De Wildt: The Peglarae Trail (Kinda) and "Glamping"

The Peglarae Trail

After what can only be described as a slow, brutal death on Saturday (but like… metaphorical… we lived), we were given options for Sunday morning.

One of those options was a hike.

When our leader, Shireen, said, “It’s a 5 km hike,” I knew immediately:

I’m in.

Because 5 km is code for “you’ll be home by lunchtime and won’t need to negotiate leave on Monday.”

The plan was the Peglarae Trail, but our host Bertie - super invested in his trails - suggested we do it in 4 km by taking a detour to the waterfall.

I’ve done this trail before (see previous post), and yes - she has inclines.

She has technical sections, which in hiking terms means “this is why it’s taking 3–4 hours despite being only 5 km.”

But this shorter version? Exactly what we needed.

Heart rate up.

Legs operational.

Ego intact.

A rare and beautiful trifecta.

Back in my car by around 10 am like a responsible adult who hikes, overshares online and still has 3,000 photos and several blogs to wrestle into existence before Monday morning kicks the door in.

Ideal.

The Accomodation

We were told we’d be staying in en-suite “glamping” tents at the lodge.

Tents sleeping four people.

Bar fridge.

Communal kitchen.

Naturally, my expectations were… rustic at best.

Possibly feral.

Also - communal tent.

If you don’t know about my communal issues yet… welcome.

There is an aggressive amount of scrolling my feed ahead of you.

Plan accordingly.

But it appears I may have adapted - like a feral house cat.

Kinda.

I ended up sharing with two absolutely gangsta women, and thanks to last-minute cancellations, we were only three in the tent - aka the maximum number I can tolerate without filing a complaint.

.

Suddenly, I was thriving.

Single, COMFORTABLE bed (no need to terrorise anyone with my aggressive Netflixing).

Electricity. (For Netflix. We’ve established this.)

Kitchen. (In our tent AND communal, because apparently I now vacation like a person with standards.)

Bathroom.

My burner phone. (Yes. Still Netflix.)

And a pillow that had no business being that good.

I briefly considered smuggling it home - then remembered I lack both stealth and the personality type required to survive prison.

Hands down one of the most comfortable sleeps I’ve ever had outdoors.

But indoors - in a tent - with plumbing, electricity, a kitchen, and a bed that felt suspiciously like home.

So yes. Glamping.

Fine.

I get it now.

There was also a quaint little chapel, a plunge pool and a braai area.

And of course… what would a hiking weekend be without the resident dogs?

Unacceptable.

Frankly rude.

Although they didn’t actually hike with us, these two beauties made sure to send us off and welcome us back - like two four-legged trail-adjacent cheerleaders.

Huge thanks to Shireen and Darren from BHC for a magical weekend of hiking and… more hiking.

Brutally legendary.