We’re not as refreshed as we hoped when we have an early breakfast in the beautiful, light conservatory of Hunters Country Lodge. And our inability to start the hire car is of course nothing to do with the slightly dusty state we find ourselves in. However, with a little guidance from Peter, the hotel manager, we’re soon on our way to Jukani, the first of three animal sanctuaries we’re booked to see today. 

Along with Monkeyland and Birds of Eden, their mission is to rescue animals from abusive situations, including mistreatment in circuses, being kept by unscrupulous individuals as exotic pets, Far Eastern exploitation for nonsensical medicines and rehoused from zoos that are either closing down or over-populated with that species so at risk of in-breeding.

However the most disturbing thing we learn as we walk past the well-considered and spacious enclosures is that “canned” hunting is prevalent throughout South Africa.  Unlike Kenya and Tanzania where we have seen a wide array of animals on safari, South Africa has no truly wild animals with all their “safari” experiences actually being enclosed and fenced spaces. These managed environments purport to be wild but are often purely money-making endeavours backed up by a South African government desperate for foreign currency, and the worst of which are those which allow hunting.

It transpires that while fewer than 30,000 lions exist in the wild in the whole of the African continent, more than 40,000 are bred by canned hunting farms in South Africa alone and kept on captive plots to be drugged and shot by trophy-hunters; mostly American, but with rich Russian, Arabic and Chinese murderers joining in too. 

We see Siberian tigers (less than 300 left in the wild), jaguars, pumas, cougars and Bengal tigers, all on the verge of extinction due to human destruction of their habitats. It’s hugely depressing to hear how we have driven these magnificent creatures to the edge of existence but meeting the people trying to save them is inspiring and hopeful at the same time. 

In nearby Monkeyland, we have a far more optimistic experience. It’s a huge wooded space where all the primates roam free, and despite the declining wild populations, here the hooting, howling, screaming and barking groups of rescued capuchins, gibbons, howlers, lemurs, and aggressive, greedy hanumans from India are increasing in size and seemingly having a wonderful time swinging through the indigenous forest, cared for by passionate volunteers and biologists. 

We cover ourselves in the citronella cream that is provided but are still bitten by the ever-present mosquitoes that accompany the monkeys, but our itchy weals are worth it to experience gibbons swinging at speed literally right above our heads on a swaying 128 metre rope bridge and to see giant tortoises in coitus on the path in front of us, their slow orgasmic exertions leaving deep tracks in the soil at our feet whilst their guttural exultations ricochet through the forest. 

Our third and final wildlife park of the day is Birds of Eden, which is an absolutely vast aviary, with thousands of birds contained in an incredible natural habitat. Over more than 2.3 hectares of forest a high canopy has been placed, with a 2km walkway in place to allow visitors to walk through an enchanted woodland full of nearly 300 species of African birds. Ornithologists sporting cameras and binoculars jostle with ordinary tourists to catch glimpses of bright plumage and odd behaviours. 

We wander through the jungle forest spotting birds as we go, then grab a quick bit of lunch in the on-site cafe and jump back in our car to head through the most picturesque bit of the Garden Route, the Tsitsikamma Forest, passing through the tollbooths and entering the national park, crossing from the Western Cape province to its Eastern Cape counterpart. 

With its gorges and rivers, woodlands and landscapes it finally suggests why the highway has its name and reputation, but still pales in comparison to the glories of the Little Karoo. Yet again we’re bemused by the fact that South Africa’s spectacular interior highway is far less well-known than its over-hyped coastal road. 

The drive from Storms River Bridge, which spans a deep gorge with engineering brilliance, on towards our eventual destination of Port Elizabeth is long and yet peculiarly British once more, with fields and hills rolling through the landscape alongside huge wind turbines, rising with strength and beauty into the air. 

Our satnav comes into its own as we negotiate the highways and back streets of P.E. itself, searching for the rarified compound of the Hacklewood Hill Country House, secure behind tall security gates and electric fencing. We’re in a different part of South Africa now!

Yet within this little sanctuary it’s as if we’ve headed back 100 years. In a grand Victorian mansion, with fabulous period furniture, beautiful pool and lots of staff attending to our very need, we’re greeted by Kolewae, a member of the Xhosa tribe and shown into the drawing room to sign the visitor book. We’re the only people staying tonight and it feels a bit like we’re early house guests waiting for our absent hosts to arrive in some strange Agatha Christie drama. 

Our room has a balcony that overlooks the pool but Kolewae leads us instead into the cellar where we are presented with a vast array of wines for our dinner, which has been created especially for our vegetarian needs by their award winning chef. Being the only guests we essentially have our own personal chef tonight. 

Before we have a chance to unpack we’re served a Pierre Jourdan sparkling pinot noir champagne on ice on the verandah and then Vuyo, the hotel manager, leads us up to our room, entitled Mandiba, where we sit on the balcony feeling slightly discombobulated by the whole experience. 

In the spirit of a bygone age we dress for dinner and head back down the stairs, past a host of fine dining awards from American Express and the South African tourist board and are led to our solitary table in the fully laid dining room, where a candlelit table awaits us. 

Yet more mushroom arancini is on the menu, beautifully delicious, but the baked camembert in filo pastry with blueberry compote completely divides us. Coman loves it but I find it deeply unpleasant, with a hugely ethanol, almost chemical taste that is overpowering, almost suffocating. It’s very strange indeed. 

Fortunately the Thai coconut risotto and baked mushroom and artichoke is lovely and our dessert of strawberry cheesecake and creme brûlée is delicious. Washed down with a subtly spicy Cederberg 2016 Merlot Shiraz - full of black cherries, plum and raspberry - it’s a steal at less than £30 a head. 

We take the wine into the drawing room and relax for a while, with just the ticking of the grandfather clock for company, heading upstairs soon after 9.30, mindful of the staff waiting on our whims, and the homes they have waiting for them. We turn the lock for the night and pull the balcony doors tight, it’s been a surreal kind of evening.