Aubergine

We spent the afternoon on the obligatory pilgrimage to Robben Island. Our guide, Ntando Mbatha, had been imprisoned there with Mandela and spoke movingly about the ghastly realities of apartheid. There was something very powerful in his bearing - eloquent and full of gravitas - he combined the disciplined anger of the freedom fighter with a very natural charm. He's only 46 so he should be there for a long while yet - but a living piece of history even so.

The trouble with fine dining is that it tends to dampen one's revolutionary zeal somewhat. Two hours after listening to Mr Mbatha, we were taking our seats in Aubergine, the best restaurant in Cape Town.

Make that the best restaurant in Africa. The amuse bouche (a parfait of butternut squash) sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. For the second time that day, we felt ourselves in the presence of greatness, albeit of a very different kind.

I've forgotten exactly what we ate, but not the mounting sense of astonishment that accompanied the succession of courses. Aubergine is one of the very best restaurants I have ever been to. It was amazing, better than Le Manoir by some considerable distance. And so cheap! £34/head including wines.

After the meal, the head chef, Harald Bresselschmidt (young, German, handsome, relaxed) wandered amongst the diners for a chat. We were fulsome in our praise and tried to book again for the following night, but sadly they were full.