South Africa Day 8: Ah do lubs me some ellies

The day started as it had done yesterday; with me roaring to get out of the gates at 6AM. I drove slowly north on the gravel road to Matjulu Dam. I crawled through the early morning twilight, desperate for a sign of cheetahs; even wild dogs at a pinch. Nuffin'. There was also nothing at the dam, but on the way back I spotted a small rhino sleeping not far from the road.

This little guy was the embodiment of "just five minutes more". His eyes were open, so he was awake. His ears were going back and forth, so he knew we were there. A big safari coach parked and blocked my view when he finally got up, but they soon left. He stood for about five minutes, freaking out a couple of times at the little birds that accompanied his every move. Then he slowly keeled over in the grass, determined to get a few more winks.

I know it's morning, but I want to sleep longer.


Awake, but not liking it much.


Just a few winks more...


Zzzzz...


After this, I went east on the S110 for a while. I soon found myself in a big herd of ellies. I stayed with them for at least twenty minutes, taking pics of them; especially the three babies I saw. They were the cutest things, especially the first one I saw. He was rubbing himself lovingly against mommy's leg and stumbled forward every time she moved. I'm a sucker for cute babies, be they dogs, kitties or ellies. I loathe the bald, stinking, ugly little human versions; they're hardly even amusing until they're at least well into their teens. Ugh.

Totally adorbs.


This little one was as tired as the rhino.


A bit camera shy.


Sometimes you gotta get down to find the good stuff.


Anyways, the rest of that road was taken at a very slow pace, but the only things I saw were impala upon impala. Oh, and some more ellies far up on a hillside. The road was bumpy but went through beautiful, hilly terrain. At a junction, I took the S120 north to enter the H3.

I decided to take a late breakfast/early lunch at Afsaal again. Debra greeted me with a big grin and even remembered my drinks order from yesterday. The mixed grill was good and we talked some more. I told her I was leaving the park tomorrow and going home to Norway. She said two of her siblings had gone there on a brief visit during school; apparently, she was in kindergarten back then. She didn't say if her siblings had gone during high school or university, but I gathered they'd gotten some form of scholarship or stipend for the trip. As I paid my bill, I tipped heavily, gave her my email address, and told her to contact me if she ever got the chance to go to Norway.

Debra dropped a tray of leftovers and the residing birdbrains were thrilled.


Now, I thought there were fewer vervet monkeys around this year so I asked Debra, and she told me that one had bitten an employee and the authorities had put down seven or eight (monkeys, not employees). As I was leaving, I noticed a couple with two kids who were having fun putting out little biscuits for the cheeky little fuckers (again, the monkeys). Now, I fully understand the impulse to do so, and they're cute and funny little critters (really?), but there is a reason why there are rules in place.

This one fed himself.


Feeding a wild animal makes them connect humans with food and when that food at some later point is not given freely, they may become aggressive and bite or worse. That ensures the animal's death. I explained this as politely and friendly as possible and the people nodded and put away the food, praise Jeebus.

His table manners leave a little something to be desired.


This picture could have been used in an ad for the youghurt producer.


One of the babies soon took over.




Nom, nom.


After a good photoshoot with the monkeys, I traveled on. Soon, I came to a small waterhole. Here, everything was a pastoral idyll. Not a predator to be seen, impala and nyala grazing. A family of warthogs crossed the road with their little radio antennas straight up and off in the distance, two elephants were drinking from a concrete dam. As I was leaving, one of the elephants started walking towards the road, so I followed at a slow pace. Halfway, he stopped to have a good scratch against a tree, which shook vigorously.

Pastorall idyll.


Radar love.


First one side.


Then the other.


Then behind the ears for good measure.


Later, at the road to Numbi, I photographed a klipspringer, then took the S65 north again, desperate for predators. At the waterhole, there was a giraffe and an elephant, so I dutifully took some pics. I think maybe I've found the reason why there's sometime a drought on this continent. The amount of water an elephant wastes every time he takes a sip is astonishing. Speaking of water, at the only waterhole along this road, I photographed a big group of hippos. They were mostly sleeping, but every now and then one would emit a loud snort or bellow, followed by some replies before everything fell silent again.

Klipspringer from behind.


Oh hai!


Sleepy hippos.


I checked in at Pretoriuskop, had a so-so late lunch at the accursed Wimpys, then set off for one last desperate attempt; this time to find cheetahs. Sadly, none was to be found anywhere. I even passed a small traffic jam where they apparently had seen a leopard somewhere in the grass; it didn't matter. Nothing mattered now; I'd already gotten my lions and my leopards but it felt as if I wouldn't find happiness ever again until I'd bagged a cheetah. Sadly, I once again had to go to bed without so much as a whiff of one.

South Africa Day 7: Lions and leopards! Get your lions and leopards here, folks!

I started the next day very early. Up at 5AM, roaring to go at the gate at six. I immediately set course for the Mestel Dam, but only the hippos were there and they weren't even playing. After five minutes, I drove north, then southeast on the S7. Again, I took the Shabeni loop, and almost came up nuffin'. But a few hundred meters before the loop ended, and while my eyes were fixed on the hill off to my right, my peripheral vision registered that something was coming down the road my way. I looked, and there were two young, male lions in the middle of the road, bearing straight down on me.

I frantically grabbed my superlens and found them in the viewfinder. I pressed the button. Nothing happened. I turned the power on. Still nothing. With a sneaking suspicion, I opened the battery holder. Empty. I'd taken it out the night before and it was still in the charger, which was in my PC case, which was in the fucking trunk. No matter; I grabbed my other camera and started shooting a movie. 30 seconds later, they had passed me, walking along the side of my car.

I then remembered I had two spare batteries in the glove compartment and quickly grabbed one and inserted it. I swung the car around and got in a couple of photos, but none of them turned out too well; too much vegetation and too much sunlight straight at the camera. I had a protector thingy on, but the sun was just rising and hit me almost directly. Still, I had the footage and I had the memories. As with the leopard, there was no sound and they seemed almost embarrassed to see me.

Mr. Lion is busy, busy, busy.


Beautiful animals.


As they walked into the bushes and disappeared, I drove the loop one more time, but they were gone forever. I took a pic of two posing klipspringers before I went back to the paved road and eventually made a trip up S65, where I'd seen the leopard. This time there was no leopard, but a kindly elderly couple not only pointed out where they saw lions, but also gave me their spot to take some pictures. That type of friendliness is all too rare these days.

Klipspringers in the early morning sun. They're posing, aren't they?


I only stayed in that spot for about a minute, then spent the next 10-15 driving up and down that road, exchanging small talk with them and taking pics of the lions; we both thought we saw six of them. After some time it seemed as if they'd all gone to sleep in the grass, so instead of hanging around for another hour or two on the off chance they'd change their minds, I went south towards Afsaal and lunch.

Lion walking through the grass.


Even a lion needs a good scratching every now and then.


Or a lie down.


Two on the prowl, one behind a tree.


However, after just a minute down on the H3, I exchanged information with a tour guide. He said that about five minutes south, there was a leopard by the side of the road. I needed no further encouragement and sped off.

The leopard came as a shock and something of a disappointment. It sat quietly by the side of the road, while people in private cars and tour buses were going gaga, breaking all kinds of traffic rules and common decency to get as many pictures as possible of the animal. It moved once, to walk a few meters along the road, then sat down and waited again. I took both stills and a short movie, but was kind of let down that this was how little these animals now cared about cars and humans.

Not giving a fuck.


It had its eyes fixed at a group of impalas on a hillside on the opposite side of the road, but made no move to cross, much less to take up the hunt. Most of all, I think it looked like it had lost the will to live and was content with living out the remainder of its days as a tourist attraction. A sad end to a once mighty hunter.

Join the tourist industry they said. Travel; see things. Well, here I am. A once mighty hunter reduced to a photo op for fat Americans. What's left to live for, I ask you. I can't even cross the road and catch an impala in peace.


I didn't want to prolong the spectacle, nor contribute to the insane traffic lines I could see was about to form in both directions, so even though I had probably third best spot of two dozen, I drove on. The remainder of the day was spent on slow, kidney-rattling gravel roads, where only a few giraffes and some warthogs made an appearance.

Single, goofy giraffe.


Warthog family.


Towards the end, I spoke briefly with two bushrangers who asked me if I'd seen a dead rhino along the way; apparently several tourists had made a report, but these rangers weren't clear on the exact location. I said I hadn't seen any, but might have added that I'd even stopped taking pictures of live rhinos unless they were really, really close.

I had a pretty decent lunch at Afsaal, a picnic place along the H3, just where the Voortrekker road ends (or begins, if you want to be difficult about it). My waitress was a very cheerful and competent young girl by the name of Debra, and we exchanged some banter but mostly I questioned her about her working conditions and life in South Africa. She told me she worked 24 days straight, all day then had six days off. There was no such thing as sick leave. Although she looked to be about 12, she told me she was at university, studying law; she wanted to become an environmental lawyer. Normally, I'm not much of a treehugger, but having seen how people toss beer cans out their car windows down there, I was inclined to support her in her endeavor.

I splurged on desert; after all, I'd seen both lions and a leopard that day.


Nothing much exciting happened the rest of the day and I turned in early.

South Africa Day 6: Yawn.

The next day was probably the most boring I've spent in the park so far. I drove in through Phabeni, and of course, there was only one guy on check-in, so the line was long. In addition to almost not giving me my papers back, he failed to inform me that I needed to go in the left hand queue out of the gate, which caused some confusion when the guy in the booth tried to make me pay twice. A few well-placed fucks and I was on my way.

I quickly turned south on the S3, headed towards Numbi gate and Pretoriuskop Camp, where I had my first booking. The road wasn't terribly exciting. A few impalas and zebras scattered along the way and a family of one warthog mom and three little piglets. The only glimmer of real excitement came at the Mestel Dam, where I spent more than an hour in splendid solitude, watching three hippos making an absolute ruckus (and peeing in the wild again). I don't know if it was three youngsters or a couple and their baby, but one was significantly smaller than the other two.

A family of warthogs. Note how they'll go down on their knees to dig in the dirt.


This little piggy went to market.


They were playfully diving and jumping out of the water, playfighting and just having a grand old time, making huge splashes with their massive bodies. There were some older hippos still sleeping in a circle in the middle of the little lake. Every now and then one of them would let out some loud snorts or bellows; whether it was to shut the rowdy ones up or just general boredom, I do not know. All I know is it was amusing and heartwarming to watch the three play in the water that early morning.

Most of the adults were snoring in a circle.


Wheee!


I really like this pic.


Woo hoo!


After that, it went downhill. I drove the S3 to its end, I drove several loops in the vicinity of Pretoriuskop, and I even made an attempt at the old Voortrekker Road. It was in even worse condition than I remembered it and I gave up and turned back after 15 minutes. Additionally, they were doing a controlled fire off to the west, and all manner of bugs and crickets were fleeing, most of them it seemed through my car. I had to close the windows, but not before experiencing a few near heart-stopping occasions where I had to brush the nasty little fuckers off my chest, while letting out a girl's scream at the same time.

I did a couple more loops, then went east to the unfortunately named Shitlhave Dam, which just calls out for all manner of lame language puns. It had a solitary hippo in the middle and a lizard was crawling along one bank. Yay. I drove on, past two elephants with their backs turned and countless impalas and zebras. I took the gravel road that cuts across to Napi rocks, through terrain that screamed out for a big cat or ten, but fuck all was to be seen.


Exasperated, I drove back to Pretoriuskop to check in and grab a late lunch. I made the mistake of going inside the Wimpys, a South African chain of dubious quality. Their mayo sandwich was yucky and I got fries even though I didn't order any. Ugh. In addition the waitress made it pretty clear through her body language that she'd rather be anywhere but behind a counter, talking to people.

I then tried yet another trip north to Mestel, with an additional loop around Shabeni, a hilly area that also called out for cats. Nothing was moving. At Mestel, the hippos were sleeping on the beach, but some rude Krauts had the gall to sit and look at MY hippos, and that ruined it for me, so I went south again to do Shitlhave, Napi Rocks and finally almost an hour in boredom at Shitlhave yet one more time. This is the first day that I have been largely bored with Kruger.

South Africa Day 5: The Leopard

The next day I awoke at 5:30. I didn't fall out of bed this time, but the fucker was still wobbly. I set out for Lake Panic, where I'd seen hippos, crocs and ellies the year before. On the gravel road in, I was treated to three hyenas running across the road, but I didn't have time to get my camera. I also took a shot of a tree full of sleeping vultures. However, the lake itself was pretty quiet. You could hear the hippos around the bend, but that was all. Disappointed, but in good spirits, I set course for the Paul Kruger Gate and the S3 gravel road which follows the Sabie from there.

Vultures up a tree.


Alas, nothing. My beloved road, which had given me lions, rhinos and baboons last year, was almost empty, except for the usual impalas. I even met the cunt who guided us on our safari back then. I recognized him, because when I said "Hi, anything back your way", he gave me a challenging stare and said "How do you do?" I then recalled that the sanctimonious prick had told us that he always insisted on exchanging the insane pleasantries that so mar the English language before exchanging any information. You'd think the one place in the world where you might be cordial would be the bush, but apparently not.

I traveled on, looking for game and thinking idly upon how I'd like to kick the sanctimonious prick's teeth in, when I came to the paved road. A quick glance on the map showed another gravel road not too far off, going south; the S65. As it also showed a concrete waterhole, I took it since these often attract animals. Lo and behold, in addition to a gazillion impalas and a giraffe, it held a nice size rhino.

Giraffe w/bird.


Rhino w/bird & impala.




After a few minutes, the place started filling up with the safari trucks that usually show up at every good sighting and ruining it for me, so I pressed on. A little to the south, some stupid came up behind me at a high speed, so I pulled over and let him pass. I could see him disappear in a cloud of dust and thought to myself "what on earth do you take these gravel roads for if not to take your time?"

No sooner had I shaken my head and vowed never to be in that much of a hurry, but a movement up to the right caught my eye. I looked and there from the trees appeared… a leopard! Now this was the Holy Grail of animal sightings to me. I watched in amazement as the cat tiptoed carefully out of the forest and across the field. Frantically, I fumbled for my camera and in part excitement, part panic I spent the first few seconds trying to find him in the viewfinder, then trying to focus the damn thing. "Please dear fuck, don't let me mess this one up", I thought. But I didn't.

Coming out from the bushes.


Tiptoeing carefully across a field.


Looking at the pictures at lunch, I saw with no small deal of satisfaction that almost every pic had come out bright and sharp. The first thing that had struck me about it, sitting in my car and taking pictures, was how bright it seemed. Of course it was just my imagination (and the photos confirm this), but as it moved towards me it seemed as if it almost radiated light.

It a puttycat!


I kept taking pics and looking up to confirm that this wasn't some mirage, but an honest to fuck leopard approaching. The second thing that struck me was how fucking beautiful it was. Every move was a sight to behold; this was really poetry in motion, to use a cliché.

Poetry in motion.


It didn't seem aggressive or frightened. Had it been the latter, it would just as easily have disappeared into the trees again. At the closest, it can't have been more than a few meters from me, so looking back I was lucky it wasn't aggressive. It didn't make a sound the whole time, no hissing, no growling. It was simply going about its business, and as I was in its way, it was making a small detour around me; that was all.

So, so beautiful.


As it moved to cross the road behind the car, I quickly grabbed my other cam and in one fell swoop clicked on the movie setting. Cleverly, I pointed it towards my left side mirror and filmed the leopard crossing. It walked around in the forest a little, for I heard some baboons and birds screaming blue murder in there. Then it was gone, leaving me with one of the most cherished memory of my life so far.



I returned towards Skukuza to celebrate with a big chunk of meat and some cheesecake. If now wasn't the time, when? I briefly paused to shoot a rhino, but my heart wasn't in it anymore. Arriving at Skukuza I sat down and ordered. On the outside, I was all business, but on the inside, I was screaming my head off in joy and excitement. Sadly, the park was full of people without a fuck to hand out.

After a good, long lunch, I drove northeast to check out some gravel roads I didn't do the day before and I saw some ellies and giraffes and crocs and hippos, but again my heart wasn't in it anymore: I was done for the day. I drove out along the paved road to Phabeni gate and checked in to my hotel in Hazyview. Of course, the bathroom I was given didn't really match the description on booking.com, but that might very well have been my own damn fault for not reading the text properly.

Hippo eyeing me skeptically.


Croc.


I ended the day with a 300g slab of meat at Tank's Pub with some accompanying banter. They had a new waitress, no less funny than the one from last year. The owner, Graeme remembered me after some prodding; he even remembered where we'd been sitting. He also told me that the owner of my hotel - an English guy - was well known locally for his wit, something I'd gathered from reading the information in the room.