Just a 15-minute slow drive from Cape Town and you're into a lush green valley, a horse's clip-clop away from the mansions of Constantia and Bishop's Court.
You won't find the name of this sought-after colonial haven on your map where Pam Golding sold her first house for R4 000.
The local residents affectionately refer to it as The Village. It's a mere slip of a place where some may bray: "Oh you mean Wynberg?"
"No," reprimands a local, sipping his third Guinness in the dark, woody comfort of Café Verde, "this is Chelsea Village."
It's where the local church clock sits happily at half-past four, weekdays and weekends. It's a heavenly place full of flowers and courtyards, farm-style glamour, barnyard beauty, thatched Victorian villas, gossipy antique dealers and Egyptian geese.
Up the road a woman herbalist and fortune teller from North Africa takes care of your inner ghosts, bad luck, bad debt, headaches, stress etc.
Summer means Shakespeare at Maynardville Open-air Theatre; winter a scrumptious high tea at Alison's restaurant or savouring the lava-hot talent of Chelsea chefs at Lupo's Restaurant.
Buy your morning newspaper from Mrs Parbhoo, who wears a spice-coloured sarie, her shop chockful of ice-creams and magazines.
In this village you'll find double-decker chocolate cakes slowly baking in gas ovens, and cats with names such as Tin-Tin and Chelsea lazing under rose bushes.
Every Saturday morning the elderly Mrs Hat sells homemade orange and ginger marmalade under the shade of a Cape Oak.
Picture gargoyles, Cape vernacular architecture with a swirl of Georgian and Victorian detail, latticed dormer windows and sash and the smell of thatch. Immaculate cottages with small handkerchief English gardens.
Homes with twee names such as Old Pear Tree Cottage, Laundry Cottage, Drew Cottage, Oak Cottage, India House, Little Marlow.
Or royal names such as Victoria Cottage, Albert Cottage, Lord Nelson Cottage.
Homes so sought after estate agents knock loudly and insistently on your fine panelled French doors, pleading: "If you ever think of selling, I can get you a jolly good price."
For nearly two years I lived in Unicorn House in Chelsea Village, a beautiful ramshackle farmhouse dating back to 1809 and owned by a portrait painter in Hout Bay.
It was in this quiet, classy country village that I first encountered the voice of the confident rich. "Daddy and I have been looking at your property. We like it. We want to make an offer. How much?"
"Terribly sorry but it's just not for sale." Undaunted, they did persist: "We are leaving for Italy tonight and we would like to make an offer. How much would it take to change your mind?"
Chelsea Village is home to former beauty queen and jewellery designer Sandy McCormack who lives in an 18th century thatched house with a steep English staircase and French chandeliers.
Most memorably it was home to Malcolm James McNee Tait, the soft-hearted half of the Kronendaal Koeksisters.
He once said: Everyone knows what goes on in The Village. When the candles are snuffed just before dawn, everyone is enjoying nookies with everyone else. But no one really knows...
- This article was originally published on page 2 of The Cape Times on May 24, 2005