hearing lions somewhere in the distance before you see them. Realising how noisy modern life normally is once you spend time somewhere that isn’t filled with constant notifications, traffic or background sound.
At one point, Phillip, our guide, stopped the vehicle entirely. No talking. No cameras clicking. Just silence stretching out across the reserve while the morning sun turned the grass gold around us.
I felt emotional. Which, if you've read the account of my last trip to South Africa, is very on brand.
But I didn't feel emotional in a super dramatic way. More in the sense that I realised how rarely I'd ever allowed myself to stop completely.
That same feeling followed me into the Kapama Wellness Centre, where their version of safari wellness involved me being covered in a mineral-rich mask during a traditional Rasul treatment while attempting to suck in enough air to keep myself conscious.
Then, somehow, emerging afterwards feeling incredible (and baby butt smooth).
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The guided meditation session was equally grounding. Spirituality wasn't forced on me. There was no influencer-style ‘healing journey’ energy. Just the opportunity to slow my breathing, unclench my jaw, relax my overactive shoulders, and exist without multitasking for a while.
South Africa excels at this balance.
Adventure without chaos. Luxury without pretension. Wellness without making you discuss your inner child beside a bowl of quinoa. And by the end of the trip, I understood the deeper meaning behind “Sawubona”, the Zulu greeting that translates roughly to “I see you.”
The big guy in his element.
South Africa did make me feel seen.
Not in the curated, polished version of myself that exists online, but the actual human underneath all the noise. The getting-eight-hours-of-sleep-a-night-but-still-always-tired version. The do-I-really-have-to-do-this-for-the-next-forty-years-of-my-life version. But in the same breath, the I'm-so-damn-lucky-I-get-to-do-this version. The one that had forgotten how good it feels to be fully present somewhere new.
Cape Town woke me up. But safari slowed me down.
And between the city and the savannah, the traffic and the sound of impalas chewing through the morning, South Africa reminded me what it feels like to actually be here. Properly here.
I’ll try not to forget that again.
get in the know You can visit Oudtshoorn, where an early 1900s ostrich-feather boom briefly made people rich beyond reason, creating so-called 'feather barons' who built extravagant mansions that still stand today.
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