The only place my boat will ever want to sink its anchor – Struisbaai, Western Cape, South Africa. 

I always thought that my love for Struisbaai stemmed from the people I had around me while I was there. Though the people were always lovely, they usually came and left, but my love for Struisbaai never changed. I realized for once that it was never the people, but it was the way I felt when I was there. It was the one place I had felt completely content in. I’ve always wondered why this small town near the Southern Tip of Africa gripped my heart so, and I’ve decided it will never be pin-pointed to an exact reason. Struisbaai took my heart in many ways and for many reasons. 

It was the way you could always count on a pretty sky. Even if it was August and you had way too many jackets layered over each other – the clouds still had a mesmerizing way of looking like art. During hot summers the sunsets were always indescribably beautiful. But even if it was just a plain old bright blue sky – that was enough to make me thank God for His paintbrush. 

It was also in the way I could walk for hours on end and never be bored – there was always something to see. Be it a man and a labrador sharing a two-man kayak or a group of sting rays at the harbor, Struisbaai had a way of being alive. Whether the beach was packed to its brim or completely barren – there was always something waiting to be seen.

It was all the places in proximity that left you wanting to discover more. L’Agulhas with it’s mountain hikes, the lighthouse, rock pools and the Southern Tip. Arniston having the most breathtaking sea caves. De Mond with water so clear that leads into the ocean along the longest beach in the Southern Hemisphere. All the surrounding farms waiting for their wine to be experienced and their food to be enjoyed. There was never a doubt in my mind that there was something waiting to be seen next.

It was how you could really be with people there. You could sit for hours in sea shack talking about anything and everything with your big sisters, parents or best friends. You could go to small bars and meet strange and wonderful new people, and maybe learn how to sokkie in between it all. Or you could just sit on the beach quietly without even saying anything – and that time spent together was more precious than anything. 

I guess it all comes down to how I feel when I’m there. It’s cliché to say it feels like home, but it feels more like home than the area I’ve lived in for 18 years in my life ever has. I’ll always want to travel the world – this boat of mine wants to go many places. But that’s what home is – having a feeling so wholesome that no matter how many times your boat sets sail, you will always come back for that feeling.

By Mila Ottavini