Me and Cape Town, we go way back. We have a history. It’s messy. And glorious.

Lessons were learnt there that were needed. It really was the making of me.
It gave me space and time to chase my dreams and build a whole new career as an illustrator.

It was a period of huge growth, and with that came a whole lot of discomfort. I landed in the city one person, and left nearly five years later another. I know this is cliché to say, but without my stint in South Africa, I know I would not be where I am today. Or who I am. And for that I am truly grateful. The rollercoaster was worth it. At the time I wasn’t so sure, but I guess that is the wonder of hindsight, to look back with all that experience and knowledge gathered up, whilst repeating well worn lines such as the classic ‘Everything happens for a reason’  and for me, in this instance, it has never been more true.

I lived there in my mid thirties. It was a period of feeling lost. Lacking both direction and clarity, in pretty much all the key areas of life. I guess I didn’t really know myself. Socrates and his whole  “To know thyself is the beginning of wisdom.” was on to something. For me however,  it really was a case of better late than never.

There were all the classic mid thirties lessons.  The big ones for me were multiple, yes multiple, relationship fails.  Which lead to living alone for the very first time, which ultimately made me need to make a house into a home, my home. The buying of a sofa, rugs and bedlinen all without the need to consult another was both healing and expensive. But most of all it was worth it. And needed. Add into the mix the hours of hot yoga-ing (sweating out heart break, plus all that South African red wine) And therapy, Jesus, so much therapy. You get the picture, it was bumpy ride, but imperative. Gradually I started to get to know me.

There was also a practical side to resolve, on top of the more emotional side of life.  An endless waiting for a work visas.  Being on your own, unemployed and unable to work was a scary time. And yet it was thanks to this exact moment in my life, a time of real discomfort, where I started something which would changed everything.

For once I had time, the most fleeting and precious of commodities. Suddenly I had lots of it. And for the most part, some mental capacity.

It was the first opportunity in my life where I could truly invest days, weeks and months in following my dream of being an illustrator. Surprisingly, the chasing of dreams is not as romantic or as easy as it sounds.
I had no road map. No mentor. No clue.

It’s intimidating looking up at a giant, mountainous set of hopes and dreams and knowing that if you don’t start now, not only do you have no idea if or when the moment will present itself again (this is both daunting and motivating) but also – where to begin? What comes first? No idea.

So I simply started.

I was effectively faking it, I started a daily practice of working full time as an illustrator, I treated it as a  job. It was an uncomfortable journey. This period is a unavoidable chapter in the path of dream following, and it’s called ‘not being very good’  this stage must take place, it cannot be avoided or skipped over. Plus it takes time, a tenacious attitude to work through it is needed. It’s not for weak hearts and over inflated egos. There are no short cuts. There is no way around it. Just through. And that for me was Cape Town. It was a lot of trails and errors. Big mistakes and even bigger lessons. I’m not just talking about my illustrations work here.

I had moments of disillusion and deep fear. Like what was I actually doing on the tail end of Africa…? A thought that popped into my mind on more than one occasion and usually around 2 am whilst lying in bed thinking through the easier of options. I knew I could easily have slipped back into an ill-fitting version of my life back in London. I also knew this ‘solution’ would be short lived – it was wrong and would be instantly regrettable.

So it was that truth that kept me motivated and moving forward. For me that fear of the known was far more frightening than the unknown.
Repeatedly day after day, I picked the unfamiliar and kept on trucking.

Eventually, after a long time things started to shift  And very, very, very slowly things started to happen.

I created endlessly  – and over time, a whole new body of work was born. From that a portfolio was developed. This lead to the eventual signing with an agent in the USA.  Simultaneously there was the start of an inconsistent stream of commissions dripping in from (my old) UK agent. Bit by bit, momentum was built, and I stopped using my savings and started paying for my life as an illustrator through commissions. Sadly I don’t remember the exact moment of thinking “I did it”  or if that moment ever actually came..? However, I do remember thinking (and feeling) that my Cape Town chapter had come to an end. After five years a lot of ground work was covered. I innately knew I had done what I needed to do in order to go home. Only this time a I would be returning in a new capacity, and not to slip back to my old career in design.

I sold my belongings, cleared out about 85% of my wardrobe, donating most to friends, booked an overnight flight and left. I landed next morning in Heathrow. I had three heavy suitcases and a very new career. But it existed, it was growing, and I was ready to face an old city with my new outlook.

This was back in 2017. Since then I have returned the The Mother City a couple of times. The most recent was this January – it was a very last minute and I stayed with friends for ten days. It was this trip that was actually the full circle moment for me. In the past I had previously thought retuning to London was the closing of the loop. But actually it was returning nearly ten years later, that felt not only right. But needed.

Sometimes the act of boarding a plane is bigger than an adventure, it is the facing of an old version of yourself.

A city that will forever remind me of younger version of myself, and rather than feeling somewhat overwhelmed with emotion – it made me smile. If time travel was indeed a real thing, I would have taken the thirty something version of myself out for a post yoga smoothie and reassured her –

“One day you’ll look back at Cape Town with a full heart – as you owe it so very much. You’re going to live your dream. It’s going to be great. This was where you truly started.”

Cape Town will always be my second home. One I pick up from where I once started.