Park-hopping

It was time for a little bit of leisure again. After all, Cape Town happened almost more than a month ago and I’ve been working hard on the field and in the office ever since. I was lucky – a South African friend of mine was on her days off so we teamed up. The deal was the following: she brings a car and a tent, I bring my pleasurable presence and freshly baked muffins. Swell.

First stop was Mkhuze reserve. We knew a bunch of people there that generously invited us to stay with them. Their hospitality was comfortable – camping in their backyard, boiling tea water in their kettles, brushing teeth in their sinks. As a thank you for their kindness, we fixed dinner. Sounded promising – take away pizzas from a highway pub, named The Baobab Inn. Or at least it said “pizza” on the menu.

(a cold plastic thing, united with the cardboard box)

Though, for the people that have lived in the bush for a while, even the worst pizza feels like Christmas. I have to admit, after a warm-up on the braai which added smoky flavour to the plastic cheese and having a couple of drinks, the food was actually acceptable. Such a pleasant dinner was apparently highly inspirational. Someone suddenly decided it’s a perfect night for clubbing! Of course, everyone else thought it was a brilliant idea – didn’t matter we were sitting by the fire in the middle of a nature reserve, surrounded only by acacias and giraffes, with closest village being about an hour drive away. It had to happen. So with the windows down and music volume up, singing and dancing to the latest hits from the East Coast Radio and almost hitting a passing leopard, we drove out to the local cricket club.

Which was closed.

Shock and disappointment that followed killed our party mood and by the time we reached the park gate everyone was asleep which meant the night was officially finished.

Three hours later, sun got up and off we went to explore the reserve. We walked a 18km long transect in the wilderness, counting all the impala, gnu, rhino, lion, giraffe and other animals in our sight. It was a part of the annual game count in the park, estimating species population sizes. Observing the wildlife on foot, noticing all the details, tracks and minerals in the changing landscape of open savannah and closed bushveld allowed experiencing Mkhuze in a most unique way. Feeling it could not get better than that, my friend and I decided to move on.

Walking was a priority and we choose False Bay as our next destination, a reserve with no dangerous game and with an odd name. Especially because there is a pretty, natural, real bay stretching over the whole eastern part of the park. I loved that place, it was a mixture of Sweden and Mediterranean. Not the leopard tracks and scat, or the black mamba watching from the shore and all the red duikers hopping on the forest litter. But the vegetation, the smell and the landscape. Felt like home.

We liked it so much we had to return the following day, and we persuaded another friend to join. After 16 km of forest trail, we put down a picnic at the lake and took a series of selfies. Good times.