Oh, the boys... the men! It's our own fault for staying in a surfer's hostel and for the past month I've watched nothing but perfectly tanned chiseled bodies walking up and down the halls. It's a good thing my husband is not a jealous man, and it does help that one of these bronzed hunky bods belongs to him. And I... well I have no problem mentioning once or twice a week that I also am his.
Cape Town is a kite surfing heaven. Nobody here goes to the beach to take a swim - never mind where you'll be entering the water, if the waves don't crush you down a surfboard will. Wind surfers hate kite surfers and vice-versa, so when our kite surfing bunk buddies asked me to take some action shots of them on the beach, I tried to keep winders out of the frame, but with little luck.