What the heck is a Baviaanskloof? A place for baboons, by its original Dutch meaning. The Baviaans south-west of Addo Park are rugged red-rock mountains, with seriously steep mountain passes. The entry road was reasonable but I’d seen the signs for “4×4 only” and yes, 4×4 low came in handy, uphill and downhill. Parts of the track were so intense I had to look away (Jim was driving) (haha) but I was on the outside looking down, whew! What rugged country this is. Our final Baviaan campsite was deserted, there was no one there to even take our money. You might think that a little nerve-racking, not having another soul around; it is almost wild camping, only with amenities. What the heck, we are camping in Africa, it is all crazy and exciting.

Dropping out of the Baviaans and hoping for some warmer weather, the Wild Coast of the Eastern Cape jumped up in front of us. Crashing waves, rocky coastlines, whales, dolphins, surfers, birds, rivers, estuaries, hillsides covered with brightly painted houses. This part of South Africa doesn’t often see the safari-goers, no Big Five here. Here it is surfers and fishermen, beach combers and older Afrikaans caravan campers. It is a mix of people unlike any we have camped with. Chatting with folks on the beach revealed a slice of Eastern Cape life; one gentleman evoked Paul Simon’s song “Homeland”, referencing the nearby town of Ladysmith. This is rural South Africa and it has been the homeland to so many, including Nelson Mandela.

Jeffry’s Bay is a smart little town, boasting the “world’s best right-hand break”. This isn’t surfing season; too bad, I’d have liked to watch some cold water surfers. On up to Storms River Mouth, a place I’d heard so much about but never pictured us there – I don’t know why not, it is a stunning beach and the camping is ideal. Reaching Natures Valley, we turned around east without a clear destination but with a desire to hug the wild coast a little longer. That’s when we found Mdumbi.

Mdumbi Backpackers Lodge is worth the two-hour drive on a busy, rough dirt road. The local community and the Lodge have an obviously wholesome, beneficial relationship – camping there made you feel like you are really making a (small) difference. Staff was delighted to show us around the hilly compound – there is a communal kitchen and eating area plus a health-based restaurant; a sunny common room out of the wind, and completing the vignette, a couple of dogs and cats. The rocky shore supported endless tide pools. The shells weren’t bountiful but it is all about the hunt, right? Just an excuse to walk the beach. Again.

Serious surfers went out, some returning to say “well, it was surfing, but the waves sucked”. The days passed. One day it was so cold and windy, the sun room was worshiped by all. We finally had to roust ourselves and head on down the road, away from the sea. It is likely that we have seen the last of the sea at Mdumbi, and if this is to be our final memory of the Indian Ocean, it is a superb memory.