Text: Fiona McIntosh. Pictures: Shaen Adey. Article from the December 2013 issue of Country Life Magazine.
Make no mistake, the five-day Port St Johns to Coffee Bay Hiking Trail is tough but it’s one of the finest coastal walks in the world
There are no marked trails, rather you follow cattle paths – up and down, up and down over rolling hills
You want crayfish for dinner?” asked Jimmy as we peered at the crustaceans in the rock pools. “I’ll make a plan.” Nothing is too much trouble for Jimmy Selani, our charismatic guide, and it’s easy to see why, since being awarded South African Tourism’s Best Emerging Guide of the Year 2004, his Wild Coast Hikes guiding business has found wings.
This five-day hike was my fifth slackpacking trail along the Wild Coast, having previously hiked the famous Wild Coast Meander (twice, it was so good), Wild Coast Amble and Hole in the Wall Hiking Trail, all of which were led by local guides, but on which we stayed in fabulous coastal hotels. This time I’d stepped out of my box a bit and opted for a community-run hike overnighting in villages.
It’s the wildness that draws me back to the Transkei coast but the people really do make the place special – the gaggles of colourfully dressed women harvesting from the rocks; the curious kids tending goats or cattle. So I hoped for a cultural experience – a chance to learn more about Pondoland and its people. It was an inspired decision. Jimmy regaled us with stories by day, and at night we were put up by our community hosts in a clean rondavel, fed local fare and invited to join in spontaneous festivities.
The 66km trail starts at the Silaka Nature Reserve at the end of Second Beach, Port St Johns, a sleepy, relaxed seaside town that has not quite emerged from the era of long-hair, no-shoes flower power. From the trailhead we climbed through coastal forest to a vantage point to survey the rounded promontories and sandy bays back towards town, before heading down to the pristine sands of Third Beach.
We stomped up again, grateful that we’d chosen the slackpacking option, to a viewpoint overlooking the wave-battered promontory of Sugar Loaf, then began the descent to the Umngazi River Bungalows. Surprisingly, given our sweaty appearance, we were welcomed into the larney looking resort and enjoyed a cold drink at the bar while waiting for the ferry across the wide river.
The pattern was pretty much set by now and another stiff climb around a headland, followed by a punishing descent, and we were finally walking on the flat beach to Mngazana and another ferry crossing. The river, with its great sweeping bends, mudflats and vegetated banks is typical of the area but, as usual, Jimmy had the knowledge – in most other estuaries along the coast there is only one species of mangrove, but three occur here.
Our first night’s accommodation was in the village of Madakeni where, after a welcome shower, we sat outside listening to the sounds of the crashing sea. Cheeky kids poked out their heads from the kitchen, while women with babies strapped to their backs smiled as they cooked chicken, samp and beans, and tried to teach us a few words of Xhosa. Life is simple here, and tough, but looking at our happy, smiling hostess we felt the genuine welcome of these generous people. The grace, humility and sense of fun we associate with Nelson Mandela is evident throughout his homeland.
Day two was a tough haul. We left the coast behind and trudged up steeper hills, the exertion of climbing as much as the views taking our breath away. Jimmy pointed out the enormous variation in the vegetation: the scrubby, dry, north-facing slopes contrasting with the lush, greener southern slopes and the verdant clusters of forest along the streams and rivers. Krantz aloes clung to the rocky cliffs and colourful ground orchids, daisies and everlastings bloomed in the tough grasses.
A few more hills and we were back at the coast, strolling along Sinangwana Beach. The kraals at Tsweleni village, home for our second night, were visible from a long way off and, after the toils of the day, it was indeed a welcome sight.
Once we’d settled in we paid a visit to the local backpackers’ lodge and tourists’ drinking hole, The Kraal – a mini-fortress with commanding views over the crashing ocean. The welcoming bar, decorated with washed-out and washed-up driftwood, flotsam and shells, had the feel of a surfers’ haunt, full of travellers who had caught Pondo Fever and were reluctant to move on.
We arrived early at the Mpande River on day three. River crossings are always entertaining; this one was shallow so we took off our shoes and waded out, the cold, tannin-stained water a tonic for tired feet. As we followed the sleigh paths, we paused to watch impromptu soccer games on sloping fields with rickety goalposts, passed the burnt-out skeletons of cars and boats, and experienced one of the classical Wild Coast sights – cattle strolling along the beach, as if taking an evening walk on the promenade. A youth with his face painted in sacred white clay gazed out from an isolated hut. “Abakwetha, in the final stages of the traditional coming-of-age initiation ceremony,” explained Jimmy.
The highlight of the day was Hluleka Nature Reserve with its wonderful stretch of coastal forest alive with birds, zebra and buck. We stopped for a final swim in the picturesque bay before heading inland to Hluleka village, where we celebrated breaking the back of the trail with a visit to a shebeen. Creamy millet beer, both bottled and locally made, was offered, and we sat long into the night until the empty crates became too uncomfortable to sit on any longer.
Just beyond Hluleka lies the remains of the wreck of the Forresbank, a British freighter that caught fire and ran aground in 1958, a striking reminder of the dangers of this coastline. She’s slightly off the trail (and the fourth is the longest day at 19km) but, if you’re feeling fit, worth the detour. Not much of her remains – the proximity to the shore has resulted in large-scale scavenging, but the sight of the stem and broken wreckage in the spray and on the wave-cut platform is haunting.
We stopped again to inspect crater-like features on the ground – Jimmy advised us they were once grain silos – until finally we hit the wide Mtakatye estuary. Fish Eagles soared majestically overhead, lifting our spirits and putting new fire into our tired legs. Jimmy had an even better remedy for fatigue, “I can organise massages. Very reasonable price.”
The varied scenery on the short last day to Coffee Bay was a fitting finale to this magnificent hike. We traversed dramatic cliffs, ambled down a long, empty beach and survived an exciting final ferry crossing in a rather shaky craft skippered by a lad. Then, feeling strong, we bade Jimmy farewell and continued beyond Coffee Bay to one of the country’s most dramatic coastal landforms, the Hole in the Wall.
That morning some horsemen had slowed to ask where we were going and how we were enjoying their beautiful land. They expressed their wish that we have the trek of our lives and take back happy memories of our stay.
We certainly did. Luxury it is not, but this is a trail you’ll never forget.
| More info on the town of Port St Johns | More info on the town of Wild Coast |
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