After a solid breakfast of sausage, mushrooms, bacon and eggs (no fried tomato nor veggies… this is my kinda place!) I set off for Letaba camp, where I was to have lunch. A short way after the entrance, I made a left turn to go north on a bumpy side road. I drove and drove and drove, but nothing was to be seen, except for the ubiquitous impalas, of course.
I had almost given up when I suddenly spotted a huge ellie to my left; I had almost passed him, they're that difficult to spot even though they're giants. He was busy doing absolutely nothing, so I grabbed the opportunity to stop and take a couple of pics. After a few seconds he grew agitated, but I soon realized he wasn't angry with me. Some piece of grass had caught his attention and now he was busy stomping the hell out of it; he didn't so much as glance in my direction.
Ellie standing perfectly at ease.
Ellie giving me the "You lookin' at me?"-look.
A little farther down the road I saw another ellie at a waterhole and when I hit the main, paved road, I watched (and heard) a small family cheerfully molesting every plant they could lay their trunks on. The sad fact of the matter is that in some areas, Kruger simply has too many elephants. The vegetation can't cope with the constant onslaught of too many pachyderms, so it dies off.
Sometimes you gotta reach even if you're big. Like, really HUGE.
"Ahhhh, got the water"
Video of the ellie family cheerfully molesting the local vegetation.
A teeny tiny ellie baby.
Sho, sho cute.
I took a few more detours down dusty side roads, but there was little action; I did see about a dozen hippos frolicking in an artificial dam, and a wildebeest nearly ran into the road in front of me, but quickly decided otherwise as a ton of metal & blubber bore down on him. I settled in for lunch at Letaba and had fun watching a blue starling skid around on a slippery table, picking up the crumbs from the previous customer.
Video of frolicking hippos.
Picture of frolicking hippos.
They look so peaceful... and they are, right up until the moment they'll trample & maul you for coming too close to their babies.
Arty-farty picture of trees reflected on a still lake.
Blue starling on ice.
Lunch was a very good bacon & beef burger. While devouring it, I watched a small group of zebras bullying a couple of impalas. They left a large plume of dust in their wake and were at it for some time, so they must have had great fun. I imagine it was somewhat less amusing for the impala. This behavior confirmed what I saw down south last year, when a single zebra'd had great fun in repeatedly chasing some poor impalas away from a watering hole. There's a pattern here: Zebras are assholes, pure and simple. I guess it should be expected, after all the mane of their offspring is almost ginger in color.
After lunch, I went on yet more dusty side roads. The first animal I saw was a herd of waterbuck. They're quite fluffy to look at and especially the young 'uns were very cute. I think they thought they had the riverbank to themselves, because they looked mighty skeptical when I first arrived, but they were soon ignoring me. Later on, I also had some luck; a flock of baboons, a zebra foal, some more hippos and a large herd of giraffes all made an appearance, but the day was sadly devoid of big cats. A stop at a lookout point was rewarded with nice views of the African sunset and I did get in a pic of giraffes contoured against the sky but otherwise nothing.
Waterbucks judging me silently.
Video of waterbucks. Dey be cute.
The boss of the baboon flock was leading his group right outside the gates to Letaba camp. These cheeky little rascals will at times wreak havoc on the guest houses if allowed.
Zebra foal.
These plants are as good looking as they are poisonous. Do not touch!
Giraffes against the sky.
Video of a giraffe crossing the road.
Goofy McGoof.
On the bright side, I managed to save ZAR2.900 (app. $200). As I was checking in at Olifants, I overheard a woman saying to the receptionist that she'd had a Wildcard (the annual card that gives you unlimited access) but had lost it. Could he check her ID and see if he found it? A lightbulb come on over my head. I'd bought a Wildcard in late July last year, but as the rules back then clearly stated that you had to convert your receipt into an actual plastic card within two months and I had forgotten to, I was fully prepared to cough up the cash for a new one. Now, I asked my own receptionist if he could look.
He searched the system for my name, my passport number, perhaps my grandfather's school. Sweet nuffin'. As a last attempt, I told him I'd bought it at Satara Camp in late July. Silence, as he once again asked the great big machine for an answer. Finally, he found the receipt. Even upside down, I could read the numbers, which clearly indicated that I'd bought a card. He nodded and said everything was in order, but as their printer wasn't working properly, I'd have to come back to get a receipt in the morning. O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! I'd like to think my savings corresponded to a new children's school, or perhaps a small hospital wing, but sadly it would probably have gone straight into the ANC's private corruption fund. Most things do nowadays.
A lovely baobab tree. There's a few of them this far north.
Later, I had a highly forgettable African venison stew for dinner. It had some kind of unpronounceable Afrikaaner name and was as inedible, but the evening was saved when I ordered Cape Malva pudding for dessert. It turned out to be some kind of sweet bread pudding with yummy ice cream, almost as soft and fluffy as my beloved soft-serve.
Belly full, I tucked in for the night. Or so I thought. However, my Kraut neighbors had other plans. They were talking loudly, playing music, making noise with cutlery and bottles and generally being a nuisance as I lay trying to sleep, having taken half a pill of Zopiclone. The clock was ticking ever closer to the camp-wide cut off at 10PM*, when I was ready to get out and give them a real seeing to. But they wouldn't even give me that satisfaction. Right before 10, the music stopped, and I heard them packing away their stuff. At 10:01PM you could have heard a pin drop outside. Krauts; sore losers since 1945.
*[The camp-wide all-quiet policy does in fact begin at 9:30, so I could have cussed them out anyway. Verdamt!]
I had almost given up when I suddenly spotted a huge ellie to my left; I had almost passed him, they're that difficult to spot even though they're giants. He was busy doing absolutely nothing, so I grabbed the opportunity to stop and take a couple of pics. After a few seconds he grew agitated, but I soon realized he wasn't angry with me. Some piece of grass had caught his attention and now he was busy stomping the hell out of it; he didn't so much as glance in my direction.
Ellie standing perfectly at ease.
Ellie giving me the "You lookin' at me?"-look.
A little farther down the road I saw another ellie at a waterhole and when I hit the main, paved road, I watched (and heard) a small family cheerfully molesting every plant they could lay their trunks on. The sad fact of the matter is that in some areas, Kruger simply has too many elephants. The vegetation can't cope with the constant onslaught of too many pachyderms, so it dies off.
Sometimes you gotta reach even if you're big. Like, really HUGE.
"Ahhhh, got the water"
Video of the ellie family cheerfully molesting the local vegetation.
A teeny tiny ellie baby.
Sho, sho cute.
I took a few more detours down dusty side roads, but there was little action; I did see about a dozen hippos frolicking in an artificial dam, and a wildebeest nearly ran into the road in front of me, but quickly decided otherwise as a ton of metal & blubber bore down on him. I settled in for lunch at Letaba and had fun watching a blue starling skid around on a slippery table, picking up the crumbs from the previous customer.
Video of frolicking hippos.
Picture of frolicking hippos.
They look so peaceful... and they are, right up until the moment they'll trample & maul you for coming too close to their babies.
Arty-farty picture of trees reflected on a still lake.
Blue starling on ice.
Lunch was a very good bacon & beef burger. While devouring it, I watched a small group of zebras bullying a couple of impalas. They left a large plume of dust in their wake and were at it for some time, so they must have had great fun. I imagine it was somewhat less amusing for the impala. This behavior confirmed what I saw down south last year, when a single zebra'd had great fun in repeatedly chasing some poor impalas away from a watering hole. There's a pattern here: Zebras are assholes, pure and simple. I guess it should be expected, after all the mane of their offspring is almost ginger in color.
After lunch, I went on yet more dusty side roads. The first animal I saw was a herd of waterbuck. They're quite fluffy to look at and especially the young 'uns were very cute. I think they thought they had the riverbank to themselves, because they looked mighty skeptical when I first arrived, but they were soon ignoring me. Later on, I also had some luck; a flock of baboons, a zebra foal, some more hippos and a large herd of giraffes all made an appearance, but the day was sadly devoid of big cats. A stop at a lookout point was rewarded with nice views of the African sunset and I did get in a pic of giraffes contoured against the sky but otherwise nothing.
Waterbucks judging me silently.
Video of waterbucks. Dey be cute.
The boss of the baboon flock was leading his group right outside the gates to Letaba camp. These cheeky little rascals will at times wreak havoc on the guest houses if allowed.
Zebra foal.
These plants are as good looking as they are poisonous. Do not touch!
Giraffes against the sky.
Video of a giraffe crossing the road.
Goofy McGoof.
On the bright side, I managed to save ZAR2.900 (app. $200). As I was checking in at Olifants, I overheard a woman saying to the receptionist that she'd had a Wildcard (the annual card that gives you unlimited access) but had lost it. Could he check her ID and see if he found it? A lightbulb come on over my head. I'd bought a Wildcard in late July last year, but as the rules back then clearly stated that you had to convert your receipt into an actual plastic card within two months and I had forgotten to, I was fully prepared to cough up the cash for a new one. Now, I asked my own receptionist if he could look.
He searched the system for my name, my passport number, perhaps my grandfather's school. Sweet nuffin'. As a last attempt, I told him I'd bought it at Satara Camp in late July. Silence, as he once again asked the great big machine for an answer. Finally, he found the receipt. Even upside down, I could read the numbers, which clearly indicated that I'd bought a card. He nodded and said everything was in order, but as their printer wasn't working properly, I'd have to come back to get a receipt in the morning. O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! I'd like to think my savings corresponded to a new children's school, or perhaps a small hospital wing, but sadly it would probably have gone straight into the ANC's private corruption fund. Most things do nowadays.
A lovely baobab tree. There's a few of them this far north.
Later, I had a highly forgettable African venison stew for dinner. It had some kind of unpronounceable Afrikaaner name and was as inedible, but the evening was saved when I ordered Cape Malva pudding for dessert. It turned out to be some kind of sweet bread pudding with yummy ice cream, almost as soft and fluffy as my beloved soft-serve.
Belly full, I tucked in for the night. Or so I thought. However, my Kraut neighbors had other plans. They were talking loudly, playing music, making noise with cutlery and bottles and generally being a nuisance as I lay trying to sleep, having taken half a pill of Zopiclone. The clock was ticking ever closer to the camp-wide cut off at 10PM*, when I was ready to get out and give them a real seeing to. But they wouldn't even give me that satisfaction. Right before 10, the music stopped, and I heard them packing away their stuff. At 10:01PM you could have heard a pin drop outside. Krauts; sore losers since 1945.
*[The camp-wide all-quiet policy does in fact begin at 9:30, so I could have cussed them out anyway. Verdamt!]
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