Tag Archives: Peter Koos Swanepoel

Outstanding!

Quite one of the best game drives I have ever been on! We headed for Red Rocks, a place where the sandy Shongweni riverbed is cut by a different geological layer resulting in an impressive cataract / waterfall.

To get back to camp we had two options: Back the way we’d come with a wall of green Mopani woodland on either side, or cross the river and head north and downstream along the left bank on a route I remembered as more open savannah dotted with big trees and glimpses of the sandy riverbed en route.

So glad we chose the latter.

It was beautiful. Miles of mixed herds of zebra, impala and wildebeest, lots of giraffe – up to sixteen in a bunch; one herd of eles with tiny babies; many waterbuck with young; one solitary warthog that got a fright, then chased our car like a dog!

The light was perfect, the trees – jackalberry, sycamore fig, fever tree, nyala, natal mahogany, mopani, apple-leaf – magnificent. The open grasslands between were a relief from miles of Mopani and that’s where the rutting impala ram noisily chased his target doe for the day; zebras kicked each other, raising dust, and wildebeests stared dopily while lying in the shade. The eles were peaceful except for one young bull who swore at us and raised his middle trunk as we passed.

Hornbills, including the big ‘Thunderbirds’ shown, fish eagles, puffbacks, go-away birds, weavers, 3-banded plover, crowned lapwing, hamerkop, drongo. All ‘ordinary’ birds and animals but in a wonderful quintessential African setting on a lovely cloud-and-blue-sky day.

~~oo0oo~~

Shingwedzi Again

Progress on the panelbeating of the Ford Ranger, but no end-date yet, so Jess and I did our usual dash to Kruger park. Waiting is hell in a town, bliss in a game reserve. Slowing progress is that scourge of old vehicles, *rust*!

We got one night in Mopani camp, three nights in Shingwedzi. On arrival we snagged another two here.

Lush green growth and lots of surface water after recent rains, so animals quite scarce. Some roads closed due to flood damage and much repair and reconstruction going on. Nature looking good, its our man-made infrastructure that gets damaged.

The couple camped permanently are still here. We met them when we had an mfezi in our bonnet some time ago. That’ll be well over two years they’ve been camped on the same spot in Shingwedzi!

One day we must ask to stay in one of the older bungalows here:

Hey, we got one of the 1935 huts! See how they’re much as they were back then – on the outside. The interiors are new and smart. Tiled, big shower, fully-equipped kitchen on the porch.

Those mopani tree trunks in the foreground look only a little thicker after 85yrs!

– last drive on a drizzly day –
– Bennets Woodpecker female –
– Bronze-winged Courser –
– tiny tortoise – about 90mm nose to tail –

~~oo0oo~~

Bumbling down another River

How you doin’? I asked Indomitable Felix, after a night on a sandy riverbank under a clear, jet-black starry sky. We both pretended not to be stiff or limping. He’s been fitted with spare parts made of yards of titanium, used plastic buckets, steel tubing, iron bars and crushed Tafel beer cans, but after considering the question for half a second he announced with a huge grin, “Swanie, I’m RIDDLED with good health.”

Had I asked him the same question forty two years earlier on a riverbank fifteen thousand kilometres NW of the riverbank we were now on, I’ve no doubt the answer would have been in much the same vein. That was the last time we’d been on a river trip together.

….
I knew this Felix Unite trip was going to be great, with good people, good grub, spectacular scenery, and that we would be fine with the unknowns – the weather and the water level.
It actually turned out amazing above and beyond. Felix’s gang of friends were terrific. They love the man, and they included and accepted me warmly. The food was next level; Felix’s men were skilled, well-trained, friendly and genuinely helpful. The weather and the river level fine-chooned themselves skilfully to be friendly and helpful; the moon also obligingly tucked away behind the western hills early so the ink-black sky could be at peak clarity. We had twenty four stars on the river and a billion in the sky.

And then to me the biggest tell – the thing I loved the most of all on this magic float down his river: The way he, as the founder and legend they had heard about from their fathers and uncles, treated his men; mucking in and helping them, coaching them, telling them the forty-year history of his famous river adventure company. He strummed his guitar round the kitchen fire, singing off-key and in-choon both, them joining in when they could. He quietly gave generously of his time. Above and beyond.

Also for a birthday:

I am so glad that, thanks to Lang Dawid Walker’s ongoing friendship and staying in touch, I finally made good on my decades long intention of, “I must do one of Felix’s trips one day.”

I’ve done some unforgettable river trips; they’re forever part of my memories. This one moved to the very top of them all.

I drew a long straw for a paddling partner on my first Orange River trip. I got Monica, who has been down this river many times. Here’s the point on the first day when she realised the oke in the back of her boat was no evinrude:

Quite often I had to lie down and rest as I watched these energetic ancients bustling about. I declined an invitation to climb this mountain, choosing to think n drink  in camp instead.

All too soon we had to klim innie bus for the ride back to base camp and a delicious last meal:

– Felix’s “the wetter the better” Bus –

~~oo0oo~~

That other river trip is here:

Kayak the Canyon

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*Hey, Thanks!* to many happy campers for these pics, most of which aren’t mine. I pinched them off the group blog.

Gonarezhou

It rained in the mountains of the Eastern Highlands of Zimbabwe. Quite a lot. But I think only in the last few days after our Chimanimani stop at the Frog & Fern cottages did we have days where it rained almost non-stop.

Frog & Fern

I remember the drive from Chimani to Gona, and the last day from Gona to Beit Bridge as being the rainiest. In Gona we had a rather windy night at the Chipinda Pools campsite. I tried to position my camper to block some wind and Dave erected a groundsheet to block more, but only when Esme put up a second groundsheet did we finally get some effective shelter.

Chipinda Pools campsite

The Rhunde river was really high and it kept rising. Jess and I went to look at the submerged causeway downstream. The next day Dave and Esme went, and the river was about three metres higher!

Rhunde causeway
Same causeway one day later

Most of the roads had been blocked off. We really could only traverse up and down the main Chipinda – Chilojo road. We made the most of it, plus the road to the dam and the causeway.

Saw way too little of Gona. A return trip here is a must.

Back to the highways! Jess spotted a flap-necked chameleon on the road. We moved him off the tar.

That was nineteen wonderful days in friendly Zimbabwe. Four one-night-stands and the rest two to four night stopovers. Lots of weather, lots of birds, good grub and good friendship. A trip to be remembered.

~~oo0oo~~

Bvumba Mountains

The Vumba Mountains or The Bvumba – Misty Mountains just SE of Mutare on the Zim / Moz border. Our base was the well-known Seldom Seen cottages where the staff did us proud in a large comfy farmhouse with a great view eastwards into Mocambique.

Resident birding guide and everything-else Buluwezi was great. He took us up into the Miombo woodland in search of the very special African Spotted Creeper. One flew in and gave great binocular views but was too quick for the cameras. Then one arrived and sat still for maybe ten minutes! Most un-creeper-like. So we all got pictures, even me.

He’s Spotted – and hard to spot
Until he moves

Also Red-faced Crombec, Purple-crested Turaco, Yellow-streaked Greenbul, Miombo Double-collared Sunbird, Black-eared Seedeater, and yay! at last, a Stripe-cheeked Greenbul sat and looked at me!

On our own walks we saw Black-fronted Bushshrike, Cape Robin-Chat, Lemon Dove, Stone Chat, Long-crested Eagle, Fiscal Shrike, Bronzy Sunbird, Tawny-flanked Prinia.

Buluwezi saved my most-wanted-bird of the whole trip for last. After a big circular walk to various spots in the forest below the homestead, he brought us back to near the garden and had us lying down in the damp soil and leaf litter peering into the gloom. There a male Swynnerton’s Robin sat inches off the ground and preened itself for ages while we got saturation views. I didn’t bother with my camera, just kept my Zeiss binnies glued to him. I hope to get a pic from Dave or Esme to show here. Here’s wikipedia’s pic by Maans Booysen as a place-holder.

For decades I kept a neat little wooden box with a hinged lid on my grandfather Frank’s oak desk. On it some artist had decoupaged and varnished a picture of a Swynnertons Robin. Now, at last, the real thing!

Onward! South to the Chimanimani Mountains and Chirinda Forest. Except the latest intel on Chirinda Forest was that the road was simply too bad to be worth it. So Chimanimani, then straight to Gonarezhou.

– Frog & Fern cottages outside Chimanimani village –

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Here’s our Zim route in pink; and bottom: Four of our stays in the highlands marked.

~~oo0oo~~

Aberfoyle

On the way north to Aberfoyle near the Mocambique border we enjoyed one of Dave’s signature tea stops: Chair and table out under a big tree; hebcooler and Stanley flask out; Soon lovely tea and a snack. While we were enjoying our break, Jess said, Dad there’s a bird. I brought her binocs and she got a good view of a beautiful Pytilia in among the miles of tea plants. Hey, she said, That was actually quite cool! Her first bit of interest in what we had been doing all along. Also her last.

Roadside Cafe David
Melba Finch -Pytilia – wikipedia

We booked into one of Aberfoyle’s self-catering cottages a couple k’s above the lodge. A great option, quiet and comfy – and Jess could stay on the lodge veranda while we went birding. Here too we had some solid downpours where we were glad we had some solid corrugated iron overhead!

Jess’ lodge stoep waiting station

On the way down to the lodge we got a great view of Swynnerton’s Spurfowl, the local tuxedo-morph of the Red-necked Spurfowl. At the lodge the Red-throated Twinspot posed dutifully so even my sedate, patience-testing little camera could get reasonable shots. Resident birder Morgan Saineti then took us straight to the very rare Lesser Cuckoo he had discovered. I got a good view, but no chance of a picture. It was most certainly a cuckoo, but was it a Lesser? Yes, cos I believe Morgan as he has showed it to a lot of good photographic birders. I got good views of Green-backed Woodpecker, Singing Cisticola and Green Twinspot. The Blue-spotted and Tambourine Wood Doves sat still; My camera tried its best…

Here’s a lone Zambezi Indigobird in miles and miles of tea where there should be grasslands.

Whattapleasure to be taken by Morgan to where he knows his birds hang out . .

~~oo0oo~~

Pungwe B Power Station

We needed a place to stay. Aberfoyle’s cottages were full and we were not going to pay Aberfoyle Lodge prices. Dave, as he usually did, found the solution: You can camp at Pungwe B power station – and only US$5 a head! Boy, I like prices like that.

We had traveled south to get down the mountain. As we headed east across the Honde Vally we saw the falls we’d hiked to a few days prior: Mutarazi Falls and its twin – the Muchururu Falls.

Red arrow = Mutarazi
both falls – waterflow more than we saw

The road to the power station was quite rugged and steep. Beautiful, and – birds along the way. On the way there I got a pair of Red-throated Twinspots. On the way out, Dave got a Black-winged Red Bishop. New to me in southern Africa – I had seen one in Malawi under ‘interesting’ circumstances decades before.

The weather was fair; The weather was foul; We had sunshine and we had a few torrential downpours that got the stream roaring. They’re used to rain in the mountains – check the roof for the outdoor braai.

Once again a communal shelter came to the rescue – we could cook and eat in dry comfort. We did ironically have a little power outage as we sat in the power station, but they soon fixed that.

And outside our loo with a view, Hooligan’s Robin sang his heart out.

Cossypha heuglini – The White-browed Robin-Chat, thanks xeno-canto.org

And here I have to admit the camper canvas seemed to have sprung a tiny leak and the mattress was ever so slightly damp! Jess may dispute my downplayed description of the problem! She was a star as ever, simply getting on with life.

Two nights here and now on to the famous Aberfoyle that every keen southern African birder has read about.

~~oo0oo~~

Marondera – Gosho Park

On South-Eastward to Marondera, which Helen Worswick had told me in 1973 was a beautiful place called Marandellas, which we prompty teasingly dubbed Marandeadloss. We were Rotary exchange students to Oklahoma back then. Well, if Gosho Park is anything to go by, she was right. We loved the two nights we camped there, even when the heavens opened on the second evening and a torrential downpour had us sheltering under the high roof of the educational centre and ablution structure. Luckily Dave’s years of outdoor life experience guiding trips down the Groot Gariep (or Orange) River saw him sensing the impending deluge, and by the time the real downpour started we had already relocated!

That night Esme had her own Night at the Museum experience:

If any of the creatures moved around that night, we didn’t notice it. And I think we’d have heard the giraffe’s neck creaking…

New birds for me at Gosho were the long-desired Southern Hyliota, the very special Collared Flycatcher and the Miombo Tit, plus a perfect view of the White-breasted Cuckooshrike. At night I heard Freckled and Fiery-necked Nightjars, Spotted Eagle, Wood and Barn Owls.

The campsites are set among the big rock outcrops in the woodland. We chose a site nearest the education centre. As the only people there we had use of the teachers facilities, much better than the rustic ones for the kids!

Walking in Gosho Park was a joy, across grasslands, past vleis, through woodland – Miombo woodland, 72 tree species recorded – and past high rocky outcrops. We agreed that if we ever got back to Zim we’d visit Gosho again, and for longer.

Now we’d trek on to Zimbabwe’s famous Eastern Highlands on the Mozambique border, a must-go destination for anyone wanting to see all southern Africa’s birds. I’d long promised myself I’d get there and here it was about to happen!

~~oo0oo~~

Harare

What lovely hospitality we were treated to at Crake Cottage near the Monavale Vlei. Dorothy and John adopted and spoilt us, looking after Jess whenever we were out birding, actually ferrying us to the vlei in John’s red fire engine, and producing a big pot of tea on the wide veranda on our return from trampling around vleis, sewage ponds n parks. We booked for two nights but stayed for four. “We” being Dave, Esme and me – three old birders – and young non-birder Jess, driving around Zimbabwe in a 2012 Toyota RAV 4X4 and a 2008 Ford Ranger 2X4, focused on camping but willing to chalet when wet weather dictated such a copout.

Birding spots we visited around Harare:

Monavale Vlei – A RAMSAR wetland and important source of water around the capital city. Our host Dorothy Wakeling has been actively involved in promoting the need for looking after these special places for many years. We didn’t spot any of the famous crakes and flufftails, the vlei had dried out somewhat already, but firsts for me were the Yellow-mantled Widowbird, Red-faced Cisticola singing – cisticolas have to say who they are for me to ID them – and Variable Sunbird. Our birding guide Jimmy Muropa was great.

Mazowe Botanical Reserve in Christon Bank – About 30km north of town we were taken on a lovely walk in the granite hills by birding guide Abel Nzaka. Here we followed bird parties up and down the hills among the boulders, spotting birds, including including these these that were new to me: Miombo Rock Thrush, Cabanis’ Bunting (seen once before, but in Malawi), Eastern Miombo Sunbird, White-breasted Cuckooshrike and Whyte’s Barbet. We glimpsed, but didn’t nail down, the Boulder Chat.

Haka Park – Just 10km east of Harare city centre, this park is paradise. Grasslands, my favourite biome, and islands of trees and big boulders, flanked by Miombo woodland. The tree islands have perfect shady campsites. Long-tailed Paradise Whydah and Senegal Coucal.

Mukuvisi Woodland – A midday walk around Mukuvisi was not very productive and we ended up looping around (not ‘getting lost!’) longer than we intended. Another special natural area close to the city. If you started earlier on a good day I’m sure it would hum. We did get a picture of a Guineafowl Butterfly.

We left Harare with great memories of good people, delicious shared meals and enjoyable birding. Roads in the city are lousy, but the highways to and from the city were mostly fine, except for detours.

On South-Eastward to Marondera now …

~~oo0oo~~

Kruger Park Again

Jess and I needed to get away – waiting for the insurance company to make a decision on our damaged vehicle was taking forever – so we chose one of our favourite places, Kruger National Park. For the first time we stayed in Orpen camp, the only camp we had never stayed in. And what a lovely little camp it is too.

Pics only for now

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No Divine Engine Overhaul?

I left the tyre place with my four brand-new polished rubber slippers on my Ford feeling chuffed and stable, if R14k lighter, when a shiny new and way-too-big for a 4-seater sportscar white BMW X6 switched on its hazard lights at a traffic light. The driver hopped out and ran to the car ahead of him. A dull faded green old Korean sedan in trouble.

The two drivers nodded, one hopped in and the BMW driver started pushing, soon joined by his tubby passenger, leaving the BM blinking at the lights. I followed them by driving round the BM. Soon they pulled over huffin and puffin. No sign of life in the old faded green jalopy. ‘I’ll give him a tug,’ I shouted through my open window and they nodded and ran back to the shiny new white thing, their part in the attempted rescue done.

I pulled off in front of the faded green thing and hopped out to fish for my tow rope, but the scrawny 30-ish bearded driver in a grubby mechanics overall had done this before. He had a rope out like a flash and bopa’d it to my tow hitch. I’ll watch for your hand out your window I said, ‘OK Uncle,’ he said.

Three times he dropped the clutch and the faded green hopped and screeched, tyres belching blue smoke (was he in first gear!?) but no go. He’d wave me on, his scrawny arm indicating, ‘Try Faster.’ I had to stop at two red lights, ran a third as all was clear and then at the fourth, BANG! he ran into me! Omigoodness. I pulled over, hopped out and we both surveyed the damage: My tow ball unaffected; his bonnet looking horrible, his already low-value car now worth less. Damn! Had his brakes failed? Had he lost focus? Had he texted his poppie? I didn’t ask.

Where can I tow you to where your car will be safe? I asked. ‘I rent a room in the location outside Meerensee, can Uncle tow me to there?‘ I’ll tow you to the nearest petrol station where you can ask the attendants to keep an eye on it while you arrange things, I offered. At the Shell station we pushed his car into a good spot as he told me his story. Blown head gasket, fixed, then blown again – ‘I think I used the wrong oil. Oh man,’ he sighed, ‘I just hoped By Grace it could have lasted until I got my drivers licence!’

Eish, maybe THAT was why he ran into the back of me?

I left him a cold drink and some cash and he was way too grateful for an oke still in such a pickle, praising ‘The Man Upstairs’ for helping him thus. Meantime there I was, R100 lighter and my feet firmly Downstairs on terra firma. I muttered to myself, He coulda just fixed you car rather!, but I didnt want to spoil his smile.

Damn!

~~oo0oo~~

Open Sesame

Weird that a bakkie’s electric window winding mechanisms don’t last eighteen years, don’t you think? And that one can’t get spares after so short a time?

Being without a working driver’s door window made me a bit sad. That was OK, though as it made my kids even sadder. They were my automatic gate openers and parking boom and toll booth payers. Actually they did it with surprising good humour, enjoying rolling their eyes at me and sighing. I think, I believe.

Then Willie Panelbeater found an after-market window-winding mechanism for me. The driver’s door window is back in business. Once again I am rolling up to tollbooth windows nonchalantly.

Meantime, the two rear windows had been playing up for quite a while, and eventually conked. So far we’ve been unsuccessful in our search of Olde Parts Suppliers and scrapyards, so I have had to Heath-Robinson a fix for the left rear door.

– Window Closed –
– Window Open –

Now for the right rear. We’ll take turns sitting in the back, cos having windows like these, that don’t open all the way, is not fun! Shouldn’t be allowed. How can you look cool if you can’t hang your elbow out the window?

Update 1: Both rear windows have yielded to my mechanical skill and know-how and can open and shut again – and: All-The-Way open! Elbow-hanging cool can now take place. Also photography out the window in game reserves. Admittedly all very manual, no electric motors involved, and closing them if it starts to rain or a lion wants to stick its snoot inside entails stopping, opening the door and manhandling them closed.

I call it nostalgia, a wonderful throwback to Mom growing up on Nuwejaarsvlei and driving to town in Dad Frank’s yellow 1927 Erskine Tourer. Read about that here.

~~oo0oo~~

Update 2: I bought an exercise mat on special and quickly, before any exercise could take place, cut it up and covered up the gaping hole. Netjies huh?

– not levver like the seats –

Painless Passports (update)

So determined was I to avoid going to Home Affairs that I made my life a bit of a misery. I spent hours online, starting 30th October. Later on I went to the FNB bank Cornubia branch that purports to do passports; they said Go Away, Go And Book Online. Eventually my  current passport’s expiry date dribbled by. Then finally, as a last resort, I went to Home Affairs in Richards Bay without an appointment at 10am on Monday.

Fifteen minutes later I emerged with the promise that I’d have my new passport in two weeks. These fifteen minutes included a walk out of the building and across the road to a trailer doing photocopies of ID cards for Five Seffrican Ront – R5.

Bloody yell. Last night an sms and an email confirmed I had indeed been there in the flesh and I had done all the right things, fine thumbprints and handsome mugshot included.

What a ninny. Next time I’ll be a man and sommer do it the normal way from the outset.

~~oo0oo~~

UPDATE: Today Monday, forty nine minutes short of one week after my visit, I received this sms:

sms from Home Affairs

Later, I picked up my passport in about five minutes – there was one person ahead of me being helped when I got to Collections; the photo is indeed that of an elderly gentleman looking concerned, but that’s not their fault. I salute the people at Home Affairs and I apologise for my pessimism! I’m usually the one saying, ‘Ah, It’s not so bad.’

Next, I asked my very own ‘Relationship Manager’ how I could get small denomination US dollars. She said what she always says: Go On The App. Well, *click *click and a large sum of Rands was removed from my account, with the promise to courier a tiny amount of greenbacks to my door. I’m waiting . .

Happy Noo Yeah!

“Every man hath two birthdays, the date of his actual birth and the first day of each new year. No one regards the First of January with indifference. It is that from which all date their time, and count upon what is left.”

English writer Charles Lamb in 1823

So regular birthdays tell us how far we’ve come. Just a historical fact, a number.
January 1st 'birth days' remind us to check where we have been and how much further we need to go. They're a wake-up call!

Here’s to a good 2026. Hey, we can hope . .

~~oo0oo~~

Our happy sound in the background for new year here in Mtunzini is the seldom-seen Southern Banded Snake Eagle. Ignore the dove going woo woo woo, the eagle is in the background going kak, kakakaa

~~oo0oo~~

(thanks for Charles Lamb quote, drmardygrothe.substack.com

– and thanks xeno-canto.org for bird calls)

Bonamanzi GR

My favourite thing about Bonamanzi is the sand roads that wind through the trees. Beautiful. And of course, the birdlife.

And the glades under the big trees where you want to stop and picnic; and the big shady trees you can camp under.

Tamboti grove Bonamanzi
Campsite Bonamanzi
Shady glade campsite in Bonamanzi
Picnic site Bonamanzi
collage creatures of Bonamanzi
Camping in Bonamanzi
Brian in Bonamanzi

This time we booked a self-cater ‘treehouse’:

Bonamanzi treehouse

We’ll be back, but we’ll be camping again.

~~oo0oo~~

The Great Escape

Jessie’s spotting again. We booked a stay in a treehouse at Bonamanzi. Arriving too early for check-in, we took a walk in the camp while waiting for the key.

Dad there’s a yellow frog. Where, Jess? Omigawd Dad, there’s a snake! Where, Jess?

I aim my binocs where she’s pointing on the ground and spot a beautiful, slender green snake. It lunges forward. Now I’m watching a bright green snake with a bright yellow frog in its beak. It makes for a tree, carrying it’s prey like a tiny peeled mango. Now, if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that our little yellow frog has croaked.

– Aargh! Didn’t have my camera with me! –

But wait! The unhappy frog is unwilling to die, and with a mighty kick it ruks los and hops off, snake in pursuit. That frog hopped well over twenty times higher than its full 36mm body length, three huge jumps in a row with that frog-catching specialist snake in hot pursuit. Then suddenly, maybe becoming aware of our presence, the snake changed it’s mind, abandoned the chase and beetled off. The frog paused for a breather and let me get close:

– cellphone camera is better for close-ups –

The frog was a Tinker Reed Frog, the snake likely a Natal Green Snake, but could also have been a Green Water Snake. About 600mm long I’d guess.

– the scene of the hunt, the grip and the escape –

Here he is, saying Holy Shit That Was Close!

Actually, I couldn’t find his call, so as a placeholder, I used a frog I hope to hear in the Chimanimani mountains on our upcoming trip to Zimbabwe. Enjoy.

~~oo0oo~~

ruks los – heroically frees himself with a well-aimed kick in the fangs with his one leg the snake didn’t quite secure; or maybe boxed him a left hook with his free fist?