Sundown, Fish Hoek

I never tire of this sight as I wend my way back down Elsie's Peak, the mountain on which my house just about perches. Today was a dazzling autumn feast after a huge downpour on Friday and a rapid fall of temperature (snow forecast on the mountains at Ceres, inland from here, which means winter is definitely getting in on the act). Today my mountain hike, into a bitterly cold wind, was enlivened by falling off a rockface as I attempted to transverse it from one side to the other, inspired by having just seen the remarkable mountain survival movie Touching the Void. Couldn't they have said, "Don't try this at home"? Anyway, Slipping from a foothold, I hurtled backwards like a stunt double into a well-placed tangle of bushes, which was rather humiliating, unlike plunging into a crevasse. Refusing the attempt by a skinny jogger with a straggly moustache to drag me upright from my cradle of vegetation, I clawed back some dignity and headed home to put Dettol on my multiple scratches and nurse my wounded pride.

It was my third such fall. The first sent me sliding down a steep trail on my arse until I halted my progress by digging in a hand, breaking my thumb. The second was more painful. I fell from a ledge and landed on my backside and back a lot further down. I was very relieved that I was able to stand up after that one, because it felt like I'd been seriously injured for a few minutes. Spectacular bruising was the main damage.

I don't think I'll tackle Everest just yet.