If you’re going to see game, specifically the Big Five, it seems logical to head to Kruger. But there’s a reason why you shouldn’t always do as logic dictates, as I found out last month when I headed into Limpopo to explore.
In fact, as much as I love Kruger, I think I’ll be saving up to spend my next game-watching escape in the 11 500 hectare Thornybush Nature Reserve, which is large enough to be home to vast quantities of game, including the Big Five, but small enough to be quite easily traversed if you’re up for a number of game drives.
And honestly, who wouldn’t be? The bush is teeming with life and we saw the Big Five in just two game drives: three leopard, five cheetah, four lionesses and a male lion (whose name happens to be Marvin – nobody knows why!) and herds of buffalo and elephant. Not that this happens every time, you understand; but the experienced trackers and rangers are so attuned to what’s happening in the bush that their best guesses usually take you straight to some unforgettable sight.
We spent two nights at the wonderfully private tented camp Nkelenga, which is unique in that it’s self-catering and you can book the entire camp for your family or guests. The camp is a home-from-home for up to nine people and has its own open Land Rover, which our ranger, Joe Mabunda, drove really well – as he was forced to, when we were following a male leopard over some sandy and hilly terrain.
The camp has a fridge, freezer and open-fire area overlooking a large waterhole, so you can eat outdoors or in the comfortable dining-room, or on the terrace. Nkelenga is rustic but sufficiently luxurious – guests want for nothing. If you don’t mind doing your own cooking (but not washing up – that’s taken care of), then it’s worth staying here for the freedom and privacy you can enjoy.
Naturally, the water hole attracts its fair share of game: a herd of buffalo spent quite some time here and we were close enough to see them distending their nostrils as they got a good whiff of the humans close by.
They seem serene, but there’s something hugely untameable about them. I personally find them scarier than big cats as they seem far more aware, and far less tolerant of one’s presence. Apparently they’re extremely unpredictable, perhaps because neither their sight nor their hearing is particularly good. They’re nothing like the domesticated water buffalo you see in Asia, for example; they have a reputation for aggression and even lions think twice about taking them on. When you meet a stamping, snorting herd in the twilight, you definitely don’t cosy up to them; it's far better to put some distance between you and these massive creatures, I always say.
We had a couple of fish-eagles coming to sit in the branches of thirsty trees – the seasonal rains had not yet begun and the bushveld was very dry, which did make it a little easier to spot game. Fish-eagles are criminally easy to spot, not just because of their colouration but because their call is absolutely unique: a distinctive African sound that can penetrate your soul.
Once you’re on game drives, you rely on the wits and experience of your tracker to guide you to game. Our tracker, Vusi (Joe’s son, keeping it in the family), was quick to pick out some hard-to-spot creatures. One evening, he managed to spot a young black mamba in a tree. Considering that young mambas are light grey in colour, and the tree itself was grey, the fact that he spotted it at all was astonishing.
I pity game-watchers who think that the bush is all about the Big Five, and having twitcher Rosemary Renton along with us on our trip was really enriching as she identified a lot of bird-calls for us. She brought her books along with her and we soon found ourselves poring over them, trying to identify some lesser-known winged creatures. My husband was fascinated by the massive termite hills – being from Iraq, he had not seen them before, and I had to restrain him as he wanted to leap out of the vehicle for a photograph with one. (We managed that later on in our trip, near the Blydepoort Dam in the Blyde River Canyon).
We spotted some unique animals you don’t see very often: a black-backed jackal, a serval, a chameleon trying to cross the road, a tiny steenbok, some beautiful eland. The bush is rich, even when it seems barren – if you are still and quiet for long enough, something tiny or huge will appear, crossing your path either cautiously or incuriously. There is just so much to be alert too. Our city senses need to adjust to fully appreciate what’s around us.
At night, as we sat around the campfire, we heard the coughing grunt of a lion somewhere close by – surrounded by just a fence, the small camp is in the heart of the wild, which makes it really special. As a massive thunderstorm broke on our last night there, and we watched sheet lightning flicker over the water hole, we again heard the lion, as if just outside our luxury tent. It was one of those primal moments that everyone heads for the bush to experience and we were thrilled and terrified at the same time.
Now if that isn’t the essence of being in the bushveld, I don’t know what is.
By Fiona Zerbst
www.nkelenga.co.za/
