Back in the relative safety of Johannesburg (relative safety being defined by the fact that the people we’re staying with in Jo’berg know less people who have been killed than the people we stayed with in Zimbabwe) it’s hard to miss he fact that apart from the sprawling shanty towns, every other property is surrounded by electrified fences, high walls, razor wire and dogs.

 

As the town was not dangerous enough, we were taken on a camping safari to the Kruger National Park. (Many more things that could kill you.)

 

The Kruger National Park is a huge area of nearly 20,000 square km to the northeast of South Africa, criss-crossed occasionally by tarmac roads and sand roads that you drive along through mainly shrub land and grassland and alongside rivers. There are occasional campsites which are fenced to keep the animals out, giving a safe haven for the night – with the roar of lions and the scavenging of hyenas at the fence giving you something to count as you drift off to sleep…..

 

……For an hour or two before getting up at crazy o’clock in the morning to be in the camper van and in the queue at the exit gate before 05.30am. Stephan was, well, let’s just say “keen” to be in the first 2 or 3 cars in the queue because the gates open on the dot at 5.30 and you really want to be the first car on one of the roads leading out through the park to have the best chance to see the lions, leopards and wild dogs that often walk the roads early morning, enjoying the feel of the retained roadheat from the previous day and avoiding the dewy grass. 

 

So, if you’re, let’s say, third in the queue on the first morning, the done thing (I offer this Kruger Park etiquette lesson free of charge to you) is to drive out after the first few cars shouting “turn off left, turn off left” to get rid of the first one and then pleading with the next one to carry on straight because the road we really wanted to go down is a few km from camp and off to the right. Worked like a charm.

 

Having successfully rid yourselves of the hindrance of cars ahead of you (it’s very bad form to overtake another person unless they are stopped at the side of the road and if they are stopped you’re likely to want to stop too because they’ll only be stopped because there’s something to see), you are free to enjoy an unencumbered view of the road ahead as you embark on a futile game of “leopard spotting”. Let’s face it, there could have been a troupe of 9 leopards in day-glo spandex leotards doing a Buzby Berkley routine and I wouldn’t have seen it at 5.30 in the morning.

 

However, over the 4 incredible days we spent in this amazing place we did see 42 different species including the Big 5, so named because they were the most prized hunting trophies in days gone by: loads of elephants, 4 different pairs and triplets of rhino, several groups of lions including one lucky chap and his harem of 10 ladies who were all relaxing by a water hole when a large bull elephant decided to walk through them and wanted them to move out of his way. They obliged. Quite a few buffalo and 2 leopards (or rather one leopard, twice – though not in the early morning). 

 

Apart from the big 5, favourites were probably the packs of African wild dogs we saw sleeping a couple of feet from us on several occasions – one or two would then get up and dopily meander about and flop down again looking incredibly docile and tame, a million miles away from the extraordinary raw power and aggression they show when they hunt with military precision in formation, running their prey, up to buffalo size, into the ground or taking it in turns to take chunks out of their moving dinner as they run alongside. 

 

And my personal favourite: one of nature’s real thugs – the honey badger. Nearly a metre long with a lovely two-toned light and dark grey coat. Prefers to attack rather than defend and will do so with no provocation. It has no real predators because nothing is stupid enough to take it on.

 

Apart from having a worse than skunk like excretion from the back end, its powerful teeth and claws do a good job at the front end. It has a tough, loose skin which, if a larger animal were daft enough to get its jaws around it, enables the honey badger to twist and give a good smack to anyone who’s grabbed it – same principle as a Glaswegian in a shell-suit, really.

 

Why are honey badgers so aggressive? I don’t know. Possibly it’s down to pure embarrassment over its name.

 

A honey badger sounds like he or she should be chums with Winnie the Pooh…..

 

Chapter 7. In which Winnie the Pooh meets the Honey badger.

 

The sun beamed its happy rays over 100 Acre Wood as Winnie the Pooh awoke, did a few uppy and downy exercises while thinking of his favourite jar of honey and then sallied forth, skipping off toward Piglet’s house. Along the way, whom should he meet but a 90 cm long block of muscle wrapped in a loosely fitting two-toned grey pelt.

 

“Hullo,” said Winnie, the bear with very little brain. “I am Winnie the Pooh. I’ve not seen you around here before. Who are you?”

 

“I’m a honey badger.” 

 

Winnie was everso exited. “A hunny badger! ” he exclaimed. A badger made of hunny? Hunny is my very favourite thing. I am going to see if you taste of hunny.”

 

“I don’t think so, pal!”

 

Chapter 8. In which Piglet and Roo stumble into a scene of unimaginable slaughter.

 

Chapter 9. In which Eeyore hits the anti-depressants pretty hard.

 

Chapter 10. In which Christopher Robin gets a new best friend. 

 

If Winnie the Pooh met a honey badger – it would not go well for the bear with very little brain. Honey Badger could take on Winnie, Tigger, Eeyore and the heffalump with one arm tied behind its back. Christopher Robin would need more than a couple of plasters and a visit to nursey in sick bay. 

 

 

I shall not be trying to take a honey badger home in my bag, but there were a number of other animals we saw that looked like they would have made awesome pets. 

 

The usual patten of the day was to drive from 5.30 am to about 11.30 am, stopping somewhere to cook a breakfast. Then return to camp and rest during the worst heat of the day and head out again about 3 til 6.30 when the camp gates close. A braai for supper and then hit the hay between 8 and 9 pm. 

 

It’s an exhausting, but exhilarating way to see animals in the wild.