from tear-filled hugs at the airport where untangling from each other’s limbs feels like a feat more impossible than that of headphone wires, to silently leaving whatsapp group chats, goodbyes can come in many shapes and sizes.
my first goodbye in capetown came on tuesday. i was at the beach with a friend, and after hours of dancing with our usual cheeky chats, the reality that we wouldn’t see each other again, at least for a little while, came and crashed our party. we had our hugs, said our goodbyes, and parted ways quite democratically. left alone at the beach, it hit me that this goodbye would be the first of many to come.
so i pushed my flight back.
it wasn’t all downhill from there, but let’s just say that the slope got slipperier. conveniently, just when i’ve managed to figure out which switch turns what light on in my flat.
oh cape town, i had no business being here. when people asked me why i chose to spend my month off here, i told them that my reason for coming was because of the weather. why stay in berlin and sentence myself to another month of winter? a vacation isn’t a vacation unless it’s spent under the sun.
oh cape town, i really did have no business being here. in addition to being warm, i wanted to exist elsewhere — to come to an unfamiliar place and leave with a coloured in canvas. this evening i redirected my uber to take a faster route home, i’m no local but i’d be lying if i said i hadn’t flirted with the idea.
goodbyes for me come in waves. two nights ago was first thursday, which is, let me tell you, a big deal in cape town. every first thursday of the month, the streets shut down so shops and galleries can serve wine and blast pitbull or jamiroquai (depending on what street you’re on) to celebrate, well, life.
for whatever reason, what bubbled to the top that evening was not a pét nat, but rather feelings of sadness towards my looming departure. so, i excused myself, went home, and took a bath. i used to be the type to always need to go out with a bang, but if i stayed out that night, i would have just been firing blanks.
honouring the emotions that bubbled to the surface was just another part of me being me somewhere else.
i really did have no business being here. what was a girl from tokyo doing in cape town? my first night here, i slept with a knife on my bedside table because a friend cued me in on all of the times she and her friends had been mugged. was i being a bit dramatic, yes. but it felt right at the time. the next day, i bought myself some pepper spray because it felt like the next right thing to do (don’t worry mom, it never got used. just taking the necessary precautionary measures). i won’t bore you with the details of load shedding and how one navigates days sprinkled with the power turning off, but let’s just say i had to get out of my comfort zone in more ways than one.
my experience here wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, but arguably not too far off (things picked up after camps bay). this slice of the world has something special to it. i don’t think i’ve ever been in a place where i’ve dreamt more about what my life could be like. yes, i was on vacation so doing so was embedded in the itinerary, but i went right along with it.
i cringe with excitement thinking about the resurfacing of the postcards i wrote during the height of my cape town experience (this was also the first time i hand-delivered my postcards to the postman because apparently, the postboxes here are just performative).
i also don’t think i’ve ever laughed so much in one place in such a short span of time. i distinctly recall texting my father those exact words on a night when i felt a six-pack chiseling itself onto my abdomen. every morning, i would be giggling as i recounted the events of the previous day in my little blue notebook. i was in disbelief that these things, that i could have only dreamed of, actually happened.
i got very lucky with the cards that the universe, or whoever is up there, dealt me.
a friend told me that goodbyes are done best when they end on a high. here, it feels like the lowest low will always be high. i guess that’s just what happens here in the southern hemisphere — the sun takes a bit of the edge off.
i don’t want to say that it’s time to get back to reality because reality will always be what is right there in front of me. i know that i’ll carry these gems i’ve collected back to berlin in my carry-on.
i’ve given my hugs, had my last glass of wine at publik (the wine bar that became my second home), and my electric toothbrush has just run out of battery. all signs are pointing to this chapter of my life coming to a close. maybe it is time for me to open the check in reminder email from KLM.
the best goodbyes are goodbyes in theory, but not really in practice. i like to dance between the line of goodbye and see you later. wrap it all up in a bow of gratitude, and both parties can go on with their lives knowing that if it’s meant to be, your paths will cross again.
the end date of things has a rude tendency to make things feel that much more meaningful.
i really did have no business being here, yet you, dear cape town, welcomed me in with open arms. to say you showed me a good time was an understatement of the highest degree.
now that’s all out of my system, i think i can finally say goodbye.
