Kruger National Park, Day 1

Truth to tell, I WAS a little nervous setting out on my own this morning. I was driving a strange car—manual transmission, which I hadn’t done in quite some time—in a strange city at rush hour, heading off in a foreign country (on the left side of the road) for a place I HAD been before but not for many years. 

The transmission was not a significant problem although I did stall the car at a toll booth. Keeping left is not a problem when there are other cars on the road, driving on the left to remind you. Besides, the steering wheel is on the right. The bigger problem is remembering that the turn signal is on the right. I needed a bumper sticker to tell other drivers that when I flashed my windshield wipers, that was my way of telling them I planned to turn or change lanes. GPS directed me out of Pretoria, but it took me around a traffic jam and left me needing to turn right on a busy street without a light. (If turning right doesn’t sound like a problem to you, remember that I am driving on the left.) I turned left instead, hoping to hit the N4 without getting on the N1, but eventually GPS showed me a place to get on the N1 at a light. Once I had gotten on the N4, I turned off GPS since I had forgotten to bring a car charger for my phone, and I knew I would need it later.

Three hours of driving through the African countryside, singing praise songs (since I couldn’t listen to music or an audiobook without running down my battery). At first it was expressway through rolling golden grasslands. Then it was three lanes (an extra lane for the side that is climbing) through hills that got more and more spectacular as I descended the escarpment. Eventually, I reached Nelspruit, where Katie came monthly for orthodontist in 1990. Road signs directed me to White River, so I didn’t need my GPS. In White River I happened on a sign for Kruger National Park, but I ended up going around the block looking for a grocery. It turned out to be a pretty African grocery that didn’t have the “braai pack” I was hoping for—one package with a lamb chop, a pork rasher, a minute steak and a couple boerwors (local sausage). I got a couple steaks and a small portion of pork rashers and figured it was cheaper than a restaurant. I had made a list so I wouldn’t forget matches and charcoal. Got a nice package of salad greens.

By then I was turned around enough to want GPS to set me on the right road, but once I saw signs for Numbi Gate, I turned it off.

Those of you who have never been to Africa, would have been fascinated by my route through a heavily populated area that must have once been a tribal homeland in the apartheid days—scattered houses on small farms with lots of small shops, gas stations, etc. lining the main road, taxis hooting as they look for customers, kids in school uniforms hitch-hiking. People everywhere. Speed bumps every block. It seemed like just as I got going enough to shift into fourth gear (out of 6), I had to slow down for a speed bump.

About 50 minutes later, I turned off for the gate. I’m staying at Pretoriaskop Rest Camp, but in the 9 km from the gate I saw giraffe, zebra, and a lone gemsbok.

My hut is tiny and basic. It has a sink, but otherwise I must use an ablutions block 50 yds away. There is a refrigerator—the only outlet in the room. I unplugged it to charge my computer and phone.

I couldn’t get in the room until 2 even though it was cleaned and ready, so I parked and walked around. Found the swimming pool, which I remembered from the 1980s. Somewhere I have a picture of my girls in this spot. The water runs over the rocks down to an unheated (and therefore too cold for swimming in winter which it is in the southern hemisphere) pool.

At 3:30 I went out to view game.

I was aiming to be back to camp by 6. Fortunately, I got back about 5:25. Turns out the gate closes at 5:30 at this time of year.

Dinner was steak, pork rasher (thick bacon) and salad by my grill while listening to The Power of One on my earphones. Afterwards I went for a walk (still listening), hoping to get away from the light pollution of cooking fires and windows to better see the stars, but the pool area (the most remote spot) was locked. It didn’t really matter because I realized the half moon was pollution enough to leave only the brightest stars showing. I DID find the Southern Cross, which can’t be seen from Wisconsin.