Wakkerstroom: Another Charming Small Town

Hi yes, it’s me again - back with another dramatic declaration of love for small towns, which honestly feels like a personality flaw at this point.

By now, I should probably be issued a warning label - "may become insufferable after exposure to fresh air, mountain views, and towns with populations under 2,000."

But unfortunately for all of us, I fear I have become a full-time small-town junkie.

Why Hiking Weekends Are My Luxury Travel

Here’s a life hack nobody talks about enough - some people will tell you luxury is a rooftop infinity pool in Dubai or a €19 croissant in Paris.

But for me luxury is no traffic lights, no urgency, where sheep actively participate in traffic management and strangers greet you like they’ve been expecting you all week.

And occasionally, hiking weekends come with accommodation so beautiful that you spend most of the stay whispering things like, “I am not worthy.”

Recently, I’ve had two of those weekends.

This was one of them.

Wakkerstroom

There are certain small-town names that just attach themselves to my subconscious for absolutely no logical reason - and very often, people have never even heard of them.

Names like Clarens, Tsitsikamma, Dullstroom, Kaapsehoop and Magoebaskloof to name a few.

Nobody specifically told me about them. I didn’t do research. I didn’t watch TikToks.

Their names simply floated into my consciousness years ago and refused to leave.

And now I’ve visited four of them, and somehow every single one has exceeded the imaginary version I’d already built in my head.

Wakkerstroom had been uttered by a hiking bud and a Facebook follower recently in very close proximity - it resonated - coincidence? I think not.

So when Ronelle from Forellenhof Guest Farm offered to host me for the weekend to try the Induku Trail, who was I to say no?

It didn’t disappoint.

Why I Refuse to Research Places Before Visiting

I don’t want curated expectations.

I want confusion.

I want surprise

I want to arrive knowing absolutely nothing and accidentally discover the personality of a place in real time.

That’s the magic.

And somehow, Wakkerstroom turned out to be exactly what my brain had imagined all along.

Tiny, charming, weird, warm and wholesome - the full small-town starter pack.

Small-Town Energy

Before we even entered the old “Bioscope” building - which no longer shows movies and now functions as a sort of community everything - a man saw a camera and instantly posed like he’d been training for this moment his whole life.

No suspicion.

No irritation.

Just pure small-town enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, in Johannesburg, making eye contact with strangers is considered an extreme sport.

Inside the old "bioscope-turned-community-everything" centre we were greeted by someone who clearly believes deeply in the town.

She was more than happy to tell us all about her little town.

The Sheep

In Wakkerstroom - livestock are not merely livestock - the sheep have jobs.

They function as free-range stop streets, yield signs, speed control and occasional emotional support

And nobody questions it.

Cars simply pause while woolly little traffic officers wander across the road with complete authority.

The Pothole

Now, coming from Johannesburg, this next part was deeply confusing.

We saw a pothole being repaired.

Actively repaired.

By humans.

In daylight.

At first, we didn’t fully comprehend what we were witnessing because naturally our brains assumed it must be some kind of performance art installation.

But no - it was road maintenance.

The Biltong

I bought some of the best biltong I’ve had in a while from "Ommie Hoek" that felt like it could pivot into a butchery or a pottery studio at any moment depending on community mood.

It was not a butchery though - the butchery, however, seemed imminent because when we crossed the road, we found about five people painting a sign onto the wall of a building.

This could have been family.

It could have been neighbours.

In a small town, honestly, anything’s possible.

Wakkerstroom has everything a proper small town should have - quirky little shops, excellent food, dangerously good biltong, friendly people, actual community spirit, and a hotel so charmingly old-world it feels like you should arrive by horse and announce yourself via telegram.

Nothing feels manufactured.

Nothing feels performative.

It simply exists exactly as it is, and somehow that feels incredibly rare now.

So yes, we hiked the spectacular Ossewakop at Oshoek Farm, stayed at the ridiculously charming Forellenhof Guest Farm, hiked the wonderfully adventurous Induku Trail, ate our weight in food at The Coffee Shop, and again for breakfast at Red Rooster.

And somehow, despite all that, it still feels like I barely scratched the surface.

We didn’t even properly explore the famous wetlands yet, which means Wakkerstroom still has unfinished business with me.

So yes, unfortunately for everybody involved, there is an extremely high probability that I’ll be back

And the worst part? It’s actually not even that far from Johannesburg, which means I no longer have excuses.