A light breeze drifts past, taking the edge off the summer sunshine as I sit on the station platform. It is a perfect day – enough cool breeze not to be scorching hot but still not so windy that it feels as if the world might blow away. The air is crisp-clear. The Somerset West mountains stand in perfect silhouette outline against the blue sky. A mourning dove calls, supported by a chorus of chirrups from smaller birds. The gentle buzz of traffic on the road nearby provides a sound-backdrop. Along the platform, a security guard wanders, adding his voice to the morning chorus in a rich, chocolaty bass. The train arrives.

I spend so little time on trains these days. In Korea they were a fairly ordinary, everyday thing. In South Africa they are less regular. This trip between Somerset West and Cape Town is the only train trip I really take here. I mull over the possibility of taking the train to Simonstown tomorrow. It’s a beautiful train trip, along the blue, blue sea, but only if it turns out to be a nice day. There are so many touristy things I’d like to do in Cape Town.

I feel the familiar thrill of going – the flicker of excitement to be moving again, on the go, going somewhere, doing things. ‘It’s only Cape Town,’ I hear the cynical little voice in my mind say. But that is the point: what so many people miss, and what makes me sad, is the taking things for granted in a desperate effort to avoid being anything like a tourist. Cape Town is a great place to explore. The aim should be to take the opportunity to be a tourist, to jump at the chance to find joy and excitement right here, still to be able to find the magic in a train-trip from Strand to Cape Town. This is my wonder-filled life: work that is meaningful, challenging and intellectually stimulating and the joy of motion.