Meandering Through Old Photographs

I spent far too long a couple of days ago perusing old photograph albums, and was surprised to see this picture.  It was taken at the top of Table Mountain in South Africa in July 1997.

I’d walked up the mountain in a small group, led by an eccentric guide, woolly jumper, knobbly knees and forthright opinions, with whom I’d been put in touch by the Tourist Information Office.  I remember the walk very clearly; it was such a beautiful day, and a steep climb providing a satisfying breathlessness.  The cable car was out of action and the only way to the top was on foot, so there weren’t that many people at the top, and a great experience came out of a necessity.

What is surprising about the photograph is the blueness of the sky and its reflection in the water.  It’s not that the blueness of itself is a surprise; it’s that it’s part of my tale of my visit to SA that the sky was unbelievably blue, deep dark blue on the sunniest of days.  Bluer than those of us used to a watery aquamarine and occasional glint of sunshine could ever imagine.

I have a painting in my living room that I bought at a gallery in Constantia (in the first week of my trip, at the outset of which I had vowed to buy nothing…..) which has a nearly navy blue sky in it.  Whenever anyone comments on its darkness I always insist that the sky really was that colour, but in reality I think I’d forgotten the truth in that statement.

But here is the proof.

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