On 1 June 2017 Ray, my husband, and I were taken to the Pilanesberg Game Reserve by Ray's boss. I shall call him Al, as I don't have his permission to use his name. Al, besides having a December Santa business, is a professional South African tour guide and photographer.
At 3:30am sharp, our front door-bell rang; Al had arrived in his pale gold Jaguar to fetch us. He wanted to arrive at the game reserve when the gates opened at 6:30am. Little did we know that the road to Rustenburg had been redone - we arrived an hour earlier than anticipated. Fortunately, we had the good sense to take a cooler bag stocked with sandwiches and flasks of steaming coffee which we tucked into to while away the time. The temperature outside the car was 4C, and the sky was ablaze with bright stars which we never get to see at home.
Pilanesberg Game Reserve is a provincial park in South Africa, northwest of Johannesburg. It’s set in an extinct volcanic crater which is 1.2 billion years old, with grasslands, wooded valleys and multihued rock formations. Wildlife includes elephants, lions, leopards and rhinos. Animals drink at Mankwe Dam, a man-made lake built in 1967. Abundant birdlife includes eagles and ostriches. Concealed wildlife-viewing shelters, called hides, are scattered throughout the park. A big plus, the whole area is malaria free.
We made straight for the Mankwe Dam in the hopes of seeing lions, or other big game coming for their morning drink. Alas, it was not to be. We wandered the winding dirt roads, occasionally spotting guinea fowl and other appealing birds, most of which I don't even remember now. Al was a fountain of knowledge with all sorts of interesting patter on the various species - there are 360 species listed in the park. We saw a largish herd of Impala, presided over by the ram which had an impressive set of horns. We later saw several smaller herds. We glimpsed an elephant rump as it disappeared into the bush - that was our only sighting of elephant the whole day, much to our disappointment. We did manage to see two white rhino at quite close range. We didn't want to get too close, as we didn't want to disturb these temperamental beasts. The nearest one had colossal horns, the largest we have ever seen. We saw giraffe, at a distance; also zebra and wildebeest, though not together, which is unusual. We got came across warthog mating, and a whole flock of guinea fowl, two of which were fighting; presumably males, watched nervously by a crowd of females.
At 11am we stopped off for brunch at a restaurant named "Zebra Crossing". The dining area was on a large shaded deck overlooking a small dam. We took our seats in a corner nearest to the open area which was between us and the dam. A salt lick had been placed in the middle of the open area and a lone kudu was taking his time, having his fill of the salt. A grey go-away bird perched on the metal rope, which served as the top part of the fencing, watching me/us.
We ordered our food, which arrived with remarkable speed. As I tucked into my bacon, eggs and fries, the precocious bird edged nearer to us, seemingly fixing me with its beady eye. When I glanced up again, it was in the eaves, almost right above us. It was obviously hungry: I couldn't resist the temptation the feed it. In direct contravention of the "Please don't feed the animals or birds" sign, I covertly broke off a small corner of my toast, laying it on top of the wooden railing next to me. The bird took the bait. He fluttered down without any hesitation, sadly, as he tried to grasp the morsel, it dropped to the ground below the deck. He swooped down, finished it, and returned for more. This time he perched right next to me on the railing. I held out another piece of toast which he took right from between my fingers. I was thrilled, despite the low growls of "No - don't!" and digs in the ribs from Ray.
We ate slowly, watching a cloud of dust grow nearer. We were soon to discover the cause of the dust. A small herd of wildebeest were coming to take their turn at the salt lick. We looked on in fascination as they jostled and pranced, sorting out their 'pecking order'. The wildebeest were still taking turns, having a lick, when we spied five giraffe drawing nearer. I wondered how the wildebeest would react to the presence of this another species. I was gratified to see no animosity between the two. As the giraffe spread their legs in an effort to reach the salt, the wildebeest cavorted around them, raising more dust.
In the meantime, a herd of impala had gathered off to one side. They seemed intent on getting to the dam to drink. Every now and then, one of the does would make a dash towards the water, but would quickly be rounded up by the ram, and driven back to the rest of the herd. The ram seemed nervous, keeping his ears pricked for the slightest sound. We were told that there had been lions in that clearing some time back. Maybe it was the memory, or smell, of this that made the ram nervous.
At about 1pm we reluctantly took our leave. We had been hoping to see bigger game come to the dam to drink, but were disappointed. We drove on to a couple of hides, on the lookout for leopard or lion. We drove to the Mankwe hide last. As we neared the hide we observed a lone hippo standing off to one side of the road. He looked as if he had been in a fight, with battle scars and wounds. He stood with his head down, looking woebegone and weary.
At the hide we spent about an hour or more there watching the king fisher's dive and capture their prey, beating the fish on a half submerged tree-stump, to soften it up before swallowing. After a while, the king fisher's were joined by a pair of spoonbills. Large white birds with long spoon-shaped red bills. They just sat on the tree-stump preening themselves. Off to one side we spotted a herd of hippos near the shore. They were too distant to be of too much interest. Just outside the hide we saw a terrapin sunning itself on another tree-stump. As we had neared the dam, we had seen a pair of fish eagles and had hoped to see them in action. Again we were disappointed.
A minute or two after leaving the hide, we managed to spot a lone crocodile. It was lazing in the hot African sun, on a bank of the dam. By now the temperature had risen to 25C.
We again drove around the narrow dirt tracks, past magnificent outcrops of red rock, in the vain hope of spotting a leopard. There were hyrax in proliferation, so we knew that our chances of seeing a leopard were slim. A few more warthog were seen winding along their trails with their tails held erect, like aerials. Plenty of elephant dung and snapped trees were in evidence of the giant pachyderms presence in the park, but after our glimpse early in the day, none were to be seen.
Al was very disappointed with his photo-shoot that day, saying that it was his worst day ever. No big game at all. Ray and I commiserated with him, but we had been enchanted with our day out. We had thoroughly enjoyed ourselves!
