The Donkey Dairy Diaries: Unfinished Business & Unapologetic Opinions

jeeksparties8
Apr 20
4 min read

So, at long last, I returned to the Donkey Dairy. Yes, the land of adorable four-legged chaos and unfinished hiking business.

My son, Salt and I had first stumbled upon it during the early days of our hiking adventures. But being crunched for time, and underestimating the trail entirely, we only made it halfway.

I was not yet the photo-hoarding, detail-devouring blogger I am today. So my first visit was just good vibes. Free-roaming animals, friendly humans, and a kind of magical farm energy.

Back then I swore I’d never return. Because...well, sand roads.

But now I do them weekly like some sort of emotionally exhausted martyr. Growth, I guess.

As fate would have it, one of my hiking buddies (a hiking leader, not just a condiment) wanted to check out the Donkey Dairy trail. Perfect. A date was set.

The road? Still garbage. No better than I remembered. But I’m committed to this part now. This is my life.

Let me preface this with the following: Every trail is subjective. I am old, unfit, intolerant, and possibly (just a little) moody...a national treasure, truly.

That’s the lens you’re getting. The upside? You can squint at my experience sideways like a confused spaniel, filter it through your emotionally stable brain, and decide whether this trail is for you.

Now, technically, this should just be a trail review. But, honestly, the vibe of the place, the people, the animals—its all part of the experience. I can't separate them.

So I am stupidly sensitive. Hanging on by a fraying thread, especially when it comes to animals in cages or behind fences. My heart doesn’t just sink. It detonates.

I am that person. The one silently crying next to a goat pen while someone’s toddler names it Sprinkles and tries to ride it.

And weirdly? I don’t remember feeling this way on my first visit. Emotional self-preservation? Probably.

To be clear: the animals are well cared for. Some roam freely like the kings and queens they are. Others are behind fences, living their best restricted lives. All of them? Ridiculously cute. It’s a sensory overload of fluff and feels.

There are baby animals available for kids to pick up and cuddle. Which, yes, is a firm crowd-pleaser. But for me? That’s a no. My soul short-circuits. I’m all for kids interacting with animals—with kindness. With boundaries. With less Build-A-Bear and more David Attenborough energy.

There are two adorable dogs with post-its stuck to them politely begging not to be fed—because they were previously being loved into obesity by well-meaning visitors. Happy to report: they’re looking leaner now. Still very cute. Still very much working the crowd.

The establishment itself? Delightful. There are clever, hilarious signs scattered all over the place—which I absolutely live for. Puns, warnings with personality, cheeky little notes that made my emotionally frazzled heart attempt to stitch itself back together.

The whole vibe is whimsical and well thought out. It’s playful, interactive, and honestly makes for a brilliant family day out.

So maybe it really is just me. The one emotionally imploding in a corner while everyone else is enjoying the animals and eating boerie rolls like it’s the best day ever.

So now...finally...the trail. Yes it's short. But don’t be fooled by that sweet little 3 km distance. It’s got bite.

It’s inclined, fairly technical, and has just enough bushwhacking to make you feel mildly badass. Not the most scenic trail in the world, but hey, they can’t all be.

By the end, I had so many blackjacks and mystery foliage clinging to my pants, I was a walking ecosystem. I probably brought home a new species.

So yes—go ahead, call me out for the emotional whiplash. For airing my grievances and still giving this place a good review. I know. I'm chaos in hiking boots.

You just need to understand: I am revoltingly sensitive. A delicate little disaster.

But if you're not? Honestly—you’ll probably have the best time.

On the way back, we drove through a nearby reserve and spotted a bunch of beautiful animals doing majestic animal things—gracefully existing.

RATINGS

AREA - Magaliesburg

COST -

R 80 entrance / R 40 hike

DIFFICULTY -

Short but spicy. Inclines, technical sections, and a healthy serving of bushwhack.

LENGTH - 3 km

MARKERS

Could be better, could be worse. Definitely doable if you’re not prone to getting dramatically lost like I am.

ABLUTIONS

SAFE FREE PARKING

AMENITIES

There’s a lot. Among other things, donkey rides. donkey milk tasting (yes, really). A cute little shop selling donkey milk products. You can buy bags of food to feed the animals., or feed yourself with a a burger, a boerie roll, or something to snack on.