By Jennifer Stern

I have learned there are two sides to everything. And sometimes it’s a good idea to pay attention to the “other” side – the dark side, the wild side, the quiet side. The side everyone ignores. So, on a recent trip up the coast, that’s what I did.

I know I made a big fuss a couple of months ago when the first whales were spotted in False Bay right at the beginning of winter, and there have been quite a few seen since then, but the whale season is really only just beginning. And, while False Bay offers awesome whale watching both from shore and by boat, the little town of Hermanus, a couple of hours’ drive up the coast, is really synonymous with whales. They even have a whale festival in September. Ask anyone and they’ll tell you that Hermanus is the best place in the world for shore-based whale watching. Well, that’s pretty close to the truth, but it’s not the whole truth.

Hermanus, as you may or may not know, is on the western edge of Walker Bay, which is a very popular whale holiday destination. They head up here every second winter for a bit of sea, sun and sex and to escape the freezing Antarctic winters. But Walker Bay, as bays tend to, has two sides. And here is the little-known secret. The other side offers better whale watching. It’s not as easily accessible, but it’s also much less crowded. In Hermanus you can stroll along the cliff top path checking out the whales, buying a range of craft from colourful stallholders and popping in to a handy restaurant, pub or coffee shop for a quick pick-me-up.

The other side is – well – less developed, less well marketed and certainly less well populated by tourists. The very eastern-most edge of the bay is the not particularly fashionable fishing village ofGansbaai but, just before you reach this little town, if you’re travelling from Hermanus, you’ll see a turn-off to De Kelders. This little seaside hideaway is a gem. Higgledy piggledy roads meander along the cliff tops with houses and guest houses peering precariously over the edge into the sea. And, of course, the whales hang out just at the base of the cliffs.

We decided to check out this side of the bay and based ourselves for one night (which, in retrospect was far too short) at Umnenge Lodge. Overlooking a rocky shoreline, Umnenge is built to take advantage of the incredible view. The lodge only has two rooms, but our friendly host, Rick, showed us his plans for expansion. Slowly, though. He has no intention of rushing it.

We loved the African-themed decor, and I particularly liked the ultra-roomy shower – even though I did opt for a long soak in the marble-tiled bath. And I also rather fancied the huge veranda, where we spent a couple of hours just enjoying the quiet evening before finally flopping into bed. And it wasn’t long before I was back on that veranda. Something woke me at about four in the morning – yes, the unmistakeable sound of grunting whales. I slid out of bed, pulled on a fleece and headed out the open French window back onto the balcony. It was pretty chilly and I still couldn’t see the sea but I could smell it, and I could hear the whales. Sometimes I think we humans concentrate too much on sight and, if we don’t actually see something, we feel we are not entitled to “tick it off the list.” So we feel we’ve lost some kind of competition. Well, hearing whales is actually more exciting than seeing them, I think. Oh – what the hell – I’m not going to argue that point, especially as I have not seen a whale yet this year. Yes, even though I live in Fish Hoek.

Anyhow, we got up pretty early and enjoyed a quick cappuccino on the veranda as it became light. We could see the sea but the whales were gone. And then we left, driving the short distance to Klein Baai to check out some sharks – but more about that next week.