The Strandloper Trail - A Throwback

A Christmas Journey Along South Africa’s Wild Coast

On Christmas morning 2016, nine of us left Cape Town in a heavily loaded van, buzzing with excitement, oblivious to the distance ahead of us.

We had signed up for four days on the Strandloper Hiking Trail, a 57-kilometre coastal hike between Kei Mouth and Gonubie in the Eastern Cape.

The plan was simple: drive up, hike, laugh, swim, and survive. Reality, as always, had other plans.

Getting There: The Infamous Christmas Drive

Cape Town to Kei Mouth looks deceptively manageable on a map. It isn’t. We left at 6 a.m., thinking we’d be at the coast in time for sundowners. Instead, we endured 15 hours on the road.

In Plettenberg Bay, we stopped for lunch. The wind klapped our van so hard that the attached trailer wobbled like a kite. Poor Chucky wrestled the steering wheel, leaving his shoulders aching for days.

We pressed on through the Garden Route, then inland past Grahamstown (Makhanda), eerily quiet during the university holidays but surprisingly litter-strewn. Somewhere outside town we took a wrong turn. There was muttering, and I was annoyed at Chucky — but then a giraffe peeked at us over a fence. Suddenly, the detour felt worth it.

Closer to East London, we had a scare with a weaving, drunk driver in front of us. By then, the light was gone, and fatigue had set in. When we finally rolled into Kei Mouth Eco Lodge, it was so late that most of us chose sleep over food. But not Papa Grizzly. He lit a fire, braaied meat, and grinned as if the day had gone exactly to plan.

Travel tip: Don’t do what we did. Break the drive into two days. Overnight in Knysna, Tsitsikamma, or Jeffreys Bay. Arriving fresh means Day One feels like the start of a holiday, not a survival exercise.

The Strandloper Trail at a Glance

The Strandloper Hiking Trail is often described as “the one trail where you can savour the feeling of solitude on an unspoilt beach and down a bar lunch in a cosy pub barely an hour later.”

Distance: 57 km over 4 days
Route: Kei Mouth to Gonubie
Trail marking: Painted white-on-green boot prints
Weather: Year-round, but Jan–May offers warm, windless days
Facilities: Braai places, water, and ablutions at overnight huts
River crossings: Quko, Kwenxura, Kwelegha, and Gonubie — all tide-dependent
Gear must-haves: Strong watertight bags, rope, and sturdy footwear (though barefoot is an option on the long beaches)
Logistics: One-way trail, shuttle required — in 2016 we left our car at Kei Mouth and hired a shuttle from Gonubie to Kei Mouth. In 2021 we left the car at the Gonubie Hotel and took a shuttle from Gonubie to Kei Mouth.

Day 1: Kei Mouth to Double Mouth (13.5 km)

We started at the Enviro Centre at Kei Mouth, where the Trail Manager gave us our permits, tide tables, and the little Strandloper badges we pinned to our packs. Boxing Day had barely begun, and already it felt like an adventure.

The first section wound through coastal forest, sandy stretches, and rocky ledges. Past Morgan Bay, the trail rose over rough grass and boulders before delivering us to the iconic Morgan Bay Cliffs, rising 57 metres above the sea. The view of wheeling seabirds and the possibility of spotting dolphins was unforgettable.

The day wasn’t long, but it was rugged enough to remind us this wasn’t just a beach stroll. By late afternoon, we reached the hikers’ cabin at Double Mouth Nature Reserve. Rustic, sturdy, and utterly perfect.

That night, Papa Grizzly manned the fire again. For us, it was the first true meal of the trip. The rhythm of hiking, cooking, and collapsing into bed had begun.

Day 2: Double Mouth to Haga Haga (9 km)

Day Two was short in distance but rich in character. We rounded the headland to the Quko Estuary, then reached Treasure Beach — also known as Bead Beach.

The sand here hides fragments of porcelain and trade beads from centuries-old shipwrecks. Nearby Black Rock is a sombre reminder of how treacherous this coastline has always been.

We pressed on to Haga Haga, a charming little village where most hikers take advantage of the hotel for a pub lunch. We didn’t. We catered our own meals, lugging stoves and food because we wanted the backpacking version of the trail.

Our neighbours at the hotel, a friendly group from the Free State, had landed a massive silverfish. Chucky, who spent plenty of time in that province for work, joined them for a long, animated chat. For the rest of us, it was a reminder of how easily hikers slip into local stories when on trail.

That night, we stayed in the Dog Boxes — two en-suite rooms made available at the Haga Haga Hotel. Far from luxurious, but clean, quirky, and memorable.

Shout out to the friendly staff and management at the Haga Haga hotel for being super hospitable and kind.

Day 3: Haga Haga to Beacon Valley (23 km)

This was the day that tested us. Twenty-three kilometres along rocky ledges, shingle beaches, and then — finally — endless sandy stretches. It was the kind of day that strips you down to basics: sun, sweat, salt, and the rhythm of your own breathing.

Shoes were abandoned early. We walked barefoot for hours, the wet sand slapping underfoot, waves licking our ankles. At one point, the heat was unbearable, so we plunged straight into the warm Indian Ocean, fully clothed. Shirts, shorts, socks — everything soaked and salty. Nobody cared.

Somewhere along that wild, sprawling beach, I sacrificed another buff to Poseidon. The sea had claimed many before, and would no doubt claim many again.

The landscape carried layers of history. We passed middens, ancient heaps of shells left by Khoi and Gonaqua people who once harvested this coastline. There was a sense of continuity: we, too, were walkers collecting salt on our skin, leaving traces behind.

By the time we staggered into the hut at Beacon Valley, we were exhausted, blistered, sunburned, and utterly exhilarated. It remains one of the most memorable hiking days of my life.

This hut will forever be remembered for the place where Pacha Mama was accosted by a cold shower. Ya hadta be there!

Day 4: Beacon Valley to Gonubie (15 km)

The final day wound along rocky coastline, past the tucked-away hamlets of Glen Muir, Queensberry Bay, and Glen Eden. Safe bathing spots tempted us, but the trail was calling.

Everyone’s focus was on the Gonubie River crossing. The river has a reputation: it’s shark-infested. We reached it at low tide, stripped down, and walked across, waist-deep in the water. We laughed, half-hoping a shark might at least show itself for dramatic effect. None did.

The story of Gonubie became legendary when we repeated the trail in July 2021.

That time, the tide was high, the current tugged ominously, and still — no sharks. But the memory wasn’t about danger. It was about Papa Grizzly’s prank. He convinced Aunty Mariam, who couldn’t swim, that she needed a flotation device to cross. She half-swam, half-paddled, terrified, until she realised halfway across that he was walking beside her, waist-deep, grinning. Her laughter when she figured it out sealed the memory forever.

From the far bank, it was a short walk into Gonubie. Sunburned, sandy, and salty, we knew we’d just finished something extraordinary.

Why the Strandloper Trail Stays With You

Looking back now, a decade later, the Strandloper Trail isn’t just a hike. It’s a memory bank of laughter, salt water, late-night braais, and long barefoot days.

It’s the story of nine hikers who left Cape Town on Christmas morning without a clue how long the drive would be, and came home with sunburn, blisters, and friendships forged a little stronger.

It’s a trail where solitude and connection live side by side: unspoilt beaches one moment, a silverfish chat with Free Staters the next. It’s where ancient Khoi shell middens remind you that you are one in a long line of humans walking this coast.

And it’s proof that sometimes the best memories come from the unexpected: a giraffe at the wrong turn, a prank at a river crossing, or a braai too late at night to eat.

Practical Tips for Future Hikers

Book early: Contact the Strandloper Ecotourism Centre at Kei Mouth.
Fitness: The trail is moderate, but Day 3 is long — train for endurance.
Gear: A watertight bag is essential for river crossings. Rope can help in high water.
Food: Cater your own if you want the full backpacking experience. If slackpacking, hotels and shops are options.
Shuttle: Organise a pickup at Gonubie or Kei Mouth — the trail is one-way.
Road trip: If you’re coming from Cape Town, don’t drive in one day. Split the journey and arrive fresh. Or fly to E London.
Timing: Jan–May offers calm, warm conditions. Winter crossings are chillier but manageable. But the Indian Ocean will give Atlantic Ocean vibes in winter!

Final Thought

The Strandloper Trail is more than a coastal hike.

It’s a story-weaver, a breaker of comfort zones, a reminder of how small you are beside the sea — and how large your memories can grow when you share four days barefoot on a wild, unspoilt coast.

For us, Christmas 2016 will always mean the Strandloper. And every December, whether I’m on trail or not, I remember those days of sand, sea, and nine weary hikers who found magic where land meets ocean.

Kleinkrantz Overnight

The best part of any trip are sometimes the bits you don’t plan.

We were determined not to drive straight back to Cape Town on the return trip.

We had booked a night at the Gonubie hotel – crisp sheets and a soft matress, but not before we explored a bit of East London – and a lovely continental breakfast in the hotel dining room, Aunty Mariam organised us accommodation in Wilderness, outside Knysna.

Day 1 of our road trip included a lunch break in Mossel Bay and a detour to avoid a fire on the N2 before we checked into our holiday house, which was a 2-minute walk from the beach. We ticked off another town on the Garden Route when we pulled into George for supper that night.

Day 2 of our road trip back found us in Caledon, having coffee and doughnuts. It was nearly sunset on New Year’s eve and nobody was ready to go home.

That’s my most enduring memory of that trip… nobody was ready to go home…

The Strandloper Trail – A Throwback