I tell them all ‘I’m off’, for nature calls. I slowly run a small distance from the camp site kicking dust as I speed, trampling twigs along the way. The crack of the dry brush echo loud, reverberating. The silence is deathly, but the environment is very much alive. My disruptive footprints, erasing any trace of beast that went before me, are embedded in the dry of the parched earth. One small step for man...Behind a tree far from anyone, I choose my place. Carefully, I scan my surrounds. With our shoddy human eyesight and our marshmallow-stuffed-in-ear hearing that human-kind have been gifted, I do my best to observe, to be aware. I see a kudu in the distance, but it scuttles on before it even sees me. Doing a final scan of the immediate shrubbery for any movement, I clutch the spade and begin digging a hole. The unzipping of the teeth of my trousers is clear, and the ruffle of my pants as they drop to my ankles is crisp. My shoes, I take off and eventually my trousers too. I’m totally exposed. I squat. My knees cracking. I am at my most vulnerable now to the teeth of a lion. I have a giggle to myself. If I could only see me.
We’re in The Kruger National Park, on a 4 day hike out of our place and in the kingdom of beasts.
The Toyota Landcruiser with its nobbly tyres and kangaroo-like suspension dropped us out of sight of any humans, any hint of civilisation.
We humans are a destructive force. By our ablutions and our clumsy foot fall, by our packaged treats we leave a trail of our presence.
By day we walked in silence in single file in hope of a sight of one of the Kruger’s inhabitants. Only the ruffle of our bags, or the distinctive shrill call of the fish eagle are the sounds of other. We hug the Oliphants River following in its sweeping, gently gushing, lively path as it snakes downwards. Every so often we see the death that drought brings-the largesse of an hippo slumped on the river’s banks exposed to the swirl of vultures above.
The hot sun begins its plummet. We settle upon the bank of the river and begin pitching our new age Space –worthy tents. Our four colourful tents bruise the earthy colours representing the landscape. Taking the cool plunge into the clear running water of the river we rinse the caked sweat off of our bodies, and the salted residue off of our lips. The sun has dipped beyond the earth’s edge, and the cold of night sweeps the landscape announcing its arrival. The moon replaces the golden cut-out left by the plummeting sun. The moon in its full glow hints at its creaky surface. The sequened night is ball-gown beautiful. Darkness has arrived. Only the light of the bulbously full-moon gives us any sight, until we don our light-sabering night-piercing headlamps.
Our live-wire fire is an island of heat - it’s our water cooler for conversation. We chat and nibble biltong, sip a whisky and then call it a night...until our ranger spots a pride eyeing us out. The excitement drags us by our scruffs and we ogle them as they size us. We feel alive.
To rise at first light. To see the moon over in the western sky and to witness the sun break over the mountainous edge is a wonderment. Slowly like a ghostly death the cold air rushes away as the giant sun presents itself, presenting the hint of a new day. The earliest up ignite the gas burner. On the bubbly boil we stir up our instant and dip our ouma.
We rise, the Kingdom rises. A new day has dawned in the Kingdom of Beasts.
We’re in The Kruger National Park, on a 4 day hike out of our place and in the kingdom of beasts.
The Toyota Landcruiser with its nobbly tyres and kangaroo-like suspension dropped us out of sight of any humans, any hint of civilisation.
We humans are a destructive force. By our ablutions and our clumsy foot fall, by our packaged treats we leave a trail of our presence.
By day we walked in silence in single file in hope of a sight of one of the Kruger’s inhabitants. Only the ruffle of our bags, or the distinctive shrill call of the fish eagle are the sounds of other. We hug the Oliphants River following in its sweeping, gently gushing, lively path as it snakes downwards. Every so often we see the death that drought brings-the largesse of an hippo slumped on the river’s banks exposed to the swirl of vultures above.
The hot sun begins its plummet. We settle upon the bank of the river and begin pitching our new age Space –worthy tents. Our four colourful tents bruise the earthy colours representing the landscape. Taking the cool plunge into the clear running water of the river we rinse the caked sweat off of our bodies, and the salted residue off of our lips. The sun has dipped beyond the earth’s edge, and the cold of night sweeps the landscape announcing its arrival. The moon replaces the golden cut-out left by the plummeting sun. The moon in its full glow hints at its creaky surface. The sequened night is ball-gown beautiful. Darkness has arrived. Only the light of the bulbously full-moon gives us any sight, until we don our light-sabering night-piercing headlamps.
Our live-wire fire is an island of heat - it’s our water cooler for conversation. We chat and nibble biltong, sip a whisky and then call it a night...until our ranger spots a pride eyeing us out. The excitement drags us by our scruffs and we ogle them as they size us. We feel alive.
To rise at first light. To see the moon over in the western sky and to witness the sun break over the mountainous edge is a wonderment. Slowly like a ghostly death the cold air rushes away as the giant sun presents itself, presenting the hint of a new day. The earliest up ignite the gas burner. On the bubbly boil we stir up our instant and dip our ouma.
We rise, the Kingdom rises. A new day has dawned in the Kingdom of Beasts.
