Visiting a luxury private game reserve, Jenny Southan comes face to face with life and death in the South African bush
I must confess, I am nervous. Really nervous. I am sitting no more than two metres from a lioness tearing at the flesh of a dead antelope. The jeep we are in is open – no glass or metal to separate us – and for a moment she stops what she is doing to stare at me.
The sound of her gnawing through skin is like scissors cutting through thick card, and every now and then I hear the crunch of bone. On safari, aside from witnessing the kill itself, seeing a big cat feeding is the Holy Grail.
The hunt started at sunrise. We set out with our guide, Themba, and tracker, Nhlanhla, who sits in a special seat on the bonnet of the Land Rover so he can spot paw marks in the road.
On some game drives, you are lucky to see anything, so the sight of a mother and her cub walking along the side of the track is a thrill. (I’m told not to stand or make loud exclamations that will alert animals to the fact we are human – the vehicle isn’t something they react to.)
We follow them all the way down to the watering hole, where we see the impressive shape of a male lion waiting for them. Together, the three of them hunch down and drink.
They then lead us back to where the rest of the pride are hiding, and we go off-road, crushing bushes, weaving through long grass, to where we find them feasting on their prey. The other cubs lie sleeping in a copse, their bellies visibly full.
Thanda is a special kind of nature reserve. Located in KwaZulu-Natal, just over three hours’ drive from Durban (making it a feasible extension to a business trip), it not only offers the chance to see the Big Five – buffalo, leopard, rhino, lion and elephant – but to do so with knowledgeable local guides who specialise in seeking out encounters you wouldn’t have on self-drive safaris.
You are also safer, as the rangers can read the beasts’ behaviour, and know when to retreat.
Covering 14,000 hectares, the land was bought in 2000 by Swedish entrepreneur Dan Olofsson, who joined together four farms, then erected a 900-volt electrified fence and began introducing wild animals to replace the livestock.
Four years later, it opened with a five-suite villa for exclusive hire, a camp with 15 luxurious tents, and nine 220 sqm lodges. Each of these has a four-poster bed, deep plunge pool, outdoor shower, terrace on stilts and sandy-floored boma (a traditional circular enclosure of tree trunks) for dinners by an open fire under the stars.
Apart from guests and staff (these include armed guards who try to keep out poachers), you won’t come across anyone else for miles around, and the accommodation areas are some distance apart so feel remote.
Perhaps disconcertingly, there is nothing to protect you from any animals that might decide to venture in – one night, at dinner, we see a hyena prowling about. After dark, you have to be escorted back to your room by torchlight, but staff never carry weapons so you’re at the mercy of the wild.
A typical day at Thanda begins with a 4.30am wake-up call (or knock if you are in a tent with no electricity). Three-hour game drives are at 5am and 4.30pm.
Upon your return, a sumptuous breakfast buffet is laid out in the open air; in the evening, it’s an à la carte dinner of ostrich, kudu and springbok. The days are yours to do as you wish, whether reading, playing board games or visiting the spa.
Curious to learn more about traditional culture, I book Thanda’s “In the footsteps of the Zulus” excursion, which arranges introductions to families in nearby villages. The region is home to about eight million amaZulu (meaning “people of heaven”), and surrounding Thanda are three villages spread across green hills dotted with homesteads and humble farms.
Zacks, our guide from the resort, says: “Our goal is to take guests to 150 different families a year – Hector chooses who they are and works with local leaders to set up visits.”
Hector, who is wearing a Zulu fur headband to show he is married, first takes us to a supermarket to buy some toys and sweets for the children, then drives to the rural community of Mdletshe, some distance away.
When we pull off the road towards a cluster of huts, we are greeted with the sound of rhythmic clapping and singing – the women have come out in fur skirts to perform a welcome dance. This family is made up of a grandmother, her son, his four wives (each of whom has her own home) and their 15 offspring.
They teach us to say sawubona (good morning) and unjani (how are you?), and to give a Zulu handshake. We sit on hides laid out on the dust and ask each other questions, with Hector translating.
On the farm, they keep goats, cows and chickens, which peck around inside a circular kraal – an ancient defensive structure. Before leaving, we dole out the gifts to whoops of joy, and are encouraged to join in with the farewell dance.
Back at the reserve, we prepare for the evening game drive, counting which animals we have yet to see.
Only the cheetah and notoriously elusive leopard remain on our list – in a couple of days, we’ve sat among a herd of 19 elephants as they tear at foliage with their trunks; spotted a warthog and her three piglets bounce along in front of us; observed “towers” of giraffe (the collective noun for a group of Earth’s tallest terrestrial animals); and been surrounded by bad-tempered buffalo – the most dangerous of the Big Five because of their unpredictable nature.
We have also managed to spot a pair of endangered black rhinos in the savannah – usually hard to find as they are nervous and shy. (No surprise when you consider their horns can fetch US$65,000 per kilo on the black market. “We have lost four rhinos to poaching in the past two years,” Themba says.)
This time, we have been driving for about half an hour without seeing so much as a butterfly, when we receive a radio alert from a jeep that has come across two cheetahs. As the sun sinks, we arrive back at the watering hole, where, under the shadow of a tree, two male cats lounge – one looking east, the other west.
“Cheetahs don’t do very well in the wild as other predators kill them,” Themba tells us. “That is why they are keeping a look out.”
We sit quietly with them for about 45 minutes as they roll around in the scrub. With their dappled fur and soulful amber eyes, they look harmless enough to stroke.
Departing, we head to the summit of a mountain ridge to park for sunset. Clambering up to the highest rocks, we can see a vast plateau stretching all the way to Swaziland on the horizon.
Nhlanhla hands out G&Ts and we sit chatting as the heavens above gradually reveal the Milky Way. “The pale yellow moon shone in his eyes; his path was marked by the stars in the Southern Hemisphere; and he walked his days under African skies,” echoes Paul Simon’s famous song.
We will save the leopard until next time.
HOW TO GET THERE
- South African Airways flies 14 times a week from London to Johannesburg with 13 daily connections to Durban. flysaa.com
- Aqua Tours and Transfers can provide transport. It takes about three hours by road to travel from Durban to Thanda. aquatours.co.za
- A Thanda Safari Lodge starts from R6,250 (£341) per person; Tented Camp from R3,550 (£194) per person. Rates include two game drives per day, plus drinks and meals. Visiting a local Zulu village organised by Thanda costs R1,375 (£75). thanda.com
