Peninsular road trip

Kommetjie: I've got a chilled and dark half pint of Mitchell's 90 Shilling draught in my hand, served to me by the friendliest Malawian barman (going by the unexpected name of Franco). Back to my hand - it's reeking of the long 'prime cut' russian sausage and chilli 'slap' chips - marinated in sea salt and black vinegar - I got at the typical old days corner cafe 'Kommetjie Supermarket' next door, before devouring it all on a low wall across the road.

After leaving Simonstown at dusk I opted to take the road less travelled via Cape Point, then Scarborough. Windswept and enticingly moody in the soon inky darkness, this was a landscape I'd last traversed in 1983 as a spotty, hormoned teenager angry (but not sure why) at the world.

Sitting indoors next to a fire, and not far from a dodgy gambling area reeking of stale alcohol and old cigarettes, I'm contemplating life. And getting slightly numbed by the draught. It's an opportunity to again make choice: am I going to sow nettles, or am I going to sow corn?

(The photos are of Simonstown.)