Having panted up 611 rugged metres to the top of Potberg Peak, it was the view that really took my breath away.
On the horizon to the west was the misty blue Langeberg. Way below lay a patchwork of pastures dominated by the snaking curves of the Breede River. Ahead, more peaks, and in the distance sand dunes and the sea.
A rocky path meandered on and on, skirting hillsides, dodging the largest boulders, at times disappearing downwards in startling fashion. All around were wild flowers, evidence of the richness and diversity of fynbos.
It was Day One of the five-day Whale Trail: a group of friends and I had been looking forward to this for months. We had driven down to the Cape, done last-minute food shopping in Bredasdorp, and spent the previous night at Potberg Cottage in the northern reaches of De Hoop Nature Reserve. Now here we were, with unspoiled beauty laid out before us.
High above, a Cape Vulture demonstrated its huge wingspan, a lone member of the only remaining breeding colony in the Western Cape. Striking rock formations - one sculpted like a giant chameleon - and bright orange Watsonias caught our attention as we walked on, glad of a small breeze that alleviated the heat of the day.
The terrain, uneven and steep, meant we had made only about two kilometres an hour - surprising, since we were all quite fit. So it was a delight to come across the Melkhout River, where we swam in clear, chilly water. Afterwards we watched tadpoles, crabs and dragonflies while eating lunchtime sandwiches.
Weary after a strenuous 15km, the sight of Cupidoskraal Cottage, our next stop, was most welcome. Baboons barked on our approach, angry at having their territory invaded: one dismantled an outside light, just to make a point.
After a shower, supper and a drink round the fire, we slept well.
The next day we covered the same distance, marvelling at the abundance of wild flowers at every turn, despite traces of a large and recent fire: fynbos is so robust that it thrives on fire and nutrient-poor soil.
It was hot and shade-free, but we each carried about two litres of water in our day packs, boosting our energy with frequent snacks and rest breaks.
Every couple of kilometres we spotted the white footprint in stone that marked our route and gradually the jagged, stony path led towards the coast and became interspersed with sand.
After seven hours we came to our next cottage, Noetsie, right on the beach, and backed by dramatic koppies. From a distance it had a somewhat military bearing, but materialised into a charming kapstylhuisie, its thatched roof reaching almost to the ground.
Reading comments in the visitors' book, we learned that a mouse was a regular guest in the kitchen, and sure enough he turned up later, as did a nosy baboon.
A beach boma decorated with driftwood proved a great spot for photography as an extravagant sunset tipped each wave with gold.
Day Three: Noetsie to Hamerkop, 7.8km. That's what our map told us, but it seemed much longer, perhaps because of some arduous cliff-top climbing. The day was clear and the rugged coastline at its finest: boldly blue sea and sky offset by vivid orange lichen-covered rocks.
Each new vista revealed places where the relentless power of the ocean had carved channels and caverns, churning and foaming its way through solid rock.
A slight detour to Stilgat meant braving a series of wooden ladders and rocks down to a beach, enough to require hiking boots or sandals, but worth it to swim in translucent tidal pools, where little fish darted and nibbled toes.
Further on, a colony of cormorants sat in untidy nests balanced improbably on perpendicular cliffs and we thrilled at the sight of seagulls flying below us.
Hamerkop Cottage is beautifully situated, half sheltered by sand dunes, but with a clear view of the sea. From its upstairs balcony we toasted our progress so far, as another glorious sunset marked the end of a very good day.
Our last full day began with dolphins - masses of them - heading south and surfing joyfully. The pristine sand was soft, which we found heavy going.
But passing Lekkerwater, F W de Klerk's presidential hideaway, just up the beach from Hamerkop cheered us: the house is now rented out for R3 450 a night. Our accommodation cost less than R200 a person a night.
Sand gave way to a trail along the cliffs, from where we looked down on latticed platforms of rock where waves broke before spreading white lacy coverlets of foam.
Oystercatchers (the rarest endemic coastal bird in Africa) posed and blue-headed lizards and klipspringers played hide and seek, while the receding tide exposed aquamarine rock pools.
The last cottage, Valkraans, is positioned on a cove where the sea surges in and erupts in a great burst of spray. Each spurt elicited gasps of admiration from its audience, like a fireworks display.
We ventured to the edge of a headland to watch jets of water spew up through a blow-hole. This phenomenon occurs where powerful ocean swells force water through an underwater cave and up and out through a narrow hole in the rock.
On our last morning the weather had cooled, the sea was serene, the colours - which had been so bright - were all monotone and pastel. Even the dolphins swam lazily.
Easy sand and cliff-top walking was interrupted by a dip at delightful Hippo Pools - so-called because of a hippo-shaped rock.
On the way we came across several Middens, the debris from ancient seafood feasts, and paused to wonder how many generations of humans had enjoyed this coastline over the centuries.
Finally a wooden boardwalk led us through impossibly white dunes and to the whale-watching centre at Koppie Alleen, where the school bus was waiting to return us to our cars at Potberg. Our 55km walk was over, and with huge reluctance we had to re-enter the 21st century - but our memories are fresh as yesterday.
Hitting the trail
Current cost is R990 a person, porterage an extra R300. Bookings taken for either 6 or 12 people.
No electricity or refrigeration, but there are gas stoves, firewood, bunk beds with comfortable mattresses, hot water, flushing toilets and solar-powered lighting.
Whale season is from May to December, but it's a great walk even without whale viewing.
For information, visit the website www.capenature.org.za; for bookings e-mail [email protected] or call 021-659-3500