AME IN THE KALAHARI
T private reserve, where ever more space is being freed up for wildlife
with the lofty summits of the Korannaberg running through it from end to end.
Oppenheimer is also a great believer in the importance of ecotourism. “Without it, cheetahs, lions, black rhinos — all of Africa’s emblematic animals will disappear,” he says, hence the presence of two luxury lodges; the Motse, which can accommodate up to 20 guests, and the smaller Tarkuni. Both are fivestar oases of food and comfort with blissful outdoor pools and sweet-natured staff. But the real luxury of staying here is having your own exclusive vehicle, guide and tracker to explore one of the world’s last wild places with nobody else in sight.
Besides its famous lions, Tswalu’s also has giraffe, two species of zebra and a whole bestiary of antelopes such as eland, kudu and gemsbok, along with smaller animals that are hard to find elsewhere: aardvarks, meerkats, caracals and pangolins.
Add more than 240 kinds of birds including standout species such as the crimson-breasted bush shrike and pygmy falcons — fierce raptors no bigger than a thrush that make their nests in the haystack citadels of sociable weavers.
THE RAINS ON THE PLAINS
By chance I had arrived after a year’s rain had fallen in a week, bringing about a miraculous transformation. Overnight Tswalu had become an emerald desert, lit with the crimson flowers of poison bulb lilies. Rainwater pools still lay across the game trails and flurries of brownveined white butterflies flew up at every step. We drove for miles across the dunes where the land rose and fell like an ocean swell, and every time we climbed a crest a fresh sight awaited us in the valley below. Black-as-midnight sable bulls rose from the grass to stare at us as we passed by. Red hartebeest bounced away with their jaunty rocking-horse gait, and large herds of shy eland cantered off into the distance.
Evidence of rhinos was everywhere in the form of fresh middens and footprints the size of dinner plates, but the animals themselves kept a low profile. Instead we came upon a lioness with seven cubs. “Four of the cubs are hers,” said Rudi. “The others belonged to her sister who died a month ago.”
HOME OF THE SPOTTED SPRINTER
On the way back to the lodge that evening, thousands of swifts zoomed overhead to join a dark vortex of birds whirling over the dunes. It was a giant feeding frenzy, triggered by clouds of winged termites emerging from the ground to complete their annual life cycle. Even Rudi had never seen anything like it. “As a spectacle it’s just as good as finding lions,” he said.
The next morning, at dawn, a cheetah was walking across the plains, a taut and quivering creature whose presence dominated the landscape. No wonder this is Nicky Oppenheimer’s favourite animal. “I love them for their elegance”, he had told me, “and the way they fit so perfectly with the scheme of things at Tswalu.”
Earlier I had also spoken with Gus van Dyk, his manager, who told me that cheetahs were doing well at Tswalu. So were the reserve’s other predators, though they had lost a pack of wild dogs to distemper. But the dog population would recover. Like cheetahs, they need space, and Tswalu is one of the few remaining places where such far-ranging species can fulfil their need to roam.
“Space is what nature needs most,” said Gus, “and that is what Tswalu can provide.” Jackman was hosted by UK tour operator Journeys by Design
Rates: from R17 700 per person sharing per night at Motse.