We arrived to our next National Park, (Is it just me or is Africa full of National Parks?) and our little hut in the trees at Storm’s River on a fairly dull and dreary afternoon. 
We spent a little time settling in and trying to get some fresh air into our latest dwelling before heading out to explore the tiny town and find some dinner. I donned my raincoat and, observing the sky, advised Rob to too. He dismissed my sound and repeated advice as unnecessary and set off uncovered.
Storm’s River has one main street that has a grocery, liquor and hardware store all under one roof, a police station, some tour operators offering different and exciting ways of seeing Tsitsikamma, lots of places to stay and a few places to eat. This Main Street is surrounded by about 8 residential streets offering more places to stay. You can walk around the whole town in roughly half an hour!
After our exploratory half hour, a light drizzle had started to fall, Rob was complaining of getting wet (??) so we headed for the recommended Village Inn. The Hunters Lodge offered bar meals and when we walked into an empty pub and different things on the menu stated Gluten free (only the second menu we’d seen in Africa that did) I was delighted at the thought of not having to explain. I didn’t have to explain but as soon as I asked for one of the gluten free options the abrupt barman stated that they weren’t doing any gluten free that evening. We pointed out that it was clearly on the menu but after checking with the kitchen he confirmed and directed us to the other on site eatery, De Oude Martha Restaurant, saying that they might be able to help.
We walked the 25 metres to the indicated alternative and found it totally deserted. As reception was just opposite we enquired there and were told it didn’t open until 7pm. It was now 6.45, on saying we’d wait, the receptionist explained that The Hunters Lodge was open and served exactly the same menu, provided by the same chef!!! We did point out that the (rude) barman had sent us, she was obviously perturbed by this but we had no will to pursue our pointless cause when feeling increasingly ‘hangry’ so moved on.
The drizzle had developed into light but very wet rain. Rob tried not to complain or draw attention to his exposed state of dress as I may have taken some pleasure in saying, ‘I told you so’ more than once as he rushed (and I sauntered) to find food and shelter. We hurriedly considered the various options on the complimentary map and guide we’d been given at our lodge and chose The Rafters restaurant at Armagh Lodge and spa. Despite Rob’s belief that I’d chosen it purely for its furthest distance from our present location it had (maybe a) little to do with this but much more to do with their offer of a welcoming log fire.
Within a few minutes we were ensconced by said fire (with Rob gently steaming😂) and happily ordering drinks and food.😊
The next morning we were up early and raring to go. I was very happy and quite surprised to be experiencing few adverse side effects from our previous mornings jog. This was especially gratifying as, ignoring all other exciting options, we’d decided to explore Tsitsikamma purely on foot.
After driving the 6km to the park entrance, paying the nominal fee and receiving a basic map we parked up and studied our options. We decided to start with The mouth trail which led to the mouth of the river and across a picturesque suspension bridge. It was only about 2km and seemed like a nice gentle way to start our day.
Whilst visiting the shop for water I met my first rock hyrax, I’d never heard of them (apart from in Dr. Seuss) 
but apparently they’re quite common and we did see a few more throughout our day.
I digress as usual.
The route was lovely, lots of gorgeous views,
deserted beaches,
and some more hyrax with their young
As we reached the bridge 
over the beautiful river mouth
I almost wished the trail wasn’t over.
Don’t they say be careful what you wish for? – I should have been…..
As we stood on the other side of the bridge we saw a small sign saying ‘lookout’, we moved to investigate thinking it was just pointing to some rocks jutting out and affording a good view of the bridges. On further investigation we saw it pointed upwards. Without much (or any) discussion Rob was off and I had little choice but to follow.
The views on the way up were amazing and although I had no one to admire them with, (my ‘mountain goat’ had soon taken off) I stopped often to take pictures (and gasp for sufficient air).
The going was extremely tough with some steps
and lots of rocky scrambling. When I thought we must be nearly there and heard Rob distantly asking a descending couple how much further, I closed my ears to there about half way answer.
I eventually reached Rob at the top to find him chatting to a couple from Cheltenham who were both retired teachers. When I had recovered my breath enough to join the conversation and vaguely recognise the lady’s face we realised that, as she had been a PE teacher at the Cotswold School, our paths had definitely crossed.
When we’d finished remarking on the small world we lived in I remembered to notice the view. It was stunning!
My photo doesn’t do it justice but it was truly beautiful from every angle and probably, though I can’t say it to Rob, worth the climb.
The descent, although quicker, was equally as harrowing as the ascent and by the time I’d reached the bottom my recovering rib and ninety year old knees (not quite but you know what I mean) were ready for a well earned rest. As we crossed the suspension bridges and neared our starting point I imagined an afternoon maybe lying on the sand or sat in the shade of the restaurant. Rob had different ideas.🤔
Sitting outside the small shop drinking sugary drinks and replacing energy with fruit and a new discovery – Cadbury’s top deck, we discussed our plans. I agreed with Rob that we should make the most of our one day here but enjoying the beach or a leisurely lunch weren’t what he meant. ‘We’ll just see what it’s like’, he said. ‘If it’s as difficult as the last trail we’ll just come back’ we agreed.🤔
The chocolate and fizzy drink had revived us sufficiently so after about a twenty minute break we drove to the parking for the waterfall trail. As we set off across a fairly even caravan site and then onto a gently climbing forest trail, 
following bright yellow paw prints as we went, we reassured ourselves that this was easy, why were we worried? Why indeed?
By the time we’d realised that we should worry, it seemed too late to turn back.
I honestly don’t think I have ever been on quite such a wearing or treacherous path. We probably should have read the signs and available information, maybe shouldn’t have attempted it when we were already tired but we did. It was beautiful but exhausting. 
Despite the paw prints and arrows the path wasn’t always obvious. It took us over more rocks than you can imagine, up steep inclines, down sharp descents and at one point we had to navigate the sea – or at least a little part of it. We’d unfortunately missed the sign which explained about this at the beginning of the route but usefully(?) saw it on our return.
By the time we reached the waterfall, which was beautiful,
we were both ready to call the second helicopter of our trip to rescue us from exhaustion and treachery.
The way back was made a little more straightforward by slightly clearer paw prints and arrows at the more ambiguous crossroads. In all we had only walked about 16km but it was the steepness and toughness of the terrain and the constant heat that had exhausted us. I can’t tell you how happy we were to reach our car and head back for a shower and a pre dinner nap.
Slightly revived and definitely hungry we headed out for a cool down stroll to Marilyn’s for dinner. We’d dismissed this restaurant the previous night as it only provided outdoor seating. This evening couldn’t be more different than the previous one so we settled happily at a table and perused our menus. As well as the weather being a direct contrast to our previous night’s experience so was the helpfulness and loveliness of the staff (compared to Hunter’s Lodge).
Marilyn’s is a 60’s Diner with lots and lots of character.
The music was fun and uplifting and both our waitress and the proprietor had a ‘can do’ attitude saying they could adjust practically anything on the menu to my gluten free needs. We had a lovely evening eating good food, enjoying guessing the artists of the 60’s songs (Rob won hands down😩) and watching life on the Main Street.
There aren’t many places I know where you can watch cows pass as you enjoy dinner and I think the world is a poorer place because of it.😊
Rob & Emma's Trip 