The Old Door

This is the door to a house of mystery in Cape Town. It stands opposite my younger brother's place, part of an upmarket, up-priced area (his flat bought for R300,000 a year ago is now worth over a million...). It stands out as a bit of an eyesore in a street filled with newly-renovated homes. The meagre front yard is a tangle of old dead bushes hiding long-neglected garden furniture. The windows are shaded by frosted glass and darkness.

There's a story behind this building. It's part of an estate for which the government has absolutely no paperwork. The owner passed on to better things without leaving any hint of what was to happen to this house - no will, no relatives, nothing. So it sits and crumbles. According to government regulations it may need to do so for 60 years before the state can assume ownership. If it's still standing, that is.

Oh, it's number 13 in the street - perhaps that has something to do with the state it's in?

We couldn't resist. We looked through the letterbox to see what was inside. The passage was stacked high with piles of stuff. The kinds of stuff my sis-in-law and I would love to scratch through... Ancient furnishings, delicately moth-eaten curtains, hard-wood floors bending slightly with age. Topped off with an authentic bead curtain - not the replica type found these days in your local homeware shop.

It's the kind of place that really gets my curiosity going. What happened here? What stories does this place have to tell? I wish I knew...