The cool Cape Peninsula air, fragrant with the aroma of wet earth and fynbos, invites us to inhale deeply as we admire the jigsaw-style glass house nearby.
It is made entirely out of windows, some found and others gifted by friends. Inside, chandeliers of dried indigenous flowers and mollusc shells sway gently from the ceiling and a disco ball spins slowly over a large table laden with fresh flowers, jewel-toned glassware and thick ribbons of kelp.
We haven't been here for long, yet already we feel immersed in the softness, the slowness, of this place.
“My husband, Tom, built the glass house; he built that table, he built the kitchen cabinets. He's a landscaper but his passion is carpentry. The glass house is a love project of ours,” says Roushanna Gray of the space where she hosts her workshops, where she merges food and ecology as a powerful tool for learning.
It all started 14 years ago when she packed up her life in Muizenberg and made the move to Cape Point, where she had the opportunity to slow down and become curious about her surroundings. “Love drew me here. I fell in love with my husband and then I fell in love with the land. Tom has lived here all his life and my mother-in-law, Gael, is an amazing fynbos horticulturist, so she's been my plant mentor. I've learned a lot from her.”
Most of Roushanna's ecological education has been by osmosis, an insatiable curiosity and extensive reading, enquiring, smelling, tasting. “When I was starting out, there wasn't a course you could take, so there was a lot of self-study, especially about seaweeds – there wasn't as much information about them back then.
“I have always been a huge bookworm. Growing up, I spent hours in the library, I read everything. Food was also a big part of my childhood. Both my grandmothers were caterers and
