It had already been a long day of air travel (four hours from Mauritius to Johannesburg, a two-hour layover in Joburg's sleepy local terminal, another 40-minute flight from Joburg) when we touched down at Kruger. The landing was an adventure in itself; don't look out the window if you're a nervous flyer. Nelspruit Airport sits on a flat plateau high above the town of Kruger. Beyond the end of the airstrip is what looks like some impressive cliffs down which an over-shooting plane could tumble. Our landing was smooth, however, despite the recent cool front and clouds heavy with rain. It wasn't the weather I'd been expecting.The airport, however, left no doubt we were in the African bush. It looks like a big game lodge, thatched and cozy with just a single long atrium for arrivals, departures and a cafe. There was nobody to meet us on arrival so Piers went wandering to try to find our rep from Odie Air. Soon one of the locals offered to call her (Odie, it turns out, is a woman and a company) and we were told to sit tight, the plane was on its way. Not long after, our pilot James turned up, grabbed our luggage, took us back through security and onto the tarmac. His plane was a six-seat Cessna, and we were the only passengers.
If I'd been excited before, I was now at fever pitch. This was a real "Out of Africa" moment, leaving the airstrip in a tiny plane and flying so low as we headed into the bush. From this perspective you can see the web of game trails, criss-crossing the bush like a network of nerves, veins and arteries with the occasional human road intersecting them. The landscape, which looks a dull brown on first glance, is actually a wonder of subtlety, with a rich variety of pale greens, tans, golds, browns and blacks. Our route took us over Kruger National Park, mostly a vast, flat expanse, with drama added by the odd river (mostly dry beds at this, the end of the dry season) or towering plateau. Nearing our game lodge, James pointed to the dirt airstrip running up a gentle hill between the leafless trees. He couldn't speak over the noise of the propeller, but I remembered his grin back at Kruger when he'd said "this is as tough of a bush landing as you get!"
We were on our way in, got close to the ground, then pulled up and circled again. I realised James was buzzing the runway to clear it of warthog and giraffe. Animals pushed back, we came in again for a landing that was gentler than many a jumbo jet on smooth tarmac. Just a stone's throw from the plane's stopping point sat one of the game lodge's trucks, and next to it our tracker, Rodney. Tall and slim, kitted out in classic bush khaki, with skin the tone of black velvet, a musical accent and a grace of movement shared with the local wildlife. He bundled us in the truck and drove us a scant 300 yards to the lodge entry, where the manager pressed glasses of champagne into our hands and told us it was time to move fast. Afternoon game drive was leaving now. Grab warm clothes and your camera, tell us what you want for sundowners (cocktails as the sun sets) and scramble aboard.
And thus began the pattern of game drives that would mark our days at Chitwa Chitwa.
5am wakeup call. Throw on clothes. Pile on the layers, as it could be bitterly cold at dawn. But bring the sun protection, as it will be blazing by 8am. Gather on the veranda for coffee before climbing into our game vehicles at 5:30. You're assigned a vehicle when you arrive, with tracker Rodney perched on a seat bolted to the front left corner, and our driver and guide Andreis behind the wheel. Three tiers of seats rise behind the driver, 10 guests at the maximum ... but we never had more than eight. (I sense this is one of the advantages of Chitwa, as vehicles from other lodges looked more crowded.) About half way through the morning drive, our team would find a spot safe from animals, pull over and set up morning coffee, with some baked treat from the kitchen to hold us over until breakfast.
We'd return to the lodge and a hearty breakfast around 9. After which a walking safari is usually available, but not an option on our days due to lions in the area. (Of them, more later.) The hours until the afternoon game drive featured much needed naps, lounging in our luxurious suite, watching the hippos and other wildlife interact at the watering hole and indulging in multiple-course al fresco lunches with matching South African wines poured by Dino, our ever-present bartender who kept us well hydrated, from that first 5am coffee to the last scotch before bed.
At 3:30 pm tribal drums would summon us back to the main lodge for afternoon tea or coffee before the next game drive. Off we'd wander into the late afternoon, taking in abundant views of game until the sun set and Rodney and Andreis pulled over to set up camp for sundowners. After cocktails, we'd drive back to the lodge with the assistance of Rodney's high beam spotlight, which often picked out nocturnal animals. Without the sun, the nights were bracingly cold; we quickly realised the heavy wool blankets in the trucks weren't just decorative. Above, a night sky free of light pollution glimmered, the long smudge of the Milky Way clearly visible while the Southern Cross proclaimed we were most definitely in a strange place.
We'd arrive back at the lodge about 7, now needing to be escorted to and from our rooms. Nobody walked alone after dark, a precaution that ... even if I hadn't seen the sense in it immediately ... would have become logical on our first morning when I could see clear, large feline paw prints in the sand outside our door. After an hour to freshen up and enjoy a cocktail from the all-inclusive mini bar, the drums would sound again and Andreis would materialise out of the darkness to take us to dinner. Up at the main lodge we'd talk with the guides, trackers and other guests, making a comfortable and conversant party of about 25. By 10:30, most people were letting guides take them back to their rooms, ready to slip under the impressive canopies of mosquito netting and get a good night's sleep before it all started again.
And that, quite simply, is what we did for three glorious days. But each day varied, distinguished by the variety of animals, the meals back at the lodge and the arrival and departure of fellow guests. Three nights and six game drives was enough for us to settle into a routine, and perhaps to reach a level of satisfaction, though we certainly never got bored. Next, it's time to talk wildlife.
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