Share with Stella an adventurous walk in the wild and see what was discovered!
MABULA
A mild sun rose gently in the blue winter sky. It was another day in Bush Village, a
sprawling encampment in the heart of Mabula. I was spending a few days with my
family in the comfortable lodge, surrounded by bush, scrub, tall ochre grasses and
winding trails leading into the game reserve.
The younger members, Kate and Dirk had just returned from an early morning game
drive. Huddled in thick woollen jackets they enthused about rhino, elephant and
gemsbock. Impervious to predawn cold and chilly winds, they had shared a land
rover with other hardy souls, and experienced the thrill of nature coming alive to a
new day. We lesser mortals rose at leisure. Already the hadedahs, weavers, and
hornbills were swooping and foraging for scraps as they gathered around the fig tree.
Appetizing aromas wafted from the kitchen. Breakfast appeared as if by magic, when
Joanne, having prepared bacon eggs and sausage, ushered us to the large oval
table, where Kate was setting crockery. There were six of us, including my son-in-law
Chris and his father Norman. Dirk, my granddaughter Kate´s friend while Joanne my
daughter, looked after all our needs, while comforting herself with the occasional
brandy.
These are the moments I look back on and treasure. Being part of a family again.
Enjoying conversation around the table, and humorous banter between family
members who have shared so many memories across the years.
Later we embarked on a short trip into Warmbaths where a rural village market has
been established just outside of town. Set on an embankment next to a meandering
stream, the attractive wooden shops entice one to linger and look. Colourful
beadwork, hand-painted tablecloths, and crafts of all kinds are set out to tempt the
buyer. Behind the embankment, but still part of the village, ungainly ostriches wander
over green verdant lawns. Overhanging trees cast shade in the well tended park,
which enchants like a small oasis of beauty in this bustling country town. We had
lunch in O´Hagan´s pub also situated near the stream, and relaxed in the tranquil
surroundings.
Our few days together were full of simple pleasures. Norman introduced us to solo
Whist one afternoon, (and we all lost our money to Chris). That evening there was an
enjoyable movie and before retiring we relaxed with sundowners on the stoep. I also
experienced the magic of modern technology, as Joanne contacted her daughter Niki
by cellphone. Niki was travelling in Europe, and we received daily reports of life in
Rome, Switzerland and London. Truly a modern miracle!
On our last day we rose early to take a two kilometer hike through the winding trail to
Mabula Hotel. Russet and gold autumn leaves crackled under our feet. Birds flew
lazily overhead as we scrambled over rocks and branches. I looked eagerly for wild
animals but was disappointed. Suddenly Chris shouted, “Look over there.’ I followed
his gaze on the narrow trail before us. A large dung beetle ambled slowly across the
path unaware of our existence. It was the only highlight of our walk. At the end of the
trail a wooden notice board informed us we were taking these adventures at our own
risk, as there were dangerous animals in the reserve. I shuddered, grateful that the
oversized beetle had not attacked us!
That evening as shadows fell across the stoep and a jackal cried in the wilderness
we savoured our last braai together. As the flames slowly died and night fell, a
solitary porcupine wandered up and looked enquiringly for morsels. He was followed
later by three bush pigs who squealed indignantly on discovering they were too late.
I would like to report that a pink elephant happened to float by, but I would be telling
lies.
My wild animal sightings were disappointing, but I did not go on a game drive.
However, my real reason for being there – sharing time with the family – was fulfilling
and satisfying. And having someone cook for me. Well, that was something else
again!