There’s a coffee cart a few blocks over from where I’m staying here in Stellenbosch. It’s only open until 9. Some mornings, instead of plugging the kettle in, I dress and walk the 0.9km for the best cortado in town.

The path there meanders through the woods, along a playful stream that frolics towards town. The birds and squirrels are already busy with their important morning chores as I pass through their neighbourhood. They scurry about overhead and in the underbrush. I walk past the jasmine and pause to savour the fragrance. I walk by the giant cluster pine and run my hand along its bark with reverence as I pass. The bed of tall agapanthus wave hello, the purple blooms so filled with joy for every passerby. I walk by the protea tree where there are still a few blooms high up. When I look up this morning, they are still vibrant. I hear the doves cooing somewhere but can’t see them.

By the time I reach the coffee cart, its already busy. Quentin the barista says hello with his bright smile and turns to grind the beans for my cortado. There’s something delightful about the barista knowing your order. Is it the familiarity that’s so comforting? Maybe more so when you’re just a short term visitor in a place.

I walk back through the neighbourhood so I can walk past the frangipani tree. Is it a frangipani? I don’t need to know it’s name to marvel at it. I’ve never seen flowers so exquisite but I say that a lot here in South Africa. I pause to take in the splendour of it and sip my coffee.

It’s the loveliest way to start my day.