KRUGER PARK

Sophia van Taak misses the…

While the world battles the Covid-19 crisis, my days often feel monotonous and the future seems bleak. During dark moments, I wish myself back to the Kruger Park, where anything can happen. An impala might be chewing on some grass when a member of its herd will raise the alarm and all hell will break loose.

There’s always a sense of anticipation in the air. Maybe the farflung location of the park has something to do with it. The Kruger still has that frontier feeling, an air of unpredictability, with a subtropical climate that coats you in a light sweat and makes you feel a little wild yourself.

I’m not saying you won’t get this feeling in other parks, but the Kruger is in a class of its own. Just the name “Kruger” is enough to fill you with awe – like when the hyenas tease each other by saying “Mufasa” in The Lion King.

When you’re in the Kruger, you talk about Kruger things: “Did you hear the lions last night? Which area will we explore today? Apparently wild dogs caught a young waterbuck just outside the Pretoriuskop gate this morning!” (How wonderful will it be to not talk about The Virus for once?)

My favourite moment is when you pull over at a traffic jam and you crane your neck, but you can’t see what everyone is looking at. Until the stranger in the vehicle next to you leans through his open window and whispers: “Look to the right of the burnt mopane. It’s a martial eagle eating a python.”

In the Kruger, you don’t mind getting up at dawn and driving around with open windows while the crisp air nips at your ears. It’s fun to spend all day in the car and communicate in whispers. And when lions settle down for a nap in the middle of the road and cause the cars to back up, it doesn’t ruin your day – it’s a highlight! Because the Kruger is not about us, the humans. In the park, we are the most boring species – and we don’t mind! When you’re in the Kruger, nothing bothers you.

Cost: Conservation fee R100 per adult; R50 per child; free with a

Wild card.