Up in the northwest of Botswana a magnificent river enters the country. Called the Cubango in Angola, the Kavango in Namibia and the Okavango in Botswana, it’s in the top twelve longest and biggest rivers in Africa. Unusual in that it doesn’t reach the sea. Instead, it discharges into the Kalahari Desert and forms the famous Okavango Delta. I have been into that stunning Delta on numerous occasions, but I had never visited “the panhandle.” Till now.
Swamp Stop is a well-known camp which bills itself as the gateway to the Okavango Delta. It’s up in NW Botswana near Sepupa village, about 50km south of the Namibian border.
The camp has been around since Bobby Wilmot’s days and they know exactly what is needed. They have friendly people, a long shady bar, a lovely deck overlooking the channel, a restaurant providing good grub, two cool pools, chairs and tables under cover and under the trees, and accommodation ranging from comfy chalets to great campsites. And much more, I’m sure. Boats for hire to get into the Delta, for instance.
Drotsky’s Cabins is another well-known stop a bit further north near the bigger town of Shakawe. The campsites are splendid. Huge trees and lots of birds and animals on the riverbank. Including a very horny donkey Jack complaining loudly – and for hours! – that the Jenny of his desires was being mean to him. Meantime, she was just ignoring his bleating horniness.
Bev said Hop In! so Janet and I hopped into her Prado automatic and glided off smoothly NE to Khwai village, on the border of Botswana’s Moremi Game Reserve. A much smoother ride than my old bakkie, was Bev’s Prado. We were working – we were going to check out a bridge on the river Kwai – I mean a lodge on the river Khwai called The Termite Mound Guest House. “We” meaning Bev – Janet and I were just backup crew. Happy nogschleppers.
We loved the cleverly designed lodge. Two big metal ship containers form the lower outer walls. One is the kitchen and pantry, one is an en-suite bedroom. Impressive Zanzibari doors lead into the lovely open space between them; ideal for dining and lounging al fresco. All the other walls are canvas; the roof is tin with skylights, raised up high on impressive gumpoles. Above the containers, two en-suite bedrooms with their own verandas and wonderful views. Solar power heats the water and powers the batteries that run lights and fridge. Comfortably ‘off the grid.’
Bev is an experienced and accomplished guide who knows the area well, so we drove all along the Khwai and into the fringes of Chobe Game Reserve with her telling us about the various places to stay and camp. The waters of the Okavango spilling into the Kalahari bring life abundant and I remarked in awe as we sat at one lagoon, ‘It’s like an aviary!’ Here’s a partial list I recorded: Great white Egret; Rufous-bellied Heron; Little Egret; Reed Cormorant; Darter; Black Crake; Striated Heron; Black-crowned Night Heron; White-faced Duck; Egyptian Goose; Lilac-breasted Roller; African Fish eagle; African Jacana; and some Lechwe antelope were hanging about.
When we left for home we headed into Moremi Game Reserve, crossing a bridge on the river Khwai:
Good rain had fallen, making some roads tricky, but Bev waded through with panache. We had lunch overlooking a pan. On the way out I said. ‘I’d love to see an Arnot’s Chat again,’ and Bev said ‘There’s one!’ I got a pic – will add it when I find it (done below). Meantime, talking of lunch, here’s a leopard eating an impala, crocs eating a hippo and lions chilling, probly after dinner:
Driving Mahonie (mahogony) Loop north of Punda Maria camp in June 2022, I heard parrots shrieking. Big old trees abound, including Mkuhlas – the Natal Mahogony. Scanning the trees I spotted them. Hey, they’re bigger! Those are Cape Parrots. A new species for my trip. Whoa, Wait. There’s been some splitting. These are now a new species: It’s a LIFER: Grey-headed Parrot!
Up near Pafuri, soft rain fell in bright sunshine. A Monkey’s Wedding! This is baobab and mopane woodland country. The sunlight emphasised the ‘autumn’ colors of the mopani leaves. It was neat to see the dirt roads drizzled clean, with no other vehicle tracks, or just one lone track ahead, making it easy to see if there were any new animal tracks.
– looking downstream from the bridge over the Luvhuvhu –
At the bridge over the Luvhuvhu, another LIFER: a Mottled Spinetail. Baobab trees hint at the possibility of their presence, but I’ve searched in vain for years. Today I saw them!
In Punda camp I got parked in by a German couple in a huge overland truck. To get out I nudged one of their huge spare tyres with my spare tyre so I could make my turn, causing the lady to rush out shouting blah blah like a Karen. I said relax, fraulein. Later they pulled into a site near mine and that was it, no door or window opened, they stayed inside. They had aircon running, and an onboard toilet, shower and kitchen. I didn’t see them stick a nose outside the whole time they were there! They must have though, as the next day there were two deck chairs outside. Touring in a hermetically sealed truck, keeping Africa at arms length! Different.
Not much accommodation north of Punda Maria. A couple of private lodges, and a camp near the Mocambique border which was full, but “Try River Camp,” the helpful fella at Pafuri gate suggested. I was glad he did. So Saturday and Sunday nights were outside the park at Pafuri Rivercamp, a lovely spot, I recommend it. It rained on the way there, ca. 4pm and on & off to 7pm. The camper proved rainproof and cosy in my beautiful campsite under big shady trees. Each site has its own rustic shower and kitchen with gas geyser and paraffin lamps. As I fell asleep Eastern Olive Toad ‘ruarks’ from the nearby Mutale River filled the night. The Mutale flows into the famous-for-birders Luvhuvhu, which I finally got to see after reading about it for decades. The Luvhuvhu flows on into the more famous Limpopo where SA, Zimbabwe and Moçambique meet near ‘Crooks Corner,’ land of myths about crooks, rustlers, smugglers and fugitives.
Saddle-bill Stork
White-crowned Lapwing
Heuglins Robin-chat (white-browed)
Mosque Swallow
Magpie Shrike
Black-crowned Tchagra
Brown-crowned Tchagra
Burchells Coucal
White-crested Helmet-shrike
Tawny Eagle
Bateleur
Collared Sunbird
White-bellied Sunbird
Marico Sunbird
Terrestrial Brownbul
White-fronted Bee-eater
Fish Eagle
Red-bill Firefinch
Red-headed Weaver
Pin-tailed Whydah
Long-tailed Paradise whydah +○
Greater honeyguide calling
Wire-tailed swallow
Rock Martin
Dickinsons Kestrel
Cut-throat Finch
Red-billed Quelea
Terrestrial Brownbul
Black-headed Oriole
Red-capped Robin-chat
Yellow-bellied Greenbul
Yellow-breasted Apalis
Scimitarbill
Golden-tailed Woodpecker
Emerald-spotted Wood-dove
Verreaux’s eagle Owl heard
‘Pafuri picnic site is beautiful’ is an understatement. I have little doubt most places called ‘Eden’ are a pale shadow of Pafuri picnic site on the right bank of the Luvhuvhu. Bias, sure.
Notes for next time: Check out Kloppersfontein again. Spend a full day at Pafuri picnic site, a really a very special spot on the Luvhuvhu – see the insert pic in the collage above. Lots of birds; Big gang of Banded Mongooses; Big Nyala bulls soft-shoe stepping around each other in an elaborate polite-yet-wary macho display, vervets being chased by the camp superintendent. Nyala road nearby is beautiful.
Out on the Makalamabedi road south of Maun the Boteti river is flowing nicely. Three or four of the pipes have a swift current and the birds are loving it. And I only got two pictures, none of the lovely scene!
. . and then there’s the salubrious suburb of Tsanakona and Janet’s patch there on the right bank of the fascinating Tamalakhane River. Quite one of my favouritest places in the world!
Lee organised his umpteenth trip to the CKGR – the Central Kalahari Game Reserve – and my first! His frequent fellow travelers Hans and Karina joined him on their annual visit from the Netherlands; as did Dwayne the pilot; he also invited Janet – and me! At last, a trip to a long-desired destination.
Mopani camp was full. How about Letaba? I asked. Sorry, its also full. So Jessie found Tingala Lodge on booking.com – What a happy diversion it turned out to be.
About 15km north of Phalaborwa gate into Kruger Park, Tingala Lodge is terrific. While we chilled on the big patio overlooking a waterhole, a lady arrived in a double-cab bakkie and I noticed a couple of cases of Painted Wolf wine being carried into her room. When she joined us on the patio where I was nursing a G&T, I said, ‘Lovely Wine, that Painted Wolf. My sister sells it in Durban.’
Oh, she said, Your sister must be Sheila!It’s my wine. My husband is the winemaker. I’m visiting lodges promoting it, asking them to include it on their wine lists. All sales help with Wild Dog conservation. I’ve just stayed at Lion Sands.
‘Yep, Sheila’s my sister. I love the labels,’ I said, ‘Who does your artwork?’
Originally, an artist who worked on a game lodge in Botswana.
‘Which lodge?’
Lloyds Camp on the Savute channel.
‘I knew an artist at Lloyds Camp,’ I said, ‘Jenny Song, she was there when we visited way back when.’
It was Jenny! She did our original artwork.
‘What a lovely person, we got on so well with her. My wife Trish bought something she painted. We had such a special time there,’ I said. ‘When we flew in from the Delta, back in the day, we were picked up at the landing strip by Emma, a young pink-cheeked Pom who said she was the chef, and she was on guest-fetching duty that day. She loaded us into the open Landrover and drove us right up an elephant’s bum at the waterhole on the way to camp. When we got to camp Emma had prepared a delicious lunch for us overlooking the camp waterhole in the channel, and we ate and drank ice-cold beers looking down on eles heads as they drank freshly-pumped water.’
I’m that Emma! said this Emma! I worked with Lionel and Jenny Song in Lloyds Camp in 1993. I loved driving new arrivals to Pump Pan to watch the eles.
In 2022 we had bumped into Emma the pink-cheeked Pom from our 1993 trip to Lloyds Camp! You sadly just have to behave wherever you go – someone, somewhere will know you – even 29 years later!
I carried on reminiscing about our time in Savute: ‘Our fellow guests were cabin crew from SouthWest Airlines in Texas, the world’s biggest airline at the time. We had to chase lions because of them and Lionel.’
That would be Doug and Linda, said Emma, and you won’t believe it, I was in contact with Linda just yesterday. We have kept in touch ever since! She’ll be amazed when I tell her who I met today.
I’ve since read Lloyd Wilmots book and he mentions Doug and Linda.
~~oo0oo~~
The next day we were due at Mopani Camp in Kruger, so we only stayed one night at Tingala Lodge. I’d love to go back. The birding was terrific, and on the way out we saw an African civet in broad daylight.
~~oo0oo~~
Birds at Tingala Lodge Dark chanting goshawk Brubru Pearl-spotted owlet Buffalo weaver Groundscraper thrush Nightjar calling White helmet-shrike Arrow-marked babbler GB bunting
Zena said We must go to Kruger, my man Martin is a fabulous guide. I said Let’s Go!, and when August rolled round there we were, chilling in the mopane woodlands around Mopani Rest Camp in the famous Kruger National Park, drinking gin and tonic, gazing out over Pioneer dam from our under-thatch bird-watching stoep.
– seek out chalet 43 in Mopani Camp –
Martin Brasg is an honorary ranger and runs Laughing Hyena Safaris. His experienced Kruger Park nose soon led us to great sightings – big ones, feathered ones and little ones too.
Suddenly! We spotted some spots in the mopane shadows! With great skill we tracked the shadowy spots through the dappled sun and shade of the mopane woodland. What could it be?
Hey, it was! It was a . . a . . leopard! Kruger’s holy grail. With great tracking skill, we had found it:
– Martin showed us how to tell that it was a boy leopard –
. . . ‘course, we actually found it the traditional Kruger Park way:
– check the Sharkie going offroad to shove in front of us – tut tut – most un-Natal-like –
To celebrate we had lots more gin & tonic, which improved our sightings even more:
A keen photographer and Canon ambassador, Martin aimed his long lens out the window and later let us have some of his pics:
. . and he made us a video:
and he taught us a new bird species: the Burchell’s Poupol
Lovely accommodation, such friendly and helpful people. I decided to go full-on loafing and arrived expecting dinner, bed and breakfast. They had us as self-catering and the chef had taken leave. We said No Problem; They said No Problem; and between us we pooled what food we had. The delightful Nana who welcomed us and whose face fell when I asked what time dinner was, ended up cooking breakfast for us all three mornings. She was teased by the other staff in her new role and as I listened to them bantering in isiZulu, she ended off her reply with this American English: “There’s a new chef in the building!” to warm laughter. For our dinners she hauled venison out of the deep freeze and we cooked for ourselves as she goes home at 4pm. Today she said “I’ll make you a proper breakfast tomorrow, we have been shopping!” – the shops are about 27km away in Pongola.
Great birding for me, and Jess saw another special predator: A pack of seven African Painted Dogs.
At night a leopard (the resident female, said Adrian) could be heard ‘sawing logs’ while walking in or near the camp, while a lone lion oom oom’d at various distances all three nights.
Southern Double-collared Sunbird, and we think the butterfly may be a Tintinkie Blue.
A ticking in the birdbath led to Louis finding this fella – we think a Kloof frog from his ticking call. (Petrea/Louis, do you still have a recording?).
Here’s the birdlist: (coming soon)
Also: The Winterskloof is a very hospitable place; and good prices. I get a warm meal, a second helping, much grog and a crackling fire in the kaggel, followed by a comfy bed for the very attractive price of four-call Ront.
The 258km from Harrismith to Parys via Weiveld takes six hours to negotiate if you haven’t yet seen a korhaan and you need to see one.
This includes a stop for steak egg and strips at the Royal Hotel in Reitz. Instead of strips I got potato wedges crisply fried in batter. Yum!
Here’s the route for slow pokes not in a hurry:
The roads are really quite good mostly. There’s a section between Petrus Steyn and Heilbron where the ANC oke who got the pothole tender must have pocketed the money and not delivered them. It’s smooth and kinda first world! He’s gonna be in trouble. The dirt roads are also mainly fine, but can get rough, and in the dips they get more interesting, as they’ve had some rain. Mud and some deep pools.
I saw my korhaan at last. Not the Blue, which I’ve been searching for, but the Northern Black Korhaan. Also a few Namaqua Doves, a favourite. Pics from my Newman’s Birds app.
Heavy storms are predicted but I had only a few showers on the way.
The feature pic is the view from my B&B on the left bank of the Vaal (not the Seine, silly!) in Parys, Free State. Paddling mate Chris Greeff had told me about this lovely rapid in his home town. Read a bit about him here. There’s A LOT more – Greeff should write a book.
Very warm in bed in Mistique Waters guest house on the banks of the Vaal after a hot bath. Tomorrow the streets of Paris!
M.agical A.vian and H.ysterical E.xpedition to M.emel – 2.0
I decided to look for elusive gentlemen farmers Des and Ian by launching a stealth visit to the Memel district, choosing the Memel hotel as my base. This magic old hotel is not just IN the main road, its ON the main road. If you stretch your foot out while drinking a beer on the stoep it could get driven over by the big knobbly tyre of a farmer’s bakkie. Why’s the bakkie nearly on the hotel stoep and does his wife know he’s there? Well, ons sal sien.
I settled on that stoep with a cold beer and asked if anyone knew Des Glutz? Well, they all did and they all had lots to tell me. Just wait right there, said Rudi the friendly hotelier, He’s sure to pop in, it’s Friday.
Various bakkies arrived and men in khaki wearing boots or velskoens trooped into the bar. Most wore langbroeks in khaki. Then a Nissan bakkie parked right in front of me and under the chassis a pair of bony feet in blue slip-slops appeared, followed by a pair of bony legs in faded navy blue rugby shorts with plenty of ballroom. His face and neck were covered by a scraggly beard but two eyes peeped through and I could see this was my man. He’s kinda unmistakable with his half-closed eyelids. Also, khaki shirt with a notebook and pen for the amnesia.
– my view of that Nissan –
I accosted him from my prime spot on the stoep: ‘Excuse me, what you think you doing? You can’t come in here dressed like that!’ Well, then he knew I was from far, cos he most certainly can and does go into the Memel pub dressed like that. He stopped in his tracks and stared at me with his chin tilted up and his eyes half closed, you know how Des does that. Then he kicked for touch: Wait, I’m just going to tell these fuckin old fossils I’ll be late. He ‘stuck his head in the door and cussed his three slightly older drinking pals, telling them they were fuckin old fossils and he’d be outside, they must behave themselves; then he came back to stare at me. Took a while to see through my new beard, then he said Coppers!? Is that you? He called me Coppers after a Clifton primary schoolmate oke called Copchinsky. He also called policemen copchinskys.
As people arrived everyone greeted Oom Des and he had a cussing and a vloekwoord for each of them. Except the ladies. Hello my sweetheart, I still love you but I’m worried about your heart, he says to one, Come here and let me listen to your heartbeat. She leans over him and he nestles his ear in her boobs and rubs back and forth going Mmmmmm. Haai! Oom Des! she says and rubs his head affectionately. Incorrigible. He has not changed, never mind improved. Not at all, I’m afraid. We had a wonderful evening nodding at each others lies. Every time I told him I don’t normally drink but I’d make an exception tonight cos he was there, he’d order another quart of beer each. He left for home, very late, with the re-heated and re-heated pizza Mercia had ordered as a peace offering.
I discovered a few things that Memel evening: One was that the mense of Memel love the oke.
The next day I drove around the well-known Seekoeivlei nature reserve; Des was off to pretend to buy bulls at a vendusie with one of the fuckin old fossils. I saw them on the road but Des had his head in his notebook for amnesia and the fuckin old fossil doesn’t know me.
Des and Mercia have a lovely spacious home in town and Oom Des decreed that a braai would be held there. Unfortunately I hopped into his bakkie to go there, mid-conversation, so I had no beers, no car. Soon after, another apparition arrived with a snow-white beard. The Bothas Pass hermit had emerged from his cave, bearing enough beers for an army, plus a bottle of brandewyn. Ian Stervis Steele, who I had not seen for many decades. What a night. About ten people, about a hundred beers and a gallon of brandewyn; lots of mutton chops, pork ribs and boerewors, a huge pot of pap and a very lekker sous. Very good oldtime music and Des at the head of the table till WAY late. Generous hospitality and much laughter.
Stervis, myself and a local couple stayed the night with Des and Mercia and their four dogs, the most notable one being a pekingese / sausage dog cross. Pitch black and chubby, about ankle-high, with that Pekingese-style smashed flat beak. Name: RAMBO. If you weren’t careful it would lick you. I got the comfy couch in the lounge.
The next day I was off-peak and had a snooze back at the hotel and booked another night. In the afternoon I drove out to Normandien and Mullers passes and then visited Des. For tea this time. Then back to the hotel where Rudi cooked me a huge T-bone and I had one glass of red and an early night, dank die hemel, Memel.
I saw stonechats, mountain wheatears and amur falcons; and the beautiful Klipspruit valley.
Before I left on this drive I called in at the butcher for some fatty biltong. The owner enquired what I was doing in town and I said I had been sent on a special mission to find and fix a man called Des Glutz. He and two customers in the shop roared with laughter and told me in no uncertain terms that there was no way I could ever live long enough to achieve that.
~~oo0oo~~
mahem – the sound this bird makes
mahem – grey crowned crane that shouts ‘MaHem!’
bakkie – pickup; ute; status symbol
slip-slops – Glutz fashion footwear
fuckin old fossils – people slightly older than Des
vloekwoord – swearword; expletive; term of endearment
brandewyn – sacramental drink served as part of the braai ritual in tall glasses; distilled from grapes or peaches, they say. Stervis brought a bottle along which he’d found at a helluva good price, he said.
dank die hemel – Memel ‘sanks heavens’ ritual chant
~~oo0oo~~
Memel is maybe named after a Memel in East Prussia where they fought a battle in 1257, even before Des was born. The name means silence, but that has been broken since Des moved to town, and since Memel joined with Zamani to become Memel-Zamani.
I heard a tap tap tapping next door. Industriousness can be very irritating, so I bustled out to have a look. My neighbour on the other side is industrious and what a pain. There’s a lawnmower, or a leaf blower, or a high pressure hose going so often it drives me crazy. I haven’t shouted GET A LIFE! over the fence. I’m far too polite.
Turns out this tap tap tapping is a bloke building a new home. He has chosen his site for the best possible fibre wifi access. Progress has been stopped today after his lady friend came to look at the joint. Maybe she didn’t fancy the bathroom tiling or the layout or something? I like it. It’s east-facing, gets the morning sun, and is protected from our prevailing wind and rain from the SW.
~~oo0oo~~
If he abandons it a Crested Barbet may move in. He’s been prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr-ing in the yellow-flowered Cassia tree next to the pole.
– Golden-tailed Woodpecker – Crested Barbet – thanks wikipedia
Later I saw him doing some interior work – and spitting out the sawdust:
Hopefully they’ll be good neighbours once they stop making a racket.
There’s a beautiful patch of coastal forest left in Durban, hanging on as development happens all around it. Strolling around in the forest and on the fringe with sister Sheila and friend Jules, we heard a host of birds, saw a few and took pics of a few of the plants and creatures that would sit still.
– Variable Diadem on the lawn –– Dideric Cuckoo tries to enter a Red Bishop nest –
– Jules spots a bushbuck and re-creates her days in Harding when she used to swing from liana to liana like Tarzan to get to school –– where’s that blerrie cuckoo? –– alive with All Things Bright and Beautiful – – the reed frog chorus is a delight –Also – All things dull and ug-ga-ly All creatures short and squat . .
~~oo0oo~~
Next visit we walked through the forest to the deck overlooking the river.
Useful to top up your salt intake every so often by sticking your tongue in your nostril. Must practice that.
Mpila camp’s ‘safari tents’ are great. Comfy with all modcons, own kitchen and en-suite semi-outdoor bathroom. It’s walled in with reeds, like the kitchen wall you see here, but only to shoulder height – above that, it’s open to the outdoors under the big canvas roof. It’s a treat. A Purple-banded Sunbird sang to me as I showered. No pictures.
While photographing these ‘acacia’ flowers (must get the real name – maybe Senegalia?) this biggish weevil or snout beetle dropped into my hand. I’ll ask iNaturalist.org to identify both the plant and its weevil. Otherwise it would be like I saw no weevil.
– a Wahlberg’s Eagle and a Yellow-billed Kite share a perch –
A slender mongoose made a breakfast appearance at a waterhole. If anything was nesting in there, they were egg and toast, as she inspected every nook and cranny.
Driving along, an oft-heard sound and a not-often-seen sighting:
– a very obliging Black Cuckoo calls ‘I’m So Sick!’ –
At the hide (must add the name – Bhejane?) I saw the lovely Mocking Cliff Chat, Lesser Striped Swallows, Village Weavers building nests and a Hadeda Ibis pulling down their new nests around its nest! A Diederik Cuckoo was calling, probably waiting to get into those weaver nests. This hide looks out over a waterfall – dry today:
At another waterhole a bird flew past as my little Canon snapped a 3-shot burst:
I took a new route home, exiting the Cengeni gate in the south-west of the park and heading for Ulundi, Melmoth and Eshowe. Right outside the gate exiting the Umfolozi Big Five Game Reserve there’s this puzzling sign:
– or turn around and go back fifty metres! –
I asked the man at the gate, How far to Ulundi? 37km. I asked him, And how is the road? and he got all coy, hummed and hah’d a bit, then blurted, “but it is a tar road.” It wasn’t too bad. A fairly normal look-sharp neglected tar road as we’re used to.
If I still had Marguerite Poland’s book on the isiZulu descriptive names of Nguni cattle I’d tell you how this beast on the way to Ulundi would be described:
– something like ‘she lifts her black dress to cross the river, revealing her white petticoat’ –
I’ll go back to Mfolosi. Soon, though. Before it also loses all its grasslands to bush encroachment.
I enjoyed my stay in Hluhluwe. I stayed in Hilltop camp in the old rondawels that were built in the fifties or sixties. About sixty years ago.
– same view – 1966 and 2021 –
They’re very comfy now, with a ceiling fan, big cupboard, fridge, cutlery and crockery and cooking utensils, power points, lights, washbasin with hot water, kettle. And aircon. The bed linen was luxurious, fresh and clean and seemed brand new. The kitchen and ablution building is shared by all. The shower had hot water.
I spent both days there in the camp, no driving. The bushy hills where once there was grassland is not a good sight, so I elected to walk the camp forest – much of which was also once grassland!
Top right the Tassleberry tree has the most tassles I ever saw. Bottom right the Grewia shows why its called a crossberry. Click on them for a better look.
A beautiful old paperbark Commiphora had an interesting hole-in-the-bole, so I zoomed in: Bees, honeycombs and a butterfly that went back again and again despite the bees buzzing her.
Some flowers I lazily havent yet identified:
– crested francolin – beautiful feather patterns –– one European Roller on an interesting branch –
As I said, I enjoyed Hluhluwe, but I don’t think I’ll go back in a hurry. The disappearance of the grasslands ruins it for me. I wonder if there’s an eco management plan for Hluhluwe?
Lovely three nights solo in Mantuma Camp at Mkhuze game reserve in Zululand. Nothing much happened, animals were not plentiful, the grasslands are still sadly bush-encroached, but the birds, insects and plants more than made up for that. So as not to moan about Homo sapiens urbanensis polluting the lovely hides with farting, phone calls, smoking and loud shutter clicks of the cameras with more computing power than their owners, I have politely refrained from commenting, and instead played some games with the pictures I took with my phone and my lovely pocket Canon sx620hs. Enjoy!
I dunno what he saw in there, but he was making an awful racket for a long time – snake maybe?
this tiny little spider on my rearview mirror elongated himself to look like a mini octopus when I came too close –
At last an ele in Mkhuze! I was beginning in the last few years to think there weren’t any left. There must be very few, anyway.
– now he has spotted me, he’s shtum –
At Kumahlala hide, after an hour of being alone and quiet, the Foam Nest Frogs Chiromantis xerampelina started up a chorus. Took a while, but I found one up on a twig just outside the hide and got a pic of him. I wish I had thought to tape their call – a lovely loud chorus – I’d guess about four of them doing a fine barbershop quartet! I was so busy searching and then clicking, I didn’t think of recording them! Here’s a shy soloist:
Found a new frog! I went through my frog calls: A Rhythmic Caco – Cacosternum rythmum. I must look for a picture of one. I would not be able him in the flooded grass in the waterhole, confined as I am to the hide; also, he’s little over a centimetre long. Another name for Cacos is Dainty Frogs. I think we miss a lot by being noisy and impatient. If I’d left the hide after 45mins – way longer than we usually can sit still – I’d have missed these fine choristers.
Sunset at Masinga Waterhole: The sun sets behind the big old Boerbean tree that was probably already there when I first visited ‘Mkuzi’ in 1965. The hide wasn’t here then. The famous Bube hide was the ‘in place’ then, just a few hundred metres away (north, I think).
– very little water – full of green algae –
Driving out of the park to go home, a bushveld scene: Stripes and horns and a few egrets hanging around, hoping for some disturbance to happen. I ‘shopped’ the lily into the foreground, as it was lonely in its own picture with nothing around it. And it was nearby . .
Bewilderbeast Droppings 