Creature comforts
Jonathan Ray goes on a safari tailor-made for softies
Iwas in the middle of planning a trip to the Western Cape wine-lands of South Africa when I ran into my friend and neighbour Will Jones. As the owner of a highly successful tour operator specialising in bespoke trips to Africa, it turned out that he, too, was off to South Africa, to check out some lodges and hotels, and to enjoy a few days’ safari. We had a eureka moment and decided to travel together. Will is rather rugged and outdoorsy and, although I like to think that I’m as hard as nails, my nearest and dearest know that I couldn’t be less so. I must therefore admit that I’m squeamish in the extreme, and one of the reasons I’ve never been on safari before is that I have an overwhelming dislike of bugs, creepy-crawlies, mites that bite and things with wings that sting. I won’t sleep outdoors, I can’t survive without hot and cold running water, and a mini-bar is mandatory. Oh, and a cup of Earl Grey with my wake-up call, please. ‘Fret not, old chum,’ said Will. ‘It will be luxury all the way, and I promise I’ll check your bath regularly for spiders.’ What a gent.
And he wasn’t kidding — Bushman’s Kloof in the Cederbergs was my cup of tea all right. An oasis of manicured lawns, infinity pools and whitewashed thatched lodges and cottages in the heart of a barren, windsculpted landscape of sandstone rock, the place does luxury with a capital ‘L’. My suite was larger than my home and boasted its own private swimming-pool.
I immediately treated myself to a terrific massage at the swanky spa. The masseuse gave me a sound pummelling, and in my alltime massage league table I placed it second only to the epic I had at Spa Caudalie in Bordeaux, where I was smeared all over, all over, in warm honey by a Carole Bouquet lookalike and then wrapped in clingfilm. I know, I can still scarcely believe it myself. Remind me to tell you about it sometime.
As medical officer on our trip, I prescribed the same treatment for Will, and after dining under the stars like kings (with a sevencourse dinner) we both slept like babies. This was just as well, as we were woken at 6 a.m. (with a cup of Earl Grey) by one of the guides for a short trek across the desolate terrain to view some ancient rock art before it got too hot. Painted on overhanging cliffs and outcrops by San Bushmen during the Stone Age, these simple paintings of hunters, elephants, antelope and mythical animals are exquisitely executed in yellow ochre, blood and eggshell. It’s astonishing how they’ve survived. They are so primitive that they look modern and are a remarkable reminder of South Africa’s earliest inhabitants. It was well worth the early start.
A day of idleness followed, spent simply enjoying the emptiness and the silence while not holding back on the food and drink. We signed up for the stargazing after dinner, but to be quite frank I found it hard to focus after our third bottle and gave up, leaving Will to it. ‘But look at all these pretty little shooting stars,’ he slurred dreamily. Bless him. I later learnt that they escorted him back to his suite after he became convinced that Orion’s Belt was moving en masse across the heavens.
Next day we headed back to Cape Town and took a flight to the tiny airport of Nelspruit. We were off to the Kruger National Park — some 20,000 square kilometres of pristine Africa — and, as instructed, I had already nervously taken my antimalaria tablet. Will started winding me up about the dangers of the tsetse fly and, as if this wasn’t enough to get me anxious, the size of our next plane was. A go-kart on wheels, it somehow stayed aloft long enough to get us to the tiny grass strip that passes for an airfield deep in the scrub of the Kruger. We were then officially on safari. During our half-hour drive to Singita Sweni Lodge we saw giraffe, zebra, impala, wildebeest and countless gorgeously plumed birds. It was amazing. Will and Leonard, our driver, spotted the creatures long before I did and I became quite annoyed at having to have things pointed out to me. At one point, they both courteously looked away as an impala strolled in front of the car, allowing me to holler with delight.
We arrived at Singita Sweni Lodge to be greeted by a sign at the entrance warning of poisonous snakes and malaria. Gulp. The lodge itself was an immaculate modern wood and glass structure overlooking the Sweni River, complete with verandas and wicker furniture and, I was relieved to see, a wellstocked bar. My room was a hundred yards or so from the main lodge and I was escorted there and back, since there was nothing to separate us from the wildlife. There were unfamiliar sounds all around and something scuttled under the wooden walkway as we approached. This was all a bit too much derring-do for me. In an effort to compose myself, I leant on the railing gazing at the river until I realised that an enormous crocodile, no more than 20 feet away, was gazing right back.
It took a very stiff vodka before Will could persuade me to join him on the evening game drive. Our two guides, Johnson and Shepherd, took us deep into the savannah in the lodge’s Land-Rover. With a gorgeous sunset as a backdrop, we saw birds I didn’t know the name of, water buck, kudu, rhino, elephant and, jaw-droppingly, three lionesses with a pride of 14 cubs which walked languidly alongside our car for many minutes. We then stopped under the stars for a drink and listened to the night sounds and watched the dancing fireflies. And it suddenly hit me. I was in Africa.
Back to the lodge for a fantastic dinner complete with wines we chose ourselves from the temperature-controlled cellar. Needless to say, I couldn’t sleep. The spider in the loo put paid to that. And the thought of the hungry croc over the river. I managed to shave only half my face in the morning, as I saw a pinkygreyish thing slithering up behind the mosquito net. A snake. This was way too hardcore for me, but by the time I’d yelled for help it had disappeared, leaving me shaking but embarrassed and Will convulsed with laughter.
Later that morning we drove to Singita Boulders Lodge further to the west and — I was getting blasé now — saw velvet monkeys, baboons, hippo, rhino, warthogs, zebra, giraffe, impala, kudu, storks and geese en route. If anything, Boulders was even more swish than Sweni: all polished stone, reclaimed wood, a plunge pool in every room and, reputedly, the finest cellar in all South Africa. The highlight of the game drive that night was falling in with a pride of five bachelor lions. We followed them for about an hour in the darkness, our guide picking them out — they were quite unperturbed — with his spotlight. At one point they turned round and strolled back towards the Land-Rover. I’ll never forget the moment I felt their hot breath on our arms as they loped gently past. It made even Will gasp. I come from the fluffy-white-towel-androom-service school of travel, whereas Will favours the ****-in-the-woods-and-showerwhen-I-get-home approach. Luckily for me, there was plenty of the former and none of the latter, and I can’t wait to go back.
Jonathan Ray travelled with Journeys By Design (www.journeyskydesign.com). Tel: 01273 623 790.
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