03/05/2026
From my window...
We chase beauty like itās something far awayā¦ stamped in passports and wrapped in foreign air.
But this weekend reminded me how easily we forget whatās right in front of us.
Shaun and I slipped away to Franschhoek, and somewhere between the mountains and the vineyards, something softened in me.
A quiet remembering.
The town whispered.
In details. In textures. In the way everything felt gently, intentionally placed.
For a moment, I felt like Iād wandered into Europeā¦ but deeper than that, I felt present.
We took the wine tram ā slow, almost nostalgic ā and it carried us into spaces we would never have visited on our own.
Farms, cellars, galleries on every corner and menus with words I've only heard on master chef.
We had tastings and pairings (and if weāre honest, a little day drinking ā because those spit buckets donāt stand a chance).
But it was never just about the wine.
It was the vineyards stretching endlessly in their autumn colours, like a breath held and released.
Cellars that felt like stories.
A Neptune crowned with fynbos, as if even the statues belonged to the land.
Restaurants spilling onto pavements, alive and unpretentious.
An Irish coffee that arrived with care, like a small ceremony.
And somewhere in all of it, I realisedā¦
there truly is art in everything.
Not because everything is perfect ā
but because we choose to see it.
We donāt always need to go far to feel moved.
Sometimes, the most extraordinary places are the ones weāve overlooked.
And if I ever get angel wingsā¦ I hope theyāre painted on a quiet little wall, in a town that feels like a piece of art š¤
