I finally made it up Table Mountain! I'd made it into the infamous cable cars, although they look a lot different to when Dad stood in them!

I set off at 9.20 in my Rikki, thinking I'd be there in plenty of time, but alas I was one of many joining the queue on a perfect blue sky day. I didn't forget the poignancy of the date as I read over my ticket to the top; I'm not too sure how eight years passed by so quickly, but we mustn't dwell.

I tried to wing my way to a discounted ticket by using my 'young person's identity card', but the officials were having none of it. I had to pay the same as all the other plebs alongside me!

There were a fair few well-placed clouds up there to amaze me and use up over 100 photos, as well as a well-placed Brummie who I asked to take my photo.

After walking around the top and perching on a few treacherous edges I treated myself to a hot chocolate at the Table Top Cafe, I certainly needed it as the September wind whipped its way through the shade of the coffee shop.

When finally down on solid ground I found my only available mode of transport was the shared taxi, so off I went with a few Africans and tourists to the back of my hostel. The driver said he'd worked on the mountain for 26 years, it almost made me feel bad for only giving him R20. Almost.