Cape Town in Three Days: Sea, Dogs, and a Slightly Numb Butt

There’s something quietly unhinged about deciding to plunge your mostly naked body into the Atlantic Ocean off the rocks at Camps Bay. Especially when the water’s temperature could legally be classified as a hate crime. But when in Cape Town, do as the Capetonians do — which apparently includes voluntarily freezing your soul into a higher state of consciousness. I joined a group of maniacs (read: local legends) for a cold plunge off the granite boulders while the sun beamed overhead like a warm, smiling lie. It was brutal. It was glorious. I’d do it again.

Sea Point: Where Dogs Outnumber People
My base was Sea Point — a part of Cape Town where joggers roam free, smoothie bowls abound, and the promenade is the social epicenter for retirees, models, and anyone with a golden retriever. I walked the promenade each morning with the vague intention of exercising but mostly to pet strangers’ dogs and inhale the salty sea air like it owed me money. The energy here is mellow with just the right amount of Cape Town cool. Think: ocean views, a peppering of shirtless optimism, and at least five different types of iced coffee within walking distance.

Camps Bay: Where the Rich Tan and the Rest Gawk
Camps Bay is what happens when someone says, “I want mountains and ocean views,” and the universe shrugs and delivers. With its palm-lined beachfront, absurdly attractive people, and sunsets that should come with a PG rating, Camps Bay straddles the line between luxury and laid-back. I parked off at a café with a front-row seat to the beach and watched the world drift by — surfers, sunbathers, that guy trying to sell sunglasses to someone already wearing sunglasses.

After the cold plunge, I rewarded myself with fish tacos and a beer, the kind of simple, salty fare that feels like a culinary high-five after surviving near-hypothermia.

Chapman's Peak Drive: The Supermodel of Roads
If you ever want to feel like you’re in a car commercial while actually just driving like a slightly sunburned tourist, Chapman’s Peak is your road. Winding along sheer cliffs, with views that force you to involuntarily whisper “wow” every five minutes, this drive is an experience. I pulled over multiple times to stare wistfully at the sea like I was in a 90s music video. It’s that kind of road. You don’t rush it — you cruise it, windows down, music up, internal monologue somewhere between gratitude and “should I move here?”

Hout Bay: Mussels and Beach Feet
On the other side of Chapman’s Peak lies Hout Bay, a slightly scruffier, more down-to-earth cousin of Camps Bay, with fishing boats, markets, and a beach that feels like it has stories to tell. I made a beeline for Dunes Restaurant, where I ate a bowl of mussels so fresh they probably knew the tide schedule. Cooked in a white wine, garlic, and cream sauce that could revive the dead, the mussels were plump, perfectly steamed, and arrived with the kind of bread that surrenders itself willingly to sauce-mopping duties. Sitting on the deck, toes in the sand, drink in hand, I briefly forgot my inbox existed.

Stellenbosch: Bougie but Worth It
Of course, no trip to Cape Town is complete without a jaunt into wine country. Enter: Jordan Wine Estate in Stellenbosch, where the vineyards roll on like green velvet and the tasting room feels like a cathedral for oenophiles. I splurged on the full degustation menu with wine pairing at the estate’s restaurant, because if you’re going to spend a stupid amount of money, it might as well involve food that makes your eyes roll back in your head.

Each dish was a miniature masterpiece — delicate, seasonal, fussy in all the right ways — and each wine pairing felt like a well-rehearsed duet. The duck dish? A revelation. The dessert? Like biting into a poem. Yes, it was expensive. Yes, I’d do it again. Yes, I briefly considered proposing to the sommelier.

Final Thoughts: Go
Cape Town, for all its contrasts and complexities, is a city that knows how to seduce you slowly. It’s in the details — the old man walking his three dachshunds on the promenade, the sea spray against your face on a winding coastal drive, the quiet pleasure of shelling a mussel as the sun melts into the Atlantic.

In three days, I tasted adventure, saltwater, and Sauvignon Blanc. I walked more than I planned, spent more than I should have, and felt more alive than I expected. Whether you're here for the food, the views, the wine, or just to find out if your heart can survive a cold plunge — Cape Town delivers.

And if you go, do me a favor: order the mussels, pet the dogs, and for the love of all things warm, bring a towel.

By someone who now smells vaguely of mussels and saltwater