At last

On Saturday/Sunday we drove down to Hluhluwe-Imfolozi Game Reserve. We were accompanied by two other doctors. Having previously stayed on the Hluhluwe side, we had hoped to find accommodation this time in Imfolozi. (The two were once separate parks. For some time they have been joined. However, the landscape is quite different. Imfolozi is flatter and less spectacular but the terrain is more conducive for spotting cats). Arriving just before nightfall at our accommodation in Hilltop (Hluhluwe), Mary enquired about vacancy at Mpila (Imfolozi) and she was thrilled that there was! We accepted their offer of transferring our booking and set off for the other side of the park.

Strictly, only game vehicles are allowed to drive through the park at night. But this was waived for our 50k drive to Mpila. Driving for twenty minutes we spotted a number of hyena. Thus we were completely prepared to see another as we rounded yet another bend. And there it was, walking in the middle of the road. Looking for food.

But then the strangest thing happened. For the hyena turned. And on turning, we did behold a great miracle. For it was not a hyena. But a leopard! Yes a leopard! Definitely a leopard! Orange. With spots. And a white dot on the tail. Smaller than a lion. Not as slender as a cheetah. Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! Feeling great emotion, I wanted to get out the car and kiss this legendary creature. Or at least greet it, formally, ‘Mr Leopard, I presume?’ And then pass on my regards.

Unfortunately, the leopard was in no mood for niceties and quickly returned to his night time exploration.

We followed it for about a minute. Initially, it disappeared into the bush. Then it reappeared and walked a short stretch before disappearing for good. Nevermind. I know I will only wait, perhaps another twelve years for a glimpse.

The rest of our 24 hours in the game park were packed with animal sightings. Having had several extremely hot days, the temperature had suddenly dropped. Predators that had not eaten for several days, were ravenous. Close to our camp, lions and also wild dogs had both had successful killing sprees (we saw the lions; we missed the wild dogs as they had been chased away by hyenas). Both sites attracted huge numbers of vultures – fighting each other for any available scraps. In addition to the carnivores, we saw buffalo, rhino, elephants and much more.

Still without our car, we drove round the park in our borrowed Mercedes. And we got to enjoy all its quirks. A light spell of rain revealed the windscreen wipers did not work. We also learnt that the electric windows functioned only when I opened my car door. And sometimes they would not close. But why would we need windscreen wipers and windows on this glorious day?

Driving home, we got our answer. Reaching Jozini at 1700, 70ish kms from home, the heavens suddenly opened.

Immediately, I pulled off the road. Parking one wheel in a ditch. There we could wait for the rain to pass.

But after half an hour it was clear the rain was not going to pass. Worse, the previously empty ditch was now a metre under water. Fortunately, we managed to get the car back onto the road (two of the wheels were still on tarmac so had good traction).

Now we were in the middle of a narrow road. Our hazard lights were working. But we became a challenging obstacle for a drunk Zulu driver.

My initial suggestion was that we call a friend from the hospital to come and collect the three doctors. I would then stay with the car and drive it back when the rain stopped. I realised that I might be there until morning. But I had a book and food. And I was fearful that the car might be treated as loot.

Once our friend had arrived, the plan changed. Outvoted on my ‘sit-tight’ proposal, all the others felt that we should drive slowly back to Mosvold in convoy.

And so began another truly African experience. With the rain pouring down, I could still see nothing through the windscreen. But by opening the window and leaning out I could drive slowly and see the road, potholes, cows and other drivers.

There is definitely a technique to driving with your head out the window in the rain. And slowly, I discovered it. The heaviness of the rain fluctuated quite a lot as we began to drive. And at times it whipped into my eyes. But, once I had formed an effective visor with my left hand, and got my eye in, I was able to drive at 40-50 kms.

Though the journey was still very slow, it was also exciting. We had little celebratory snacks as we reached different landmarks (although eating biscuits without removing my visor added extra challenge). And, with my head out of the window, I could keep a good eye on road life. Imagine my joy, then, when I got a particularly fine sight of a long bright green snake crossing close to the car. My best sighting so far.

The final part of the journey was particularly interesting – up narrow windy mountain roads in thick fog. Thankfully there was little else on the road, so we could keep a reassuring distance from the drops.

And so, after a couple of hours of ‘head out of window’ driving we reached home.