Thursday 13th

One of the things that Place on the Bay provides, that I would definitely include if I ever ran an Airbnb, is a folder with lots of local information included. We had consulted it for various things such as restaurants and supermarket ideas and for our final day we had decided to follow one of their ‘day trip with a car’ suggestions.

The day started badly with our route following one of Rob’s favourite cycling climbs up to Chapman’s Peak. It meandered up to the summit feeling like a white knuckle ride with a sheer drop on one side. Although I was on the mountain side on the way up I knew I had the sea/ sheer drop side on the way home – I couldn’t wait.After the stress of our journey our first stop was at Scarborough, a lovely beach where a walk and a coffee at the hub was suggested. We enjoyed the walk and the big waves but disappointingly were unable to find the hub (usefully we found it on our way back, late afternoon, when it had closed🤔).

We then proceeded on to the main (and most disappointing) point of our day, Cape Point and the Cape of Good Hope. Throughout Africa, as you know if you’ve been following closely, we have visited lots of National Parks. All of them, without exception, have been really reasonably priced and worth every penny spent. When we arrived at Cape point and were asked for nearly £17 each to enter Table Mountain National Park we were astounded. Kruger had been less than £18 per day and we’d seen the big 5 there, what could Cape Point have that could possible rival that? The answer, nothing!

There were beautiful views and beaches and we did take a scenic walk between Cape Point and The Cape of Good Hope but neither the walk, beaches or views were any more special than many of the other views, walks or beaches we’d seen.I know Cape Point and the Cape of Good Hope are supposed to be must see tourist attractions but it’s not even the southern most point, Cape Agulhas holds that title and we’d been there for free. In my opinion it’s not even the most iconic place to visit in or around Cape Town, that has to be Table Mountain and we’d climbed that the day before, for free. We went there, we made the best of it, had a lovely time (once Rob had insisted that I let go of my annoyance with the price) but I wouldn’t recommend it.

Last thing, I really had forgotten how much it was to get in until we arrived at the Two Oceans Restaurant. I admit I was feeling quite ‘hangry’ by now as we’d never found the hub and I like regular snacks but the hanger was fading as we were shown to a window table. We were especially delighted with this as we had been told how busy the restaurant got but had neglected to book. We remained at said table for less than five minutes. The prices seemed extraordinarily inflated, it was a beautiful view but not, as it would have you believe, the meeting of two oceans (I may have already mentioned that Cape Agulhas also claims this title). We instead had a lovely take away meal from the cafe next door and gazed at the very same beautiful view of the Atlantic, and only the Atlantic, Ocean. It was actually a better table than the one in the restaurant, after all, it’s not every day you get to sit on an ordinary chair at a giant’s table. That cheered me up greatly and after finishing our meal we set off happily to see the penguins.

As soon as Alice had told me that she’d swam beside penguins at Boulders beach it was one of the things I knew I had to do. When it was included as part of our tour I was delighted and very much looking forward to this final activity. We followed the vague instructions of how to get there from our day trip itinerary and were relieved and slightly amazed when we started to see signs for penguins crossing and saw a sign for Boulders beach. As we prepared to turn right we also saw a sign ahead that said penguin viewing. In our naivety we decided to follow that into a busy car park instead.

We parked up, got out and, with the encouragement of our friendly parking assistant to, enjoy the penguins, we followed the general direction of everyone else. Our path was littered with street sellers touting every type of penguin souvenir you could ever hope for. We carefully avoided them in our haste to enjoy the most highly anticipated part of our tour. As we neared the end of the road we started to see signs indicating that a payment was expected. I was initially astounded but when I saw this was also part of Table Mountain National Park it occurred to me that maybe that was why we had paid so much earlier – it obviously included two attractions, didn’t it? Sadly not.

The extra cost of more than £8 to go and see wild penguins, that lived on a beach and, as we had been warned earlier, crossed local roads, was too much. I stomped back to the car moaning incessantly to poor Rob who was swiftly realising that his, ‘just let it go’ comments from earlier were not going to work this time. At this point I really didn’t think the day could be salvaged.

Of course it could! 😊

As I stomped and moaned and we reached the car our parking assistant, obviously not adept at reading body language, enquired as to our enjoyment of the penguin encounter. Rob vaguely nodded but I, happy to have a new audience for my complaints, explained that it was too expensive so we’d missed out on the experience. The man was our saviour! ‘Just go down there and you can see them for free’ he said. The day was saved.As I lay on the beach watching their (infrequent) antics and waded and swam as close as I could to the rocks, I realised how very lucky we are and although there have been a few annoyances along our journey we are having the most amazing time. We travelled back to Camps Bay tired and happy and even the return journey over Chapman’s peak with me on the sheer drop side barely disturbed our contentment.

Our stroll to the Cod Father for an amazing fish dinner (I’d have liked to have said fish supper as it sounds better but Rob may have, on the spot, divorced me so I’ll stick to dinner) followed by an excellent performance of The Mousetrap at Theatre on the Bay rounded off another perfect day.

Friday 14th

After an early breakfast, a short swim in the pool and a goodbye stroll along the beautiful beach we packed up the car and left Camps Bay. Although we felt sad, especially as it was our last destination before leaving this amazing continent, we’re pretty sure we’ll be back. Xx

Tuesday 11th

After an early morning power walk (Rob had given up his bike but was refusing to run) we did our second day of touristy business on the hop on hop off bus. Our main plan was to see a few more of the sights before being taken on a wine tour. As you can imagine I was very excited as most of you are aware of my love of any alcohol, especially wine🤨.

There were some great views of the whole coastline, including Camps bay from the top of the busThe beautiful coast road runs right the way to Cape Town and in no time at all we were at our first stop, a boat trip of the harbour, a freeby that comes courtesy of the hop on hop off bus tour. I can’t resist anything free and this didn’t disappoint. We had a wry informative running commentary throughout but were also thoroughly entertained by the seals who seemed to have a little synchronised swimming class organised.We were also delighted to see their favourite sleeping place, nobody noticed this until they were pointed out to us but we could then see that they occupied nearly every tyre and there were hundreds!The trip was only half an hour but was very enjoyable and we even had a welcoming committee back at shore.We then had another little visit to the food market before we saw the perfect Christmas tree for Maria.It’s totally made of empty champagne bottles – we think with nearly a week to go, if you put your mind to it Ri, you could have one just like it by Christmas or at least enjoy trying. 🥴

After hopping back on the bus we had plenty more beautiful scenery, mostly of table mountain and its surroundings, before we arrived to Groot Constantia, the oldest wine producing farm in South Africa. I really tried to like it for Rob – I’d been on wine tours before and enjoyed them but I was struggling. The tour of the original Manor House was lovely, the grounds and vineyards were stunningbut the wine was horrid – Rob tried to drink mine too but although he put up a good show he started to feel slightly tipsy and had to retire from the tasting a little early. As a final treat we were looking forward to the cellar tour – previously we’d been on one of these that showed the wine making from grape to bottle which had been really interesting – not this one. The only good thing about the tour was the coolness of the cellars, otherwise it was awful. We unbelievably managed to meet an even less intelligible tour guide than the Robben Island one and couldn’t stay the distance. After seven minutes of the thirty minute tour we escaped giggling like naughty schoolchildren. We were so happy to hop back on the bus and complete the route back to our beautiful Camps Bay.

Wednesday 12th

Today was the day – we had checked the weather carefully and had decided, due to a strong wind forecast on the Thursday, that today was the day to climb Table Mountain. Throughout the week we had been discussing which route we should take that would involve a challenge but would also allow us to catch the cable car down and return to our car. After looking at several sites we’d decided on the Kasteelspoort route. We’d decided that Platteklip Gorge, the most popular route, might be too busy and was probably too easy. So, ignoring all advice to take a guide, or at least a map, we set off in thick fog, armed only with instructions from a sketchy blog, to reach the top.

It started well in that we found the recommended parking spot. After that it all went a little awry and about forty five minutes in, firstly steeply climbing then going around the mountain we were informed by a fellow English climber that we were on the contour route which would lead us on to the Platteklip Gorge.

For about ten seconds I tried to persuade Rob that we should retrace our steps and find our preferred route. Rob then explained simply, how far we’d come, how long it would take to go back and how we might never find Kasteelpoort anyway. With this injection of logic I followed him meekly.

Despite the fog the views throughout the contour route were spectacular and its route around the mountain ensured that we got to see so much more. Eventually we reached the Platteklip Gorge and apart from one little detour (still seeking more adventure I thought we might go to visit Devil’s Peak on our way to the top, luckily about ten minutes in we met a walking group who explained that up and down this would add an extra three hours to our hike, we quickly about turned) directions were then straightforward, basically up!

For whatever reason I thought that the Platteklip Gorge route might be too easy my opinion was swiftly changed. Thankfully we were also wrong about it being too busy. On our whole ascent we only met two other climbers. One, a lovely Scottish man called Stewart who remained our companion for the rest of our adventure and secondly, a bare chested youth who practically sprinted passed us about three quarters of our way up.

Stewart was a God send – no longer did I have to try to keep up with Rob or pretend I was admiring the view/taking photos. every time I stalled on a slightly steep ascent to catch my breath. Instead, whether necessary for him or not, Stewart paused also and Rob, although a few metres ahead consequently felt obliged to wait as well. Having someone new to talk to also helped pass the time and mask some of the most excruciating steepness. Content in our new company, we wended our way to reach the summit.The views at the top were definitely not what we’d hoped for but there was a definite sense of achievement and this plus the reward of a (very sweet) hot chocolate for Stewart and I and coffee and cakes for Rob helped us to recover our equanimity.

We nursed our drinks, chatting amicably and silently hoping for the fog to lift, for as long as we could before jointly acknowledging that it wasn’t going to happen. After wandering around the top for a little while admiring more hyrax and the amazing flowers that manage to survive up therewe decided it was time to catch the lift down.

Within one second of commencing our descent the fog cleared to display perfectly clear views of Lions head and the sea below.It was over much too soon and before we knew it we were back in the car, saying goodbye to Stewart and returning to Camps Bay.

Purely by chance (so Rob says) our visit to Cape Town happily coincided with the Cape Town rugby sevens. Very surprisingly and very luckily, when Rob happened to discover this coincidence, when we were back in Stilbaai, there were still two tickets available. We booked them forthwith and planned our day.

Sunday 9th

Rob set off early again for his second morning on his bike. and I managed a quick run, sticking firmly to recognised paths.

By 10.30 we were back, breakfasted, showered and on our way to the Cape Town stadium. Rob spent a lot of time telling me about how impressive the building was but I had much more fun watching the thousands of people who had turned up in totally random variations of fancy dress.

The stadium was relatively quiet as we watched a few of the plate games but as the first of the quarter finals of the cup competition approached, South Africa versus Scotland, every seat filled and the stadium erupted with noise and energy. This also meant that Rob had to move across the other side of the walkway from me. When we thought our tickets were too good to be true it turned out they were. Although they were numerically ordered 11 and 12. They weren’t actually next to each other but we didn’t allow this to mar our day and soon made friends.😊

The Springboks victory over Scotland ensured that spirits remained high and even though England lost to USA whom, in my ignorance, I thought they’d have no problem beating, the overall atmosphere meant we couldn’t feel despondent. It was a really great day and I should never have underestimated the USA as they were brilliant against New Zealand, scoring my favourite try of the tournament and even putting up a good fight against the mighty Fijians who were amazing from the start. South Africa managed third place with England finishing fifth – I’m hooked, roll on the London sevens in May!

Monday 10th

Rob’s last morning with his bike. 😢 Although it wasn’t quite as high spec as he was used to or what he would have chosen, he’d definitely grown quite attached to it. I wish I’d taken a picture of his cycling shoes, they definitely weren’t from this decade, possibly not even this century!

After I’d had another run and we’d both got ready for the day we hopped on the tour bus to go and be tourists. We arrived at the V&A waterfront (which we wrongly thought was the Victoria and Albert but was actually Alfred after her son) and had a wander before our 3pm departure for Robben Island. I bought a few little decorations for the villa in Koh Samui where we are staying over Christmasbefore, quite by accident, we discovered the food market. Obviously Rob and I both love food so this was heaven. 😊After perusing every available stall I even found I had a choice of available gluten free options – so good. We both chose warm frittatas and freshly made smoothies and enjoyed them in the sunshine.

Although we were both eager to do the Robben Island tour it was a little disappointing. There was quite a lot of waiting around for the ferry, the journey was about 35 minutes and fairly dull. I had hoped it might have been more informative in creating a backdrop for the tour but although there was a video playing the sound wasn’t working in our section of the ferry.

On arrival to the island we were herded straight on to coaches of about forty per coach and given a tour guide. Although I sometimes have some difficulty understanding different accents, with concentration I have been fine, particularly on the different tours we have been on. This tour guides accent was indecipherable, not just for Rob and I but for many others too. Consequently people began to chat a little amongst themselves making comprehension even more impossible. Half way through the guide and the driver swopped and we hoped for greater clarity, unfortunately this was not to be! This part of the tour allowed for no exploration – the only time we were given to explore was at the shop, the highlights being a cold drink and seeing penguins.

We were so relieved when the coach tour was over and we were taken to the very best twenty minutes of our day. This part was delivered by a lovely man who was an ex political prisoner on The Island. His stay overlapped with Mandela’s but he only served seven years of a twenty year sentence – he was only 17 at the time. His first hand descriptions of Prison conditions was very clear, concise and humbling. He didn’t try to dramatise anything, he didn’t need to as the cells and communal areas have been preserved as they were. Above is Mandela’s cell

Our hosts most striking words were about how he has found forgiveness and acceptance. He now lives on the island, working as a tour guide. He suffered dreadful conditions and unnecessary abuse at the hands of the prison guards but does seem at peace with the perpetrators who ‘were doing their job’ and with his surroundings.The ferry journey back, although the same, seemed quicker. We had lots to think about! We were also delighted by an added bonus of seals waiting for us at our destination. Although there were parts of the three hour tour that could definitely have been improved, the twenty minutes of first hand narrative was exceptional and totally made the experience worth while.

We have had the loveliest and busiest week in and around Cape Town.

After accepting advice from two of our gorgeous nieces, we had, as usual, impulse booked a little apartment right on the beach. It was very reasonably priced and although we’d been a little concerned about its position above a lively cafe/restaurant we needn’t have been. It was perfect with a view of the mountains from the back of our balconyand a glimpse of the sea, just a stones throw away from the front.It also included use of the facilities of The Place on the Bay Hotel next door. I can’t recommend the whole place highly enough, the apartment was beautifully clean and serviced daily and its location was exceptional. We couldn’t have asked for more.

Chloe’s and Alice’s advice regarding staying in Camps Bay was spot on. It was near enough to Cape Town to visit all of the main attractions (and walk the 10km home one evening in flip flops) but far enough away to get away from the big city. It was also very beautiful. I think we managed to do nearly all of the things that you’d recommended Al and more, here goes.

Friday 7th – not the best of starts but Rob did manage to get his bike and cycling gear sorted and I did appreciate the comfortable bed whilst recovering from my tummy bug.

Saturday 8th – Rob left very early, about 6.15, to meet up with the Cape Town cycling club he had been in contact with. (I’m hoping he’ll write a little about his cycling mornings but can’t guarantee it as his fragile ‘writing confidence’ has been knocked – I’ll mention no names).

I eventually left the comfort of my bed, familiarised myself with our little but lovely apartment and set out to explore Camps Bay. I had been determined to run every morning after the success of our run in Stilbaai but, in my weakened state, decided to settle for a fast walk instead.

The walk was beautiful. Camps Bay beach had been transformed into an under 18 touch rugby tournament at one end and had numerous other sporting events taking place along its length. The atmosphere was lively and energetic and injected a little spring into my weary step. I went a couple of kilometres to my left before the houses ran out and then came back the same way. I usually hate coming back on myself but there were so many beautiful beaches and views that for once I didn’t mind.

With time still to spare before Rob’s expected return I then set off the other way. After passing Glen beach, followed by the four spectacular Clifton beaches I decided to cut down on to the shore to see if I could return that way. It all was going fine, the four Clifton beaches were all linked either by a paddle through the sea or a clamber over rocks. The problem came between Clifton’s fourth beach and Glen beach. There was no obvious access so I sensibly returned up towards the road. Time was ticking on, I’d been out walking for an hour and a half by now and knew Rob would soon be back. The obvious thing to do would have been to get back on the roadside path and return the way I had come. I was pretty tired and feeling quite weak but my sense of adventure was still there so I took a different path.

An hour later, after unnecessarily risking life and limb, I finally limped back to find a slightly worried Rob waiting at the gate. He’d returned to the apartment to find all my belongings including my phone, purse etc. still there but me gone. Luckily he hadn’t been waiting long and I saved him the finer details of my return journey and vowed to stick to the path in future. My regular walking partners back home can probably imagine parts of my adventure, it did involve climbing fences, crossing water and negotiating large rocks but the short chase this time was not by cows – I’ll save further details for one of our strolls when I return. 😬😬

The weather was warm but a little overcast so we decided to have a gentle afternoon at the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens. Plants and flowers aren’t usually my favourite thing but being set against the most amazing backdrop of table mountain definitely increased their attraction. There were several different areas of attraction including a weddingSomeone who wore their socks as high as Rob’sas well as an art exhibition, beautiful sculpturesand more Fynbos and Protea than you could ever wish for. Rob and I are now total experts!The lunch at the cafe was extremely tasty with lots of gluten free options. We had a really lovely afternoon and could have stayed much longer had we had time or energy to climb any more steep hills.

The absolute highlight of our visit came as we were wending our way reluctantly towards the exit. We had previously explored the canopy walkway, a cleverly positioned boardwalk through the tops of the trees. As we’d travelled along it we had read various information boards about the birds we could expect to see and as we are swiftly becoming twitchers as well as botanists we had spotted quite a few. Despite looking carefully and much to our disappointment, we had not spotted any of the nocturnal birds listed that could apparently be found sleeping in the lower branches. As we headed along a final pathway I pointed out a tree that seemed to be hugging another tree. Rob showed his usual amount of enthusiasm until I stepped in closer and looked up. There, sitting amongst the lower branches, was a sleepy eagle owl.We watched it for a little while as it continued to sleep, as I walked under it to try and get a better photo angle it turned and fixed me with its eagle stare seemingly disturbed by my unwelcome intrusion. It turned away at the sound of approaching children and unwilling to blow its cover we left it to return to its slumber.

It was such a lovely afternoon and a dinner at our downstairs cafe plus a beautiful sunset completed a practically perfect first full day.

Before I go there are four important birthdays we’ve missed this week.James turned 48 last Saturday,

Mabel’ The Chipmunk’ turned 12 on Thursdayand James and Trish celebrate their birthdays today

Lots of love to them on their special days. Xxx

Our reluctance to leave Stilbaai had nothing to do with our next stop but everything to do with the beauty and tranquility of our stay at Anchorage on the estuary. As we headed for Aghulas, the southernmost point of the whole of Africa we knew that Maashare, our next accommodation, had a lot to live up to.

We had a short stop on our way at a lovely little coffee shop full of a variety of friendly garden birds.The little one above, still learning to fly and unaware of Rob’s need for personal space was given short shrift when it landed on the back of his neck. Rob hurriedly brushed it away avoiding a perfect photo opportunity in his haste to be rid of the unwanted imposter.🤣

Just before we reached our destination we had another unexpected encounter with wildlife. Driving along the penultimate, residential road I saw something move to the left of my passenger wheel. I urged Rob to stop and reverse convinced, for some reason, that I’d seen a tarantula and questioning him as to whether South Africa had ‘wild’ tarantulas. I doubted myself as we neared the spot, rightfully so, my tarantula had turned into a tiny tortoise.An easy mistake to make.🤣

First impressions when we arrived at Masshare were not entirely favourable. At every place we had stayed in on our travels check in time had been 2pm. If we’d occasionally arrived a little early (you all know that’s fairly unusual) this had always been easily accommodated. As we arrived at Maashare at 1.30pm the front of the house looked disheveled and a large gentleman rushed out to our car to tell us that check in was at 3pm and we’d have to come back. In a slight reversal of roles I didn’t take this very well and Rob had to smooth over my disgruntled comments hurriedly reversing to cover my ire.

We made the best of the situation and as we drove back down to the coast I soon recovered my equanimity. The time flew as we explored the rocks, discovered the southernmost point, climbed the lighthouse and visited its museumand absorbed yet more beauty. Rob was also happy to finally stand on the top of Kilimanjaro and see the whole of Africa spread out before him.When we eventually, though a little reluctantly, returned to Maashare we were very happy to realise that you should never trust first impressions. The previously disheveled front was attractive, ordered and welcoming. Johann came out to meet us and showed us around another small but beautifully arranged apartment. The decor was perfect and just what I would have chosen for a seaside haven. Even the lack of power for two and a half hours (I don’t think I’ve mentioned this but every day throughout much of SA the power is turned off for a set time) didn’t concern us, we just had time to check WhatsApp for any urgent messages before the power and with it WiFi, disappeared.

Throughout the day, most unusually, we hadn’t eaten very much. Rob had mentioned that his tummy had been a little unsettled for a day or so and mine was definitely not quite right. In my wisdom I decided it was hunger and so after spending an hour or so settling in, sorting washing (so excited to have a washing machine #underwear crisis) for when the power returned and showering, we ventured out to eat. Johann is a coeliac and so was able to recommend an excellent restaurant 55 knots in Struissbaai set back from but still overlooking the sea. The food was delicious and despite my grumbling stomach I managed to finish nearly all of my pork belly on leek and potato mash. My contentment was short lived and even as we returned to the car the rumbling had turned to griping pain, I don’t think it was hunger!

Without including too much detail, in between three loads of washing and trying to concentrate on a great (Rob didn’t agree) Christmas movie, I spent a lot of time over or on the loo. The whole night passed in pretty much the same way and by the time morning came I felt weak and drained. I may have mentioned how Rob isn’t the most sympathetic or willing nurse. I also accept that I may not be the most tolerant or willing patient. Despite my weakness it is often easier to do things myself than ask Rob and answer a hundred questions as to how I want it done. Between us, in tense silence, we packed up (including 3 loads of wet washing – it had rained all night) and left.

The relative silence continued for much of the way as I intermittently slept and Rob drove. My glimpses of the journey were of the usual towns, townships and beautiful scenery but much of it was a blur. I was just thankful that my stomach had settled and our two toilet stops were purely for Rob’s ‘Sturla’ bladder and I had no need to leave the car.

I was so relieved to arrive in Camp’s Bay. I took little notice of our surroundings as Rob dumped all of our belongings inside the door and rushed off to collect a bike. I dazedly hung wet washing haphazardly around our apartment and balcony before falling into bed and welcome oblivion.

Oh my goodness! As I lie in bed, knowing that we have to get up, pack up and leave our forest den, the whole of my lower body is saying NO! My rib, remembering it’s recent damage, has joined the protest and as I go to roll over, is urging me to stay put, in a fixed position, indefinitely.

Rob is still breathing steadily beside me so I know I have a few minutes yet. I lie still, apart from my feet, which are alternately practising plantar flexion and dorsiflexion, testing the pain of my knotted calf muscles like worrying a painful tooth. I eventually come to the conclusion that I might be able to walk and roll out of bed to test my theory.

After the first few stumbling steps, movement becomes easier and by the time sleeping beauty awakes, complaining slightly of his inner quads, I’m able to breezily say, ‘I don’t feel too bad’.

After enjoying our final, ‘Full English’ and saying goodbye to the very lovely but slightly damp feeling Andelomi Lodge, we set off for Stilbaai. We were back to another couple of one nighters before we reached our final South African destination of Camp’s Bay, Cape Town. Our accommodation in Stilbaai was to be a self catering apartment on the estuary, so we stopped, en route, to pick up provisions for our stay.

On arrival at Anchorage apartments, Rob and I both realised that this was easily another place we could have stayed at much longer than our limited one night. The apartment was small but beautifully clean and cleverly arranged to include everything we might need. Its setting on the lake was peaceful and picturesqueand the hosts (and their welcoming dogs) were absolutely lovely, nothing was too much trouble.We spent a very relaxing afternoon and evening swimming in the pool, walking by the river and on the beach and cooking our second meal of our travelsThe following morning we reluctantly departed for Aghulas.

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 youngAs we reached the bridge over the beautiful river mouthI 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 stepsand 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.😊

Time is passing much too quickly, we only have just over a week left on this beautiful continent and although we’re reluctant to leave we’re also very excited about Asia and seeing our ‘babies’ for Christmas. The weather may be a little different this year than last.

After leaving East London we travelled for about an hour and a half through more beautiful and varied countryside to a little town on an estuary called Port Alfred. We stopped here for a quick and tasty lunch at My Pond hotel and a walk on the riverside before continuing our journey.We arrived near Port Elizabeth at about 5pm to Le Bleu guesthouse and our first decorated accommodation since arriving in South Africa.The tree wasn’t quite what we would have chosen but it was exciting to have some acknowledgement of the festive season’s rapid approach.

Our last couple of days of travelling had caused Rob and I to be more sedentary than usual. Without going in to too much detail this always has a slightly negative effect on Rob’s digestive system. After listening to his woes concerning this (I’m a captive audience in the car) I made a plan to help relieve his problem (and me having to hear about it). The plan was simple, plenty of fluids, chocolate raisins (always work for me) and a run in the morning before the next leg of our journey.

I am pleased to say that my plan worked perfectly. By 8am the next morning Rob had experienced success and was enjoying Jon-Pierre’s best breakfast. We had managed a lovely run along the estuary and having done no real, sustained, aerobic activity since my broken rib I was very proud of having run for 31 minutes without stopping.

We left our guesthouse with Rob feeling much lighter and thankfully, with a new topic of conversation.

Our next stop was to be Andelomi Lodge in Tsitsikamma. We had booked two nights here as the one nighters were starting to become exhausting and we wanted a full day to explore the national park. To break up our journey we decided to have a stop and walk at St. Francis Bay and Cape St. Francis.

St. Francis Bay was a beautiful sandy beach but it was the cape with its big rocks and massive waves that totally captivated us. We ended up spending much too long exploring the many rock pools and watching the waves before returning to the car and our onward journey.

Despite the length of the journey (about 6 and a half hours) more beautiful scenery, lots of people, towns, townships and livestock to look at, made it pass relatively quickly. There were a few scarey moments, Rob is definitely not enamoured with all South African drivers and particularly their speed and where they choose to overtake but we eventually arrived in East London safely. The journey was also helped by the introduction of Christmas songs. We had agreed (me a little reluctantly) that they shouldn’t be played until after Rob’s birthday and in fact that we should wait until the 1st December. The big day had arrived and helped us through the long drive.

We arrived at about 3.30pm to Pollocks bed and breakfast. Dave Pollock, the proprietor, showed us to our lovely room and was extremely helpful in giving us ideas of where to go both immediately, to stretch our legs and for dinner later. We were disappointed that we couldn’t walk straight from our B and B but Dave explained that there was an awful lot of unrest within the town at the moment. Some local people were on strike which was causing many issues with rubbish collection and, ‘The devil making work for idle hands.’

We took his advice and reluctantly got back in the car to drive the 5km to his recommended beach. As we drove the short distance we were very aware of the rubbish strewn everywhere. Two weeks of no collection plus the added factor of deliberate destruction of black sacks meant in some places the litter was knee deep. We also passed the car park for the local beach we had been warned against and were glad we had heeded Dave’s advice. Some of the local people had set it up as the place to hang out. It was extremely busy and even more rubbish strewn than the surrounding area. The many signs for no alcohol were almost ironic as people leaned against them or sat beneath them with cans and bottles lifted to their lips.

As we drove on to Hanoon we left most of the litter behind us, we parked at the first opportunity, eager to get out of the car and grabbed towels and water. As it wasn’t totally clear where we needed to go, Rob asked a lovely lad getting out of the car next to us. After a quick conversation establishing that we weren’t from around here and a complicated handshake (well followed Rob) he enthusiastically welcomed us to the area and pointed us in the right direction explaining that we could drive closer. We chose to stay where we were, welcoming the longer walk and set off in the indicated direction with an extra spring in our step from his generous welcome.

Our walk took us along the estuary and led us onto Hanoon beach was which was lovely and quiet with just a few families dotted along the golden expanse enjoying the late afternoon sunshine. The tide was a little way out but the waves were big and strong. After walking the full extent of the cove and really needing to expend further energy we dumped our towels, removed our outer clothing (swimming attire already in place) and joined the few diehards in the water.

It didn’t take us long to realise why so few people remained in the sea. The waves were crazy, each one fought to knock you over before endeavouring to twist and turn you then finally sending a strong undertow to drag you away from shore. We resisted each attempt as best we could. I was less successful than Rob and succumbed to their power a couple of times, losing all sense of direction and my dignity on occasion as my bikini became a little displaced. Most of our excess energy was effectively expended so we left the sea, grabbed our towels and headed for the rock pools.

We spent a happy half hour searching for marine life and chatting to three generations of a local family. The grandfather was visiting and delighting in helping his grandchildren catch shrimp and spot sea anemones. The little girl, Isla, handed me a slippery, squidgy lump of something. I put my hand out willingly enough but, to her bemusement withdrew it in haste. She reliably informed me that it was a sea mushroom, I’d never heard of a sea mushroom, should I have? Do we have them in England? My education continues.

We left the rock pools as Rob had spotted a cliff walk that was beckoning him. We got so far ….before realising that time was running away from us, it was nearly 6pm and our dinner reservation was for 7. We hurried back forgetting how far away we had parked. By the time we reached the car any remaining excess energy had definitely disappeared.

After a quick shower and another quick drive (only 1km but apparently not safe, particularly after dark) we arrived at Dave’s recommended restaurant, Sanook. It was an excellent recommendation. They understood my coeliac needs well and replaced my burger bun with avocado – perfect!They also had some great banana desserts, Rob went for a rum soaked version while I went for a traditional banana split.

Our time in East London was short and despite the local unrest, very sweet. After another couple of hours on the beach in the morning (wearing a better fitting bikini) we dropped our beach towels back to Dave and set off for Port Elizabeth and the start of the Garden route.

Our last breakfast in Durban confirmed a generalised theory that I had been developing since arriving in South Africa. African women appear to love their curves!

Looking around the crowded dining room of The Blue Waters hotel, there were beautiful, large women everywhere. As you all know, I haven’t been my preferred size 10 since I was about ten and from the recent photos I’ve included, you can see, despite plans to the contrary, nothing has changed. Here in this dining room however and in the shopping centres and on the beaches I have felt positively skinny – perhaps I’ll stay here forever, apart from that I don’t feel happier or more attractive because of my comparative slenderness, instead I feel genuine envy.

All around me women are embracing their curves, celebrating them with bright colours and flamboyant patterns, emphasising them with figure hugging lycra and fitted body con dresses. Sashaying confidently and laughing loudly as they help themselves to the self serve, buffet breakfast and greet each other across the busy room – and this is only breakfast time!!

Rob left breakfast quite promptly whereas I lingered. I felt like I was part of an unplanned celebration, everyone seemed to know each other and although there were tables like mine, of observers rather than participants, there was no feeling of exclusion and so much people watching to do – Ellie, I needed you!

There were also babies to talk to and what I miss most, apart from Joe and Elles of course, are babies! At school and at home I’m often surrounded by little people and although there are lots here, many of the little ones cry at my less familiar white face, I haven’t had a baby cuddle since Uganda.😩 As usual I digress.

Back to Kokstad, we left Durban for our three hour journey. We’d talked about many different routes to reach the start of the Garden route at Port Elizabeth but finally decided on the quickest. This involved staying on main roads (you’d be proud Ges), along the coast for about half the time then cutting inland to stay at Kokstad before returning to the coast at East London.

It was another stunning journey, I can’t emphasise enough how amazing the scenery is. We saw endless coastline, rolling hills, steep sided river valleys, towering forests and rugged mountains. We also saw endless amounts of people, walking, trading, lying in the sun and avoided countless animals, cows, sheep, goats and even a small pig – they just stroll nonchalantly in to the road, often followed by their herder. We’re not talking country roads here, this was the N2 all the way, that is Africa’s version of the M4. I am really loving this road trip although, if I could compress all of the beauty into just half an hour, then I would definitely choose this option.

I’ve already explained how we have just been booking each place to stay a couple of nights in advance. At first we would both gaze at our phones for ages, making varied suggestions and discussing their relative merits before Rob would make the decision. We have now honed the process down to a fine art where we add a few crucial filters such as parking, no smoking, WiFi and (recently as we’ve already spent too much) under £50 a night. We have been absolutely delighted with the results, The Old Orchard at Kokstad was particularly delightful.We stayed in our own little, one of about ten, log cabins set around a lake at the foot of mountains. We had our usual walk before playing a little golf – at Rob’s requestand having dinner in their lakeside restaurant – they had gluten free pizza as the proprietors wife was a coeliac – so refreshing to not have to explain.😊

The highlight of our stay was lying in our beds, facing the lake and watching an hour of the best thunderstorm that was caught in the valley. I did video it but as the video doesn’t do it any justice I won’t include it.We really thought about staying a little longer in our lovely, wooden hideaway but had booked our next night in East London so set off early for one of our longest drives so far.😩