If you’ve ever sat riveted before a National Geographic or Nature safari program on TV, you know how an African safari goes—terrified impalas fleeing a fast-as-lightning cheetah, immense herds of zebras and wildebeests migrating across a grassy savanna, a family of thirsty elephants joyfully converging on a waterhole, a victorious lion chomping down on a kill. But our 6-day safari trip to South Africa’s Kruger National Park wasn’t like that at all. Partly, that’s because the terrain in the two game reserves we visited was hilly and for the most part densely vegetated. Instead of gathering in vast herds on open plains, the animals traveled in smaller contingents and could easily disappear, if they wished, among the trees. But something else disappeared as well. In the midst of South Africa’s political, social and economic turmoil, Kruger’s game reserves were a world apart—oases of beauty and tranquility, sanity and awe.
We saw animals, of course, and when I say “we,” this happily includes Eric’s sister Ingrid and her husband Bill, who, having longed to visit South Africa themselves, planned our entire itinerary and flew from Chicago to join us. You can imagine how special that made the experience. This is the first time we’ve seen any of our family in person in three years. But back to the stars of the show, starting with the Big 5: lion, leopard, African elephant, rhinoceros and Cape buffalo, so-named not for their size but because they are considered the most dangerous and difficult wild animals to track and hunt on foot. You wouldn’t know it from the placid reception they gave us, though if you are troubled by the realities of Nature you may want to skip over the leopard photo below.
Other animals we encountered were hippos, giraffes, zebras, hyenas, warthogs, impalas, kudus, nyalas, wildebeest, wild dogs, baboons, vervet monkeys, and an African rock python. Yes, we’ve seen them on TV, but this was REAL and CLOSE UP. How close? Perched in our safari truck, we parked alongside lions completely unfazed by our presence. We stifled a yelp as a leopard padded toward us, then nonchalantly detoured around the rear of the truck. We would have stepped on the python, lying motionless beside us on the narrow dirt road, were we allowed to descend from the vehicle for a better look. Most of the large animals are habituated to seated humans in safari trucks, and we and the other guests followed the rangers’ strict instructions to sit still and not utter a peep. Bill and Ingrid win the prize for composure as a massive bull elephant strolled up, paused for a munch of grass, then carefully eyed us as he walked past. I swear his tusks were two feet from their faces, or less.
Locating these animals in the wild takes perseverance, skill and teamwork, not only between the ranger and tracker on each vehicle but between vehicles from different reserves. Whereas previously many of the individual reserves within Kruger were fenced off, the trend has been to remove the fences, creating larger territories for the animals to roam, feed and inhabit. The rangers communicate by radio to alert each other of their positions and exchange updates on what they are tracking. When a sighting is made, they coordinate their arrivals and viewing times to avoiding crowding the animals while giving the guests ample photo ops. In general, safaris take place twice a day, from sunup to about 0900 and from 1600 until darkness brings out the first stars. The hours in between are simply too blazing hot for either humans or beasts to be trotting about.
Also deserving of recognition are the smaller animals: scrub hares, tree squirrels, dwarf mongoose, butterflies, and insects like the hard-working dung beetle As one sunset safari drew to a close, we listened to an unseen frog chorus chirping and bubbling in the growing dark. Trees, grasses and flowers likewise play a vital role in Nature’s intricate design, yielding food, shelter and medicines. Sharing traditional knowledge, Tracker Elliot showed us how to wash our hands with a bit of water and the leaves of a plant which, when rubbed together, produce a liquid “soap.” He also demonstrated how to strip the green bark from another plant to twist and braid it into a long, continuous rope. Eric noted that this would come in handy if we were ever shipwrecked on an island and needed to tie logs together in a raft.
As for the birds, I was in heaven. With the rangers calling out IDs and Eric, Ingrid and Bill acting as spotters, I swung my binoculars left, right and skyward. Though South Africa has its share of LBBs (little brown birds), my jaw dropped again and again at the brilliant plumage flashing past. Vivid yellow and fiery orange, bold red and glossy black, iridescent shades of emerald, sapphire and amethyst—these creatures were jewels on the wing. In all, we saw 93 species, of which 64 were new to me, vaulting my life list over the 1,000 mark. And listen to the names: chinspot batis, lilac-breasted roller, long-tailed paradise whydah, malachite kingfisher, southern carmine bee-eater. My favorite name was “dark chanting goshawk.” Though the specimen we saw declined to chant for us, how can you not picture a robed and pointy-hatted wizard, magical staff upraised in one hand, sharp-eyed raptor perched on the opposite shoulder, about to cast a potent spell?
As for our lodgings, we were hardly roughing it. Our “bush” experience featured private cabins with African-themed décor and art, spacious beds, tiled baths, mini fridges and all the extras. Breakfast, lunch and dinner were served in open-air dining areas with views overlooking the landscape and waterholes so you can watch meandering elephants and count baboons while you eat. The food was plentiful and fabulous, and most of the drinks were included. Lest you get peckish while on safari, muffins and hot beverages were provided in the morning, snacks and sundowners in the afternoon. In between, the swimming pool beckoned and the TV room/library offered entertainment, books and board games. I was delighted that the cabins did not have TV screens, and leaving it to Eric, Ingrid and Bill to post photos and check email, I ignored mine and roamed the lodge grounds, searching for still more birds. For Eric and me especially, all this luxury was a strange and highly enjoyable interlude in our cruising lives. We sailed hard to get here, and we deserve it.
One final aspect that contributed to the pleasure of our stay was that the lodges had few other guests. They may have been busier over the Christmas holiday, but tourism venues throughout South Africa are still recovering from the impact of Covid and it’s selfish of me to relish the enhanced sense of privacy and quiet this gave us. As for the staff, the front-of-house people went all out to be helpful, the chefs were creative, the housekeepers were diligent, and our guides and trackers were highly knowledgeable and excellent company. South Africa needs the tourists and the jobs that Kruger and other parks provide, so when I asked Pieter, our ranger at Sabi Sands, whether the government understood what an important resource they had here and whether inviting a party of officials to visit would increase their awareness, I was startled by the vehemence of his reply.
“No!” he said, adding in so many words that the last thing anyone at the lodge wanted was to have the government become involved in Kruger or even be reminded of its existence. And I realized instantly what he meant. Illegal hunting and ruthless poaching threaten the survival of many African species, especially the rhinos and elephants, and when it comes to plundering the country’s riches, the criminally corrupt South African officials are the most heinous poachers of all. Don’t let them anywhere near this place, don’t breathe a word of it, or they’ll take one greedy look and destroy it for their own profit. Erect more of the electric fencing that helps protects the animals within the reserves and intensify the voltage to keep the government out.
On our final safari, we paused in the middle of a field to watch the sun set. Contrary to the almost totally dry weather in Cape Town, this is the rainy season in Kruger, and on some expeditions we needed the ponchos provided at each lodge. We didn’t begrudge the spells of precipitation. Half expecting the “bush” to be an arid brown landscape, we were treated instead to refreshing greenness, and when it was dry but overcast, the clouds cut the heat and the glare. This last afternoon was clear and sunny, however, and as the western sky segued from burnt orange to indigo to lavender and indigo, a full, pale gold moon rose in the east. A more serene ending, we could not have wished.
The next morning we flew to Zimbabwe to see Victoria Falls, one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the world. Located on the border with Zambia, the falls are known locally as “The Smoke That Thunders” because of the billowing clouds of mist and spray that rise from the plunging Zambesi River and drench everything in reach. Ponchos were once again required as the guide led us along the mile-long viewing pathway. The falls were indeed impressive, but touristy, a necessity to accommodate the number of visitors and to maximize the jobs and income to be derived therefrom. Back at our upscale lodge/hotel, I found a haven on our balcony overlooking unspoiled bush and a peaceful waterhole where impalas grazed and a giraffe arrived for a drink.
But it was Kruger that stole my heart, because there we didn’t just see Africa. We heard and smelled it. We absorbed and felt it in all its power and fragility, beauty and danger, complexity and blinding simplicity, the inches that separate life and death. May it stay in the hands of the people who truly love and protect it and remain forever a world apart.
