In October 2012, on the beach – two in fact – at the bottom of Witsand Dune on Robberg Peninsula, the realisation hit home. We had just embarked on 14 months of travel and it was going to be a fabulous experience. After a half-hour watching waves roll in back and front in unexpected solitude and a stiff breeze coming off the Indian Ocean, I just knew. The moment made it into the top ten memories of 14 months on the road and was still fresh in my mind, now that were back 5.5 years later.

I was worried another visit would interfere with the feelings I attached to my memories of the place. But also I was excited to go back and relive that feeling. ‘Feeling of what?’ I still wondered as we were driving towards the rocky promontory south of Plettenberg Bay.

The night before, I reread the post of our first visit but apparently struggled to put this excitement and anticipation into words as much back then as I did now:

‘Plettenberg Bay, a two-and-a-half-hour drive west of Port Elizabeth, boasts a long sweeping arch of beach, and seemed a prosperous place that on summer weekends drew tens of thousands of Cape Towners who own holiday homes in ‘Plett’. Our hostel recommended Robberg Nature Reserve, a rocky promontory 8km south of Plettenberg Bay, for a short hike.

We set off at once but by the time we arrived at the trailhead it was already late afternoon and we opted for the second longest of three circular trails, the 5.5km Witsand Circuit, skirting the northern ridge of the peninsula. The path closely traced the cliffs that fell off sharply to waves rushing unspoilt coastline. The sight of the Cape fur seals and screeching seabirds dancing on the waves below was spectacular but didn’t prepare us for the beauty of Witsand Dune.

On the map the contours of this sandy tip look much like a boot – not Italy’s classy high heel boot, but more like a clunky hiking boot – stepping into the ocean. In real life it looked nothing like a boot of course but like a dune dropping away to a sandy corridor stretching into the sea that was bathed by the ocean on either side. While one beach is pretty, two back to back was paradise and not a soul in sight.’

‘Did we pay an entrance fee last time,’ I asked Tobi as he stopped at a road barrier. A ranger exited a small shack and started towards us with a clipboard in his hand. ‘Don’t think so.’ Obviously that had changed since then because Robberg Nature Reserve is now subject to a 40 Rand entrance fee per person. The weather was also different to the warm sunset tones I connected with the place. A grey and murky sky had threatened rain for hours and turned the light sickly as the drizzle set in.

We donned rain jackets and set off clockwise as suggested on the map.

The 4.7km hike took 1.45 hours and except for the weather was just as we remembered. Also when I ran down Witsand Dune for the second time and onto the narrow sand spit lapped by the choppy sea on both sides, I was again thinking, ‘this is paradise’. The feeling I treasure in my memories however could not be relived. It simply wasn’t there. But instead of this visit replacing the first memory, a second was created, less intense but sill precious.