Donkey’s Back…but.

Whitey called…

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You’re a lucky guy Scott. We all thought the turbo had blown, but we took it apart and it seems fine.

That was good news – the best price we’d had from Land Rover in Gabarone was 32,000 Pula (£2,300) plus shipping and fitting!

It seems the problem was that the fuel filters and injectors had become completely clogged – a lot simpler (& cheaper) to deal with than a blown turbo.

I knew all this cheap fuel was going to bite us in the backside.

We got the car back the following evening: engine oil change; new air, fuel and oil filters; power-steering fluid leak fixed; heat exchanger for the shower fixed back properly (after the bolts had sheared from the constant vibration); car polished (I haven’t seen the rust shine that well for ages).

Total cost P3,200 (approx £230 / $360) 50/50 labour and materials. Great news, good service and a reasonable price.

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We were going to celebrate that evening with a feast of Oxtail Stew at a local backwater cafe recommended by Mac, a S. African mining engineer staying at the hotel.

Mac also told us a few graphic tales of the extensive (and lets call them ‘invasive’) searches that took place every day at the diamond & coal mine he was visiting on the edge of town. That day he’d worked a 12-hour shift, 8.3km below ground, in the grime, fixing conveyor machinery.

Quite a character: mid-50’s, straight talker, fit as a butcher’s dog, 2 toes and 3 fingers missing – but a handshake like a garlic press.

Without going into too much detail, the daily searches take an hour and involve full body scans while standing naked on tiptoe in a booth like a revolving door. False teeth, jewellery, clothes, etc are scanned elsewhere. Once you’re scanned, everywhere you can hide a diamond or diamond dust on your body is physically examined. Everywhere.

As we were about to head out for Oxtail stew: snap. All the lights and power went off. Not just in the hotel, throughout the town. Apparently this has happened regularly since the Chinese-built power station was completed 2 years ago. The problem is that the contract signed with the coal mine means they get paid for every tonne of coal delivered – regardless of what condition it’s in. Therefore, from 8km down they deliver it wet – it never gets a chance to dry and the machinery eventually gets clogged with wet coal dust. Result: no power for 4-5 hours.

Dinner plans were revised to a very casual affair for our last night in Palapaye. A tin of corned beef, a tin of tuna, apples and pitta bread.

Local advice was not to cross the Mgadikhadi pans due to forecast storms so we left early the following morning and drove 250km north to Francistown.

We sailed through another 2 ‘Veterinary Control Fences’ that were as efficient as all the others we had crossed.

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There was little choice of camping around so we were a bit apprehensive when we turned up 5km South of Botswana’s 2nd biggest town at ‘Tati River Lodge’. The only thing ‘tatty’ about it was us – it was a very swish conference centre & hotel / bar with a cheap (& once again empty) campsite.

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From there, 200km north west along the eastern edge of Sowa Pan to Nata. I’m glad we didn’t go through the salt pans themselves, even the fringes that we drove around were wet and boggy. After our chicken pitta lunch at Nata Helene spotted that we were leaving a trail of liquid behind us as we drove out of the one horse town.

It had not been a great morning so far. I’d used almost all of my cash after I’d filled the car with fuel and then found my Visa card was ‘declined’. The only ATM in town was broken and the nearest cash machines & banks were 200km back in Francistown or 300km west in Maun (where we were heading). Paying for the fuel left me with about £6 in cash.

Therefore, my good mood hit a new high when we looked into the engine bay and saw a fountain of diesel spraying over the engine from a split hose linking the diesel injectors.

Checking with a few locals we found there was a bush-mechanic workshop on the edge of town that may be able to help.

It was padlocked up and no sign of life (mid / late afternoon on a Friday).

I managed to get the hose off. It was almost torn in half and the rubber was perished. I guess one of the mechanics at Whiteys may have inadvertently weakened it when re-fitting the injectors, but it would likely have eventually split anyway.

At least it didn’t fail while we were trying to cross the sodden Makgadikgadi!

Using my indisputable mechanical prowess I bound the crumbling hose with Duct Tape and strengthened it with wire so that it could be shaped.

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We had little choice but to keep going west towards Maun, knowing that there was a campsite after about 100km.

The road is still not bad out here, but it’s a pretty remote, unpopulated area to be driving with mechanical problems and another storm approaching.

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It’s not easy to miss Planet Baobab / Kalahari Surf Club Lodge, restaurant, cabins and campsite. There’s a 10m high Aardvark on one side of the road…

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… and a termite hill on the other…

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Camping is P150 (£10 /$16) per night. Fortunately, since I have no cash, they take Visa AND…they’ve agreed to let us run a bar-tab till we leave.

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We just had time to get to a camping pitch and batten down the hatches…

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…before the storm arrived…

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…and we hit the bar.

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Let’s hope the card works when we have to settle up.

Botswana

We left Kruger by the Phalaborwa gate and headed west.

It was strange to be on main roads again. Despite them being quiet, for the first couple of hours the speed was almost un-nerving (55mph / 80kph!!). Driving through villages and small towns felt really claustrophobic after Kruger and it took us at least 2 days to stop instinctively searching the trees for leopards and the bushes for elephants.

We took mostly main roads west via Tzaneen (like a sub-tropical western Scotland) and Polokwane (a large sprawling city that saw a lot of redevelopment for the 2010 World Cup).

Since we’d heard so much bad press about money-changers at the borders we decided to get some Botswana Pula at one of the many banks in Polokwane. It took us at least an hour to find a bank that had Forex facilities – and 2 more hours to get some money out of them.

Once they’d got my passport behind the counter I got the full ‘Spanish Inquisition’ interrogation:
…Where was I going?
…Why?
…When was I leaving S Africa?
…Which border crossing was I going to use?
…Did I realise it would be an offence to give the currency to any other person planning to cross the border?
…Why did I need the money?
…Why did I not have an address in S Africa?
Etc.

All answers (and many more) were filled in on a form which I had to sign and attach to a copy of my passport. It then took another 30 minutes for the clerk to type all of my answers from the form into the computer, print out three copies of the computer form and have me sign each one for their records.

Finally, I was asked how much currency I wanted. I said a couple of hundred dollars in Pula and a couple of hundred of Zambian currency (might as well get it now rather than go through all this again).

Not a chance” the clerk said. “I’m afraid we don’t have any Zambian and I only have 680 Pula.”
“OK, I’ll take it all. How much is that?”
That will be $70 sir”
Three hours searching & questioning – for $70!

Comical.

Oh well – he who laughs lasts.

Two days later we had passed through Mokopane & Baltimore, and were staying at The Big Fig campsite, still in S Africa, 10km east of the Botswana border at Grobblersbrug (Grobbler’s Bridge). Another nice campsite, grassy, shady, very well appointed shower block, Lapa brai-pit, nice restaurant for breakfast and very friendly people.

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The only downside was that due to harvesting, the farm next door was packing tomatoes from mid morning ’till about 8pm.

Our previous Safari Tinnitus was replaced by ‘doink-chi-chitty-tea-buuump-cheeee…..doink-chi-chitty-tea-buuump-cheeee…..doink-chi-chitty-tea-buuump-cheeee’ to the point where it almost became subliminal.

We were planning to stay 4 days or so at The Big Fig. Mainly to eat up all the meat in the fridge. I’d foolishly stocked up big-time earlier – forgetting that all the guide books / blogs / travellers we meet warn that there are Veterinary Fences at the Botswana border and throughout the country. These are ostensibly to protect Botswana farmers by preventing the spread of livestock disease. They’re commonly believed to be a way of feeding the border-crossing staff families though, since cars are searched and any meat or dairy products are confiscated (and supposedly destroyed).

So, for 3 days we ate fillet steak (2kg for £12 / $18), fresh chicken (1kg for £3 / $5), Texan Rib-eye steaks (1kg for £5 / $8). Eventually we couldn’t eat any more and didn’t really want to wait any longer. So I packed up a bag of fillet steak, rib-eye, ostrich burgers, pork sausages and chicken and gave it to the staff at the camp-site. I’d rather see it go to someone who’d appreciate it, rather than the border staff who undoubtedly either eat it or sell it after it’s confiscated.

Steeling ourselves for the ‘African’ border-crossing hassle we arrived at Grobblers Bridge (the South African side at 8.40am). After getting our passports exit-stamped, visas checked, customs document stamped we drove to the Limpopo river Botswana side, Martin’s Drift. Through the nicely air-conditioned offices, we got our documents stamped by the police, payed the cashier 250 Pula (£18 / $28) for 6 month’s road tax and our Entry Permit (no visas necessary for EU citizens) and were back on the road by 9.30am.

In and out in 50 minutes.

Simples…

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No Veterinary searches, or confiscated meat. Just waved through.
AAARGH!

Just to rub salt into the wound, I also went to one of the official money-changers and converted all my S African Rand to Pula: at a much better rate than in the town banks – and it took only 6 minutes!

Double AAARGH!

Oh well, to chear myself up I filled the tanks to the brim with cheap Botswana diesel P9.80 per litre (£0.65 / $1).

That was going to come back and haunt me too.

I’d tried to get the Carnet (car-passport / bonded temporary import permit) stamped at Customs but the Botswana Customs staff said it wasn’t necessary, as it had been stamped when delivered to Cape Town and would only need stamping when we leave Botswana for Zambia.

I hope they’re right!

The road from Martin’s Drift is littered with potholes (some big enough to bath in) and donkeys (actually more dangerous than potholes). There’s no camping for the first 100km or so over the border so, since it was still early we drove first to Palapaye (where we didn’t like the look of the campsite next to the railway) and then 25km NW of Serowe, where we knew the Khama Rhino Sanctuary had camping.

Expensive (P400 / £25 / $39) per night, but a lovely, private camping pitch, in a beautiful, large game reserve. Khama RS was originally established to protect Botswana’s last remaining white & black rhino by (and named after) the local Chief, who has since become President of Botswana.

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The camping pitches are attractive, large, individual and shady – but only have basic facilities…

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There is a shower block a short walk away, but since the pitches are un-fenced (the park has rhino, leopard, giraffe, wildebeest, jackal, warthog, kudu, hartebeest, etc) it’s best not to go walking too far after dark!

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We camped for a couple of nights and really enjoyed driving the narrow, sandy tracks and open pans through the large reserve.

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Although there are no lion or elephant, there’s plenty to see.

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The stars of the show are the rhino…

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But there’s other big stuff to see…

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…and there’s small stuff…

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You need to keep your eyes peeled to avoid squashing the dung beetles on the tracks. The balls they are rolling (backwards, head down) are impressively perfectly round and are used as an incubator for up to 100 beetle eggs. That’s why they’re constantly moving and protecting them.

Of course, sometimes it’s easier to spot them than others…

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The KRS staff are all helpful, friendly and very professional. They also have a large training / intern programme.

This is Imani.

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She’s studying tourism at college, where she has learnt about The Great Wall of China and The Louvre. She speaks French and 5 African languages and is hoping to work outside Botswana once she graduates.

We left Khama mid morning on Sunday. Although we’d hoped to head west then north through The Makgadikgadi Pans, rain was forecast and there had been flooding in recent weeks. It wouldn’t be sensible to try to cross the Pan north / south on our own under those circumstances so we headed east then north for Francistown.

About 55km from Palapaye the car started to chug like a steam train and we lost all power. White smoke streamed from the exhaust as if we were the first ones to arrive for the Land Rover Synchronised Driving Display Team.

Now what do we do? I called upon my extensive knowledge of all things mechanical – ie opened the bonnet and stared at the engine – but couldn’t tell what the problem was.

Fortunately, as I alternately wracked my brains and swore, after 30 minutes a family who had also been at Khama recognised the Land Rover stricken at the roadside and pulled over.

Richard & Lisa were from Gaborone but had family in Palapaye. After a couple of calls they tracked down a recovery service telephone number, called the guy and arranged for him to come out.

Thanks guys.

Only a couple of hours later Kez (who owns a recovery company and a couple of up-market car washes) arrived with his truck and took us to a garage he recommended just outside Palapye.

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The garage was closed, but Kez gave us the number for Whitey (the owner) then took us into town and found us a hotel, checked out the room and made sure we had everything we needed for the night.
Total recovery charge including a big tip, P800 (£55 / $80).
On a Sunday.
What a star.
Kez (Palapaye) Telephone: +7158 66 66

We spoke to Whitey late Sunday evening and he arranged to come down to the Desert Sands Motel, where we were staying, at 7am the next morning.

By 8am the car was at Kgaswe Motor Services (Whitey’s place) and Whitey was taking the turbo apart.

We were having breakfast at the Wimpy (the ‘restaurant’ in the motel) and I was trading emails with Liz & Frank, the Cyprus branch of Land Rover International Rescue.

Stuck in a one-horse town and our donkey is in bits.

Kruger Finale

Being in Kruger for almost 3 weeks has been wonderful. .

We’ve seen animals that are shy…

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…some that are really ‘in your face’….

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…and some that look fierce & intimidating when you come across them, but when they think you’re not looking, will actually put on a bit of a show…

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The camping itself is 30%-50% more expensive than campsites outside the park (270 Rand per night ie £13 / $19) but a lot of money is being spent refurbishing the camps, restaurants and chalets.

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Top Tip:
By buying an annual Wild Card for approx £130 ($190) for 2 people when we first arrived at Cape Town we’ve not had to pay the daily park entry fees (Conservation Fees) for any of the SAN Parks we’ve stayed at throughout South Africa. That’s saved us at least £1,000 (US$1,500).

Anyone can buy one and you’d be mad not to if in S Africa for any length of time.

For last couple of days in Kruger (before we head west towards Botswana) we took a couple of drives along the Letaba river.

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Although the grass & bush are high at the moment, we’re very lucky to be around when so much of the game we’ve seen has young with them.

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As if they don’t have a care in the world, young elephants just love to monkey around.

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Young monkeys do the same…

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Some of the birds are just as comical…like watching Nicola taking one of the mums’ dance classes back at home in Ripley. “Now come on ladies…let’s try and at least look coordinated…”

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Some of the birdlife we’ve seen has been tricky to spot.

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Other birdlife is extremely rare – like the Giant Ground Hornbill (which you’re asked to report sightings of)…

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… although, over just a few days we were fortunate to see dozens of them in a number of different areas.

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Some birds are everywhere…

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Looking look like they’re made of cake icing (or like Tony Hart’s Morph) the Red-billed Oxpeckers hang around cleaning the ears, eyes and arses of Buck, Rhino, Giraffe, Hippo and Sable Antelope.

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Other birds are just a pest. There are Yellow Hornbills at all the camps. They’re not aggressive but make a real racket at night. We got up one morning to a drum-like tapping and found two of them were stripping the rubber off of our windscreen wipers.

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Everyone has to be back in camp 30 minutes before sunset in Kruger. That’s a shame (accompanied night-drives are possible, but expensive) but sitting on a terrace with a beer (£1) or a large G&T (£1.30) watching the sun go down is no hardship.

One evening, at dusk, we watched a hippo come out of the bush, head for the water and sit in the shallows.

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About an hour and a half later (too gloomy for photos) she came back up the bank, coaxing a baby hippo alongside her. About the size of a small dog and very unsteady on its feet, it had been born only minutes earlier.

That night was also too gloomy to take pictures of the massive hyena that we watched prowl around the camp fence (the outside of the fence fortunately – not a friendly looking animal!).

On our last evening in Kruger we were rewarded with a beautiful sunset – and then 15 minutes later, in the east, what looked at first like a sunrise?

The full moon rose above the tree-line like a giant energy-saving lamp.

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It all seemed to happen so fast. No more than about 15 minutes from no moon at all to a giant ball balanced on the horizon.

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Then, reflecting the still fading sun, it lit up the river and the campsite.

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A great way to end our Kruger experience.
It probably doesn’t have the desolate, awe-inspiring beauty of Etosha, but it certainly ain’t too shabby.

Safari Tinnitus

The best way to see Kruger is to drive round the dirt tracks, river courses and waterholes. Here, you have to look for the animals, they don’t often come to you.
Once you get into the rhythm though you start to spot things that camouflage would otherwise perhaps prevent you from seeing.

“Are you lookin’ at me….Are you lookin’ at ME..?

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There’s a real pleasure in just sitting in the car and just watching an animal for a while, with no one else around.

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And the more you sit, the more you see that otherwise you would miss just flying from one waterhole to the next.

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Most of the waterholes we’ve been to in the park have actually been rather unproductive. Unlike Etosha where water is very scarce and attracts game from miles around, in Kruger there are many rivers and tributaries so the wildlife is spoilt for choice.

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I’m still not convinced who’s watching who though…

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Even the ‘harmless’ game can stop you in your tracks and make you think twice about proceeding if they’ve got young around…

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We’ve moved around quite a lot in the park, (Crocodile Bridge, Lower Sabie, Skakuza, Oliphants, Mopani & Shingwedzi) in order to see as much of the changing landscape as possible.

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There are a couple of places where you can get out of your car and have a picnic (“…at your own risk” as the signs constantly warn you).

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As a treat we also stayed overnight in a ‘rustic camp’ in Tambotti on the Timbavati river and at Letaba. Permanently erected tents on stilts with real beds, fans and a fridge.

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Luxury, but only 2x the price of camping and 30% of the cost of the chalets.

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Every camp we’ve stayed at, two things have been constant:

1) Very few people around (often most of the chalets have been unoccupied and there’s been no more than 3-4 of us camping),

2) The ‘jungle’ sounds of wildlife at night and as we sleep – lion roaring; elephant grumbling; hippo grunting; ardwolf baying; monkeys howling; bird song like the brass-section of a band.

It’s become our ‘Safari Tinnitus’ and it’s tremendous.

We’ve also had wildlife in the camp.
Honey Badgers have worked out how to get into the Baboon-proof bins…

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… Bush Babys silently skulk around the car looking for scraps…

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… Monkeys hung around our tented camp scouting for things to steal…

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… and Buck wander out of the shadows like ghosts…

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There’s been little to disturb the peace and the ‘Safari Tinnitus’ – other than 3 Dutch couples that turned up one night in 2 pieces of ‘Tupperware’ (motorhomes) and an overland truck. They arranged themselves into a corral and then, seated around a small table, shouted at each other and partied for hours.

By 10.30 pm (given that anyone else camping is in bed by 9pm and up between 5am and 7am) I’d had enough.

“Please Be Quiet!” I shouted from our tent.
No response, no change in volume.
PLEASE BE QUIET!
That seemed to get their attention. They lowered their voices to their version of a Stage-Whisper and eventually went to bed.

I might have made my point too well though – that night, not a peep from the elephants, hippo, monkeys, birds, etc.
It seems everyone got the message.
Thankfully, the following night the Safari Tinnitus was turned back on again.

The view from The Penthouse at Letaba camp…

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Kruger – First Taste.

The back of the Mercedes 4×4 behind us was a write-off. It had been hit by a truck at about 30mph after the queue of traffic we were in stopped; I stopped; the guy in the Merc behind me stopped; but the guy in the truck behind him didn’t.
It happened in slow motion in my rear-mirror and fortunately there was enough space in front of me so that when the Mercedes bounced forwards into us we weren’t shunted forward into the car ahead of us.
We were in another frustrating contra-flow system on the N4 near Matsulu, heading east to Kruger National Park, and there was no good reason why the truck was travelling so fast. Fortunately our tow-ball saved the Land Rover from any rear damage and just put a big dent in the front of the Merc.
I exchanged emails and phone numbers with the people in the Mercedes (no one was hurt) and left them all to it.
The contra-flow was at least 8km long and therefore so, now, was the queue trying to get past the smashed vehicles that now blocked the single lane road.
After that delay, by the time we got to the Malelane gate at Kruger the guards told us that it was still 100km to our booked campsite at Lower Sabie and we wouldn’t make it in the 3 hours we had left till the camp gates closed just before sunset.
We headed instead for Skukuza camp and I must admit that although the Kruger landscape was beautiful…

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…my grumpy mood at being late, and the fact that the only game we saw in the 60km to Skukuza was two giraffes, didn’t make me overly optimistic about Kruger as a destination.

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Over the next couple of days though we spent a lot of time on the dirt tracks in the triangle between Lower Sabie camp, Skakuza and Crocodile Bridge.

Game spotting in an area that has recently had a lot of rain like Kruger, is quite different to one in an area that had had so little (and yeilded so many great sightings) like Etosha in Namibia.

There is so much water about that the game doesn’t need to use the waterholes.

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Also, the bush is pretty thick, the grass is high and you’re not allowed to drive off of the designated tracks.

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However, the fact that there’s water also means that there are plenty of hippo in the river…

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…although sometimes I wonder whether we’re watching them, or they’re watching us.

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Kruger is a huge area – about the size of Scotland. There is a tar road that essentially runs north / south and a few that run east west to the rest camps. The speed limit is 50kph. Throughout the rest of the park are gravel / sand roads where the speed limit is 40kph and under no circumstances are you allowed off the gravel tracks, or out of your vehicle.

With little traffic around and with the bush so high, at any time you could come across something interesting around any blind corner.

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Or something dangerous…

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In the picture above, some idiot in a Land Cruiser was actually following the elephant about 20m behind it, pushing it towards us and the BMW on a narrow track. We came round the corner (slowly) as the guy in the BMW was backing up. Fortunately we were both able to back up the track for about half a mile before the big bull got off the track. The idiot behind him was oblivious to the fact that he was actually driving the elephant on and antagonising it.

Not all sightings are quite so close up. Helene spotted this White Rhino with a huge horn some distance away from the side of the track and we decided to watch it for a while.

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It was only after about an hour or so that we were able to piece together that there were actually 5 of them together- although we could never get a shot of them all properly…

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Over the 3-hour period we watched, a couple of cars stopped to ask what we were looking at in the distance. When they found out it wasn’t lions, they moved on. It’s very rare to see rhino in a social group (other than perhaps at night), particularly such mature animals, larking about together. What’s up with some of these people – they’d be better off at a zoo?

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Another advantage of the high, dense bush (and some of the overcast skies we’ve had) is that there is quite a lot of birdlife around. At first it wasn’t really of much interest, but Helene met up with an elderly South African couple who spent a couple of hours identifying some from the pictures we took. Now we’re a bit hooked (although I haven’t bought an anorak yet).
The Lilac Breasted Roller…

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The Bateleur – about 2 feet (600mm) tall…

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A Snake Eagle…

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A pair of Bee Eaters…

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You really do have to keep your wits about you in such difficult landscape to spot game. However, the advantage of starting to look out for interesting birds is that we spotted my personal Game Holy Grail.
It would have been so easy to miss it as we drove along…

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A leopard asleep in a tree. Actually, spread-eagled rather than just asleep.

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Not a care in the world…

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Once again, over an hour or so of watching, a number of other people arrived.
One quick photo (“hey Honey, I ticked another box in the book – lets go…“).
Only one other chap and ourselves sat and watched for any length of time.
Once again we were rewarded when the beautiful cat woke…

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From asleep to menacingly alert in no time at all.

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What a great (but blistering hot) way to spend an afternoon.

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Given how game can come out of the bush from any direction and how strict the safety regulations are about not getting out of your car, hanging out the window or standing through the sunroof, we were a bit surprised to see this ranger out alone on one of the remote tracks.

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That gun may be old, but I guess it beats a catapult.

Blood River Zulu Battle

Heading east from Golden Gate Highlands we passed through an area of many towns with Scottish names – Glencoe, Dundee, Kinross, Aberdeen.
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I’m not sure of the origin, but there is certainly a similarity in the landscape (and the weather – more rain). Still, very beautiful.

Early afternoon although the weather was gloomy and we had a long way still to go, we decided to make a 30km detour east of Dundee to the Voortrekkers Memorial that we had seen in a guide book whilst in The Drakensberg.

The Voortrekkers were a group of settlers and volunteer military types who left the British governed Cape Colony and were looking to settle in eastern South Africa – KwaZulu Natal – in the 1830’s. They had been granted a huge area of land by Zulu King Dingane at the time, but claimed that a peace treaty had been broken by the Zulu and set out to confront them (Zulu opinions take a slightly different point of view, even today).

On 16th December 1838 the 464 Voortrekkers came across the 12,000 – strong Zulu army on the banks of the Ncome River. They formed their 64 wagons into a D-shaped Lager (the straight part of the D against the shallow banks of the Ncome River) and erected wicket barricades.
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The Voortrekkers’ placed their three small canon at strategic openings in the Lager and battle commenced early in the morning: the Zulus attacking in their traditional Impi formation of a horned bull – younger warriors in the red, left ‘horn’, looking to prove their bravery; more tested warriors in the right, white ‘horn’; the most seasoned warriors in the head and body of the bull.

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The battle involved many attacks over approximately 4-5 hours, by the end of which 3 Voortrekkers were wounded and over 3,000 Zulu had been killed – many of them in their attempts to cross the river, hence the name Blood River..

The monument was erected in 1971 as a replica of the original Lager. Each full-size wagon is identical and made of cast iron, coated in bronze and placed on concrete plinths.

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The simple stone pile in the centre of the Lager is the oldest commemorative monument on the site and was erected in 1866 (28 years after the battle) when 40-50 wagons gathered at the spot to commemorate the event. In the spirit of renewed cooperation a number of the original Voortrekkers and original Zulu warriors were present at the simple stone-piling ceremony.

There is an excellent small visitor centre with an excellent Audio Visual presentation of the history and the monument managers (Dons and his wife Eurika) made the few hours we spent there most interesting. We had the monument and the surrounding plains to ourselves – which only heightened its fascinating and moving atmosphere.

Ignoring the main road in and out of the monument region, we drove through many traditionally built Zulu villages. Probably just as poor as many of the corrugated-tin Townships we’ve seen, but generally filled with children and adults who will run to the road to wave and smile as we pass.

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The next couple of days were spent travelling from Vryheid via Paulpetersburg, Piet Retief, Amsterdam and Badplaas to Baberton and then Nelspruit in search of some more assistance with the car.

Over 250km of this 400km route was filled with forest plantations on either side as the road as far as the eye could see. Any area not covered in planted timber had either recently been harvested, or recently re-planted.

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I’m concerned that the fridge is draining the auxiliary battery too quickly and our roof-top solar panel may not be man-enough to keep it topped up when we’re camped for a couple of days consecutively.

In Nelspruit (a much larger town than we expected) we went to 3 different specialists who each tried to sell us bigger batteries that would last longer. Only the guys at ‘4×4 Megaworld’ actually measured the input and output of the solar panel, the fridge and the auxiliary battery – even taking the battery away to be tested by a specialist – concluding that they should all be adequate for the job but the solar panel is probably being too obscured by the roofrack (reducing it’s efficiency).

All of that took a couple of days (you can’t properly test a solar panel if it’s peeing down with rain – for a change). So, between running around all the garages / 4×4 centres, we found a cracking little cafe…

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… that had a hair salon attached where Helene took the opportunity to get her hair done (2nd time since we left home!)

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The solar panel will have to wait (actually be added to my growing list of works that I hope to have done when we get to Foley’s in Zambia) as we’re booked for camping in Kruger National park in 24 hours.

Drakensberg – Dragon Mountains

Absolute bloody lunatic drivers on the big inland loop road from Port St John to Port Edward! Lovely countryside, but we couldn’t see much of it most of the time due to heavy fog and rain.
That doesn’t stop the mini-bus and truck drivers from overtaking uphill, on a blind bend, on a single track road.
At one point a dog ran out in front of us. I could only touch my brakes lightly as there was a minibus hard on our rear bumper and a truck overtaking both of us. The dog ran past our front wheels and the truck sailed right over the top of it – with the mutt passing unmarked between it’s axels. How our 3 vehicles didn’t end up off the road I’ll never know.
The rest of the drive along the coast road from Ilovo and then on to Durban was pretty uneventful and all the towns are pretty touristy (serving the Durbanites who evacuate the City during the summer months).
The weather was grizzly for a couple of days all along the route and then also heading north on the N3 from Durban – the scenery consists of miles of beach resort towns and undulating sugar-cane plantations.
About 300km north of Durban as we got onto the R73 to Winterton and then Bergville, the weather got worse but the scenery got better.

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However, we’ve been looking forward to going into The Drakensberg Mountains for months, so a spot of bad weather was not going to put us off.
With peaks at about 3,200m The Drakensberg are in Kwazulu-Natal and essentially form the eastern border with the country of Lesotho – itself totally surrounded by South Africa.
As we camped at 2,100m in Hlalanathi, about 10km west after crossing the Olivershoek Pass. As we arrived in the rain, I thought it was beautiful – but not dissimilar to much of Wales or Scotland. I couldn’t really see why it’s designated as a World Heritage Site though?
This was the view of the mountains and the Tugela river from The Penthouse that afternoon, as an almighty storm approached us.

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The next morning all (literary) became clear. At sunrise this was the same view from The Penthouse.

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Stunning.
The mountain range we saw in the photo of the previous evening was dwarfed by The Drakensburg ‘proper‘.
In the centre, the Mont-aux-Sources ‘Amphitheatre‘. At about 3,100m high, a 4km curve of granite and basalt. To the right, The Sentinel peak.

We spent three days wallowing in the view and the beautiful countryside – mind you, 50% of the time we couldn’t see anything due to the incredible storms that hit us at least once a day.
One evening, at the peak of a 5-hour storm, lightening flashed orange or blue or silver (sometimes all three) every 5-10 seconds for over an hour: it bounced 360 degrees around us in forks sometimes so wide they were more like ribbons striking the ground: almost every strike was 3-5 ‘pulses’ rather than a single strike.
At one point a huge orange fire-ball hit the hillside opposite us – after hanging in the air about 70m off the ground for 5-6 seconds, then striking the hillside and sending up a plume of smoke about 100m high!
Marvellous.
We love storms, but we’re starting to feel that we may be ‘Storm-Chased’ rather than ‘Storm-Chasers’.
After the third storm however we did get to witness a rare event. A waterfall from the very top of the main escarpment. We couldn’t really photograph it properly through the mist and rain (plus it was about 14km away from our camp) but it’s fall is in excess of 1km and it’s relative width shows the huge volume of water involved.

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Only a few hours later it was gone, and people began to get on about their chores again.

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From Hlananathi we took the scenic R74 north, through an area called Little Switzerland toward Harrismith, then west on the R712 around the Mkukwini Dam and Phuthaditjhaba. Very attractive, lowland countryside.

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Still in Kwazulu-Natal we camped at the northern boundary of The Drakensberg and Lesotho in Golden Gate Highlands National Park, about 20km east of Clarens – essentially directly opposite where we had been before, the other side of ‘The Sentinel
Perhaps not quite so mountainous, but equally beautiful, this was our view from The Penthouse for 4 days in the area…

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The area is surrounded by the Maluti Mountains – wonderfully green and lush (I guess that may be due to the frequent storms)…

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…and the little dams that litter the hillsides were all looking very healthy…

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The scenery in all directions really is quite special and there are very few people about.

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Local Basutho Zulu villages are thatched rondavels,

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Some of the more upmarket structures are traditionally painted…

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…and the traditional communal areas have pretty impressive kitchen set-ups.

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Once again, while camping we have met some really nice people… John and Ada from the Isle of Man who are touring for a couple of months, Colin & Coleen who helped us in a storm when we couldn’t get any electrics to work and, in particular Marie & Dup (DuPlesis) who seemed to think I needed feeding up and kept us supplied with watermelon, mango and home made cinnamon biscuits.

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They have a camper unlike anything I’ve seen before., called an AHA (they hate the name, but love the camper!). Most ‘Bakkie’ (pick-up) based campers have a rooftent mounted on top of the hard-shell. Marie & Dup’s actually folds out from it so that they can sleep inside but also stand / sit inside when the weather is poor.

The rigid roof and one side of the Bakkie folds out at 45 degrees to the body…

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The hard shell of the tent folds out as a concertina…

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The second side of the Bakkie folds out and the inner panels form a peak…

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…the tent fabric that forms each end of the camper fold down from zipped pockets…

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…and the ‘kitchen’ slides out from beneath the beds, either side of the back door.

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Really neat.
Really nice people.
Best of all though – Marie is sending me her biscuit and a bread recipe when she gets home.

Sheer Bliss – A Bath

We left Addo for Graaf Reinet about 350km inland – the first 50 being along the Sundays River valley which is swathed in huge Orange and lemon plantations.
Odd that everyone says don’t go near elephants with citrus since they’ll break down your car doors to get to it – yet a couple of kilometres away is one of the biggest growing regions in Southern Africa.

After the lushness (and freshness in the air) of Sundays River valley, the rest of the trip was pretty dull, broad scrubland plains, with little variation in the landscape and very little population. Apparently this is ‘The Mohair Route’ ie nothing but goat farms.

At the end of the day we reached Graaf Reinet, a historic, Colonial German-founded town amongst rolling hills. Quite a pleasant place to spend the night, with a number of buildings dating back to the early 20th Century – that in itself makes it stand out in South Africa, since most of the country’s towns seem to have little that dates before the 1950’s / 60’s.

Once again the area is sparsely populated – nothing other than a couple of one-horse villages within a 150km radius of Graaf Reinet itself. The highlight for us though was a protected area just outside town called Desolation Valley.

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Set into the flat, wide valley are a couple of dramatic volcanic plugs…

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…and at the end of the valley a series of wind-eroded basalt stacks on the very edge of a 300m drop into a canyon filled with sub-tropical vegetation.

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We could probably have stayed in Graaf Reinet a few days, but didn’t. It’s a nice town to walk around and there are many old-fashioned cafes, antique shops, craft shops etc, but that feels too much like being ‘on holiday’ and I want to avoid that feeling as much as possible.

We left the next morning and drove pretty much directly east, taking the R63 along yet more endless rolling plains of cactus-strewn scrubland to a small mountain village called Hogsback (named after the three ridges that dominate the skyline).

It’s pretty remote out here, but even in the back-tracks of farmland and forest, wherever you stop for a picnic lunch you’re always found by someone appearing out of nowhere to sell a carved elephant, hippo or, in this case ‘Hog’.

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It’s (locally) believed that the valley of Hogsback was the inspiration for The Hobbit, after Tolkien lived close to here for a period. Add in a couple of ancient stone-circles and consequently the small village of ramshackle, character properties has become like a down-sized Glastonbury – dripping with hippies, psychic-reading chalets, walking labyrinths, crystal massages and opportunities to get in touch with your Guardian Angel. Great fun.

We camped at a local backpackers, ‘Away with The Fairies’ at the end of one of the forest lanes.

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It was built 16 years ago by Dan & Monique, who give the place real character and made us feel really welcome.
At 1200m up, it has one of the best views of the 1900m Hogs Back plateau, a really good atmosphere, good food & cheap drinks in The Wizard’s Sleeve bar, excellent coffee, good music, a real mix of ‘character’ guests and a roaring fire every evening.

They also have a bath with a view.

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Fed by a donkey-boiler that provides piping hot water.
We haven’t seen a bath for months.
Propped up on the edge of a 200m cliff – Sheer bliss.

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That night we camped with tree-frogs chirruping and monkeys howling in the trees around us. Once more, we were disappointed to leave but were keen to head down to the Wild Coast’ south of Durban to see a little more of the Indian Ocean.

The drive through the farmlands east of Hogsback was beautiful for the first 100 kilometres. Quite a lot like central / northern England.

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After the first 100km east to Alice, it turned into a real slog to the coast. About 300km of undulating hills and the occasional villages / townships that, for some reason, I found depressing.

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I don’t know why – we’ve seen may townships and most of them seem to have a lot of life about them. We’ve also seen lots of rural communities and, although poor, most appeared to have something going on – either local farms / vineyards for people to work at; towns to travel to for work; or even just local allotments / vegetable gardens around the housing so that people could support themselves and trade crops with their neighbours. For about 200km though, despite the homes / huts looking more affluent than in many areas we’ve been, most of the communities we saw seemed to have no energy, no spirit, nothing positive about them. It didn’t look like any effort was being made. I think that’s what I found depressing.

I felt quite a relief as we got out of the plains and closer to the coast. Maybe it was that the 400km had taken us nearly 7 1/2 hours, maybe it was the heat, maybe the unending ‘sameness’ of communities we passed – it had seemed like a grueling day.

Within 50km of the coast the landscape changed again. Beautiful valleys, bustling little villages, streams of children in immaculate school uniforms walkings miles back to their township homes. Suddenly there was some life about the place again. Things were looking up.

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We arrived at Port St John, a typical S African village – bustling tatty-looking shops, a street market, loud music, traffic chaos, sheep for sale at the roadside in 3 metre square pens, dozens of mini-busses clogging the streets picking up fares (or at least stopped at random, double parked until enough people got on to warrant them leaving).

Lively and entertaining.

We’d heard from Dan & Monique that Amapondo Backpackers had a great location about 3km out of town at 2nd Beach and arrived looking for camping. They had it (in a garden behind the bar) but it was only suitable for tents – nothing for rooftents.

We weren’t too concerned and said we’d camp at a flat spot we’d seen in the ‘car park’ ie the track up to the bar.

Our Indian Ocean view from The Penthouse for the next couple of days (not bad for a car park).

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Another Hippy Joint with a good atmosphere: bongo drums, people making bags out of leather patches, good music, good food, Rastas, weed, hammocks, monkeys in the trees, a lively group of people (although one or two seemed to be designer-hippies, who got out of shiny hire cars with Samsonite luggage, dressed like Shaggy from Scooby Doo) and… a resident donkey in the bar.

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Much Addo About…

…Elephants.

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That’s what Addo National Park is all about.
Its made up of over 180,000 hectares across five different biomes: Forest, Albany Thicket, Fynbos, Nama Karoo and Indian Ocean Coastal Belt (including some huge dunes).

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The high scrub / Thicket makes spotting game tricky in some places,

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but over 4-5 days we saw Red Hartebeest (those are the dunes, not snow in the background)….

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…many Warthogs (most of whom had young with them)…

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…Zebra (also with foals)…

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…an occasional Buffalo…

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…Blue Cranes, waterbirds & Terrapins…

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…and even a mouse…

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Mind you, he was keeping his head down, due to the variety of raptors that are around.

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We even saw lion (here they have the same dark manes as those in The Kalahari)

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This one proved to be another ‘Marilyn’ and spent most of her time in the appropriate position…

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But, despite the huge size of the park, one thing you are pretty much guaranteed to see are elephants.
We were fortune to see them all shapes and sizes…

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We were also doubly fortune one day to come across 70-80 of them at the same time at a waterhole.
Drinking…

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…grazing…

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…applying sunscreen…

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…nursing…

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…messing about in the water…

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…jousting…

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…mating…

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…swimming…

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…and generally larking about (much to the disgust of the warthogs who they chased off every time they tried to come down for a drink).

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For the four and a half hours that we sat there engrossed though, it was the youngsters that were the star of the show.

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There’s little more cute than watching them trot as they try to keep up with mum…

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…or watching the older kids laze about trying to look cool.

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Oddly though, if you to ask a zoologist what’s so special about Addo Park, they’d probably tell you it’s the very rare Flightless Dung Beetle.

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They’d probably tell you that the elephants are there just to provide the raw materials required to keep the beetle from becoming extinct. From watching them for many hours I can assure you they certainly produce enough to sustain the local beetle population.

Tsitsikamma

New Year was spent in the Wilderness.
Not wandering around, dazed and confused in some ethereal, mystic dream-like state, trying to ‘find ourselves‘. Wilderness is a small coastal town on the Garden Route with a pleasant, quiet campsite on the Touw river about 3 miles inland from a coastline of beautiful dunes and golden sandy beaches.

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A bottle of Bollinger and sweet-chilli prawns on the Braai.
Not what we’re used to but, if you’re going to be away from home for New Year you could do a lot worse.
I’m glad we chose the Lang Elsies River Camp. Every other campsite we saw was full to bursting again with holidaying families who had brought everything with them except the front door and had basically set up middle-class versions of the poor ‘Townships’ (shanty-towns) found outside most towns in South Africa.
The surrounding area is lovely though: a necklace of coastal lagoons, sandy dunes, heavily wooded valleys, rolling wheat fields and vineyards.
Like ‘The Sound of Music‘ meets ‘The Beach Boys‘.

After a couple of very relaxing days (‘relaxing‘ means downright lazy in this instance) we headed east along the coastal section of The Garden Route.
Knysna made a nice stopping point for breakfast / brunch. It’s a marina town set on a 5-mile diameter bay, making an attractive, calm, sheltered harbour with only a narrow outlet to the sea. It has a Monterey / Cape Cod feel to it.

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Snoek (fish) & Chips for breakfast.
Marvellous.

As we entered the Tsitsikamma region of the coast we crossed a number of impressive bridges over the numerous gorges that run down to the coast from the surrounding mountain ranges.

As it turned out, the one we stopped to photograph was the Bloukrans Bridge – the biggest single-span bridge in Africa.

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….and also the site of the world’s highest bridge-based bungee jump (according to the Guinness World Record’s Certificate they have).

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No, of course that’s not me – can you imagine what my momentum would do to an elastic cord accelerating towards a finite point?

The Tsitsikamma region is a massive inland, coastal and marine National Park. We camped at Storms River Mouth, another of the South Africa National Parks (SAN Parks) network.

A beautiful site on the edge of a rugged coastline surrounded by indigenous semi-tropical forest.

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The coastline has a number of mountain / gorge walks and a couple of lovely small, sheltered beach areas…

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…but the real magic to my mind are the rock formations between the Indian Ocean and the camping pitches.

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The rock strata of granite, slate, mica, quartz and conglomerate were laid down horizontally but, over millions of years, have been forced vertical to stand upright like a filo pastry on it’s end. The alternate strata are a multitude of colours.

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They create some fascinating rock pools.

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The whole place is lovely when the sun shines (which it has done about half the time we have been here) but even more facinating when the weather is rough (which it has been the other half of the time we’re here).
The view from the Penthouse…

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Those vertical rock strata (and the subsequent troughs they create) mean that even when the sea is calm 500 metres off the coast, the waves break against the coastline with tremendous force.
Plumes of water are sent like fireworks going off up 20-30 meters into the air when the wave fronts hit the rock faces.
But maybe it’s the noise that’s actually the most hypnotising…..prap (as the wave breaks with a snap)….waahuumpp (as it strikes the ridges)… then a thud (like dropping a heavy book on a stone floor) as it crashes back down on itself.
The people in the foreground here give some scale to the waves.

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This goes on day and night and in some pools the waves break with such force that they create a permanent foam (like someone has poured washing-up liquid into a jacuzzi).

We’ve had a great five days at Tsitsikamma (including blazing sunshine and superb lightening / rainstorms) and met some really nice people – like Carl and his family who had a chat with us about a drive they did north to Ethiopia some years ago: then wrote out 2 pages of notes & tips for us).
In particular, Theresa, Dale, Caitlin & Aiden – whose environmentally conscious business is trying to prevent South Africa from using so much plastic). They saved our braai food from the thieving seagulls, gave us loads of tips about the SAN Parks that we’re heading to, used their phone data to find out how we could get mobile data locally, and thought it highly amusing that only a Brit would persevere with a braai in a lightening and rainstorm.

Once again, disappointed to leave, but we’re heading further east (the same direction the storms have come from) towards Addo Elephant National Park for the next 5 days or so.