If you know me at all…you will know I’m not an outdoorsy kinda gal. Rarely will I be found in the open air without a fag in hand polluting my lungs and those around me. But in Cape Town it seems people take advantage of their proximity to not just some of the most glorious beaches but also to some of the steepest hills known to man.

In the spirit of trying all things new, I made a commitment to my sis that I would go hiking. I sort of thought this might be one of those activities you pop on your imaginary list of things to do and never actually follow through.

But yesterday I found myself agreeing to a 4pm hike up Lion’s Head.

I put it down to the double gin and tonics and the beer and the rum and cokes that I’d joyfully imbibed in some of Cape Town’s well known drinking establishments.

Thinking back on it…I must have still been drunk.

I am no billy goat. I don’t skip joyfully up stairs. If there is a lift I will always take it.

But there I was clad….once again…in Lycra.

There seems to be a running theme in my activities in South Africa. Never have I worn so much Lycra through choice!

I’d even been persuaded to don a bum bag….

Off we charged…first few minutes were fine. So far so good and indeed I was feeling quite good about my general well being and ability to climb. This wouldn’t be so bad…

But then it started to get steeper. My thighs…and what little muscle they contain began to burn.
My tar coated lungs began to wheeze and I knew that this would be a struggle.

I thought I might not make it…in fact at points along the way I wanted to sit myself down and light up a fag and wait for Chanda’s return. But once again, pesky pride got in the way and I kept going.

Despite the wind, the pain and the wheezing that should only come from a 90 year old with bronchitis, I kept going.

Winding around that damn hill….which does not for the record look anything like a bloody lion…

We made it though.

High winds stopped us from reaching the actual summit…TBTG…but we were within spitting distance.

And then what did we do?!

Turn right back round…

That’s it…no picnic, no smoke break…just trudging back down to the bottom again!

Chanda appeared to be racing to be the clock on the way back down…giving me no time to rest or indeed catch my breath.

I forced the issue by pretending to enjoy the view…nice as it was it was merely a way for me to stop and let my weary, chubby body pause for breath

As I smoked my cigarette on the last stretch to the car park I was at least pleased to know that I had not been defeated…by probably the easiest hike in Cape Town…as the old folk who we passed on the way down will testify!