“I could feel my cell phone vibrating in my pocket as we travelled from Chief Dawid Stuurman International Airport in Gqeberha to Lalibela Game Reserve. I read the message waiting for me: Loadshedding in 55 minutes. Not for me, I smugly thought, because where the road and our driver, Alan, were taking us, we’d be safe from it, at least for the next two days,” writes Megan Paulse.
ALSO SEE: How to find quality luggage that will last you years
Alan showed us various areas of interest on our one-hour drive on the N2. One of them was the salt pans in Nelson Mandela Bay, which I had thought looked like a lipstick palette of pinks and browns from the aeroplane window just moments before. We passed various other game reserves en route and, as luck would have it, saw some of the parks’ wildlife.
Before long, Alan indicated left, and we turned off the smooth, tarred road onto rougher terrain, a sign of things to come. Another turn, and we were at the gates of Kichaka Luxury Game Lodge. On our way to the reception, Alan told us that a week earlier, the lodge’s reception staff had been unable to get into the offices as some of the local wildebeest had decided the shaded area in front of the entrance was the perfect spot to relax – a story repeated to us by Sam, the friendly receptionist, upon her welcome before settling us into a game vehicle with Ruan, our guide.
Ruan had a story, too, about a cheetah spotted on the side of the road a few metres from the reception area. The couple accompanying him were so scared that instead of admiring the magnificent animal’s beauty, they insisted on heading straight to the lodge. That made me chuckle. Seeing these animals in the wild was why they were there! I silently hoped the cheetah would be a part of our welcoming committee, but, having not received a warm welcome from the previous couple it’d ‘greeted’, it appeared to have kept its distance.
We returned to the lodge’s lush oasis, where Jamee, the manager on duty, greeted us with a warm smile and warming welcome drinks, then took us on a whistle-stop tour of Kichaka. She led us into the expanse of the large living area adjoining a bar on the left and dining room to the right. But straight ahead, through massive glass doors, was an attention-grabbing deck where, weather permitting, you could enjoy meals or drinks overlooking the pool. Beyond that, a dam, home to a bloat of hippos.
‘When we reopened after Covid, we found some smaller hippos in the pool,’ said Jamee. ‘They had made themselves very comfortable while we were away!’
We walked to our rooms, but these jaw-dropping spaces, views and king-size beds would need to wait until we returned from our first game drive. We headed into the reserve with Ruan and Irish honeymooners who were spending the last of their holiday at Lalibela. By the time we joined them, they had been on four game drives in the reserve and had seen everything they had hoped for except the black rhino. It was a tough ask, but Ruan was determined to find them. Alas, it wasn’t meant to be. Still, it wasn’t a bad drive despite the rain that seemed to have followed us from Cape Town.
We spotted lions, giraffes, wildebeest, zebras and antelopes despite the drizzle that soon turned into a downpour. Thankfully, the lodge provides guests with fleece-lined, waterproof ponchos on every game drive.
As the sun set on our first night at Lalibela, we returned to Kichaka to sit around a roaring fire as the rain continued to pour outside. After a hot shower in the most luxurious bathroom I’ve ever set foot in, I indulged in the first of the weekend’s three-course dinners in front of another roaring fire, this time in the library upstairs, while watching an Ireland rugby match at the newly-weds’ request. Our bellies full, we returned to our rooms along a tree-lined walkway, sheltering from the rain beneath the umbrellas the lodge had provided.
The hippo calls lulled us to sleep. The following morning, I woke up before my alarm, even Ruan’s 5 am wake-up call. I dressed hastily, downed a coffee in the bar, and we were off on a second game drive, the air still nippy from the previous night’s rainfall. We hoped the animals would be out and about despite the bad weather. We stopped when we saw a herd of wildebeest walking across the plains quietly passing our vehicle, seemingly unperturbed by our presence.
While finding a pleasant spot to drink coffee, Ruan stopped to look at the elephants’ tracks. ‘We’ll be able to spot them later today,’ he said. ‘They’ll have left the valley by then.’ His radio suddenly crackled, and he said, ‘There’s been a cool sighting. We need to move fast in case we miss it but I won’t tell you what it is just yet.’
We hightailed it down dirt roads, past animals starting their day as we were. ‘The mafazi (mother) looks like she is getting ready to move,’ I heard on the radio. Ruan picked up the pace while still safely navigating the terrain. ‘Almost there,’ he announced excitedly. Then, we saw another game vehicle in the distance, and as Ruan stilled ours, we understood his haste and excitement: before us, four cheetah cubs, barely six months old, were playing tug of war with the pelt of an animal that might’ve been dinner. Their mother watched them from a short distance.
‘This mom has been challenging to track,’ he explained. ‘Predators killed her first litter, so she has been more protective of this one. She’s kept moving to keep them safe,’ he explained. After a while, we left the mother and her cubs and headed back to the lodge for breakfast and a much-needed visit to the spa after the recent ‘bush massages’ we’d had. As the therapists worked their magic, I drifted into the Land of Nod.
Well rested, we set out on another game drive to find elephants. Suddenly, out of a thicket appeared a mother elephant and her calf crossed our path. Far too quickly, they disappeared, and we were off again to an area Ruan assured us the herd would usually be at that time of day.
As he’d promised, we found them: a herd of elephants, led by the matriarch, followed by playful calves attempting to gain control of their trunks, and then two teenage males bringing up the rear. We watched, awe-struck, as the teenagers locked horns. ‘They’re practising,’ said Ruan. ‘But they’re doing it behind the matriarch’s back because she doesn’t seem to be in the mood for their antics today.’ He explained that an older elephant bull in musth (heightened sexual behaviour) had been following the matriarch and she seemed to have had enough of him. Those teens are wise to hang back, then, I thought with a silent chuckle.
We spent the rest of our game drive following the herd through the reserve’s hills and valleys. Far too soon, it was time to head back for one last night at the oasis we had called home. Our return transfer to Gqeberha arrived early the following morning. Memories of what we had seen and experienced had made us sure Lalibela was a special place that we’d return to.
This article was originally published in a print issue of Woman&Home SA.
ALSO SEE:
Images: Woman&Home / Megan Paulse
