One of the reasons why we chose to travel in this region of Africa was the animals which we could observe here in their natural habitat. We all know them quite well: the zebras, giraffes, rhinos, antelopes, elephants and, of course, the king of the savanna, the lion. We know them from our zoos in Europe, documentaries on TV or – as stupid as it may sound – from Disney’s “The Lion King.”
However, none of these approaches come close to what you see and feel there, out in the wilderness, where you can admire the animals as free living creatures.
To be honest, our first safari was not anything very advanced or hardcore; it consisted in a simple day-trip with other fellow travelers to Addo National Park and we were mainly sitting in a car. So do not imagine us disguised in khaki-coloured clothes with a leather hat on the head walking for hours through the bush. We were merely sitting on our butts, having our eyes open – and eventually our mouths would stay open, as well, when we would spot the first animals.
As we drive through the park, I get restless and cannot stop looking from left to right (and quickly to the left again, because I could have missed something on the other side!) and hoping something would move or contrast with the green bushes around us.
“Today you are really lucky if you get to see an elephant. They don’t like the rain and so they might be hiding under the trees.”
These words from our ranger let my enthusiasm shatter into pieces for a short moment. I understand the elephants’ clever behavior, but still, there were over 450 of them in the whole park – how could they possibly ALL hide from us (especially with their size!)?
A few minutes later, we spot three lonely buffalos; old males that were rejected from their group because of their age. These huge animals do not care for the rain; on the contrary, they seem rather glad because the grass (after a three months of dry season) finally looks deliciously green.
With this first sight of an animal, the adrenalin in my body starts spreading and I cannot sit still anymore. Luckily, we soon get to see elephants! A mother, accompanied by her adolescent and her baby child, is ripping leaves from a tree. The baby is almost entirely hidden by the trees, but we have a nice view of the bigger ones who move slowly from one branch to the next. Personally, I just watch them, then observe more closely with my binoculars and just absorb this sight: these huge animals standing there, graciously and calmly, eating; and not caring a bit about these small human beings in their car who are eager to take a photograph of them. “Click, click” it
sounds around me – I am the only one who does not take pictures; I can enjoy every moment with my own eyes and do not have to worry about cameras (and yet, I will have lovely pictures later on – the advantage of having my personal photographer with me. Thank you, José!)
After the animals vanish in the bushes, our car moves deeper into the park. I urge the driver to stop because I saw warthogs between the leaves. “You saw what?!” the girl next to me asks and then: “Ah it’s Pumba. It’s a Pumba!” – See, that’s why “The Lion King” is crucial for our knowledge!
Later in the morning, we are again at the right moment at the right place (this is what wildlife watching is about, after all): a group of eight elephants walks across the plain towards our car. We see a small fellow walking, or rather stumbling (because its feet seem to big for its body), behind its mother. As they cross the dirt road right behind our car, we detect an even smaller infant behind another big female elephant. They turn to approach a puddle of mud and water where they quench their thirst. From behind the bushes, secretly waiting for them, an enormous male elephant with impressive tusks joins the group. Our ranger tells us that the male hides out there the whole day through, waiting for the females to appear.
As they drink, the small ones are positioned in the middle of the troop so that they are sheltered from the huge elephants (or other dangerous animals) who might accidentally scrunch the young animals. The little ones only play with the water and then turn to feed from their mothers’ breasts. Meanwhile, the male caresses the mother’s back with its trump, and the latter starts moving, which makes the little one protest loudly, as it can only drink when the mother stands still… When everybody has had enough, they leave again, showing us their huge backs as they amble away to vanish into the bushes. The male, needless to say, returns to his hide-out to wait for the next females to arrive.
This whole spectacle was not only “cute” and “cool” (as the whole bus would say later) but, to me, deeply touching. So, we will certainly go on other safaris in Botswana and Namibia; maybe we will see even more animals or go further out in the wilderness – but I think it will always be this very first experience in Addo, that will stay deepest in my heart.