Rodwell House

We’ve been in the car for six hours. So would you believe it when I say that as we hit the final stretch of coastal road we’d have been happy for our drive to keep going? Lush rolling scrubland that almost looks manicured, kites bobbing around among gulls beyond white sweeping sand dunes. It’s a dramatic end to our Garden Route journey. As instructed, we keep our eyes peeled for the brightly coloured beach huts of St James just past Muizenburg – our cue to turn off to Rodwell House.

St James is unlike parts of Cape Town we’ve stayed in before, and it feels like a sleepy, upscale residential neighbourhood in Europe. It’s especially incongruous here in this African enclave to discover at the end of a cul de sac, a respectable hotel. Occupying a prime position on the peninsular coast. 500km in the car melt away as we’re met warmly by Chris the manager, and made to feel instantly relaxed. The decor of Rodwell House is more traditional than many of the self-conscious boutique hotels on the circuit, with an array of 20th-century masterpieces around every corner. Stone statues, African carvings, and modern impressionist South African oil paintings are some of the owner, Robin’s valuable collection.

With the sun low, we ponder what to do for supper. But as fancy as the in-house menu looks, my banana-loathing other half blanches when he spots the starter. He suggests we hold off eating here until tomorrow night. A cold curried soup starring this very fruit leaves him suggesting a quick lie-down before we venture out to choose from the many cafés and restaurants within walking distance. Any mentions of yellow you-know-whats are forgiven.

Our huge suite is more contemporary than we were expecting, and the chic beige décor quickly has him feeling revived. All we can hear is the whoosh of waves crashing below and happy-as-can-be local children in the tidal pool right across the coastal road. A freshen up in the open-plan bathroom and we are really ready to stretch our legs – all six of them. This Smith couple is travelling with a junior. And so far she too is utterly smitten with Rodwell House. Not least because there are so many stairs through the beautiful landscaped gardens to test out her newly acquired bipedal action.

Our walk to Kalk Bay is via a beach full of surfers, and it’s feeling more Cornwall than Africa. Chic boutique after cute gift shop, ice-cream parlour after friendly café, but best of all is the discovery this pretty boat-filled harbour comes complete with seals frolicking in the water. We’ve been recommended the hip Harbour Club but as we’re with a toddler, we opt for the more informal Live Bait restaurant and it’s tempting offering of fresh fish and chips. We treat ourselves to the best bottle of white wine and still have change from R250, which works out as about a third of what it would for us at home in London.

If we didn’t have a nipper, we’d be spoiled for cocktail spots to choose from – the margaritas in Hananero’s look particularly enticing – but instead our vast open-plan suite beckons. By morning, the blackout curtains mean there’s no indication that the sun is beating down outside and we all enjoy a lie in. Although we still pitch up first for breakfast. Oh the joys of parenthood. After a little confusion over who’s eating what, world-class sausages and bacon swiftly compensate for having to be up so bright and early. Particularly when it comes with a side order of that grandstand sea view. Glorious spectacle enough, it’s made all the more interesting by the occasional interruption of the coastal train.

Now you may think we’ve mentioned enough about food, but a fun part about holidaying here is the obsessing about where our next meal is coming from. A lunch of the plumpest juiciest mussels at the legendary Olympia Café under our ever-tightening belts and we skip the tempting option of a tour of the wine route of Constantia and head south, south, south for a winning dose of nature. Now, you try explaining to an 18-month-old how it is that a colony of penguins come to be living in abundance on a sun-drenched sandy shoreline of Africa. I’ll sidestep the temptation to throw in a ‘it’s pretty black and white’ pun and just implore you to visit Boulders Beach Simons Town if ever the chance is available.

It was by happy coincidence we were back at this wonderful hotel on Valentine’s Day in time for the home-cooked spread in the low-key yet suitably formal feel of Rodwell House’s sitting room. For an evening we could pretend we were in the first flushes, while a baby monitor keeps an unintrusive link to the third person in our party. Meanwhile, superlative offerings from Rodwell House’s award-worthy private wine cellar helped make it all the more romantic. Just try not to feel in love on a balmy evening on this fine hotel’s terrace, when you have a glass of Steenberg Merlot in hand, the moonlit landscaped gardens in sight and the sound of the sea in the distance. A chic hideaway heaven-sent for romance – just don’t mention that banana soup.