Adrian and Rentia arrived at Addo Elephant Park just as we were pulling in – not bad timing considering they drove from one side of this huge country and we drove from the other. What a joy to see them! We’d said goodbye in Cape Town 17 months ago, and now here we are together again; a pinnacle has been reached. Adrian made the reservations, booking us into the main camp for two nights, then off to bush camps for the last two nights. There is so much to talk about. Four days will not suffice, but it will have to do.
Addo Elephant Park is a haven for the great beasts and the usual suspects in an African game park, with a couple of exceptions. Addo boast the “Big Seven” as opposed to the Big Five – the designation given to those animals most difficult to hunt on foot, namely elephant, buffalo, rhino, lion and leopard. So who are the other two animals that account for the Big Seven? It isn’t monkeys or baboons although there are plenty o
f those. Addo Park encompasses a portion of the Indian Ocean and guess what swims right into the park – whales and white sharks. Clever, right? The big seven. I think whales and the white shark fit the billing – who’d hunt them on foot anyway?
The four of us (the Big Four) enjoyed what Addo main camp had to offer and for many it is the only camp they visit. By contrast, Mvumu camp is one of the bush camps and while it does not boast large predators and elephant, the camp is remote and rarely used. There was an ingenious parafin-heated hot water 
shower (a dribble really, not a “shower”) and a bird hide – what more do you need? The road was not sedan-friendly. In fact it was healthy to have two vehicles traveling together, not that anything went wrong. Stream crossings, crazy steep and narrow mountain passes, rocky roadbeds – all in a day’s work for the two Toyotas.
From Mvumu the track led us (slowly and cautiously) over the mountains through the biome known as the Avery Thicket, past giant ancient cycad trees and tiny cacti, and on to the seldom-used Darlington Dam campsite. The gate guard told us to be aware, there are three lion around, he said, but no one knows exactly where they are. When we heard a mournful hooting call we at first assumed it was the cats, but it turned out 
to be a male ostrich. They make an deep-toned, drawn out hoot – at Marakele Park they hooted right next to us and yes, it is loud. So next time you are sleeping in an unfenced camp miles away from anywhere and you think you hear lion roaring, just tell yourself it is an ostrich. Happy dreams!
Adrian and Rentia are embarking on a three-month self drive trip beginning this fall, and with all that to plan for, plus work in general – well, it was incredibly generous of them to take the time to come all the way to Addo just to camp with us. Our reunion was at once both joyous and bittersweet, for none of us know when we will see each other again. Not ones for long drawn-out goodbyes, we simply left it at “when we meet again”. Adrian and Rentia are so special, best friends worth seeking out any time, any where. We will see them again.
Who is Monte? Where is his favorite place? Why’s it so special? To find 
out, at 6am we took off on our third guided game drive in the unique Gorongosa National Park. After stalling around Zimbabwe (yes, stalling around. . . hiking, birding, relaxing) it was time to give Gorongosa another shot. We hope for dry roads, maybe some good game sightings, some birds. . .
Gorongosa is different. You’ve probably read that animals were decimated by the long civil war, that restoration efforts are on-going and that fighting flares up 
from time to time, creating a tense atmosphere and yes, these things are true. What is not touted loudly enough is
how exceptionally beautiful the park is; how the flora is pristine, the trees huge and the bottom land is untouched by farms or cattle ranches. This is a park suspended in time. We’ve seen nothing like this anywhere.
With nearly a clean slate, a couple of decades of research, and lots and lots of money, 
Gorongosa has begun the return to its prime. Many people are involved. Mozambican graduate students are here, doing surveys and learning from the cream of the crop of professors and teachers leading the education platform. Rangers and guides are training here. There is a state-of-the-art biological laboratory and plant library plus
a molecular laboratory. The park is conducting anthropological digs; with its location at the lower end of the Great Rift, there are likely hominid fossil remains waiting to be discovered by some hardworking (lucky) person. Locally, the park spent 10 years determining the best way to involve the villagers and another 10 years implementing a coffee growing/tree planting scheme for them. It is paying off for everyone. 
That said, the average tourist is most welcome. Self-driving is not allowed but seeing this park 
with a trained guide is the way to go and drives are very affordable. Test and Tongo escorted us the first morning and in a few hours taught us so much about the trees and plants I thought my head would explode. That’s not even counting the fascinating animal facts and game sightings including an oribi antelope and a mating pair of porcupine (yes, we all know the joke). On the evening drive, beneath the stunning sunset
, a hippo gave new meaning to the saying “throwing his weight around” as he challenged us for our spot on the riverbank. Then in the morning Monte took over guiding. And he really iced the cake.
After weaving through the sun forest and stopping for several excellent sightings, we drove up to the edge of the floodplain and were rendered speechless. In front of us is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. Monte smiles shyly. “This is my favorite place” he says. It is mine too. Endless plains of grass, flowers, water – all of it teeming with birds. Birds, birds and more birds. There are flocks of egrets, ducks, geese, 
heron, storks of every kind, stilts, pelicans, ibis, songbirds, lapwings, raptors, darters . . . everywhere you look, in the 
sky or on the ground, there are birds. Waterbuck and cape buffalo graze in the distance. Mount Gorongosa is a hazy grey landmark rising over the plain. I never want to leave. Monte tells me that I’d hate it in the rainy season. Maybe. Meanwhile we are enjoying it now, thanks to the monumental effort to restore and preserve Gorongosa.
Recent Comments