The View from Lion’s Head
The first time I tried to climb Lion’s head was also my first time in Cape Town, in 2016. Hard to fathom it’s been almost 10 years. Here is a confession: My fear of heights got the best of me in that occasion. I should say: My fear of heights combined with my fear of clumsy tourists. In general, heights make me lose confidence in my own feet, but they make me lose more confidence in the feet of random people. Especially when they are climbing up ahead of me so recklessly and so prone to tumbling down, that my inner risk manager can only think of the possibility of them dragging me to a free-fall all the way to the base. So 2016 was not the year I summitted, I bailed out at some point that felt like being 90% up there.
I got another chance in 2024. This time, luck was on my side: it was not a peak day for tourists, so my companion and I had much of the mountain to ourselves. There was still very little between me and the drop, but at least the fear had been simplified. I had only my own vertigo to contend with, not the imagined choreography of strangers stumbling above me and dragging me with their body mass to a gruesome demise.
I lost my companion at around the same point that defeated me in 2016. His excuse was slippery shoes. So I went on alone, taking what I think was the easier route (there are two routes up apparently) and following a group of teenagers who seemed entirely unbothered by the climb. There is a particular quiet that comes in these moments. The city was still below me, the path ahead felt very trying, and the sensible part of my brain was still making its case. But at some point, the only way out is up.
At the top, I understood why people make the climb. The reward was more than bragging rights: I arrived right around sunset, when Cape Town seemed to turn red in every direction. It was one of the most beautiful views of my life: A 360 degrees view of the Cape, including the city and the Twelve Apostles, all in tones of red. The kids ahead of me belonged to one of those gospel-prone Christian denominations, and soon I was standing almost alone with the sunset, surrounded by songs. I have always thought that if there is a God, he would reside somewhere in music. These pictures do not do the sunset or the moment any justice but they are enough to make the point. A sunset from the top of Lion’s Head is worth the climb. You should try it.
A bonus track: The muted sounds of the Capetonian night from the top of the mountain. Despite the safety warnings (don’t stay there after dark) it was impossible not to sit on a rock on the way down for a few minutes just to imbibe the silence and the chirping of the crickets. There is something special about that abyssal stillness in contrast with the distant hum of the city.
