A decade after Paul Duncan's first volume of Hidden Cape Town opened the door, this second installment continues the search for the city's overlooked interiors - spaces defined not by grandeur alone but by the shock of the unexpected hidden behind ordinary facades. Through Greg Cox's photography, the book moves from former bank headquarters and insurance buildings to churches, private homes, a brutalist customs hall and one eccentric folly, each included because its interior holds something few have ever seen. The book ranges across private and institutional worlds alike: a Camps Bay mansion once host to a mining magnate's art collection, a strongbox of ancient ceramics and colonial-era archives tucked inside a former insurance building, and grand Adderley Street banks modelled on Renaissance palaces. It ventures into Cape Town's churches to uncover stained glass, forgotten paintings and contested memorials, and into civic buildings - a suburban library, a harbour clock tower, a stately old club - whose everyday use conceals layered histories. A contemporary counterpoint arrives via a hotel suite reimagined by a rising South African designer, signalling a shift away from the city's colonial aesthetic inheritance. Throughout, the author reflects on the fragility of this built heritage: how much has survived only by chance, and how much has vanished without record. Access came through private relationships, museum curators and clergy willing to open doors rarely opened to the public. The result is less a comprehensive catalogue than an argument for attentiveness - a case that Cape Town's true character lives in these in-between spaces, on the verge of restoration, demolition or quiet reinvention. Ultimately, the book insists that 'hidden' doesn't mean lost or inaccessible but simply unnoticed. It's an invitation to look more carefully at a city that keeps revealing new layers of itself to those willing to search.