We cut our stay in Mozambique short by a week to take the opportunity to go to South Africa and visit Kruger National Park, or “The Kruger,” as most people there call it. It was the second time in my life I’d been within a few hours of this world-renowned nature preserve the size of Belgium, so I figured it would be wise to seize the opportunity. Plus, Michael had bought a great SLR camera right before the trip, and we were both eager to try some serious wildlife photography after our short visit to Gorongosa earlier in the summer.We bought a bus ticket with a South African company that runs daily buses between Maputo and Johannesburg, stopping along the way in Nelspruit, our base for Kruger. When the bus pulled up, we were awe-struck. It was a modern, two story bus in great condition. What?!?!? We got on, and seriously spent the first 20 minutes laughing and exclaiming over and over about the leg room, cushy sheets, smooth ride, and overall personal space.
Arriving in Nelspruit about 4 hours later was like arriving in a completely different area of the world. The whole place was just so developed, so efficient, so clean! And, apparently, so dangerous… We asked the bus porter where we could find a reliable taxi, and the next thing we knew, a rough-looking Afrikkaner man (of Dutch decent) was insisting, rather aggressively, that we take a ride from him as soon as he saw his wife and kids safely on to the bus to Johannesburg. To trust or not to trust? Honestly, we were a bit sketched out by this man, but had heard more than enough warnings about “bad taxis” in South Africa that rob you of everything and leave you stranded on the side of the road (and worse).
There were no taxis around, good or bad, and the Afrikkaner’s family looked like nice people (as far as you can judge such a thing at a bus stop from 100 feet away), so we decided to take our chances with him. The bus porter stood close by.
“It’s ok,” we told him. “You can leave – we’ll just wait for that man.”
“No, I wait,” he insisted. “This here, very bad area. Very dangerous.”
In about 5 minutes, the Afrikkaner man returned. “Ok, let’s go,” he said. “Sorry to make you wait, but I want to see my family safely on the bus before I leave. I can’t even leave them on the sidewalk next to the bus or maybe they’ll be attacked. But they’re safe with me. All the criminals know me and they won’t bother them if I’m around. You’re safe with me”
Uhh…
We got into the man’s truck. I thanked him for the ride, and he immediately dismissed my thanks with a 15-minute rant that stopped only when we pulled into the (heavily gated) driveway of the backpacker’s place, Funky Monkey.
“Frankly, I have no idea why you’ve come to this country,” he began. “The whole country, it’s so dangerous. People are murdered every day, just here, right in this area. I’m safe because the criminals all know me, but they’ll attack you in broad daylight, throw you to the ground and hold you down and take everything, and if you resist they’ll stab you. That’s how it is here.”
He continued with more and more gruesome details, including (and I quote…), “I mean, if you want to kill someone, that’s fine, but at least don’t cut their bloody head off!” He kept repeating that the criminals all know him, and I was quite curious to know, umm, why exactly that was, but couldn’t get a word in. He explained it anyway. “The criminals all know me, they know I’m quick with my gun and they know I’ll use it. I carry it with me, everywhere I go, in my house, in my bedroom at night.” He then told us the story of a night when three of “them” (black men) broke into his house wielding knives (“and I know knifes, and these were meant to kill us, that’s what knives like that are for, and they wanted to kill my wife, my kids, me…”). The story ended with the intruders running away, him running after them into the night, and catching and beating up 3 of the 5 men before turning them into the police and eventually getting fined for assault.
When we arrived at the backpackers, he gave us his name (Neil) and phone number, insisted that we call him if we needed anything, and recommended that we leave the country as soon as possible.
This was our welcome to South Africa. OhMyGod can we please go back home now?
* * * * *
More on Neil in a post to come, but for now, we’ll move on to “The Kruger.”
We had really debated while in Mozambique if we wanted to rent a car and try a “do it yourself” safari, or go with an organized company. We met many people who’d done both, and everyone insisted that their way was “much better.” There were obvious drawback and benefits to both, but we decided to go with a organized company so that we could be in a high vehicle (to see farther and above the grass) with a trained and knowledgeable guide who could find rare animals and tell us all about them, despite the fact that this put us on a more rigid schedule and allowed less flexibility.
We decided to go with “Funky Safari’s” (yes, there is an apostrophe), run by Henry van der something, an utterly psychotic but very friendly and enthusiastic South African who seemed to be on speed, but in fact smoked at least 3 joints of weed each afternoon we were there. We’d heard good things about them, and, for a budget option, were very pleased with the company. His wife, Lorna, a very friendly, motherly English woman the polar opposite of Henry, ran the associated backpackers, Funky Monkey.
We spent 3 full days and one 4th morning in the park. We were told that most people would see lions, rhinos, elephants, giraffes, buffalo, hippos and lots of antelope species in that time. If we were very, very lucky, we might see a leopard.
We woke up at 5:30 every morning, and were driving around the park by 6:00. It was totally freezing in the mornings, especially for Michael and me because we’d only brought warm-weather clothes. Due to poor planning, I ended up looking like a crazy woman in an attempt to stay warm. I wore my only skirt, which was very purple, over my capris for an extra layer. On top, I wore a short sleeve shirt, a long sleeve shirt, and my only sweater, which was also entirely purple. The only shoes I had were my chacos, but I had a pair of brightly colored, striped wool socks which I wore anyway. My skirt stopped mid-calf, so these were entirely visible and shining brightly. To top it off, I had a neon green fleece blanket printed with koalas eating strawberries, which I wrapped around me to stay warm as well. I think it took me a little longer than normal to make friends here…
Like I said, we started our morning drives by 6:00. The veld was covered in mist and absolutely beautiful this time of day. As we drove along on our first morning, we saw a rhino (my first ever in the wild!), some elephants, and some beautiful male kudu (antelope with big, spiraling horns). The rest of the day, we barely saw anything, but still enjoyed the scenery and the few giraffes we found.
We decided to go with “Funky Safari’s” (yes, there is an apostrophe), run by Henry van der something, an utterly psychotic but very friendly and enthusiastic South African who seemed to be on speed, but in fact smoked at least 3 joints of weed each afternoon we were there. We’d heard good things about them, and, for a budget option, were very pleased with the company. His wife, Lorna, a very friendly, motherly English woman the polar opposite of Henry, ran the associated backpackers, Funky Monkey.
We spent 3 full days and one 4th morning in the park. We were told that most people would see lions, rhinos, elephants, giraffes, buffalo, hippos and lots of antelope species in that time. If we were very, very lucky, we might see a leopard.
We woke up at 5:30 every morning, and were driving around the park by 6:00. It was totally freezing in the mornings, especially for Michael and me because we’d only brought warm-weather clothes. Due to poor planning, I ended up looking like a crazy woman in an attempt to stay warm. I wore my only skirt, which was very purple, over my capris for an extra layer. On top, I wore a short sleeve shirt, a long sleeve shirt, and my only sweater, which was also entirely purple. The only shoes I had were my chacos, but I had a pair of brightly colored, striped wool socks which I wore anyway. My skirt stopped mid-calf, so these were entirely visible and shining brightly. To top it off, I had a neon green fleece blanket printed with koalas eating strawberries, which I wrapped around me to stay warm as well. I think it took me a little longer than normal to make friends here…
Like I said, we started our morning drives by 6:00. The veld was covered in mist and absolutely beautiful this time of day. As we drove along on our first morning, we saw a rhino (my first ever in the wild!), some elephants, and some beautiful male kudu (antelope with big, spiraling horns). The rest of the day, we barely saw anything, but still enjoyed the scenery and the few giraffes we found.
What a change the next day! We saw buffalo, rhino and elephants first thing, found a pride of lions basking in the sun on some rocks early in the day, and then sped off when our guides heard reports of a leopard. Sure enough, we found a leopard maybe 150 feet from the road, lounging in a tree in the heat of the day. We were pretty ecstatic. All the “Big 5” in one day, including an elusive leopard! But that wasn’t all. As we were chilling by a water hole later that afternoon watching a herd of elephants drink, a family drove up and told us a leopard had just brought down an antelope on a road nearby. Our guide was hesitant to go, as it was out of the way and we were supposed to be back to the camp soon. As we (in our vehicle were Mike, me, and two girls from Rice University) tried and tried to convince him, another car pulled up and informed us that in fact, the animal that had just brought down an antelope was a cheetah! We completely flipped out, and I think it became clear that we were willing to hijack the vehicle if our guide didn’t take us, so he agreed to go on the condition that we promised not to tell a single person (he was really worried about getting in trouble for coming back late!).
I don’t know if I can adequately explain how excited I was. Ever since second grade, there have been two animals that I have wanted to see but was sure I never would because they are so rare that they are basically extinct: cheetahs and blue whales. As we sped along the road toward the supposed cheetah, I was going crazy with anticipation!
I don’t know if I can adequately explain how excited I was. Ever since second grade, there have been two animals that I have wanted to see but was sure I never would because they are so rare that they are basically extinct: cheetahs and blue whales. As we sped along the road toward the supposed cheetah, I was going crazy with anticipation!
Soon we saw a mass of maybe 40 vehicles, crowded together and parked on the road. We slowly pulled up alongside them, parked, and saw a beautiful cheetah walking straight toward us before plopping down under the shade of a tree about 25 feet from the road. It was incredible! She was such a beautiful animal, and so close that I could see every spot, her chest expanding and contracting as she panted, even the blood on her mouth. About 50 feet beyond her lay the antelope she had just killed, and even the gory rips across its side and the bloody, exposed muscle on its flank was beautiful in this scene. It was AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And, we gave our guide a very nice tip for taking us against his will. ☺
And, we gave our guide a very nice tip for taking us against his will. ☺
So, Day II was obviously incredible. Michael and I had signed up for two days with the option of extending into 3 (plus an extra morning). We realized that we had just had possibly the luckiest day in the history of Kruger Park (even guides who drive the park every day only see cheetahs a few times a year, and virtually never what we saw!), and that the next day would feel a little lame in comparison. Nonetheless, we decided to stay and enjoy it as best we could, though we kept repeating “let’s not be disappointed when tomorrow’s not nearly as good.”
We awoke a number of times in the middle of the night to an eerie but oddly beautiful sound we couldn’t recognize. In the morning, the guides told us that it was the male lions, returned from a few weeks “patrolling” the territory and calling to the pride of females, trying to find them. We took off at 6:00 and headed straight for the place the guides thought they might be. We rounded a corner, and suddenly slammed on the brakes. Strolling down the road straight toward us were two enormous male lions. Trailing them was a line of about 15 cars, though only those in the first few cars had any chance of seeing them well. Our guide quickly pulled to the side of the road and told us to remain quiet and not make any sudden movements. The lions approached, closer and closer. They were soooooo beautiful, incredibly healthy and young, but with full manes. As they walked toward us, I looked into the huge, yellow eyes of the first male, and as he passed, he turned its head to keep his eyes on us the entire time. I can’t describe this without sounding terribly cheesy, but it was one the most amazing experiences I’ve ever had. I’ve never felt so in awe of an animal, or, honestly, so face to face with my own mortality. I know it sounds really cheesy, but it was amazing knowing there was nothing but 5 feet of air between me and this enormous lion. Michael had his zoom lens on and was taking pictures. When the second lion walked right by us, he tried to take a picture, but the camera couldn’t focus, because the lion was too close. I asked him what the minimum focusing distance of his lens was. The answer: 4.9 feet.
So the lions passed us, and then the trail of other cars and safari vehicles. We turned around and followed the trail, but the lions passed into the high grasses near a road junction, and people were starting to get frustrated and were honking and revving their engines and zooming around trying to get a good view. Our driver just put the car in park and stayed there.
“Why aren’t you going forward?” we demanded. “The lions went up there!”
“No, no, there’s too many people. No good,” he replied.
“We don’t care if there’s too many people; we’ve come all the way from the US to see this!” the girls from Rice cried out.
“No, no, let’s just wait.”
All of us were pretty annoyed, and sat grumbling in the safari vehicle for about a minute and a half, craning our necks to see if somewhere up in the honking traffic were the lions. Our guide ignored us.
“Ah…” he said, suddenly, and we looked where he was looking.
The younger male was emerging silently from the grass not 15 feet away from us. He paused on a small knoll, looked around, then let out the same beautiful, haunting call we’d heard during the night.
“He’s calling for his brother,” our guide whispered.
The lion gave us a good look, then walked down to the road we were on. He strolled past us, looking around for his brother, and we sat in the peaceful quiet, just us and the lion, as he made his way down the road away from the honking cars ahead of us.
* * * * *
We awoke a number of times in the middle of the night to an eerie but oddly beautiful sound we couldn’t recognize. In the morning, the guides told us that it was the male lions, returned from a few weeks “patrolling” the territory and calling to the pride of females, trying to find them. We took off at 6:00 and headed straight for the place the guides thought they might be. We rounded a corner, and suddenly slammed on the brakes. Strolling down the road straight toward us were two enormous male lions. Trailing them was a line of about 15 cars, though only those in the first few cars had any chance of seeing them well. Our guide quickly pulled to the side of the road and told us to remain quiet and not make any sudden movements. The lions approached, closer and closer. They were soooooo beautiful, incredibly healthy and young, but with full manes. As they walked toward us, I looked into the huge, yellow eyes of the first male, and as he passed, he turned its head to keep his eyes on us the entire time. I can’t describe this without sounding terribly cheesy, but it was one the most amazing experiences I’ve ever had. I’ve never felt so in awe of an animal, or, honestly, so face to face with my own mortality. I know it sounds really cheesy, but it was amazing knowing there was nothing but 5 feet of air between me and this enormous lion. Michael had his zoom lens on and was taking pictures. When the second lion walked right by us, he tried to take a picture, but the camera couldn’t focus, because the lion was too close. I asked him what the minimum focusing distance of his lens was. The answer: 4.9 feet.
So the lions passed us, and then the trail of other cars and safari vehicles. We turned around and followed the trail, but the lions passed into the high grasses near a road junction, and people were starting to get frustrated and were honking and revving their engines and zooming around trying to get a good view. Our driver just put the car in park and stayed there.
“Why aren’t you going forward?” we demanded. “The lions went up there!”
“No, no, there’s too many people. No good,” he replied.
“We don’t care if there’s too many people; we’ve come all the way from the US to see this!” the girls from Rice cried out.
“No, no, let’s just wait.”
All of us were pretty annoyed, and sat grumbling in the safari vehicle for about a minute and a half, craning our necks to see if somewhere up in the honking traffic were the lions. Our guide ignored us.
“Ah…” he said, suddenly, and we looked where he was looking.
The younger male was emerging silently from the grass not 15 feet away from us. He paused on a small knoll, looked around, then let out the same beautiful, haunting call we’d heard during the night.
“He’s calling for his brother,” our guide whispered.
The lion gave us a good look, then walked down to the road we were on. He strolled past us, looking around for his brother, and we sat in the peaceful quiet, just us and the lion, as he made his way down the road away from the honking cars ahead of us.
* * * * *
The rest of the day was a bit dull, but we were still amazed by the morning. We went to bed feeling thoroughly satisfied, and ready to go home after our 4th and last morning drive.
We set off again at 6:00, and saw a herd of buffalo, some elephants and a rhino. Then, off in the grass about 60 feet away, we spotted a herd of the very rare sable antelope, which we had really wanted to see but hadn’t. They were really, really beautiful and we loved photographing them.
We then drove back to the spot where we’d seen the lions the day before. Tons of cars were driving away from the area, and one of them pulled over and the driver told us that the whole pride had been near the road, but finally disappeared down into an area where there wasn’t any road access. I wondered if the huge crowd of honking and anxious people had anything to do with that.
“Sorry, friends, but it was a good try,” our guide said. “But once they’ve gone there, the lions won’t return until the end of the day.”
Darn.
Ah well. We drove along a few minutes, and our guide stopped at a pile of rhino poop to explain the territory marking of white rhinos. As we were staring at the poop, one of the Rice girls suddenly gasped, “Lions!” About 60 feet up the road, a female lion was crossing the road. Our guide quickly turned on the engine and drove near to where they were. He turned the engine back off and we sat there, the only car around, as one by one, the entire pride crossed the road. It was so magical. Four or five females, then the two males, slowly made their way across. The last male plopped down in the middle of the road for a minute or two, resting, before standing up, stopping for a HUGE yawn that in our super ridiculously amazing pictures looks like a giant roar, and disappeared into the grass.
We then drove back to the spot where we’d seen the lions the day before. Tons of cars were driving away from the area, and one of them pulled over and the driver told us that the whole pride had been near the road, but finally disappeared down into an area where there wasn’t any road access. I wondered if the huge crowd of honking and anxious people had anything to do with that.
“Sorry, friends, but it was a good try,” our guide said. “But once they’ve gone there, the lions won’t return until the end of the day.”
Darn.
Ah well. We drove along a few minutes, and our guide stopped at a pile of rhino poop to explain the territory marking of white rhinos. As we were staring at the poop, one of the Rice girls suddenly gasped, “Lions!” About 60 feet up the road, a female lion was crossing the road. Our guide quickly turned on the engine and drove near to where they were. He turned the engine back off and we sat there, the only car around, as one by one, the entire pride crossed the road. It was so magical. Four or five females, then the two males, slowly made their way across. The last male plopped down in the middle of the road for a minute or two, resting, before standing up, stopping for a HUGE yawn that in our super ridiculously amazing pictures looks like a giant roar, and disappeared into the grass.
Ahhhhh. So utterly and entirely satisfied, we returned to Mozambique that afternoon, did some crazy souvenir shopping the next day, and flew away from this wonderful place.
Up next… (I promise I’ll try to post it soon!)
“Ten Days in the ‘Worst City in England’”
And… “First Week in India” (I’ll try to think of a cleverer title before then)
Up next… (I promise I’ll try to post it soon!)
“Ten Days in the ‘Worst City in England’”
And… “First Week in India” (I’ll try to think of a cleverer title before then)
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