TRAVEL
FLY editor Suzy Brokensha does the Whale Trail
When I was about 25 I walked the Otter Trail, and I spent the entire time silently cursing the path-maker who, clearly not a fan of the good old contour line, had gone for the vertiginous up-down option instead. Of course it was astoundingly beautiful but frankly, who cared? I was in too much pain to look. Every day I woke up, pulled on my hiking boots and promised my body that I’d never, ever, subject it to anything like that again.
It turns out I am very good at keeping promises. So when friends suggested we do the Whale Trail in the De Hoop Nature Reserve, I didn’t exactly leap at the chance.
‘Of you must go,’ said my friend Helen. ‘It’s
You only have to carry a daypack – everything else is transported for you. You could honestly do it in your flip-flops.’ Helen is a superfit yoga teacher who climbs the mountain every weekend. I am not an idiot, so I spoke to my friend Liezl, who likes food, wine and every-so-often walks on flattish surfaces, just like me. ‘Hmmm,’ she said. ‘The first day is bad if you start late, with a hangover. Which we did, in 40 degree heat. And it was bad. But do it! You’ll love it.’
And I did.
The Whale Trail is a 56km walk that takes five days, with five overnight stops. The terrain ranges from mountains (some might say ‘hills’) to sea cliffs to dunes: it’s utterly gorgeous, not too difficult and a lot of fun.
The first night is spent in a hut at Potberg, where you leave your cars until the end of the hike. Here you’ll pack the single box you’ve each been allocated with all your clothes, food, drinks, sleeping bag, towel and anything else you think you’ll need. It’s a very tight fit, let me tell you – there really is no room for unnecessary stuff, so decant as much as you can into soft containers that can be squished. And Liezl was right: it is critical not to overdo the joie that first night, no matter how pleased you all are to see one another, because the first day is a bit challenging (or, as would put it, damn hard).
DAY ONE Potberg to Cupidoskraal (15km)
It isn’t the 15km that’s the issue here – it’s
the direction. Which is UP. You climb out of the valley quite quickly, and the views are absolutely beautiful. We stopped to refuel at the top of the Potberg mountain (589m high), which was magnificent for two reasons: the 360-degree views (Cape Infante to the east and Cape Agulhas to the west) and the endangered Cape vulture colony. They took my breath away: about 18 enormous, primitive, powerful birds so close you could almost feel the air being displaced by their wings. We walked along the ridge as they swooped below and soared above us; it was extraordinary.
Then we walked down to the river for lunch. And this is what I want you to know, prospective hiker: after lunch you are going to climb a mountain nearly as high as the one you climbed that morning, so don’t be lulled into a false sense of smugness while you dangle your feet in the river and eat. The afternoon walk is harder than the morning one because you don’t expect it to be that high or that far, but it is both.
Finally, after a looong day, your cottage appears in the distance. But as you walk closer you see it’s burnt to the ground – aaarrrgggh! But fear not: they’ve built another one just a little further along, and there you will take your boots off, sink your aching feet into the cool green grass and have a restorative gin.
DAY TWO Cupidoskraal to Noetsie (14km)
You may be tempted by the thought of a long, slow fry-up to start the day, but don’t linger too
long – today’s walk may not be as demanding as yesterday’s, but it will still take you between eight and 10 hours to reach Noetsie. There’s a huge shift in terrain on this walk from mountains to sea, and you’ll hike along the crest of the Potberg through strikingly diverse fynbos and proteas that can be found only here. When you manage to drag your eyes away from the vegetation, you can drink in the long view of the winding Breede River and cool Indian Ocean. We could see a storm blowing in, so we picked up the pace through the limestone hills that lead towards the coast and the recently rebuilt cottages at Noetsie (the previous ones had also burnt down). The new Noetsie cottages are clearly battling to withstand the extreme weather conditions: huge panes of glass are cracked across, doors don’t shut properly and the rafters rattle and hum in the wind: there’s a reason fishermen’s cottages are usually built with thick walls and small windows. Having said that, the site itself is hard to beat: every window overlooks exquisite Noetsie Bay. Not that we could see much – the storm blew in and we battened down the hatches and gathered around a hot, delicious meal while it raged outside, hoping it would all be over before we set out again the next morning.
DAY THREE Noetsie to Hamerkop (9km)
It wasn’t. The morning was clear and cold with no rain, but we could see it coming in again: huge black clouds banking up over a stormy sea. We set out as soon as we could to get a bit of a head start, but we still got caught in the lashing rain – which was exhilarating, oddly enough. We had the right gear so managed not to get completely soaked to the bone immediately, and there was something profoundly elemental about walking along dramatic sea cliffs in proper weather. And then there were the whales… the sun came out periodically and when it did we could see the splashes and breaches of about 20 whales that seemed to be keeping pace with us. It was fantastic. One in particular kept popping up: we recognised her because of the albino calf that swam alongside her. Maybe it’s because you never see another soul (other than your group of 12) that you feel so much a part of the whales’ world rather than that they’re part of yours… I found it really moving.
Liezl told me she swam every day, and that Stilgat Cave, which you pass on Day 3 and is famous for its crystal-clear water and vibrant sea life, was one of her best swims. Not for us, sadly: it was closed for repairs because the ladders were rusted and dangerous, but we probably wouldn’t have ventured down anyway because of the weather. So we’ll all have to take Liezl’s word for it. Despite missing out on Stilgat, Day 3 was still one of the most memorable of the hike. Soaking wet and elated, we arrived at Hamerkop, strung our boots up in front of the fire to dry and thawed out over giant glasses of gleaming red wine.
DAY FOUR Hamerkop to Vaalkrans (11km)
Most of Day 4 is spent walking along the beach, which has the advantage of being flat and the disadvantage of being soft. The rock formations are really beautiful, though, and the coastal reefs and intertidal coastal pools are absolutely heaving with birds, seaweed of every colour, crabs,
anemones and fish… you get the feeling that if you knew what you were doing (and it weren’t illegal, of course, because it’s a reserve) you’d be able to live off those pools forever. And the whales! We saw at least 10 every time we looked up – and our friend with the albino baby was there too. The day was clear and sunny but, it being early July, it was also quite nippy, so we didn’t linger too long, although I imagine if you walked this stretch in summer the swimming would be fantastic. In the afternoon we moved towards the cliffs again. Rounding a corner, we stumbled across a giant eland just standing there, utterly in his domain. He regarded us and we him for quite a while before we all remembered our places and he ambled off.
All five houses on the Whale Trail are built on extraordinary sites, but Vaalkrans is really something special. The L-shaped stone cottage is perched on cliffs that feel juuust out of reach of the clawing, pounding, rolling, roiling sea. It must be what living in a lighthouse is like. We watched the sun set crimson over the crashing waves… There just couldn’t be a better place to spend your last night.
DAY FIVE Vaalkrans to Koppie Alleen (7km)
The guidebooks describe this as an easy sixhour walk, and they’re actually right for once: it really is easy. Again, you’re walking along a coastal path overlooking exquisite pools and rock formations. We saw a huge school of dolphins and the whales were out in force, blowing companionably and barrelling alongside us in the turquoise sea. The odd thing on this final day is that you suddenly start seeing other people – day-trippers who have come to Koppie Alleen and are spending the day on the beaches. It feels strange to see other people after five days: you’ve become so much a part of the environment that it feels as if they’re intruding on your private world. The occasional sighting of a stranger gives you the time to get used to the idea that the real world is just around the corner.
The shuttle to take us back to Potberg and our car was ready and waiting at the information centre at Koppie Alleen, and suddenly we were back in our own lives again, after what had turned out to be a transformative five days.
So – did I curse the path-maker? Not once. Would I do it again? Absolutely. The Whale Trail is wild, exciting, infinitely varied and far more beautiful than I can describe. Just say yes.