Betty's bay has many hidden magic places. Some so rare that their location needs to be kept secret from those who would not tenderly and considerately look after them.

For decades the Attwells celebrated breakfast on New Years Day in the hidden kloof they called “Breakfast Kloof”

The schlepp to the foot of the kloof is not for sissies, or those sporting a New Year's Eve head, although the climb will either kill you, or cure the same.

Lugging frying pan, eggs, bacon, sausages, and tomatoes, you have to struggle through thick scratchy, resistant Fynbos if the slope has not burned recently, (clamber up the streamlet if you will, but this will test you anyway).

Tea, coffee, and milk are essential, and a beer or two will salve any remaining headache.

Water is not required as the amber stream provides the best drink in the world.

At the foot of the kloof is a shady platform, only a few yards square and the constant drip down the vertical cliff, conveniently limits itself to a corner, but fills a little pool of delicious mountain champagne.

Now you can enjoy that beer or fizzie that loaded you down, but enhanced your thirst on the way up.

Take a rest as you slake your thirst in the shady bower that shelters you, it will restore flagging spirits and the vista down to the sea:
De Wet's Baai and the Hermanus Hills across Sandown Bay, will delight your eye.

Now ravenous, breakfast needs preparing.

The Attwells always had a “volcano”.

This magnificent camp-kettle was a simple 12-inch Diameter metal tube surrounded by a water jacket, and some 15 inches tall. Fill the jacket from the pool, drop a few twigs down the tube, light them from the convenient holes circling the base, and in no time you have boiling water to fill the Thermosses -ses, -s's -oi) you remembered to bring along.

At the same time the Frying pan, placed on top of the open upper end of the “volcano”, and primed with bacon, eggs, sausages and tomato, will soon be sizzling. A toast-mat similarly placed will do its duty in turn.

Depending on the number of climbers, breakfast may have to occur in shifts.

Before long, replete and somnolent bodies will be scattered around on the moss-carpeted sward, and you can admire the dripping water as it falls straight down the tall kloof, wetting the rare Red Disas that cling to the rocky cliffs.

You will be tempted to stay forever, and, though sad to leave, take comfort in the thought that next year you can come again!