Susan Soal and her partner Etienne de Kock sip cappuccinos at the Olive Station, one of Muizenberg’s trendier restaurants. The view over False Bay is interrupted only by the odd train passing metres in front of the restaurant’s bar counter.
Soal, ”an NGO-type”, and De Kock, a sculptor, agree ”it’s a lekker place to live”. There are the coffee shops. ”And where else in Cape Town can you find the sea, the mountain and vlei in walking distance?” Soal and De Kock value the ”sense of community”, good public transport to and from town, and a cosmopolitan vibe. But they also like the area because it’s ”faintly edgy”.
When Soal and De Kock moved to Muizenberg three years ago, it was inching out of precipitous decline. ”Our buddies were saying, ‘Are you sure you want to move there? It’s a basket case.’”
Crack-cocaine, heroin and mandrax were readily available. Crime was rife and the graffito tags, used by gangs to mark their turf, marred every surface.
Congolese refugees also benefited from falling property values, renting rooms in run-down flats. They were exploited by local landlords, who were in turn being squeezed by drug lords.
Then an old-time Muizenberg resident was murdered, mobilising the community. An unlikely partnership of property owners, Congolese refugees and the pioneer gentrifiers decided to turn the neighbourhood around. They formed a residents’ committee to lobby the council, which launched a vigorous campaign to enforce the by-laws and set up a Muizenberg Improvement District, the second in the city of Cape Town.
Citizens set up a crime-fighting initiative, the ”mountain men”, who use binoculars to watch from the mountains and alert police on walkie-talkies if they see something suspicious.
Says Soal: ”One old woman drives around with paint in her car, painting over the gangsters’ tags … Now the gangs don’t bother.”
Then the council invested millions in beachfront improvements, building change-rooms, ablution facilities, paving roads and providing parking. Private investment followed. And when a United States movie company decided to use the renovated beachfront as a film backdrop, residents felt the neighbourhood was back on the map. ”It was still very ‘Wild West’, but the renaissance had started,” says De Kock.
It didn’t take long for the cappuccino bars, bistros and restaurants to follow. ”Look around,” says De Kock, ”people are painting their houses. Everything’s spick and span.”
Soon property prices started rising — Soal estimates their Muizenberg house has doubled in value since they bought it. The South African Property Owners Association confirms ”the healthy demand for houses is a sign that efforts to clean up Muizenberg are starting to pay off”.
Soal and De Kock now fear gentrification will run rampant, and that the edginess, cosmopolitan atmosphere and sense of community will be destroyed. They worry Muizenberg will become like Kalk Bay, with antique shops, bistros, galleries and high-end boutiques pitched at foreigners.
Says De Kock: ”When the lawn-mower shop went, that was Kalk Bay’s turning point. It’s that mix —lawn-mower shops and cappuccino bars — that you long for.”
Mike Haddad, one of the owners of the Olive Station, also appreciates Muizenberg’s mixture. He can recite all the chic restaurants in the order in which they opened: ”The Empire CafÃ