HIS mane would be the pride of any lion, his ripped physique the envy of the burliest bodybuilder and his leopard-print loincloth cool enough to rival any modesty-preserver Mowgli might don.
And when he opens his mouth and lets out his guttural cry of “Ah-ah-ah-aaah” – well, step back, king of the jungle. This is Tarzan of the Tsitsikamma and he can put anything you can do to shame.
Just watch him drop to the ground and do a dozen push-ups without breaking a sweat. Observe him leaping over fallen logs, muscles bulging and skin gleaming. See him hurtling down a steep hill, scattering small stones and kicking up dust as
